This nice youg world traveler stayed with my wife and I in the early 70s. His name was Marco, so we called him Marco Porco. He'd been to parts of Europe, and was now in the U.S.--Fresno anyway. He carved wooden spoons to support himself as he traveled. Different economy then.

He said there was no "Swiss" language and that there were' I think he said' three main languages as you grew up. He grew up speaking Italian, but learned German I think along the way. My memory only serves slop lately so it's not important to correct me unless it's important to you, and I don't mind a bit.

So he was doing an amazing job of English after only about three months here. By the time he got to my house he was damn near fluent, but not quite. We asked him about his living accomodations in Switzerland, what was his apartment like? He thought about it for a moment to form the words and replied there were five rooms: two bedrooms, a bathroom, a living room, and a chicken.

Very close.