Switzerland’s identity crisis (and a bit of cheese fondue)

Switzerland is known worldwide for its chocolate, cheese fondue, mountains and neutrality. 

But what I notice most, each time I visit, is the way that it encroaches into the culture of its bordering countries, whether Austria, Germany, France, Italy or Liechtenstein. I’m not saying the country doesn’t have an identity of its own. Well, maybe I am. There are definitely truly Swiss markers that the traveler crosses off the list, but most of these are heavily influenced by another European nation.

Even Wiki basically says the same thing: “Switzerland comprises three main linguistic and cultural regions: German, French and Italian. The Swiss, therefore, do not form a nation in the sense of a common ethnic or linguistic identity. The strong sense of belonging to the country is founded on the common historical background, shared values and Alpine symbolism.”

I’ve managed to travel to Switzerland three times, to each of the three main linguistic and cultural regions. Firstly, the southern part that borders Italy, followed by the north-eastern German part and lastly, the Western French-speaking part.

The first time I saw Switzerland I was 20 (God, I’m old). I landed in Zurich and was soon on the southeastern road to Italy, watching the Alps rise and fall around me. I can’t say that I remember much of the Swiss part of this experience, as I was en route to a villa in Tuscany, the beautiful memories of which have managed to overwhelm any part of the journey there. What I do remember is the striking landscape, traveling through tunnels in the midst of the Alps, coming out into Italy and, shortly after, the terracotta-roofed, sunflower-laden hills of the Tuscan countryside. So, fair enough, I can’t be a good judge of the Italian border of Switzerland.

My second visit was during the Lyl-and-Jenn-backpacking-adventure-of-2004, and this time I was in the northeastern part of the country, close to the German border. This time I properly saw Zurich, then traveled centrally to Lucerne and Interlaken. I do remember, distinctly, that the language spoken was mostly Swiss-German, but I also remember that I got to use my French a bit, particularly as we traveled southwest towards the mountainous town of Interlaken.

I recall that Zurich was small and charming, with Gothic architecture clustered on cobblestones along the Limmat River; that Lucernce was a picturesque town, where we spent a couple of rainy days below the towering peaks of Mount Pilatus and Mount Rigi; and that Interlaken, after a stunning train ride through some adorable alpine villages, green lakes and snowcapped mountains, was a bit of a kitschy, tourist-filled town within yodeling distance of the Jungrau peaks. I do know we ate a lot of chocolate, found the Swiss Franc far too much for our modest backpacking budget, and did some beautiful hiking around the lakes.

This past weekend I was in the Western part of Switzerland, which is basically France. Did you know that 95% of Geneva is bordered by France? Every once and awhile, you accidentally cross the border, just walking from the arrivals lounge to the car rental area at the airport. It’s kind of amazing – for a girl who loves France (except when you’re only currency is Swiss Francs, or bits of British sterling.)

I was in Geneva to visit one of my oldest and best friends, Jill, who is doing an internship at the World Health Organization (WHO) as part of her Masters in global health. The city – though the second most populous in Switzerland, a world-leading financial centre, a worldwide base for diplomacy (headquarters of the United Nations and the Red Cross) – is also the fifth most expensive city in the world and just doesn’t really appeal to the traveler in me. So, we rented an adorable Fiat Panda, and embarked on a nearly 15-hour adventure around the circumference of Lake Geneva. It was one of my Top 10 days of all time!

I won’t get into too much detail, but we headed east, trying to follow country roads in view of the gorgeous lake, through Coppet, Nyon, Rolle and Morges, before we stopped mid-morning in Lausanne. We visited the Parc Olympique, which is under construction and housed in a boat. Then onward, through the more bustling lakeside towns of Vevey and Montreux, before we headed north and into the mountains. With Gruyères our end goal (cheese!), we drove through some adorable Swiss villages, imagining their beauty in the snowy winter months.

Later, we left Switzerland quite effortlessly for France, which basically touches the entire south border of the lake. We found ourselves in Yvoire, a medieval town about 45 minutes from Geneva, where a local Bastille Day celebration was kicking off. Drank some lovely cold bière, ate frites and sausage de veau, and watched the sun set over the lake, as it dyed the white caps of the Swiss Alps a pastel pink. We got back on the road as the fireworks started (the French love their fireworks) and, barring a bit of a detour due to a Roots concert on the lake, we eventually made it back to the Geneva airport to return our rental.

Clearly, my latest visit to Switzerland is foremost in my memory (since it was last weekend and I feel I’ve got a bit more life perception than I did when I was 20 or 23), but I have to say that the Swiss-French linguistics and culture is definitely my favourite. To be completely fair, I could have easily been in France last weekend, which is probably the main reason I loved the western part of the country.

All that to say, after three trips to Switzerland, I still don’t really feel that it has its own identity, or maybe I just haven’t experienced that identity yet. Our hours driving into the mountains were my favourite, the most typically Swiss, I guess. But all the pieces of Italy in the southeast, the German/Austrian influences of the north, and the amazing Frenchness of the west, still feel much more like those other countries than they do Switzerland. I guess I’ll just have to visit again and do some more research.