Amy Challenger
Because of my husband’s job, we quickly obtained resident permits to live in Switzerland and acquired health insurance. I also found an international school that was willing to work with our son.
When we arrived in our hilly Swiss neighborhood a mile from Lake Zurich, it felt like we were welcomed with open arms — especially by local expats.
All around me were families from Africa, Asia, Europe, the Middle East, and South America who were also new immigrants. When I got lost in parking lots, tunnels, and tiny streets and constantly misinterpreted cultural signals, I expected to be scolded, but I wasn’t.
Our international community offered helpful tips and advice. On the days I was hopeless at learning German, couldn’t unlock a grocery cart, or failed to interpret labels on cereal boxes, someone was there to help.
Though our backgrounds and beliefs varied widely, we united in our general awe of our new, beautiful country. Most of us had no family nearby, so we became each other’s people.
Many aspects of life are just easier here
In our suburban Connecticut neighborhood, there were no sidewalks, accessible bike paths, or public-transportation options, so we had to drive everywhere.
Having the freedom to get around without a car in Switzerland has been life-altering for us. It eases our days and helps us stay connected to the beautiful nature around us.
Here, most people stroll down long wanderwegs (paved trails) lined with trees and primroses on their way from home, school, or the grocery store. If walkers need to rest, there are red benches perched beside fields full of happy cows.
We can swim, walk dogs, run, and hike pretty much anywhere on pristinely maintained paths. And if we’re traveling a little farther, the local public transportation is clean, safe, and convenient. Bus stops and train stations sit on most corners.
Beyond being physically connected here, there’s a communal responsibility for people of all ages. That means it’s even pretty safe for my children to get around by themselves.
Independence is highly valued. I often see young kids — usually wearing bright-orange lapels so others know they’re traveling alone — walking along sidewalks or hopping onto public transit to get to school.
As the US continues to deal with extreme political divides, we’re staying abroad
Amy Challenger
The US will always have a special place in my heart. But, for now, it’s not somewhere I want my family to call home.
Earlier this year — almost eight years after moving to Switzerland — I returned to the US to stay in Manhattan with my youngest daughter. It was strange to be back; I felt like a foreigner.
I had fun showing her our homeland, playing pickleball in Central Park, visiting writer friends, touring artists’ studios, listening to live jazz, and feeling nostalgia for the version of America that’s been inaccessible to me for a long time.
But then, I stumbled upon a wall of barricades in front of Trump Tower on Fifth Avenue — people were furiously shouting at each other about contrasting political views right on the street.
Sadly, that scene was the only reminder I needed of why I left in the first place.