Me? Go to the badi? Fat chance!

«Want to go to the badi today?» is a question that sends shivers down my spine even in this sweat-inducing heat. If I answer «No», I’m inevitably met with a discombobulated look, followed by a suspicious «Why not?»

Now, I could say that I just don’t feel like it. But that wouldn’t do justice to the complex fight-or-flight reflex that’s triggered inside me. Not to mention it’s a socially unacceptable response that’s always met with objections. In fact, I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s high time this was addressed in a written discourse. My thesis? The effort-reward ratio of hanging out at the badi – called «bädele» by the German-speaking Swiss – is skewed. At least as far as my lazy bones are concerned. But more on that later.

The four fundamental pillars

First, let’s look at the four fundamental pillars that underline my «No», which all come down to my insecurities. The invitation to spontaneously chill at the badi is probably the only thing that manages to cheekily challenge all my insecurities while holding up a big middle finger.

Number 1: Leaving my home and being in a crowd of people. As someone who’s painstakingly aware of her surroundings, the hustle and bustle quickly become too much for me. On top of that, I feel obligated to keep an eye on unsupervised children near the pool. Just like I feel forced to follow the football that’s always kicked back and forth somewhere near me – an agonisingly long prelude – before it inevitably hits me smack dab in the face. I’m no professional, but relaxing should feel different, shouldn’t it?

Number 2: Doing something spontaneous. If you want to go to the badi with me, you’ll need to give me at least 2 weeks’ notice. Anything shorter overwhelms my very core. Of course, since going to the outdoor pool is highly dependent on the weather, it’s difficult to plan ahead. I suppose nothing can be done. What a pity.

Number 3: Lacking any swimming skills. Back in the day, I may well have earned my swimming badges. But today, I’d be stripped of them all. A few crawl strokes, and you’ll find me frantically gasping for air and reaching for the edge of the pool. You’d be hard-pressed to believe I’d ever competed in a swimming competition. But I did. My team was called The ABC Pirates. Sadly, that ship has sailed.

Number 4: Showing skin. I admire those so comfortable in their own skin that a lack of fabric has no effect on their confidence. As for me, bikinis and swimsuits give what little confidence I do have a roundhouse kick right to my gut. It’s something I’m working on.

Effort and reward – the scale tilts to the left

Putting my own shortcomings aside, there’s the matter of the effort that precedes the supposed fun in the water. It’s a mental monologue that forms a seemingly endless to-do list. It sounds something like this:

«Do I even own a bikini that still fits me? Hmmm... Maybe this one here? Alright, «fit» is a tad too optimistic. But it should fulfil its purpose. And I’ll just wrap myself in my towel. Right, I need to pack that too. Which bag should I take? I also need to grab my sunglasses and hat. Rats, almost forgot the sunscreen! Should I put it on at home or at the badi? At home. Don’t want to get my sticky fingers all over my book. My book! Now then, is there anything else I can bring along to entertain myself in an attempt not to look bored? Music? Games? A podcast? A magazine? Should I put my bikini on under my clothes, or tediously change at the badi? I suppose it depends on if I’m going out beforehand and if my outfit is compatible with my bikini. What if I have to go to the bathroom there? Badi toilets are the worst kind of public toilet. Everything’s wet – and you can’t tell if it’s piss-infested chlorinated water or just piss. Come to think of it, when did I last shave? Oh, to hell with it. I’m just glad I’m not on my period, that would have been next-level annoying. Hmmm, should I pack spare underwear or simply lie in the sun until my bikini is dry again – thereby negating the cooling effect of the water? I’ll have to give my hair a good washing at home...»

To recap: on the «reward» side, you get some enjoyment out of cooling down in the water. The «effort» side – put briefly – costs me my sanity. So, my answer is no, I don’t want to go to the badi. In the spirit of fairness, I would like to end this discourse with an admission. There’s one thing I do love about the badi that has certainly earned a spot on the «reward» side: the snacks. Whether brought along from home or purchased there, they make the stay bearable. Speaking of which – I almost forgot the nosh. Time to pull up that to-do list!