Three years in Switzerland: notes from an expat in Basel

Five years have passed since I left India for Europe, and three of them have been spent in Basel. Before that I lived in Heidelberg, so moving to Basel felt like a short hop over a border rather than a new continent. Friends still write to ask whether I spend my days skiing and eating chocolate, and whether every Swiss person owns a watch worth as much as a house. Neither is true. What I have found is a country that is beautiful, well run and occasionally maddening, with ordinary worries about rent and rubbish collection like anywhere else.

These are the observations I collected over three years, written in the order they struck me rather than in any order of importance.

Four languages, and one I had never studied

Switzerland has four national languages — German, French, Italian and Rumantsch — and which one you hear depends entirely on where you stand. Zurich, Basel and Bern sound Swiss-German; Geneva and Lausanne are francophone; Lugano and the rest of Ticino will let you practise Italian. Rumantsch survives among a small number of speakers. What nobody warns you about is that Swiss-German is not the German you learn in a classroom. After a few months in Basel I realised that half the words around me belonged to a language I had never been taught, and each city even has its own dialect: Basel's is not Bern's. If you want a head start, this list of common Swiss-German words is a friendly place to begin. English and French carry you a long way too, which helps, because Basel sits so close to both the French and German frontiers that a tram ride takes you across one.

There is a longer list of things you can get away with if you live in Basel.

A democracy that asks people directly

Switzerland is often described as one of the few working examples of direct democracy, and the description holds up. Gather enough signatures — around 50,000 — on a petition and the country holds a referendum. The result is constant argument in newspapers, on posters and at kitchen tables, and voters are expected to form a view on everything from tax to tunnel-building. Executive power is deliberately spread: a seven-member Federal Council runs the state rather than a single president, so no one person holds the whole thing.

Chocolate is a wider field than Lindt

Ask anyone abroad to name a Swiss chocolate and they will say Lindt. It is good, but it is not the whole story. Walk into a Sprüngli shop and order macaroons and a few truffles; look for Läderach and Beschle in town; and in an ordinary supermarket you can pick up Frey or Cailler without spending much. Cheese and chocolate may be the famous exports, but the everyday shelves are more interesting than the postcards suggest. I only discovered Beschle recently and wondered how I had ignored it for so long.

Universities that take research seriously

Anyone moving here for study or research can expect solid infrastructure, international colleagues and a lot of institutional support. ETH Zurich, the University of Basel, EPFL in Lausanne and HSG in St. Gallen are old, demanding institutions with reputations built over centuries. Practical help matters as much as prestige: universities fund summer schools and conferences, run career advice, and lay on skill-development workshops that are free to attend. If you are curious about what the University of Basel is working on, its Sci Five blog is a good window. Sign up for the workshops — they cost nothing and too few people bother.

Water you can drink from a fountain

Nobody visiting Switzerland needs to buy bottled water. Basel has roughly 200 fountains and Zurich around 1,200, all fed by drinking water, and refilling a bottle at any of them is normal. At home the tap is just as good. The only strange consequence is that you can, in theory, take a sip in the shower without anyone raising an eyebrow.

Hiking is the real national sport

Swiss children walk before they can properly run, or so it seems, and the habit never leaves them. Some writers have called hiking the country's real national sport, and the numbers back it up: about 44 per cent of the population goes on roughly 20 walks a year. I have managed two in three years, which puts me firmly outside that group. The people I meet on the path are equipped properly — boots that have been broken in, a rucksack with water, fruit, cheese, bread and snacks, a windproof jacket, mints, a camera and often a Swiss Army knife. There is a funny account of boots and walks that captures the culture better than I can. And if you want to see a Swiss face light up, mention Ovomaltine as a spread for bread, or hand over the biscuits.

If the idea appeals, you can even hike from Germany to Switzerland while admiring art along the way.

Adults play board games here

We all play as children and then most of us stop. Here, nobody stops. Friends will settle in for hours of Sedler, and I have spent many evenings on Werewolf, Who am I, Dixit and Time's Up. On tired nights the card game about building pizzas is enough, with everyone shouting "Pizza machen" at the wrong moment.

Even the rubbish has a timetable

A large chart arrived by post soon after we moved in, listing every collection date for our area. General waste goes out twice a week in the official bag, the Bebbisack. Paper is collected once or twice a month. There is one day for leaving old furniture on the pavement, and glass and tin must be taken to particular collection points, with glass sorted by colour. It sounds fussy, and it is, but the streets are spotless and the system runs without a hitch.

