July: first. August: first.
As an accented dual citizen, I get approached often. Wild and unfamiliar people enjoy talking to other wild unfamiliar people.
Here in Newmarket, Canada. When I open my mouth to speak, the question of where my past lives tends to follow. Ah, Switzerland. “Oh, what a delightful country,” is the most common response from my fellows Canucks.
Oh yes, Switzerland is delightful, and in many areas it has been built to match the postcards at the train station kiosk precisely. Switzerland is committed to its image. I am enormously glad to be a citizen of two countries that fly their red and white with pride.
Exactly one month ago I looked back on Canada Day, the Canadian national holiday. Today, the first of August, a second look-back is due: Swiss National Day. In the looking back, both the Canadian and the Swiss views in the rear-view mirror have come out well. Beneath the big thick bottom line sits a conclusion that holds for both views: I am grateful.
Switzerland, or more precisely the city of Basel, shaped me. As a coin minted in 1955, I got to study and practise the balancing act between history and rhetoric. The Basel dialect is a fast, spirited, and above all witty version of ordinary Swiss German. The subtle humour often feels somewhat British, and it has made Basel’s charm into something one of a kind. Basel’s geographical tightness never bothered me, because people from Basel are border-crossers. Lörrach and Saint Louis are part of Basel, not “foreign countries.” The way of life in and around Basel always struck me as border-crossing in spirit. And I mean that in the best sense.
Yes, Basel prepared me for Canada. And neither I nor Basel had the faintest idea that there was a plan behind Basel’s openness.
The people of Newmarket often have a quiet sense of things. “You come across like a Canadian, Chris,” I hear sometimes. That impression shifts the moment I open my mouth to speak. Canada, and Newmarket especially, did not hesitate. They opened their arms and their doors and took in the old hippie.
No ifs. But with an accent.
Newmarket nurtures several things alongside the town itself and its trails, but above all: community. Slowly and daily I am learning about the characteristic way of life that Canadians take as simply self-evident. Canadians tend to feel more at home in understatement than in the loud “Hey, I’m Canadian!” mode. Hmm — that is also the motto of Basel:
«Mir blöffe nid, mir liefere statt lafere.»
Have I mentioned yet what catches up with me every day? No, not homesickness — I am home, after all — but that deep gratitude toward the two countries that regard and treat me as a citizen with full rights and responsibilities.
That is a pure luxury.
I wish all my friends and those yet to become friends in Switzerland a grateful, firework-free, but hopeful first of August 2026.
