The Maple and the Ivy Turn Yellow
November 2–7, Zug Canton, Switzerland
Seasonal Memoir Entry #36
I continue to make little observations here and there about the Swiss; the most recent: they have incredible footwear. Regardless of what they are wearing — casual jeans, sporty athleisure, or dressing up in wool — their shoes will always be immaculate. It’s a thing!
The Solitary Boarder
He lives alone in a studio apartment in an unremarkable Swiss village, having chosen to stay engaged in his work as an international school leader through a gap year before heading to India, regrettably leaving his family back in the U.S.
He craves routine, waking up by a birdsong alarm between 0530–0630. Starting with a cup of Marks & Spencer Extra Strong tea, he sits on the sofa and stares blankly into the distance as the sun makes itself known. What does the day require? What must he remember to take care of?
He often thinks of how soon it is to the weekend, or when he can next go home to see the family he misses so much. These thoughts are counterproductive, as they are empty, and only distract from living in the present moment. Time slows down when he thinks this way.
He may surf the news a bit, or take care of some work, and then he fries up the same breakfast: eggs and toast. He puts the dishes in the sink when he really should wash them, and then he makes himself presentable. He again forgets to iron his trousers the night before, so he does this frantically, so as not to be late.
The two mile walk to school is cathartic, and he deliberately unplugs from music or podcasts. It’s the quietest time of his day, so he lets the silence wash over him. He smiles at the strangers who ride past each morning, and waves at his teacher-colleague biking with his child to school. Routines in sync.
He feels the same twinge of anxiety when arriving at school that he feels before a social gathering. His inclination is to work quietly on his own, preferably in a public setting so he can observe “schooling”, but that is unrealistic given his leadership responsibilities. And besides, it’s not what is good for him. The frequent interactions — some mundane, some weighty, some formal, most impromptu — does energize him, and gives his work meaning. It reminds him of why he’s made this sacrifice to spend time away from his family.
When the work is done for the day, he walks home, always more caffeinated than he should be. He turns on the headlamp once getting on the farm road leading to the village. He’ll try WhatsApp calling his wife or kids, if they are available to chat. They often are! He’ll check his iTunes feed, almost always choosing a sports podcast over something intellectual, perhaps because it’s time to lighten the cognitive load.
He stops at the village grocery market, picking up what he needs for that evening, and for the next day. He buys in small quantities: two pieces of fruit, one bag of rocket, a half-dozen eggs, some cheese, one beer…. Buying for more than two days out leads to both overeating, and to spoilage. The Europeans have figured this out.
At home, he makes a modest dinner, and turns the speaker on to listen to the radio from back home. He lights some candles, just because. There is some grading to do, a few emails to look at (though he knows he should turn off work), and those dishes in the sink. He may do laundry: 29 minutes, and then air-drying on the rack (he can’t figure out how to work the dryer). After his evening constitutional, and a chat with his wife, he retires to bed to read, which doesn’t last long before he’s out cold.
Rinse and repeat.
Living alone, and away from home, he only has enough, but no more. This helps keep the clutter out of the apartment, for which there is no room for storage anyways. Living this way is as much an attitude as it is pragmatic. It feels good to him to not hoard. Enlightening, actually.
Time becomes noticeable as a central theme. What to do with it, when you have nearly 100% autonomy over it? Most people lament at not having enough time or autonomy, but the solitary boarder looks at it differently. Too much of something good turns out to be a wellbeing trap. It makes room for new emotions — boredom, sadness, and even melancholy — or for new behaviors: idleness, procrastination, and self-soothing. But this is what he’s chosen, and he’ll see it through.
