Multi Lives

Who pulled the curtains over the patio doors to the right of the bed, I wonder. Then I realize, I'm not in my French home anymore but my Swiss.

It takes a couple of days to adjust to the changes either way even though we live in villages in both places.

In France we live on a street with all the houses touching. They go back 300, 400 years. The village was fought over between the Spanish, Catalans, French and Majorcans and Germans over the centuries.

A Roman villa https://www.vidinoti.com/de/vandoeuvres/ was discovered a few years back and excavated in our Swiss village. In between then and now, farmers dominated. They still do, but they have new neighbors, almost half from anywhere in the world, many of whom work in international companies. 

People ask which place I prefer. I don't have a preference overall.

There are little things like the toilet a few steps from my bed in Switzerland that I appreciate. In France, I need to walk through the living room, dining room and kitchen. In summer the cool tiles on my feet in France feel good...not so much on a cold winter night. 

Switzerland is a studio, cleverly divided by a bookcase that makes it seem as a one bedroom. It is the only place, I've ever lived  where there are more than enough bookcases without additional construction or purchase.

Today is Saturday. We are going into Geneva by bus to a book store and food fair. When we return the village fete should just be getting started. We looked at many other alternatives including a medieval exhibition and an observatory open house on what to do. There are many more choices for every day.

If I were in France, we'd go to the marché which takes over the entire village center. Stands would sell everything from watches, clothing, veggies, meats, cheeses, honey... We would see friends and neighbors as we settled in our favorite café. A jazz band usually plays for donations.

The marché in our Swiss village. It has three stands: a butcher, a cheese seller and a local farmer with more local veggies than I know what to do with. If we asked, he would deliver a selection to our house on Monday.

It is almost impossible to leave our French house without running into neighbors and friends as well as those from all over Europe who have second homes. 

In Switzerland it is necessary to drive to meet people we know. This is good for my writing because there are less diversions, no matter how pleasant those diversions are. I would change neither.

 

The view in our Swiss village as we drive down the hill to our place is beyond the cliché of breath taking. There are no words to describe the Alps and their variety of colors. They dress in the entire rainbow over a period of time sometimes as short as hours. Sometimes they almost disappear.

The Med is a 10 minute drive in France. It can be anything from smooth enough to walk on to violent waves.

 

Lake Léman has its moods too. It has been known to throw water inland to create a ice city. We used to live closer to the lake, a two-minute walk. Now our drive is about 12 minutes.

Our French refrigerator is normal size. The one in Switzerland is half sized. I love its tininess, maybe because it reminds me of the one I had when I lived in Stuttgart as an Army bride. When I joined my ex, our first refrigerator was the window sill. When we moved and had the tiny refrigerator it represented luxury. It could be the memory relived that makes me like it. Also, we can't keep ice cream, an advantage to my waistline.

The shower in our Swiss home is almost a small room. The toilet is separate from the sink and shower area, which can be convenient as anyone who has had lived with two people and one toilet can imagine.

Whenever we change homes, the first 48 hours are marked by the phrase "Where is...?" as we try to remember where we put any number of household things. We now have a jar and each time we ask we put a franc/Euro. It will be used for our trip to Pompeii, assuming no other volcano.

No one is going to feel sorry for us. We live in two exceptionally beautiful places, each in their own ways.The culture varies, but in both we are internationals taking bits of this or that from where we are. We are integrated but not depending on what it is. Even if we returned to our childhood homes, our lives since we left have changed us so we would be partial outsiders.

This is not a complaint but a statement of fact, a statement that makes me know how lucky I am to have these multi-lives.