One Step Back, Two Forward

Conventional wisdom maintains that moving is stressful. Moving overseas is somewhat tougher. But moving twice in two months is a real bummer. Advance warning: I'm labeling this blog entry not as complaining, simply venting a bit. One can almost settle oneself two months after a move, and we were fairly settled (for better or worse) in our tiny Kloten apartment. Just in time to pull up those delicate roots and move them to Zürich.

After returning from Paris and spending one last night in Kloten, we moved most of our temporary living items to the new digs in Zürich to join the newly arrived Chicago stuff. Actually, moving most of our Kloten items required three trips because we were aided by two dogs (we watched Dave & Heather's dog Vera while they traveled to Amsterdam over New Year's). Logistically, that was one large suitcase and one dog apiece for 45 minutes on the bus, train and tram for two trips, followed by an easy third trip with merely two large suitcases apiece (no dogs). I really credit Zürich public transportation, though. I coined the phrase, "Well, that couldn't have been any easier...without a car!" and used it after each trip. Of course, there was a fourth and final trip requiring our relocation company's van for Hobbes's enormous airplane crate and a new Euro-compatible TV we purchased on a discount through Hyatt, but that didn't happen until yesterday, 1/9.

That first week living in Zürich, from about Fri, Dec 28 to Fri, Jan 4, introduced the strangest emotions yet on this overall adventure. And not strange good (because so many strange good feelings exist, eh?). Strange like fundamentally unsettled for the first time. Partially an incongruous feeling because our Chicago possessions are here now, but missing key things we sold. Partially because we had just returned from a Paris vacation to Swiss real-life, not the usual U.S. life. And probably mostly because of the enormous pain in the ass of reestablishing life's every little detail.

For example, we started again with no Internet connection, no cable connection, no TV; a new public transportation schema, new grocery and convenience store locations, new bank locations, and new commuting connections for Steph; for Hobbes, new Robidog trashbin locations (not immediately obvious) and a new concrete neighborhood to navigate. There are new recycling locations and trash pickup calendar and different disposal rules; new washer, drier, dishwasher, and oven operations (not intuitive, but with helpful instructions in German, French and Italian--take your pick). The other psychological kicker was previously selling things we now need--vacuum cleaner, bedside lamps, office desk & chair, TV stand, TV area couch & chair.

Other general "apartment culture" challenges in Europe vs. the U.S. are a pronounced lack of overhead lighting and a complete absence of closets. In virtually all apartments, overhead lights are scarce and dim by U.S. standards (fixtures allow max 60W), usually compensated by a preponderance of floor and table lamps, which we never owned or sold because of voltage incompatibilities, respectively. Our first three nights in Zürich were just plain dark, the next two nights (including New Year's Eve) we fared much better by candlelight before finally purchasing our first of what will be several floor lamps. The challenge is that most Swiss floor lamps, while stylish, are still relatively dim for lighting large areas and outrageously expensive. So we needed to search out enough department and lighting stores to facilitate comparison shopping before making a purchase--our ultimate selection was fairly stylish, bright (3x100W) and outrageously expensive. But the norms do help illuminate (sorry, I couldn't help it!) why the U.S. uses twice as much energy per capita than Europe.

Now, please imagine something for me. First stop and count the closets in your house. Maybe there's an entry closet for coats, a sizable closet in each bedroom, an office closet, perhaps a kitchen closet, probably bathroom closets and maybe a closet near your laundry or in the basement. OK, now imagine your house with zero closets. Where would all that stuff go? I'll bet most Americans could build a 20-foot-tall pyre of closeted goods. Steph and I traveled to Europe much leaner of course, our pyre is currently only 10 feet (actually 3.05 meters). Instead of closets, the European system is buying separate wardrobes and bureaus and cabinets and drawers for every room. You wonder how IKEA (Swedish) became a €13 billion ($18 billion) company? Yep, lamps and wardrobes. So we're spending our "spare" time furniture shopping (boring!) and steadily purchasing, but finding the right items and arranging delivery and assembly doesn't happen overnight. Or even over a fortnight, in many cases.

So enough complaining (I changed my mind, I was complaining not venting). Where are the two steps forward?? Never fear, coming right up...