Geneva is the best place to come from in the world

And I will say it in as many languages as you want me to

An Israeli, a Dutch, a Mexican, an Italian and a Nigerian walk into a bar. They sit down, get a drink, and have a really nice time together. That’s it, no punch line. In those few words, I just gave to you all a glimpse of the unique experience that is growing up in Geneva, Switzerland.

Having lived in the U.S. for a few years now, it often comes a surprise when I reveal to people that I am originally from Switzerland. I am perfectly Americanized and sound and look like just like any ordinary Jersey girl.

My hometown is a place like no other. I do not know if there is any place on earth that will ever come close to Geneva in my heart. Being surrounded by such an incredibly diverse group of people, living in one of the global hubs of international affairs all while experiencing a small city upbringing is an experience that I doubt will ever be paralleled.

The Jet D’Eau in all its glory

Despite this, the reasons which make Geneva hold such a dear place in my heart are not motivated by the stunning view of the Lac Leman, tremendous skiing nearby or the UN presence, but rather the people I encountered in this small city that will always occupy such a big place in my life.

Although no one can quite put into words the all-encompassing experience of living in Geneva, the greatest summary of the experience I shared revolved around two central elements: soccer and doing absolutely nothing. That’s right, if I wasn’t at school and wasn’t play soccer, I was hanging around with my friends doing absolutely nothing, and did so with the greatest of pleasures every time.

The view’s not half bad

Whether I was doing nothing on the school pitch, or behind the school gates, at the Parc de la Lune, in the Parc Bertrand, sitting by the lake or hanging around in Rive, I was never for one moment fazed by it. I was always one of the busier ones within my friend group, being raised by American parents and having a knack for nonsense, but those days with my friends still remain some of my favorite, most cherished memories. We spoke a little, ate a little, wondered a lot, but most of all, just cherished this grand human experience we shared as kids who were from all over, yet could only ever conceive Geneva as their real home.

I’ve probably peed in this kiddie pool over 100 times

The city of Geneva itself can be summed up in a few words: a beautiful lake surrounded by overpriced restaurants, underage drinkers and the aroma of cigarette smoke permeating the contrastingly crisp mountain air. Everyone is up to par on their fashion, but still strides behind the Parisians, and the shops and streets are riddled with designer brands and always slightly questionable businessmen. While I say most of this in jest, let me assure you that I am not far off by any lengths, but I would not for one second change anything about the littlest big city I call home.

Downtown Geneva. There’s probably four more tabac lining the street and six designer stores

So if you want the European experience, with an edge of diversity and the quiet of the lake and mountains, Geneva is your place. You may find yourself confused by the seemingly ritualistic trips to L’Entrecote and Java, or, if you’re American, the lack of small talk and adoration for our local McDonald’s, but I can tell you already that you will truly never understand Geneva. It is a shared human experience, a network of dysfunctional entities, striving to create a unified, succinct whole. So swing by the lake, light up a smoke, and enjoy the Jet D’eau while sipping on your 16 CHF beer.

P.S: the best schwarma is in the Paquis, don’t mind the prostitutes.

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