I was Brain Washed in Switzerland

By the Brent Christian Mission and I loved it!

The cuckoo clock I bought for my mum

“Don’t you blaspheme!” I hissed at my mum’s friend, eyes wide, voice trembling with righteous fury. She nearly dropped her cup of tea. My mum burst out laughing.

I was ten when the Brent Christian Mission came to our school and promised a magical three-week holiday in the Swiss Alps. By the time I came back, I was fully and terrifyingly brainwashed.

I was sitting on a hillside singing, “You can never go to Heaven in a baked bean tin, cause the baked bean tin’s got baked beans in.” I couldn’t remember a happier moment in my life (well, except maybe that time I had my tonsils out at eight and the hospital staff gave me cornflakes for breakfast the very next morning).

Healing for them was forcing me to eat razor-sharp flakes scraping the raw wound where my tonsils used to be. However, I didn’t want to leave that place. What can I say? I was a weird kid.

Grown-ups strummed guitars and sang along like we were at some kind of Christian Glastonbury.

But then, joy turned to Jesus. When the singing stopped, it was time to get our Bibles out and pray for our before supper, and then again before bed.

We did what we were told. I found the Bible studies a bit boring, but there was no escaping them.

Slowly but surely, I was being gently brainwashed into becoming religious, something I most definitely was not before Switzerland and the Brent Christian Mission got hold of me.

When the Brent Christian Mission came to my school to promote the brainwashing retreat holiday, I begged and begged my mum to let me go, even though she was a poor, single mum, council estate, three kids etc, etc...

When she found out she could pay in instalments, she signed me up immediately. Who wouldn’t want a break from this weirdo kid? When I think about it, what kind of parent sends their kid away to a different country with a bunch of strangers at the age of 10? 😁

My friend Bea, who was of Jewish heritage, also begged her parents to let her go. They must have needed the break too and signed her up immediately.

I remember my trip like it was yesterday. I guess the brainwashing makes an imprint on your brain that lasts a lifetime.

We stayed in a very large residential chalet in the mountain valleys. The chalet I stayed in was nestled in a sweeping green valley, surrounded by towering mountains capped with patches of white snow. The Swiss chalet had a sloping roof and dark wood panels, with fancy-coloured shutters on the outside.

Inside was vast and dark. Huge, long corridors, wood floors and panels everywhere. Our rooms were spacious, dark wooden floors with large windows. We slept in bunk beds, six to a room.

Our days were spent singing religious songs. You may wonder what a baked bean tin has to do with God, but that song did, and it went on for hours.

Most days started with singing Christian campfire songs that went on forever.

“You can never go to heaven in a baked bean tin, cause a baked bean tin’s got baked beans in!”

It got weirder. Cars, roller skates, biscuit tins, then personal.

“You can never go to heaven in Francis’s bra, cause Francis’s bra won’t stretch that far!”

What was this place my mum had signed me up for?

Every day we hiked what felt like at least 50 miles a day, but looking back, it was probably more like 5 to 10 miles. These hikes were exhilarating, through the beautiful, mountainous valley kingdom of Switzerland, where cows grazed with bells around their necks and lambs bleated in the distance.

The clouds hung so low I often tried to jump up and grab one. They looked just like candy floss.

When we reached the top, our treat, goûter, was a square of chocolate and a slice of rustic bread or a torn piece of baguette. This was pure magic. I’d take a bite of chocolate, hold it in my mouth, then take a bite of bread. Heaven!

Now quick march back down for more bible studies, lectures and seminars… and a quick game of rounders before supper.

One day we took our tour bus to a glacier and climbed it. I remember trying so hard to reach the top to catch up with the brainwashers teachers who were throwing snowballs at us from above.

I looked over the edge and saw a steep drop and suddenly became petrified. I remember even then at that age thinking how irresponsible these adults were, and scrambled my way back down as quick as I could, shaking like a leaf.

One day we did arts and crafts and I made a Swiss chalet out of lollypop sticks. It was a work of art. I was so proud of it, I even managed to bring it all the way home back to London and entered it into a play scheme arts and craft competition.

I won first prize, only to never see it again. When I went to collect it, it had suspiciously disappeared into thin air…

I knew that judge was eyeing it up. I’ll never forget my treasured lollypop chalet, even if it’s now sitting proudly on someone else’s mantelpiece while they soak up the praise for its pure, handcrafted genius. They don’t deserve it. I’ll hold that grudge forever.😏

it looked something like this but much better…

Another day, we went into Bern and saw the bears in a CONCRETE pit. I have never been so mortified at anything in all my 10 years of life. I couldn’t understand this cruelty. I felt sick and couldn’t look. How was this a treat for us?

I must have buried that memory and only recalled it while writing this post. I looked the bears up and am happy to say that it’s been transformed into the BärenPark (Bear Park). Its now a naturalistic habitat along the River Aare. The enclosure has grassy slopes, trees, a swimming pool, and caves. I wish I had seen this instead of the horror I witnessed.

We walked into Bern medieval old town and I saw the Zytglogge clock tower. I don’t think I’ve seen anywhere as beautiful as the streets, shops and homes in Bern.

I spent my pocket money on a cuckoo clock for my mum. For many years, it hung on the wall of her flat. Now I have it here at my house, broken and sitting on my bookcase.

My three weeks were up and it was time to come home. My mum didn’t recognise me. I was all skin and bone. I’m not sure if it was from lack of food or all the exercise. I really missed my captors, brainwashers, Christian leaders, and the friends I made so much.

Then came the blaspheme incident!

I’ve never been allowed to forget it… all these years on.😆

Alas, the Brent Christian Mission really did a good job brainwashing me, and it was so flipping easy. All it took was a slab of chocolate, a slice of bread, some praying and singing.

I’m glad to say it didn’t last very long, and I soon returned to my nutty little self…

PS: If you’re reading this and happened to be a park play scheme judge in the early 80s, and you just so happen to have a lollypop chalet sitting on your mantelpiece… I want it back. No questions asked 😉

Now over to you.

• Did you ever make something as a kid that you were way too proud of? And did someone steal it too?

• Have you ever come back from a trip and your parents didn’t recognise you?

• Did you ever go on a weird childhood camp or holiday?

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