"Everything Works in Switzerland"

In only my two weeks in my new home, this is the sentence I have heard time and time again, from ex-pats and native Swiss—or rather, Suisse—often and with authority. Before moving to Switzerland, I knew that the small, famously neutral, and perhaps even more notably, beautiful, country was known for its precision and efficacy. If watches and multi-functional knives are your legacy, then it only makes (superbly engineered) sense. But my only up close and personal experience with this has been Andrew narrating the finer points of his watches.

“Everything works” is not just a popular thing to say; it’s true. In Switzerland, the water runs hot; the streetlights are on; the train is on time; the mail comes with predictability, and usually, a friendly “Bonjour!” from the carrier. It’s striking, especially as a person having lived in U.S. towns that have very different legacies, like New York and New Orleans, my favorite U.S. city that nonetheless often begs the question “How is this even a road?” From problems with garbage collection to traffic jams, these municipalities seemed to often struggle with that seemingly basic—but in reality very complex—issue of how to make things work.

In Switzerland, the clean and smooth way in which things work is striking, from the big cities like Geneva to the small villages like Rolle, the charming little lakeside town of 4,500 people that I now call home (Side note: Rolle has six bakeries, not counting in-grocery store bakeries, but one pub. I can only assume they get drunk on pain au chocolat instead of booze.). But it’s not just that functionality has left such an impression on me. It’s that things work again and again and again. In other words, recycling and reusing is a major part of the way of life here. The Swiss seem to reuse everything, and they also incentivize residents to waste not, want not.

The first thing an American might notice is having to pay for bags at the supermarket (you are expected to bring your own), but that’s become the norm in Europe. The Swiss also recycle pretty much everything, and there’s no leaving it up to fate or the garbage men. Residents are expected to separate aluminum cans, paper, cardboard, plastic, and glass—of the green, white and brown varieties. To throw out garbage here, residents must use a specific type of bag, and it’s $3 at the store—purposely inflated so that people are motivated to throw out less and use fewer trash bags. No one seems to begrudge it, and I’ve only seen one piece of litter on the street in the seven days I’ve been here (yes, I picked it up).

Sure, at first meticulously sorting recycling, hanging your clothes on the line, and throwing away as little as possible takes some getting used to. But there is also a sense of satisfaction and relief because of the system. In my old office in the States, I always felt guilty about indulging in those single-use espresso capsules. In Switzerland, there’s no need. The biggest manufacturer of those capsules, Nespresso, has partnered with other companies to repurpose the aluminum capsules to make new products, among them bicycles, auto parts, window frames, vegetable peelers, and even luxury pens. The office supply company Caran D’Ache partered with Nespresso to use old capsules to make beautiful pens.

Isn’t it wonderful to imagine green climate legislation written with a pen that used to be a Nespresso capsule? Sadly (for Americans)—it’s only in Switzerland.