Ausländers

This morning in my integration class, we spoke mostly about the conditions for residency, as well as the naturalization process one must go through to become a Swiss citizen.  It's incredibly rigorous.

First, it is not enough to have established long-term residency in Switzerland: you must also live for quite a long time in a single Gemeinde (or city).  The city that will care for you in old age, and so they need to decide you're worth it.  In Zürich, there is a five-year requirement for residency.

In addition to residency, you have to provide financial stability.  The city will also be responsible for you in unemployment, in which case they will pay for you to maintain your standard of living (taking care of your rent, whatever it might be, as well as giving you a living stipend), for the short term, and they will feed and shelter you in long-term poverty.  So they need to make sure you're not too much of a risk.

Next you need to be completely fluent in one of the national languages: German, French, Italian, or Romansh.

All of this seems reasonable enough, but the final two requirements really raised my eyebrows.  First, you need demonstrate that you are completely integrated in Swiss life.  You need to be completely aware of national and local politics, for example, knowing the names of the councilmen if you live in a city, and, additionally, knowing who local officials such as the police and fire chief if you live in a smaller town.  You need to be familiar with Swiss holidays and traditions...but that's not enough.  You're expected to attend, to participate. And, more than that, you need to be active in your community, a volunteer. It's not enough to be a quiet, law-abiding resident.  You must contribute.

But, how could the authorities possibly know if you go to the festivals, asked my classmates.  "They have eyes everywhere," our teacher informed us.  If you want to become a Swiss citizen, be prepared to have authorities extensively interview your neighbors and coworkers, to see just what kind of a person you are.

And for goodness sake, make no enemies.  If a single citizen of your Gemeinde blackballs you, you're out. But, more than that, make good friends, because you must have personal character recommendations in your file.

The Swiss are an incredibly tight-knit community.  Historically, they've had to take care of each other in severe, mountainous isolation.  In those conditions, if a community is only going to welcome a new member if he is prepared to give back.

Thirty percent of Zurich's population are foreigners, possibly because the naturalization process is so rigorous.  I've started to notice that the Swiss are just about as welcoming to foreigners as Americans are. Sometimes we're treated with such great kindness and understanding, but also, sometimes, we're just barely tolerated.

Because we are Ausländers. Outlanders.  It can be rough.

Taking the train downtown

Today after school, Ella came home with nochElla trailing behind.  We'd made plans to visit that fancy gummy candy shop downtown, and Ella begged me if she could bring her friend along.  At first I told her, but nochElla promised to be helpful, and so finally I agreed.  We went downtown, and the kids had a great time, as happy as, well, kids in a candy store.  But, while we were walking, nochElla told me something that had been on her mind.

"The kids in our class, you know, they can be really mean to Ella. She doesn't do anything to deserve it: I think they do it because she can't understand them and so they think it's funny that she doesn't know what's going on.  They'll say she's stinky, or that they don't want to dance with her.  Sometimes they call her...scheiße."  I'm afraid I believe it. I've heard that word yelled by four- and five-year-olds on the playground, often.

"What does that mean! I have a right to know what they're saying about me!" demanded my Ella.  Oh, dear.  I explained that it was a really rude word for poop, that only really unkind boys who weren't worth her attention would use, and Ella just shrugged, unconcerned.  "Oh, that's fine.  I'm not going to get upset about a bunch of boys calling me poopy.  They're dumb."

I talked to Ella about it later, away from her friend.  NochElla is an Ausländer, too, and her father has told me that she's dealing with her own share of teasing, and that it's really, really been affecting her.  As much as I feel for her, I'm was concerned that she's trying to stir up a little drama with my daughter, who has, to this point, been pretty unconcerned.

"You know, mom, it's funny," she told me, "I'm really sensitive about silly things, like sad movies or eating peas, but then I'm not really bothered about the important stuff, like boys calling me names or walking to school alone." Be that as it may, I made it clear to her that I was really proud of her, and I offered to talk with her teacher, but she just shrugged.  "You can, if you want, but you don't need to. Besides, isn't that kind of the coward's way out?"  I promised her that it wasn't, that she had every right to feel safe in school, and I was here for her if she didn't.  But, still, she didn't seem worried: if anything, she seemed proud of herself for being strong enough to ignore those boys.

I don't know where this thick skin is coming from, but I hope she maintains it in middle school.  It makes me really sad, all the same, that she has to deal with this...this scheiße. But when I've talked to her teacher about it in the past, she's very dismissive, with a kids-will-be-kids attitude. 

I'm glad that her self-worth isn't bound to what some rude second-grade boys say about her. I suppose as long as Ella's handling it well, it will only make her more tenacious.  And, hopefully, this experience will encourage Ella to be extra kind and sensitive to foreigners when we return home.