You Can’t Go Home Again

The title, an old novel written by Thomas Wolfe back in 1940, has become a proverb. Meaning, you can’t really go back to your old hometown when so much has changed since you left.

And yet, I did go back. For close to three years, I’ve been back in the town where I grew up, went to school, had friends, played in the neighborhood, and went shopping. I was also married in the local church, and this is where my parents are both buried. This town, Kuesnacht, borders the lake of Zurich and is not far from the city of Zurich. I used to live up the hill, and I do again, now. However, today I am on the other side of the stream, which divides the town into two halves.

My parents built their house in 1950 which became home for my sister and me until we got married. We both left at the age of 23, and my dad and my mom lived there the rest of their lives, although my father died even before I left the house. Visiting my mother until her death in 2007, I noticed some changes, but that did not concern me. It was none of my business since it was not my home anymore.

Now, 50 years later, it is different. I am back to my roots. It does concern me. The population is close to 15,000 residents. In my childhood days, I remember when the number reached 10,000.  Now, in 2023, one-third of the inhabitants are foreigners of all colors, nations, and denominations. In the old days, there were mostly wealthy Germans buying homes or people from Southern Italy looking for work.

Today there are international schools, and in the stores, you hear many different tongues. Speaking English would serve you well! Tina Turner, who also used to live here, did not need to learn German because most Swiss speak the British language.

It took me six years of searching to find a small but still nice apartment that was affordable. Kuesnacht is still a fancy place. It has become very international. In my neighborhood kids speak English or High German (the German, which is spoken in Germany, but not Switzerland). I am surrounded by a Canadian and two Ukrainians as neighbors, a Russian family lives next door, a Brazilian family, and a lady from Bulgaria whose husband is American also live in the same building. Another neighbor is German and some of the Swiss spend extensive time in the Bahamas, Cambodia, or Maui (that’s me! 😊)

In 2006 Kuesnacht was rated the most livable town in Switzerland. By what standard, I do not know. As a child, I thought the world was like that which I saw and heard of in my town. I could not imagine there might have been anything else. Later, when I grew up and started to travel, I realized what a luxury town I grew up in. How clean everything was. If something faded or broke on one of the houses or streets, immediately it was fixed, painted, redone. People’s cars were always the newest model, were clean, no bumps or scratches, because the car was brought to the repair shop as soon as an accident occurred. Everyone seemed to have plenty of money. The newest fashion was worn, people flew to foreign places for their holidays. In winter my classmates went skiing in St. Moritz, Zermatt, or other fashionable places.

My parents no longer skied so I had to go to the ski camp with the school. We did not have a car. We used the public transportation. My mother cleaned our house herself. We didn’t have a maid. A gardener did not come every week. We all helped do the yard. We did go on summer vacations but did not go to fancy hotels and eat in expensive restaurants. Instead, we rented a little chalet, went hiking, and cooked meals ourselves. For the final vacation dinner, my dad did take us out. Still, I was kind of proud to be able to say, “I live in Kuesnacht,” although that meant utilities and such were billed just a little higher as it still is today! The affluent society continues to stand out now as it did when I grew up. So, what has really changed?

Strolling through the roads where there was once a familiar bookstore, now there’s a jewelry store. In “my” drugstore is now a store for glasses, and the drugstore is now where the bank used to be. The bakery, where I never was allowed to buy candy but had to get the bread, is still there but has a different name. The flower shop where I had my bridal bouquet made is now a fancy place for artificial flowers. The hardware store has become a place where you can have your nails done. And the nice little coffee place is for rent.

The house I once grew up in is torn down and a large modern mansion replaced it. In the neighborhood I used to play in, every other house is new, has an addition to it, or is totally renovated. I feel foreign. I don’t know anybody anymore. I remember only one neighbor and his wife. He had a stroke once. They still live in their house, and they are now both way over 90 years old. Many of the roads have become one-way streets or are not passable any longer for cars. There is one last farmer left in town, and by chance, I met his wife and she and I became good friends.

Yes, some other old friends, who also have come back, make the place a little more familiar. But neither of them lives in their old homes. I also made some new friends, also “kind of normal” people, who used to live in Kuesnacht. We are all around the same age, go places together, or visit each other. It’s comforting to know them. A little piece of homeland left. Kuesnacht is familiar, but still not home.

“My” Kuesnacht has changed. Yet I question, “Has it really changed that much?” I rather think I have changed. The old Kuesnacht is stored somewhere inside of me as a memory. So maybe, after all, I can go back home again, since home is in my heart and no place else, anyway.