Letter from Switzerland: mountain rhythms

http://www.theguardian.com/world/2014/nov/25/letter-from-switzerland-emily-haslimeier

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It’s 7.30am. I have just returned from the Schule Weg or School Way, where my daughter meets her kindergarten friends. They are on their way to a beautiful 13th-century castle that dominates our village, and has been used as a school house since 1880. I linger until I see them safely reach the school steps. After growing up in Melbourne and then living in London for nearly 12 years, I am still filled with a sense of paranoia that seems out of place here.

Today the children are excited as some frisky young cows have escaped, and are being chased off the football field by our neighbours waving long sticks and yelling, “Komme za za za, komme za”. The cows, like many of our neighbours, have recently returned from the Alps. They have been grazing there all summer; they are in high spirits and seem to think this is a game.

The day is sunny but cold; winter will be here soon and so will the snow. I drop my son off at playgroup and then run a lap around the forest. On the right I have a clear view of the Eiger, Mönch and Jungfrau mountains, to the left, the serene Jura mountain range.

Heitenried in the Pre-Alps in Canton Fribourg, is a busy, friendly, rural community of around 1,000 residents. Most people I know have grown up together, and have attended the same school as our children do now.

At noon I hear the church bells, when all the children return home for lunch; this means I also need to be at home. On Wednesdays the kindergarten takes place in the forest, regardless of the weather. There is no school on Wednesday afternoons.

In the late afternoon, I glance out the window and see a teenager riding down the street on his bike; he has a huge automatic rifle strapped to his back. My husband tells me not to worry, the rifle is not loaded because “it’s not allowed”. The boys slows his bike and greets some children crossing the road, then makes his way to target practice at our local shooting range. Military service is still mandatory for all men from the age of 18 here.

Late at night there is an eerie silence that keeps me awake, even after living here for more than four years. I imagine that if I were still living in London, seeing a teenager carrying an automatic weapon down the high street might also keep me awake.

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