I'll give you an example.
After The Boy's swimming lessons, this other lady at the pool who speaks very little English tried to make conversation with me asking if I was from India, and that she'd lived in Bangalore for about a year sometime back etc.
All good. If I'd have been new in the city I'd have got excited at the likelihood of making a new friend. I'd have already been planning play dates; I'd have started dreaming of having coffees with other mums while our tots played by themselves; I'd have been imagining us mums taking turns to push our babies on the swing etc etc.
But I've been here more than 2 years. And I know the Swiss ain't having any coffees with you, or pushing any swings with you. Even the expats here seem so busy in just making money and living this ohmygod stressful life. (In an office where N is considered brilliant even after putting in only 25-30% of his potential, other colleagues are having stress attacks and claiming they're so tired at the end of every week and doing chores over weekends that they just want to spend all remaining time in bed.)
And there is the language issue. As illustrated in the example below.
After we had the little chat about the lady having lived in Bangalore etc., I tried to make conversation, too, pointing to my oh-so wriggly boy and saying how impossible it is now to dress him or change his diaper since he just wants to run around everywhere. And she pointed to her six-month-old son who was lying down peaceful getting changed, fascinated with a string of wooden toys, and said, "same here".
If you think for a second you might have found someone you meet at least once every week, who has a baby roundabout a similar age as yours, and that you might in the least have a decent enough conversation with that person after swimming lessons, you're once again reminded you're in a city where nobody understands you (and I don't mean this in any philosophical way; they just don't speak or understand your language).
After The Boy's swimming lessons, this other lady at the pool who speaks very little English tried to make conversation with me asking if I was from India, and that she'd lived in Bangalore for about a year sometime back etc.
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| (Not The Boy) |
But I've been here more than 2 years. And I know the Swiss ain't having any coffees with you, or pushing any swings with you. Even the expats here seem so busy in just making money and living this ohmygod stressful life. (In an office where N is considered brilliant even after putting in only 25-30% of his potential, other colleagues are having stress attacks and claiming they're so tired at the end of every week and doing chores over weekends that they just want to spend all remaining time in bed.)
And there is the language issue. As illustrated in the example below.
After we had the little chat about the lady having lived in Bangalore etc., I tried to make conversation, too, pointing to my oh-so wriggly boy and saying how impossible it is now to dress him or change his diaper since he just wants to run around everywhere. And she pointed to her six-month-old son who was lying down peaceful getting changed, fascinated with a string of wooden toys, and said, "same here".
If you think for a second you might have found someone you meet at least once every week, who has a baby roundabout a similar age as yours, and that you might in the least have a decent enough conversation with that person after swimming lessons, you're once again reminded you're in a city where nobody understands you (and I don't mean this in any philosophical way; they just don't speak or understand your language).
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