War of words

Switzerland, as I may have already mentioned, can generally be a great place to live.

In the name of democracy, it can also be transformed overnight by a rather uncomfortable atmosphere.

For example, when we first moved here in the summer of 2007, (I know, I know, I can't believe it either) we woke up one morning to find this incredibly pervasive, borderline blatantly racist advertising campaign on behalf of the ruling right wing party adorning literally every billboard in Zürich.

I think the visual message is fairly self explanatory; but for good measure, it states 'For more security' across the bottom.

The international press were up in arms, but the Swiss authorities ignored the hoo ha and upheld the right of the SVP to continue with their campaign.

It wasn't exactly the welcome I was anticipating.

These posters were removed shortly afterwards. But they were swiftly replaced by even more explicitly racist images (can this be possible? Oh yes, here in Switzerland, freedom of speech is paramount, so anything goes!)

It soon became apparent that this was the sort of thing we 'johnny foreigners' would just have to deal with every now and again.

I took a trip to town today.

The racist theme is still working out for the SVP; they're currently going with this one which depicts a woman in a burqua and a series of weapon-like minarets piercing the Swiss flag. It urges the voter to back a campaign to stop the building of a new mosque which is being proposed for the centre of Zürich.

Fairly insulting stuff.

However, the winner of this year's campaign to properly outrage the general public is actually an organisation very close to our hearts; the invalidity insurance departmen of the Swiss government (known as 'IV') who have supported and nurtured my girl since the day she was born, covering costs, offering services, heck, I am even entitled to claim for all my transport costs to and from the early intervention centre where she receives her therapies if I so desire.

During the last few days, however, we have been bombarded by some of the most offensive material I have ever observed, allegedly all in the name of 'creating discussion'.

For twenty four hours we were subjected to a selection of statements like 'Disabled people will never work 100%', 'Disabled people are always sick' or this one, which says 'the disabled only cost us money'.

The following day, we woke up to further text which had been added underneath each statement in smaller letters. The purpose of the new text is supposedly to negate the original claim and generally support the case of people with disabilities.

Allegedly the point and purpose of these messages is all about why the taxpayer should continue to contribute to the IV coffers; it is supposed to be uplifting and appeasing for those struggling with a recent decision on behalf of the government to demand an increase in individual contributions.

I didn't feel very uplifted, or very appeased for that matter.

And I'm pretty sure I'm not alone in my anger.

31 for 21: All over bar the shouting

Last day.

My 31 for 21 challenge is almost complete.

I can truthfully say that Down syndrome awareness month 2009 has been an enlightening, enriching period for me personally and I've been thoroughly engrossed in scribbling my way through it. I have learned so much since the beginning of the month!

I've written several entries about thoughts I didn't know I had until I started writing them; and thanks to the discovery of a whole new universe called the blogosphere, I've been fortunate to meet and read about a truly diverse and eclectic bunch of new on-line friends and their families whom I would never have known were 'out there' were it not for either the special chromosome that unites us or a love of Swiss cheese, or possibly both!

It's been a proper journey.

In fact, it will always be a journey - today and every day; after all, if you're not striving to advance and improve, what is life about?

This is my promise: with my man at my throat side and the kids under my feet in my arms, the Carter family will venture forth and never cease to love and learn.



Thank you for sharing with us so far.



PS: Why is it that after days of fretting over what tale to tell of an evening, today I have come up with at least five potential new entries? Expect to hear from me again soon!

Trunk or Treat

School Halloween party. It was all far too traumatic. So I'll just post the highlights as I saw them:

Oh happy holiday market

This morning Jaime and I attended a meeting together.

The planning for Sebastian's school holiday market has begun. It's an magical shop-until-you-drop affair. I stepped in and helped to organise it last year (blithely volunteering, how you do, in the early days of Jaime Kay's life when she slept a lot. Then I remembered that having a baby is quite a lot of work, but by then it was too late!).

This year, however, I figured it was better for everyone if I didn't chair the thing; (we were all surprised to discover that I'm fairly unreliable - imagine that, based on what you know of me so far!) but I am so excited to at least be part of the team again, especially as this year's courageous chairperson is brand new to Switzerland and absolutely oozes infectious enthusiasm.

There is an additional detail that warms me to her immensely. She's decided to dedicate the funds raised to the local Down syndrome charity again, just as we did last year. I can't wait to spread the news!

Incidentally, as the only child present, Jaime Kay loved the meeting. The (more or less) undivided attention of a dozen women sitting in a large circle and Jaime in the middle? Well naturally, she was in her element. Requiring only one prop - a small toy car - she was happy for over an hour.

Having a baby with Down syndrome: good stuff I have learnt on the way

Down syndrome awareness month is drawing to a close. My final thoughts on the matter for another year. Hey, if it helps one person as they roam through cyberspace, it'll have been worth it after all.

1. Down syndrome is simply not as terrifying as it may first seem. It's a baby at the end of the day; a baby who is more alike than different. Jaime Kay's my baby. I will always love her no matter what. The rest becomes surprisingly easy.

2. Having said that, it's ok to grieve. You don't have to be thrilled and pretend it's all fine if you don't feel that way. As with all things, it's better out than in.

3. Fortunately, one day, this dreadful feeling too shall pass. I didn't feel like it ever would, and I'm still not sure exactly when it happened, but Jaime's diagnosis doesn't sting anymore. Which is lucky, because I was scaring small children by spontaneously blubbing in public places. It was a pity party for one and the only guest was getting bored. But 19 months later, I can report that it's all very firmly a thing of the past.

4. Read. Research. Read some more. It's not compulsory, and lots of people I know manage without, but it I'm never happier than when I feel I'm making informed decisions that to the best of my knowledge will enhance the life of my girl.

