Chapter 3: Meeting the family
(During my mostly self-imposed quarantine, I will be sharing a series of stories about how the relationship developed between Esther, a young woman from Switzerland, and me. Here are the other chapters: Chapter 1: The Encounter, Chapter 2: The Courtship )
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| Esther's parents and mine at the wedding |
It was dark and raining hard when we pulled into the train station at Thurnen in the Gürbe River Valley between Bern and Thun, the closest to Esther’s home in Rüti bei Riggisberg, Switzerland. I was traveling with one large suitcase and a guitar case. They were quickly loaded into the rear compartment of a Volvo station wagon and Esther, her mom, dad and I packed into the passenger seats. The car smelled like sour milk since it was used to take the twice-daily milk cans from the farm to the nearby creamery.
I didn’t say a word. Because of the warning Esther got from her mother, I was wondering what was going through Esther’s parents’ heads as we headed for the hills. Literally. Esther’s dad navigated the twisty mountain curves like an expert but left me breathless with the speed we were traveling on rain-slicked roads as the car careened around bend after bend, continually gaining altitude. I was exhausted from 23-hour trip without sleep, yet excited to be with Esther and the adventures that lay ahead.
It was still raining when we finally arrived at Esther’s home, a typical Swiss house-barn facility with a tile roof. The structure looked huge, but less than a third was her family’s living quarters. The rest consisted of a stable for ten cows, a pen for several pigs, and a hay loft under the roof that covered the entire square footage of the building.
My luggage was left on the porch beside the stairs that led up to the bedrooms. We entered the living room and it was filled to capacity with Esther’s family, eagerly waiting to see this exotic creature from the “land of unlimited opportunities.” How would he fulfill their stereotypes of this interesting land? Many of their compatriots fled there in earlier times and many now wanted to visit after being inundated with popular culture and products from there. It continued to be a place for escaping the strictures of Switzerland in the unconscious of many Swiss people.
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| Esther's siblings |
Six of Esther’s nine siblings along with her mother, father, grandmother and uncle were seated around the living room in what appeared to be a circle. They placed me center stage. I felt like an animal in a cage at a zoo. Twenty eyes stared at me, waiting expectantly for me to prove I was worthy of their affection—or at least of Esther’s. I hadn’t been this nervous since I defended my graduate thesis on Spanish mysticism.
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My father took me to the airport in New York City where I boarded a flight to Frankfurt, Germany. I wore the only suit I had, a light blue three-piece with a light-black hatch print. My shoes were an orangish tan which didn’t match my suit at all but were comfortable. I thought I looked pretty cool, but in retrospect, I looked more like a clown. I fully intended wearing the suit for my wedding coming up in fewer than four months. I wore it to travel in order to have more space in my suitcase for other necessary items. Perhaps I wore it to impress Esther, who was coming to pick me up at the airport in Frankfurt.
I said good-bye to my dad, not knowing when I would see him again. I was intending on remaining in Switzerland if I could find the right employment. He later told me that he thought I looked visibly shaken after our hug and after I turned to disappear down the concourse. It could be, but all I remember is the excitement I felt at going to meet my sweetheart and a new land.
I arrived in Frankfurt and it was unlike anything I had ever experienced before. All the signs were in German, and I couldn’t understand a thing. I had been to airports in over 14 countries in Latin America and thought I was a seasoned traveler. The restrooms, the design of the airport, the way people dressed; everything was different. And there were no water fountains anywhere. I felt totally disoriented. A sense of despair came over me. What if Esther couldn’t make it to pick me up? What would I do?
I proceeded to the baggage pickup area, waiting to retrieve my bags. I had no way to communicate with Esther—there were no cell phones or Internet at the time. There was no way to know if she had even left her home to come for me. Was she here? Had she had any trouble getting here?
There were sets of automatic doors leading out to the lobby where people waited to greet their loved ones returning home. Whenever the doors opened, I saw a crowd of people outside, stretching their necks to peer inside the baggage area to try to catch a glimpse of their passenger. Inside, I did the same. For the few seconds that the door remained opened I searched for the blond head and bright smile that I so loved. Nothing. I had to pull myself together to figure out what I was going to do if she didn’t appear. I had no idea that trains run right to airports in Europe, making it quite easy to go from one place to another. Problem was, other than Switzerland, I had no idea what my destination was.
I grabbed my heavy bag and guitar case and headed through the “Nothing to Declare” side of customs and headed out to the lobby scanning the sea of faces for my Esther. In the distance, I saw her making her way towards me with a sly smile. Relief washed over me. I was rescued by the most important person in my life at that time.
The train trip from Frankfurt to Switzerland brought up all the romantic images I had of Europe from films I had seen. We stopped in Basel for dinner, right across the Rhine River from Germany. She ordered a Russian salad for me. The bread that accompanied it was wonderful! However tired I may have been, the excitement of all the new sounds and senses filled my heart with joy; not to speak of being with Esther. This was going to be an exciting adventure. Well, except maybe the part of meeting Esther’s parents who weren’t very excited about meeting me!
