With this post, I'd like to convey the complexity of the Swiss federation. And, in order to plumb the depths of the iconic democracy, Nazy I joined the AWCZ on an excursion to Bern, the capital. Naturally, I was excited.
“Are we going to see the Parliament building?” I asked. “I’ve heard that it has just been restored.”
“No, that was last month’s trip. You were in America. Besides, I think they’ve closed the building to repair the restoration.”
“Maybe they’re scrapping the gold off of the dome to finance the UBS bailout.” I replied. “So, what are we going to see?”
“We are going, Dan,” Nazy enthused, “to the Bern Zibelemärit.”
“Zibelemärit? Doesn’t’ ‘zibel’ have something to do with onions?”
“That’s right. We are going to the world-famous Bern International Onion Festival.”
“Is it too late to get off of the train?”
“People come by the thousands. This festival is unique…”
“I’m not surprised.”
“… in the entire world. Farmers bring onions and garlic to the town square.”
“My nerve endings are beginning to tingle, Nazy.”
“The onions, more than 50 tons, are displayed in artistically woven plaits.”
“Will I be able to handle the excitement?”
“They sell onion tarts, onion soup, onion…”
“ Rings?”
“Are we going to see the Parliament building?” I asked. “I’ve heard that it has just been restored.”
“No, that was last month’s trip. You were in America. Besides, I think they’ve closed the building to repair the restoration.”
“Maybe they’re scrapping the gold off of the dome to finance the UBS bailout.” I replied. “So, what are we going to see?”
“We are going, Dan,” Nazy enthused, “to the Bern Zibelemärit.”
“Zibelemärit? Doesn’t’ ‘zibel’ have something to do with onions?”
“That’s right. We are going to the world-famous Bern International Onion Festival.”
“Is it too late to get off of the train?”
“People come by the thousands. This festival is unique…”
“I’m not surprised.”
“… in the entire world. Farmers bring onions and garlic to the town square.”
“My nerve endings are beginning to tingle, Nazy.”
“The onions, more than 50 tons, are displayed in artistically woven plaits.”
“Will I be able to handle the excitement?”
“They sell onion tarts, onion soup, onion…”
“ Rings?”
“… and even onion wine.”
“Yuck!”
“Local artisans decorate the onions to produce colourful…”
“Stuff?”
“Precisely. And the crowds joyously throw confetti and hit each other on the head with hammers.”
“Are you making this up, Nazy?”
“No, I’m reading the guide.”
“And it says: ‘hit each other on the head with hammers’? Really?”
“That’s the old tradition. Now they sell plastic hammers that ‘beep’ when you smack someone.”
And so it goes. I know that any description of such festivities is, at best, woefully inadequate. I am helplessly unable to articulate the clear difference between the Onion Extravaganza and other Swiss activities: the world-renowned Richterswil Turnip Spectacle, the Swiss-European Pumpkin Carnival, the Zürich Street Parade or the annual Sechsleuten Celebration. These traditions, with roots in the Middle Ages..
“Actually, Dan,” Nazy interrupts. “The Onion Festival began in the 20th century.”
As I was saying, eh, writing: We live in a country that has a wonderful mix old and new traditions.
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