I am “THAT WEIRD FOREIGNER!” (F)

Written originally and sent out in March 2006

As many people know, Switzerland is famous for its Swiss Alps and the skiing! Just as we have Spring Break in the States, they have Ski Week for the kids in Switzerland. Skiing is such a huge part of their life that each industry group within our firm has our very own ski weekend. So when ours came up in the end of March, I was excited to go.

But as I learn time and time again, nothing is simple in a foreign country, especially when you don’t speak the language.

Now, at this point, I had only worked on one project since I had joined the firm and had actually never even met anyone in my industry group, which happens to be almost entirely Swiss (well, we are in Switzerland). So early Saturday morning, a bit nervous as I did not really know anyone who would be there, I jumped into a car with 2 Swiss colleagues of mine who had offered a ride, and off we went to Arosa.

The last time I went skiing I was about 10 years old, hence I own no ski clothes, which are extremely expensive here. Solution? My good friend Kevin lent me his. So once we arrived, I timidly changed into his clothes which were about five sizes too big, rented some skis, and off I went.

Humility and humbleness are two emotions here which I have quickly learned. While I enjoyed myself on the weekend..I cannot even begin to describe to you how awkward an entire weekend of being that “weird foreigner” truly is. Now, while the Swiss love skiing, they also love stopping off at the outdoor lodges and grabbing a drink even more (men that is..most Swiss girls merely sip on a beer pretending to drink). The weather was amazingly warm, you could sit out in a T-shirt and there was a huge group of us sitting out on the tables drinking and chatting, well they were…

But I found myself, breakfast, lunch, and dinner, sitting quietly amongst everyone not understanding a clue as to what they were saying. Sometimes someone would eventually turn to me and explain in English, and sometimes they talked to you in English one and one, but the minute another Swiss person entered the conversation, it inevitably reversed back to Swiss German and then I would stand there dumbly smiling, with the song lyrics “Should I stay or should I go now?” resonating in my head, knowing I looked ridiculous just standing there while they knew I did not know what they were talking about, but also with nowhere to go unless I wanted to go stand in a corner alone staring at the wall.

Sometimes it is a bit like feeling like a helpless child, with people jabbering away discussing plans in which you can contribute nothing to the conversation, but have to stand there and wait until the decision is final so that someone can hopefully remember to turn to you and say in English, “We are meeting for lunch at 1pm” or “We are going to the next club now.”

However, I have found a few Swiss friends in my group, one girl offered to ski with me, and after our warm-up run down a bunny hill, we went up one of the lifts only to realize in horror at the top that it was only Black Diamonds on the way down. I have to admit I was scared s***less, but was extremely proud of myself after making it down, that is, until one of my Swiss co-workers, who had brought his 4 year old daughter along, points to one of the Black Diamond runs and tells me how he took his daughter down it on the last run. Talk about a shot to the ego…

Saturday night was a lot of fun, after a big Swiss cheese fondue in one of the lodges, the firm arranged for a bunch of sleds to be brought to the restaurant. And when I say sled, I mean the old classic wooden runners which get going so fast your life is in the hands of nature as you have absolutely no control, and of course, these sleds are made even more dangerous given the amount of alcohol we had been consuming throughout the day and dinner. So, in order to make it to the clubs below, we had to sled down the mountain on a track similar to a bobsled track, a bit wider, but I swear, just as fast. Immediately, my competitive manager, who is determined to make it down first, grabs a sled, grabs me and off we go full speed. Of course, it is not long before we go crashing around a corner, flipping over, and flying down the track in front of the entire group. Hmmm…notice the trend??? I seem to have a strange habit of embarrassing myself…