COMMUNITY LIVING

19 Feb, 2026

My glimpse into life on a commune.

As mentioned in previous posts, my colleague S lives in a former church that is now home to 20 renters. In Switzerland, it's quite common for people to live in a Wohngemeinschaft, commonly known as a WG. It refers to many people living together in a shared living space, usually a large apartment or a house.

However, the usual amount of roommates could be between 3-5 (I'm just guessing from my observations), but 20? That's different.

This isn't the first time I've happened upon such living arrangements. Many years ago, I also visited another colleague who lived in a similar situation—their WG took up one side of a small, commercial building. The ground floor entrance looked like it used to be a shop, but it was now the communal kitchen. I still remember walking in during dinner time and seeing people lining up for food. It was really overwhelming and I remember thinking, "I could never live like this."

A different way of living

Lately, with the state of the world and the media's obsessive portrayal of life in post-apocalyptic times, I find myself daydreaming of such living arrangements. What would it be like to live in a giant space with all my friends, where we can just "live off the land?" What would my role be in all of this? What can I actually do that's useful?

Aside from realizing that I possess little-to-no survival skills, I started daydreaming about living in abandoned buildings with former lives, such as warehouses, fire stations (I blame The Princess Diaries for this one*), and most recently, churches. I've seen several people on IG turn former churches into these fantastical homes.

*Actually, my obsession with living in unusual buildings started in childhood, because my mother had a book with this exact topic: People living in abandoned airplanes, tree trunks, a house shaped like a giant shoe. Things like that.

My dream has always been to live in a loft or to design my own home from the ground up. But that will sadly remain a dream because I cannot afford to do any of this. However, what if I did this with others? It's becoming more common for friends to own homes together, because finding a romantic life partner is really difficult, and traditionally, one would own a home with their spouse. So I love this break on traditions and I'm all for queer platonic relationships.

Also, home ownership isn't a life goal in Switzerland. That was one of the cultural shocks I had when moving here. In the US and UK, home ownership seems to be the natural progression in life, because that's the only way one could make rent affordable. But here in Switzerland, your rent is more or less fixed, it's extremely expensive to buy, so most people just rent until they die.†

†However, that's also changing. From what I heard, the cost of living in Switzerland is on the rise (as if it were cheap to begin with), and most of the Swiss youth are moving to countries like Spain or Portugal to buy homes there. (That's another story in itself which I won't dive into.)

Anyway, back to the topic at hand.

An old church

Recounting my first time here on January 31, 2026.

S didn't tell me she lived in a church. She just said "we" when speaking about her housemates, and "the space gets really cold at night." So at first I thought she lived with a partner, until it was revealed that there were 20 of them. Then I assumed they were all students, because wouldn't adults with families want a space of their own? But surprisingly, their group is really mixed, with only 2 students, people with partners, people who live separately from their partners, and even a family with two teenagers.

"One of my housemates will become a father next month," she said casually, "So there will also be a baby soon."

"So... will everyone just take turns taking care of the baby?" I asked.

She shrugged. "We'll find out next month."

When we exited the station, we were still in the suburbs, not the countryside. We chatted the entire way to her place, so I wasn't paying too much attention to my surroundings. That's when I noticed that we were walking towards a church.

"Wait, do you live here?" I nearly shouted.

She nodded.

I was beyond giddy with excitement. Someone I knew was living my dream? Well, wait. What was it like on the inside?

A community space

We entered from the side entrance and I was greeted by a long hallway with bookshelves on both sides, and even a small "shop" in the front—Someone had placed their homemade knits and bags, complete with a QR code for donations.

Further along, there was a bulletin board filled with polaroids of people. "Is this everyone who lives here?" I asked.

"No, those are people who used to live here," she said. "Do you want a tour?"

• 
  View from the dining table into the green kitchen. The polaroids on the cupboard doors are of the current tenants.

There was a large mural of a forest on the walls of the main floor. To the right of that was the stairwell. There was a small landing with a large window that was lined with potted plants and a long bench so one could sit and stare at the view, though you could tell it was mostly for decoration.

The first door to the left was the guest room. It was labeled as such, and even had a sign to indicate whether it was vacant or occupied.

• 
  Photo from my first night, originally shared in my NOTES. (Edited this one on VSCO.)

After I dropped off my things, S showed me where the bathroom was. Down the corridor were closed doors, some plain, others decorated ornately. I even passed by a door that said, "Atelier," with a cut-out image of a sewing machine. A communal craft space? So cool.

We walked back towards the stairs but headed left, up two small steps and behind some curtains. On the left was the door to the chapel and on the right was another area closed off by curtains. "That's where the family with the teenagers live," she explained. It seems like they have that entire area.

We entered the icy cold chapel. There was a large, broken organ upstairs. The floor was covered with worn, old couches. It sort of looked like a secondhand shop. "They used to have concerts here," said S, "But that was before my time."

We continued on to the other side of the church. It looked like rows and rows of apartments, except every door led to a single, small room. Some of them were opened, others had removed the door and installed curtains instead. There were laundry racks everywhere, and someone was playing music in the distance. It sort of reminded me of a scene from the Walking Dead—people living together and making do with what they had.

S showed me a bathroom on this floor. It was painted dark blue with giant jelly fish, and there seemed to be an under-the-sea theme going on. "MM is one of our artists," she said, "So she painted all of the murals here."

We ran up a narrow flight of the stairs to the third and top floor. "Dog gate," S pointed out. So she was "floormates" with the mysterious dog. (Who's a french bulldog btw, and S explained it's not that she disliked the dog but the breed, due to its health problems.)