5. Accept all offers or suggestions of services, therapies, advice or help. At first I felt very overwhelmed by the possibilities available, but went for them all anyway. I found the best way is to keep an open mind to all possibilities. Give everything a try. You can't know if it's beneficial until you've given it a go, and in any case, if it's not working out, you can always walk away.

6. Talk with other people who are on the same journey. I found this tough to do at first, call it denial if you will, but as soon as I was ready, it really helped. It's been tricky for me because of the language difficulties and cultural differences too, but fortunately, that's what the internet is for. Couldn't be without my virtual partners in crime.

7. If you relax about it all, a strange thing happens, and your child guides you through. My girl has become the teacher. And I am learning such a lot! About patience, about parenting, about myself, above all, about love. And I have learned that it is deep and wide and boundless.

A couple of articles from today's UK press on the subject.

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/family/6448172/Caring-for-a-Downs-Syndrome-child.html#at

http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/news/uk/health/article6891335.ece#at

One of the richest countries in the world

We've been chatting to a couple of families who are considering a move to Switzerland.

Interestingly but not altogether surprisingly, the major issue for both parties has been the staggering cost of living here. Even now, two years into our Swiss love affair, we can still be rendered speechless by the price tags on occasion. Unfortunately, there is no easy solution; there is a literal price to pay for an otherwise wonderful existence, and once the initial shock has worn off, it becomes something of a default talking point, rather like the (currently glorious) weather.

Anyway, talking with potential neighbours in this strange and wonderful land has caused me to begin work on a mental list of other useful things I wish I'd known before I arrived.

1. You need your compulsory health insurance. Don't put off the application as I did (the forms looked tricky and were all in a foreign language. Theoretically I speak the foreign language. Still. I somehow made an unwise decision to 'put them away' for a while).

As a direct result, you can imagine that I was a bit gutted to I receive a phone call six months into my almost immediate surprise pregnancy which went 'Congratulations, Mrs. Carter, you can have a privately insured birth from 25th May onwards!'. The baby was due on 22 April. I didn't think I could cross my legs that long.

Being Northern, I did try though.

2. You also need a Halbtax card. As the name suggests, this annual (or in our case, tri-annual) payment entitles you to half price travel for the year, anywhere in Switzerland.

3. You're not going to be accepted like a long lost friend on the very first day. Especially as this is a country with a far right government and a well-publicised issue with other cultures.

Two years on, however, we've made a vast and varied selection of friends and acquaintances that we would never have had the opportunity to meet and get to know in our own countries. Or in Luxembourg for that matter. Patience is a virtue.

4. Stuff works here. The country is run exactly like clockwork; an ironic cliché but true nonetheless. Everything is clean, attractive, and on time, and that includes the people. There is a proper service industry with intelligent staff that are friendly and efficient and helpful. So whether you need help with something at the local Gemeinde office, or you don't see what you want at the store, chances are if you ask, you'll come out with a satisfactory solution, which is nothing short of a miracle as far as we're concerned after years of living elsewhere.

Basically, Switzerland should be held up as a shiny well-run example to the rest of shabby Europe.

5. Recycling. Trash is charged by the litre. So suddenly you might think a bit more carefully before you bin it. The Swiss recycle everything, and it is a big no-no to do otherwise. Being Switzerland, there are rules in place to govern exactly how a person recycles; newspapers, for example, must be bound into neat piles and tied with string. I still can't get this right, so you can spot where we live by the dog-eared pile at our front gate on paper collect day. The whole thing's tricky to get used to at first, but amazing how quickly it becomes second nature (well, apart from the origami thing).

6. Everyone does some kind of sport. I mean, absolutely everyone. Last year I chatted to an elderly couple on snow shoes up a mountain. The lady said she was 84. She gave up skiing at 82. We met a group of people my parents' age who were ferociously competitive pétanque players. We've met snowboarders, sailors, skiers, runners, ice hockey players, billiards champions, kayakers, rock climbers, windsurfers, hikers; you name it, people can and do give it a go. I'm still struggling with this one too... Does people watching count??

7. Talking of which, a mention has to be given to the suspiciously high numbers of perky breasts and toned bods. I found this disconcerting on arrival, flabby and unattractive as I felt in those early days of pregnancy, but having studied the matter extensively (hey, they're everywhere - it's hard not to, honest!) I've reached the conclusion that were I a plastic surgeon, I'd be a millionaire in this town. Indeed, there is a whole area of the city which is home to nothing else but nip and tuck joints, so somebody's getting something done fairly regularly it would seem.

I'm pretty sure there's a thousand other things I've noticed on my travels; so when I think of more, I'll be sure to post them.

JK in ten

1. Name: Jaime Kay

2. Also answers to: Baby, Poppet, Poppy, Woppy-Doodle or Doodle-Wop (Don't ask...)

3. Age: 19 months and packing attitude like a true teen

4. Likes: Music of all kinds, wires and cables, messing up Sebby's room, the fireplace

5. Dislikes: Having hair done. Not keen on face wiping or manicure either

6. Favourite Person: Sebastian (still). Failing that, Daddy will do

7. Favourite hobby: Eating. Food is a Carter family passion!

8. Latest accomplishments: Going downstairs, pulling up on coffee table, lots of chatting

9. Current dilemma: To cut the curls or not to cut the curls??

10. Stop Press: Tonight's bedtime story was Dr Seuss Mr Brown Can Moo. Jaime successfully supplied a buzzy buzzy bee, a clip clop horse, a boom boom boom and a very earnest and super-quiet whisper whisper. Genius!