When I arrive, I see them. A father and son. My car
bounces in and out of the potholes in this makeshift parking lot. In the
summer, this is a farmer’s field and I wonder how the tractors navigate these
craters without damage.
He is a plumber, the writing on the side of his van gives it
away, but I can also see what’s inside. Each of the back doors is propped open
by a pair of skis. There are welding tools, putty guns, piping and an air
compressor. Everything is lined up and in its place – very Swiss in its
organization and tidiness.
We are parked beside each other at the bottom of a ski
lift. The sun in shining and it’s what skiers call a “perfect bluebird”.
Father and son are both hunched over, putting on their ski
boots. The father tries to jam his foot into the soft liner encased by a
hard plastic shell. He starts to fall over and he flaps his arms around
his body to re-gain his balance. The boot tips over on its side with his
toes still stuck in the top. With some flicking, his socked foot comes
free and he almost steps into the muddy puddle beside his van. This dance
is a familiar one. Years of practice getting dressed for skiing in
parking lots, on the side of the road.
Finally, they both get their boots on. When the father
stands back up, I get my first good look at him. I guess he’s probably in
his sixties, has grey hair and tanned skin. By the deep wrinkles on his
forehead, around his eyes and mouth, I suspect he spends a lot of time
outdoors. The son is maybe ten years old. He looks like a
younger version of his father, dark hair, round face and dimples in his cheeks.
I am so taken with this scene that I am fiddling with my own
boots, taking a long time to get ready so that I can watch them.
There is little conversation between the father and son as they
go about getting ready, but they are both smiling. They each take their
poles out of the van and prop them up against their skis. The son’s poles
fall over and narrowly miss being run over by a car that’s pulling in. He
quickly picks them up and looks to see if his father has seen. His eyes
are wide, but he smiles when he sees that he's fiddling with something in the
back of the van and hasn’t noticed. They both put on their helmets, snap
the buckles under their chins.
“Ok, bist du bereit?” the man asks his son. Are you
ready?
They share a smile and the son replies, “gehen wir!” Let’s
go!
They close the van doors and the older man slides the keys into
his ski jacket pocket. He pats his son on the back and they walk together
towards the chairlift.
