The abyss of proximity

Quaint little town of Arzo

As my job search proceeds, for the first time since middle school I have the time to truly live the small Swiss village life experiences all over again. The difference this time, however, is that I am now an adult that has lived, studied and worked in numerous other countries outside the small Italian-speaking Canton of Switzerland: Ticino.

Many positive memories are relived such as the comfort of being in quaint and green surroundings where the elderly walk to the local grocer and don’t hesitate to say “Buongiorno” to you as you cross their path. Or the incredible smells that are released by the fertile soil while the winter snow gradually disappears, filling your lungs with prospects of an early spring. These are things that immediately flood my thoughts back to images of carefree youthfulness where we played hide-and-go-seek in the tight, meandering alleyways of Stabio’s Old Town nucleus or when we raced on our bicycles down the steep hill of Rancate challenging who would be the first to cool off from the summer heat in the soothing waters of Lake Lugano. 

Many such comforting scenarios reappear when I set foot in this charming and frequently sunny part of the Helvetian territory, but the differences in perspective with those that have lived many of those youthful moments with me are what quickly bring me back to the current realities of our time.

The Canton of Ticino is literally dipped into the Italian boot as would be a chocolate-chip cookie in a large glass of milk. It is therefore not only geographically glued to its Italian-speaking neighbour, but it is also heavily influenced both historically and presently by the Italian culture. Ticino and the surrounding border regions of Italy share culture, religion, history, architecture and language as well as surnames, lakes, rivers and culinary delights. Despite the long list of similarities, an abyss between them is expanding, something that until this past weekend I never fully grasped.

The occasion was the birthday of a friend of a friend’s; an Italian, to be precise. In fact, most of my friends from childhood are of Italian heritage. However, in this case, it was a non-immigrant Italian friend’s party in Italy. Until here it might seem irrelevant considering that, when I’m in the region, I probably set foot in Italy at least twice a day (even getting to certain Swiss villages from my own town is quicker via Italy!). Therefore, in my head, the distinction between Swiss vs. Italians never went beyond the obvious: a real border, a different political system and a sharp contrast in the quality of public infrastructure.

As we entered the party hall, we took our seats at the large table. To my left, an old friend of mine: a Swiss woman. Diagonal from me, her financé: an Italian. Across from me, an Italian couple I hadn’t met before: both Italians. As we indulged in our food I heard the man across from me ask my friend’s fiancé “How is life in Switzerland?” I almost choked on my food. I thought: “Are we talking about the Switzerland that’s only 15km (less than 10 miles) away from here?”

Arzo bell tower

For a moment I felt utterly out of place. Having only recently returned from South-East Asia, such a question about the difference between two culturally similar and economically intertwined nations made me wonder if I had maybe misunderstood something all along. I just couldn’t believe that someone living 15km away from the border (and enjoying the freedom to enter and exit Switzerland as they please) would ask such a question. Of course, in recent years, there have been increasingly aggressive campaigns undertaken by the populist Swiss parties, the Union of Christian-Democrats (UDC) and the Lega Ticinese, condemning the large number of border-workers “stealing” Swiss jobs in addition to souring relationships between the two countries regarding fiscal evasion of Italian nationals with Swiss bank accounts. I have nevertheless always considered such topics irrelevant when engaging in relations at the human level. What I was experiencing was a rudimentary bashing session about the Swiss lifestyle, law enforcement, driving capabilities… you name it. I felt like we were talking about the differences between the moon and planet Earth which became more and more puzzling as the conversations unfolded. “I’m glad I’ve tried the experience of living in Switzerland for some time, but I will now be returning back to Italy”. What the speaker failed to mention was that his soon-to-be wife is Swiss, that his job will remain in Switzerland (including a Swiss salary) but that they will move to a more affordable home and living conditions on the Italian side of the border.

The advantages for living in Italy and working in Switzerland are great and I can fully comprehend anybody’s decision to choose such an arrangement. What I fail to understand is this verbal bashing that occurs from either side of the border when both parties are clearly in a win-win situation, with very few exceptions. I was asked multiple times by the couple across from me which side I was on: which side am I on? There are no sides to take in such a visibly positive dynamic. If only everybody could live in Vietnam or elsewhere for a year, they would quickly realize what it means to live in a completely different world from one’s own. In that case the despised similarities of their neighbours might actually begin to shrink the abyss and bring relations to a renewed proximity.