Flat hunting feels like job hunting

Three of us searched together and it took a month or two of solid effort. Shortlisting, booking viewings, filling in forms, assembling a dossier that included references, work contracts, salary statements, passport copies, a covering letter and a clearance certificate — some landlords even asked for parents' financial documents as security. Then, if the agency liked you, came a meeting that felt exactly like an interview, followed by waiting. We sent off eight dossiers, always collecting a post office receipt as proof, were shortlisted twice and ended up with one flat. Families have an easier time of it, since many agencies prefer them for long lets.

The paperwork did not stop at the signature. We had to arrange house insurance, find and transport furniture, put it together, buy and fit lamps, drill shelves into walls and measure windows before ordering curtains. It was my first unfurnished flat and I would have been lost without Swiss friends who had grown up helping their parents with exactly this. Everyone should learn to drill a wall and assemble a wardrobe, and I would happily see it taught at school.

Green habits are built into daily life

The same postal service that delivered the refuse chart also sent tips on cutting energy use at home, including small changes in the kitchen. Twice a year, as far as I can tell, the authorities compare your consumption with what was expected and transfer a little money back if you used less. In my student dorm — which was excellent — we were given a workshop on composting kitchen waste. None of it is dramatic, but repeated small habits change how you think, and they add up across a whole country.

Paperwork rewards patience

There is a great deal of bureaucracy here, and visas and permits can generate a lot of papers and requests for details. The only strategy is to submit everything, properly attested, and wait. When my visa was delayed I panicked and chased the authorities several times; the answer was always that it would come, and it did.

Yes, it is expensive — there are ways around it

Nobody escapes the cost of living here, right down to paying for certified copies and clearance letters. But once you know a city on foot you find the cheaper options. Talk to people, wander the side streets, and you discover where to eat and shop without wincing. Basel is small and walkable, and Germany and France are a tram, bike or short drive away, so cross-border shopping is routine. Keep your receipts and get them stamped at customs on the way back and you can claim some VAT. At home, Migros and Denner undercut Coop, Manor and Globus for most staples. Eating out every day is unrealistic unless your workplace canteen is reasonably priced, but cooking is easy and the ingredients are excellent.

Banks charge for the small things

Opening and keeping an account costs money, and how much depends on your job and salary. I arrived on a short-term L-permit for thesis work and had to leave 200 CHF as a deposit at a private bank, which is painful when no salary is coming in. Students under 30 with a B-permit get better terms. A post-paid credit card requires earning above a certain threshold; a pre-paid card, topped up through online banking, does not. I have been charged 5 CHF for withdrawing cash without my debit card at Post Finance, and while the same card pays bills and even Swiss Air tickets online, it is useless once you cross the border. Weigh it all up before you sign.

Trains, trams and the half-fare card

Public transport is excellent and punctual. Tickets are not cheap, but if you are staying more than a year a Halbtax half-fare card pays for itself: around 175 CHF a year buys half price on almost every ticket in the country, local transport included. Without one, look for Supersaver fares on the rail website. The day passes are the best value of all — a single ticket covers trains, buses, boats and a discount on mountain railways for a whole day. Search for "Gemeinde TagesKarte" to reserve one through your commune, and watch for discounted passes sold at Coop and post offices in summer. With two or three hours of travel you can reach most of the country, which makes weekends easy. Monthly passes cover city buses and trams if you use them daily.

What three years changed in me

I notice sunlight now. After four years in a city where the temperature rarely dropped, I had no patience for sitting outside in 30-plus degrees. Here summer is short — three or four months — and can reach 39 degrees, so the bright days feel precious rather than oppressive.

I cook far more than I used to, mostly recipes learned from Swiss friends. Baking a cat-themed cake for a friend, making Christmas biscuits, or putting a fondue or raclette on the table are simple ways to spend an evening well. Fondue in particular has become a small obsession; I may be its unofficial ambassador, and a T-shirt is on the way.

Basel also introduced me to art. The city holds 40 museums, countless galleries and the world's largest art event, but what surprised me was the people — artists and collectors who make the work legible. Art turns out to be far more than what hangs in a museum.

And I finally went back to hiking. My fear was not the walking but being left behind, which is exactly what happened the first time. A friend who is a serious hiker stayed with me at my slow pace, and finishing a short route gave me a lift I did not expect. This summer I also swam in the river, as locals do. I am not good at it yet, but getting in was the hard part. Next winter I want to learn to ski properly, and next summer to swim better. Sledging can wait — the first attempt was miserable.

For the quiet hours, I have learned that there is magic in being alone and happy.

Three years is long enough to stop comparing and start noticing. Switzerland has not turned me into a skier or a chocolate expert, but it has taught me to read a refuse chart, to keep a dossier ready and to enjoy a mountain path at my own speed.