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| Infamous suit playing guitar for Esther's family |
I am sitting in Esther’s home surrounded by her family. I had a very limited vocabulary in German, and except for Esther, no one else in the room spoke English. Even as small as Switzerland is, Esther’s home was far away from urban centers where one could hear English, or any other language for that matter. Beautiful, but isolated. I decided that the best way to communicate was to play my guitar and sing. One of Esther’s brothers remembered that I sang Simon and Garfunkel’s “The Boxer.” After putting on a show of English songs, Esther’s grandmother, about 80 years old at the time, asked me if I knew any songs in German. Now that was not something I had anticipated. I really should have learned some before I came! Guess I was too absorbed in other things!
I racked my brain and came up with “So nimm denn, meine Hände” (Take Thou My Hand, Oh Father). I have no idea where this came from. To this day, I only know the first two lines from memory. I think that once I started the song, most of the family joined in and I simply accompanied them on my guitar. Grandma’s eyes sparkled. My singing, more than anything else, broke the ice and lessened the distance between this exotic new visitor and the sturdy, stoic Swiss farm family nestled in a valley surrounded by steep hills covered with enormous fir trees.
We had two weeks in Switzerland before I was to begin my German study in Freiburg, Breisgau, Germany. I slept upstairs in the “boys” room. Neither of Esther’s brothers were at home, so I had the room to myself. I remember the shock of seeing a MK-15 machine gun at the foot of the bed where I was sleeping. Swiss men are required to serve in their military from age 18 to 32 and keep their guns in their home. They have weekly gun target practice and two weeks of training every year so that every Swiss man in that age category is ready to defend their country on a moment’s notice. This was beyond what a Mennonite pacifist, who had served two years as a conscientious objector to war, could imagine. It didn’t change my view of Esther, however.
One night, four of Esther’s sisters, all single, invited us to go to a Tea Room for a “coup.” This is what the Swiss call a sundae. On Esther’s suggestion, I ordered a “Coup Dänemark” consisting of two liberal scoops of vanilla ice cream drenched in hot chocolate and topped with whipped cream. I was not disappointed. Discovered, however, that whipped cream in Switzerland is unsweetened. Didn’t take much away from the delight! I have ordered many of these over the years.
Only one of these sisters had a boyfriend at the time, and Esther confessed that she was worried that one of them would catch my eye and steal me away. They were all quite beautiful, and their father was pretty proud of all his blonde daughters. But I only had eyes for Esther. I did, however, enjoy relating to Esther’s youngest sister who was only 14 at the time. We spent an afternoon gathering up potatoes on the farm, and I had less problem communicating with her in my limited German than the older siblings.
One gorgeous Sunday afternoon we took an excursion to the top the Niesen Mountain near Thun and only a few minutes away from Esther’s home. The view was spectacular. I remember pinching myself to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. It was like I was on the set of “The Sound of Music.”
Esther’s parents still didn’t know that we planned to get married in December. There were several problems with that date. First, no one in Switzerland got married in December unless they had to. Know what I mean? Secondly, one of Esther’s brothers was getting married in October. Marriages are grand affairs (you will understand when you read the chapter on “Our Wedding”) and having two so close together would create a huge burden on the family. However, Christmas time made sense to us because it was right after my German program ended, and people traveling from the USA or other areas would have time off.
Being afraid of their reactions, we waited until the last evening to tell Esther’s parents about our plans. We had them sit with us at their formal dining table in the living room. Since it was our last night together before I left, Esther’s dad wanted to have a devotional with us and give us his blessing. The whole evening felt very stiff and formal. So that I could understand a modicum of what he was saying, he had to use standard German instead of his dialect. That made things even more formal. Later I learned that if I wanted to be an integral part of this family, I would have to learn their Swiss dialect.
The evening dragged on. It was approaching 11 o’clock, well beyond the normal bedtime of Esther’s parents. They usually got up at 5:30 in the morning to milk the cows. It was probably my duty to tell them, almost the equivalent of asking for their daughter’s hand in marriage, but since my German was limited it was up to Esther. I kept looking at Esther hoping she would start. I’m sure that at times my looks weren’t exactly pleasant. She just bowed her head and looked at the checkered pattern on the tablecloth. After a few more minutes went by, I gently nudged her with my knee. Her head sank lower. What was I to do? I was leaving in the morning and it was getting late. Finally, in desperation I blurted out: “We’re getting married. We want to have the wedding in December.” In my broken German, it probably sounded more like: “We marry want to December wedding.”
Esther’s face reddened. Her dad and mom exchanged startled looks. Esther told me later that since it was such a sensitive topic, she wanted to wait till the right moment to let them know. Of course, being Swiss and being part of her family, she would know much better than I when that moment was. I just wanted to get it over with. Get it out in the open. Deal with it. We did. Deal with it then right at the moment. The time stretched out even longer as Esther carefully explained our reasoning, hoping for their understanding. I couldn’t tell if they were in agreement with our reasoning or not, but they didn’t protest against it. Esther’s dad quoted some Bible verses about “leaving and cleaving” and wanted to offer another prayer before we went to bed. It was very touching and by the tone of his voice, sincere. We broke up the party and went to bed.
Chapter 4: The Wedding
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