Becoming Swiss

I wore my green suit that I inherited from my daughter and a black necklace from my grandmother to take my oath as a new Swiss citizen. In a way it made me feel as if they were with me. It had been a long haul. Fifteen years eight months and six days.

My being in Switzerland at all was an accident. Because I'd heard getting work permits was impossible, I hadn't applied in Switzerland. I'd sent over 800 CVs (resumes) to France, Germany and Austria and that was after I started counting.

Getting the IHT for European want ads from the the Out of Town news stand in Harvard Square, I found an ad for a post in Neuchatel, Switzerland for someone who knew French, German and Digital Equipment Corp. I had two of the three, sent a fax, was hired and was given a Permis A. 

After three months I had a Permis B which was held by my employer and after 5 years a Permis C which gave me the right to work anywhere and more.

On the 12th anniversary of moving to Switzerland, on my first day eligible, I filled out the citizenship request form beginning a three-year process of interviews. I cried in relief when it was granted.

The oath taking ceremony was held in Hotel de Ville, constructed in the 1400s. I entered by the stone ramp where in the Middle Ages people rode their horses up to meetings. I was greeted along with 89 other soon-to-be citizens by a man in a medieval costume. 

As we filed into the hall, we tossed our cardboard Permis Cs in a box. Today the Permis are plastic.

On my designated seat was my voting package for the next votation, one of the four each year where citizens wishes are put to an all-country vote. It was complete with my name, address, signature card, information, ballot and postage paid envelope. There were also forms for my identity card and passport to take to my local mairie. 

 As a group we sang the Swiss national anthem. I've a terrible voice. I'd been teased by friends if they heard me sing, the government might change their mind about accepting me.

A few officials made welcoming speech and we took the oath as a group.

Outside the grand hall, there was champagne and a  pain surprise. The layers were salmon, ham, and a local cold cut. Everyone was given a book with photos and the history of the Canton.

Leaving the Hotel de Ville I walked past the hall where the Treaty of Alabama was signed in September 1872 by the Americans and British the final step ending the American Civil War.

I passed one of the old fountains that had been built so people did not have to walk down to the lake and lug it back in the time of Jean Calvin. More were planned by the city fathers, but they did not want to pay for more than one.

As I walked through the streets of old town, the same streets I had walked to go to the oath taking, I felt somewhat different. I was still me, but also I was Swiss.