The Return of the Prodigal Daughter...

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My trip to the south is significant in more than one way, namely that the city of Konstanz directly borders Switzerland, its snowy mountain peaks visible from across the lake. As such it's only an hour by train to Winterthur - the town where I spent 8 months of my life during my year abroad, not too gladly if I'm being honest. And from there it's a mere 15 minute journey to the village of Bassersdorf, the home of yet another close relative, my cousin Tatiana. I haven't been back to Switzerland since that year I spend there, having had quite enough of being unable to understand a single word of the pseudo-German spoken in this part of Europe. I am now finally ready to make a trip back in time, a visit that will bring back a miriad memories, some unwelcome ones, but surprisingly enough also encouraging ones.

As I board the overpriced train in Konstanz I feel as if the train doors are a border, dividing the world outside from the perfectly preserved slice of Switzerland inside the carriage. Rows of seats are littered with the only too recognisable Swiss regional newspaper, "20 minutes", designed especially to occupy idle minds during train journeys. Its heading informs me that the smoking ban is causing unrest in Swiss cities, where for the first time people are breaking laws and leaving their bar tabs unpaid, claiming to be "going out for a quick smoke". Shocked that the Swiss are at all capable of such mischief, I turn to the last pages of the newspaper, to be instantly amused by the message board - the only area of the otherwise perfectly German publication that displays the Swiss dialect in print! Amongst my favourite messages is one where a young lady proclaims her love for her other half. "Du bisch der Deckli mine Töpfli" - she proudly proclaims, or something with a similarly silly spelling to avoid misqouting, meaning literally "You are the lid to my pot". I've never heard anyone express their love in quite such a pragmatic way. I continue to amuse myself by listening to this strange version of the German language for the rest of the journey, wondering where my animosity towards it had come from. Or rather not so much wondering as enjoying my change of attitude.

In Winterthur I have a ten minute wait between connections and with a little trepidation I walk out of the station to catch just one glimpse of the streets and buildings which used to comprise my world, only to find that this world hasn't changed one single bit. And even though covered with a think blanket of snow, it doesn't sparkle and smell of Christmas the way German cities do. Without a Chritmas market, the town doesn't capture the true magic of winter. Yet at the same time it's rather touching standing at the entrance of the main station once again. I imagine this is what it would feel like to indulge in nostalgia with the aid of a time machine, stepping back for a mere 10 minutes to reminisce. The same feeling accompanies me to Bassersdorf, just as constant and unchanging as the rest of Switzerland.

Yet not all here has remained the same as ever - there has been a significant change in my cousin Tatiana's life, one that will hopefully make an auntie of me very soon. This is the first time someone I consider to be my sibling is awaiting a baby, which seems only too fitting at a time of year when the whole world is in a state of festive expectation. It's hard to describe the joy of seeing her in this state, ready to take on a whole new role in her life. She looks positively radiant and assures me that she feels it too. She seems relaxed but excited at the same time, and I cannot wait to see her as a mother. Family ties feel much stronger at Christmas time anyway, and nothing brings family members closer together than the joint expectation of a baby.

As we walk back from the station arm in arm at 10.30 in the morning we try to remember how long we hadn't seen each other. Time flies, and it has already been three years since I lived in this neck of the woods, and, as it turns out, two years since I last saw Tatiana. It's a bit of a shock realising this - it feels as if this time hadn't passed, yet I have changed beyond recognition. Sitting at a familiar dining table in a familiar apartment, I realise that less than a day will never be enough time to catch up. Yet we try, exchanging news for at least an hour before we finally get to work, for this is as much a business visit as a family one. I love spending time in Tatiana's home the way a child loves the smell of baking cookies. This flat has been a refuge for me over the time I spent in Switzerland, a place where I always felt at welcome despite not belonging in the country itself. And it's wonderful to be here again, so much so I wish I didn't have to leave at the end of the day. The journey back to Konstanz is a time of quiet reflection. On my life here three years ago, on the changes that have happened since then and those that will happen in the future. A reflection on family, tradition, hopes and dreams. An hour on a train looking out into the pitch-black of the winter evening is enough time alone with my innermost thoughts for tonight, but much longer travel will be needed to create an organised and clear space in my head which I know I need. I'll just have to keep following the advice of my fortune cookie....

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Comments

[Eva]

schwitze dütsch
ahahahaha!!!! "Du bisch mis Deckeli uf mis Töpfli. Machsch mich so ungloublich happy". :)))))))))))))))) schrecklich!

[ReiseReise]

Yes yes yes! Ganz ganz ungloublich )))))))))))))))))))