11 Trips
It took eleven trips to move from Thurgau to Ticino. That is 11 times 600 kms through the Alps. There were times when we traveled from 38 degrees Celsius through 12 to arrive in 23 degrees. Sometimes it was raining, even snowed once, but mostly it was sunny.
We (a couple with three young kids, two grandparents, and a cat) finally closed one chapter. We are ready to fully embrace what the future holds for us in Ticino.
We left Thurgau with mixed feelings. We lived in a wonderful house with the nicest landlords, on a picturesque hill just above Lake Constance.
The Good
Upon arrival to the canton, after receiving our permits, we were invited to an integration meeting. To our biggest delight, it was held on our mother language. Imagine two ladies delivering the same message in two different languages. They discuss the flow between themselves in German, we discuss the topic between ourselves in English, while two tiny kids are kept entertained by us. Yes, it was rather chaotic, but much appreciated. At the appointment we have received immense amount of information about the life in Thurgau. Although, most of the information provided was not a surprise, it was a great opportunity to validate our knowledge about the society.
The people of Thurgau are nice. The staff at Swisscom, Sunrise, Salt, Swica, supermarkets and post offices were always happy to help in English or Italian. We were very well looked after at the doctor’s surgery and in the hospitals as well.
The Bad
There was only one place where English communication was not welcomed at all. Which is fair enough, being in the heart of the SwissGerman land. But the fact that Italian (one of Switzerland’s four official national languages) was not accepted as an alternative, has left a bittersweet memory.
The Ugly
It turned out that the staff at that place has spoken perfect English, but for bureaucratic reasons they have chosen not to engage in English conversation at all.
Goodbye Thurgau
We will miss the apples, pears grown on your land, Lake Constance, Conny Land, Pfädi of Wyfelden, lidos of Kreuzlingen and Weinfelden, playgrounds of Güttingen and Kreuzlingen, Choco factory Bernrain and I could go on and on and on. We are always going to be grateful for teaching our eldest to communicate in German.
Expat Mom Journal 