Since this was the top floor, the tall, angled ceilings gave it a lot character. There was an alcove by the stairs with a wooden table and a large plant in the background. With some sprucing up, it could look like a cute little café. There was another alcove directly across, which was dark and covered in purple fabrics. "Is that someone's room?" I asked.

"No, that's just a space to relax."

The church felt like a fun house, full of nooks, crannies, and maybe even secret entrances to explore.

A garden with chickens

Fast-forward two weeks later, February 15, 2026. Read the first part here.

• 
  View from the guestroom. The tree in the back is a willow tree.
• 
  Lamp from the guest room. I love it.

Even though we had karaoked until 2 am, S agreed to meet with me in the kitchen at 9:45, so we could have breakfast together and then meet the chickens! (I didn't get a chance last time, because we had to rush to choir rehearsal.)

I was the first to arrive. The kitchen windows overlook the garden, with the chicken coop at the edge of the property. While I was gazing out the window, I noticed someone walking a frenchie around the garden. The mysterious dog is finally here! Perhaps I get to meet him.

Since I was bored with nothing to do, I started to read all the papers that were stuck on the fridge. There was a print-out of chores for the week, as well a list of admin responsibilities between the housemates. Not only did they share cleaning responsibilities, they also shared financial and admin work relating to the building.

There were two composts bin outside the window with instructions: The left was for inedible things, such as shells, garlic peels, etc. The right was for anything edible. Everything seemed to be meticulously organized, and the kitchen was always spotless.

Shortly after, I heard some footsteps behind me. I turned around and it's the dog, staring at me from the doorway. I readied myself for endless barking, but he just stared quietly, curious. Eventually he was led away and I sat in a chair to wait for S.

Minutes later, the now unleashed dog ran up to me, stopped at my feet, turned its back and stared up at me. "Pet me," he pleaded silently. I gave him lots of good pets. The survival instincts of a rock, I thought. Who am I to judge though? I also possess little-to-no survival skills.

S eventually came down and we had a nice and chill breakfast. Her housemates started to enter and one started to make orange juice in the juicer. It got really noisy and overwhelming, so S suggested we see the chickens.

We went outside through another room I hadn't seen. This felt like a game/entertainment room. There was a long wooden table in the center, and the back wall contained shelves of alcoholic spirits. There were two upright pianos standing side-by-side against another wall.

Out in the garden, S reached over and grabbed the red compost bucket with "edible things."

"This is for the chickens," she said, "They'll come running towards us once they see us holding this bucket. They eat everything. Even chicken meat."

• 
  Chickens greeting us at the gate.

We walked the longer way around to the entrance of the chicken coop. It's been a long time since I've been this close to chickens, so I was very excited. "Can I pet them?" I asked.

"You can try, but they don't like to be pet and they'll just dodge you."

I didn't want to scare the chickens away so I didn't make many attempts. I leaned down and peered inside the coop. There was a single egg. I grabbed it.

• 
  The inside of the chicken coop.

"An egg!" I shouted.

"Do you want it?" S asked.

Assuming the brown stuff on it to be poop (plus I didn't feel like carrying a single egg all the way back to Lucerne), I said no and handed it to her.

I crouched down as the chickens huddled around the red bucket. They were eyeing me up and down. "I think they like the colors on your jacket," S remarked.

Sure enough, one of the chickens inched towards me cautiously and then pecked at my sleeve. I giggled and it backed away.

S studied agricultural science and has a small plot of land to call her own. She showed me what she'd been growing: Strawberries, currants, gooseberries, and even oat, which she feeds to the chickens.

"What kind of tree is that?" I pointed.

"It's a willow tree," S said, "It's my responsibility to cut down all the new branches."

"So you need to get a ladder, climb to the top, and then cut all the branches down? I'd be scared to do that. But you like doing that, right?"

She smiled. "Yeah, I enjoy it."

I realized we hadn't seen the two cats at all. S suggested we walk around the premises in the hopes of running into them. She tells me stories about the cats fighting with the birds, ("Sometimes the birds win, sometimes the cats win,") and how they'll always eat the birds if they win.

• 
  The 2 wildcats in question. Neptun only has one working eye.

At this point, I accept that these are pretty much wild cats and no longer expect to run into them any time soon.

A commune

We returned to the kitchen for another coffee. It was nearing noon now, and more housemates were filtering in and out. The housemates are very friendly and even affectionate with each other. It was a very calming and kind feeling, to be surrounded by so much warmth. I can imagine that one would never feel alone in a situation like this, and how, in our current days of shallow connections, one would long for something like this.

This was more than just a bunch of roommates living together. There was a community aspect; a shared way of life. There was always bread on the kitchen counter, because it was someone's responsibility to buy that. (One of S's responsibilities to buy onions). The fridge was stocked with oranges, because they had ordered 2 boxes and got a 3rd one for free. One of the housemates was running in the local government, and his flyer was proudly displayed on the bulletin board (along with our choir poster).

I'm obviously listing all of the positives, and I still wonder if I could live like this because I have a lot of things and I love my things. But I can imagine, as I get older, wanting something similar. (I've been telling Daniel all about it and he already wants to move in. XD)

I believe, especially during trying times, it's important to dream of a better way to live, whether that be a new building, country, or just a different way of being that is considered off-beat to what is "normal."

When I walked outside to head home, the sun was finally out. It was so bright that I really had to squint my eyes. As I crossed the street, an old car rounded the corner. In the driver's seat was N, who also lived in the church. I smiled and waved, and he smiled and waved back.

I crossed the street and continued walking. I saw Chango, the frenchie, with his two people (whose names I don't know lol). As I walked closer to them, I waved and they waved back. Later, I ran into them again on the way to the station and said bye for a second time.

For a moment, I felt like I too was part of this lovely little commune, and it was a nice feeling.

Previous | Next

#2026 #blog #zürich