Confessions of an Ex-American

I had not intended to give up my American Nationality. 

I grew up in New England, proud of my Yankee stock going back to the American Revolution, well versed in American history and politics.

At 20, as a new bride my husband and I were assigned to the 7th Army Band in Stuttgart, Germany. I fell in love with Europe.

Back in the States, I finished my degree, had a beautiful daughter and got divorced. I traveled to Europe every chance I could. And the more I saw, the more I wanted to live there. Then, add in having two acquaintances murdered and two robberies within our household, the social contract in my target countries, Germany, Austria, France, etc. the desire became stronger. 

Finding a job would be necessary.

I sent out over 800 CVs after I started counting. I sent only one to Switzerland, having been told I wouldn't stand a chance. I'd picked up the International Herald Tribune and there was an ad for someone who knew Digital Equipment. Corp. (I was founding member and marketing director of their credit union) knew German and French. The German was rusty, the French minimal. 

I sent a FAX.

Within minutes a response. My references were checked. A week later I was on a plane,

The interview lasted all day. The company owner, knowing he was difficult, had me meet with a former employee to prove how difficult he was. The deal--if he offered a job and I turned it down, I would pay my ticket. If he didn't offer the job, he would pay. If I accepted his job offer, he would pay.

The deciding factor, he later said, was how I washed up the tea things in a slow period, showing I was a team player. I had to promise to improve my French although he thought my age might be a handicap. 

Two months later I had my working permit and was living and working near Neuchâtel, I hated that job. 

I loved the people I was working with. I loved going from Boston to a village that had 600 people, 6,000 cows, had been the home of Jean-Jacques Rousseau and a cave in an old monastery that made method champagne, It was also the founding place of Absinthe. Voltaire had visited.

I lasted three years trying to find someone who would take my permit. I found a better job in Geneva. My old boss kept my permit and assigned me to the new organization until they could get me a new permit.

I have a great deal of sympathy for any immigrant fighting the bureaucracy, even one that works as well as the Swiss.

It was now 1993. I still had no idea that I would give up my American Nationality. Tomorrow, I will explain how America made it impossible to live in Europe. The attacks came from Carl Levin and Elise Bean.