Category: Switzerland

We are moving the family to Switzerland in July, 2010 for a full year. This is the best place to get photos, videos, and other updates.

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It’s the Little Things – School and the Metric System

It’s been a quiet week at home, work and school. Nothing particularly exciting to report. So, it’s a perfect opportunity to examine a couple more things that make even an ordinary week here a little different than back home.

School

I was a little surprised when Emily came home from school yesterday and said that her homework was knitting. “What do you mean knitting?” To which she responded, “You know… knitting,” and pulled out a small ball of blue yarn and two knitting needles with the beginning of a small knitted square. She sat in a chair and knitted three more rows. Later, she said that, since she can knit she is sure to be a good grandma, which I find funny because neither of her grandmothers knit. This interesting form of homework came from Werken. As in America, Emily’s school has music, gym, and library. But Werken seems to be a combination of home economics, art and shop, except in elementary school. Emily’s class goes to the workshop twice a week, and she has learned to do some woodworking, painting, sewing, and now knitting. Children here continue to learn such skills throughout grade school.

Additionally, there is a day next week when Emily’s class goes to their third grade teacher for next year. One of the reasons they already know who will be in which class is that the classes stay together all the way through grade school. So, even though there are several classrooms in each grade at Emily’s school, the kids you have in your first grade class will be the same kids in your class every year for at least six years. Once I realized this, it helped to explain why it was more challenging for Emily to make friends in her second grade class. The whole class had already known each other and been together for over a year. But at this point, Emily has made her mark and has a lot of friends, and they have all said they will miss her next year when they are all together again in third grade.

Finally, I have to mention a couple of units that Emily did this year. Around Easter time, she came home with a 7-page book she had made about the creation of the world. And it was the creation story from the Bible. The one where God created the heavens and the earth, night and day, water and land, plants, animals and people all in 6 days, and then rested. There was a different artistic rendition for each of the days. With all of the debate that goes on in America about the teaching of evolution, I was very surprised by this. Then, about a month later she did a whole unit on the story of Joseph, one of the sons of Jacob from the Book of Genesis. You know, the one with the “Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat.” Again, I was a little surprised by this. Emily goes to a public school here, but apparently the separation of Church and State isn’t something the Swiss worry about.

We have mentioned some other differences in school here in the past. And of course, as our friends back home are starting their summer vacations, we are still in school here for another 2 1/2 more weeks!

Metric System

Switzerland, along with most of Europe and the rest of the world, uses the metric system. Even though it is part of so many things in our daily lives, it has taken me a long time to adjust to this, and I still haven’t completely switched over. When I check the weather, it is in celsius, so the high today was 22ºC, which is about the same as the temperature in the “heated” pools around here. When I cook, the oven usually gets set to something between 150º-200ºC.

In cooking, there are no cups for measuring, but rather everything is in grams or deciliters. And the same is true at the grocery store. Produce and meat are sold per 100g or kilogram (and you better look closely because there’s a big difference!) Liquids are sold by the liter or deciliter at the store and in restaurants. A small soda is usually 3dl while a regular beer is 5dl.

Distances on a map are in kilometers, though without a car, I don’t deal with that much. But other measurements of length are also metric, so when we would rent skis and they asked us how tall we are, they needed it in centimeters. Incidentally, I’m about 168cm tall. And then they always needed our weight in kilograms. This is the one I actually really like since 68kg sounds so much better than the equivalent in pounds!

This isn’t really a metric thing, but they also use a 24-hour clock here rather than AM and PM. So, since it is nearly 22:00, it’s time for me to get ready for bed.

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Flashback from a Friend

Our friend Will came to visit back in May. We met him in the mountains for some cloudy hiking, and spent four fun-filled days together. Now that he is settled back in Chicago, he had a chance to send us his thoughts and memories…

I finally made it to Switzerland to visit the Schwabs this May.  When I first heard they were going to spend a year there, I knew I wanted to visit and fortunately was able to make it out there and everyone went way out of their way to make sure I had a good time seeing the country.

After a day or so on my own near Lake Geneva, I arrived to meet the Schwabs in Zermatt – the home of the Matterhorn.  Joe met me at the train station – beer in hand – and helped guide me back to our hotel.  Which was good because our original hotel had apparently closed for renovation and re-booked us elsewhere.   After getting situated, I got to meet the adorable Schwab children (some of whom called me “Will” and some of whom called me “Uncle Will”), and we toured the very touristy (by Swiss standards – still very quaint) town and had dinner and made our plans to summit the mighty Matterhorn the next day.

However, it was quite foggy the next morning.  Despite this we boarded the train to the Gornergrat and went up almost 10,000 feet.  We couldn’t quite make out the famous Matterhorn peak, but saw many gorgeous sites along the trip (lots of waterfalls!) and the train ride itself was very cool.  Then we hopped on the train to Grindelwald, which despite 3 train changes was an extremely scenic and beautiful ride past Lake Thun and various other scenic Swiss regions.   

Joe and I went to the “Top of Europe” station the next day on the Jungfrauoch.  It was also a bit cloudy but a very cool experience.  I especially enjoyed the exhibit at the top where we were able to walk inside an actual glacier.  And, at 11,000+ feet I definitely felt the altitude.  We met Sarah and the kids a bit lower in the mountains at Kleine Scheidegg and hiked down a bit to the Wengeralp station.  The weather alternated wildly between snow, rain, sun … and we had a very pleasant 30-minute hike while examining the terrain (frog eggs!) and hearing what we thought were avalanches. 

Then we took the train back to Munsingen, and immediately headed out to the nearby farm to get some groceries, but there was a lot of commotion.  Apparently, a cow was giving birth in the field but there was a small breach, so there was some additional attention needed.  Naturally, we biked immediately to the cow-birthing field and watched a baby calf being born!*   It was quite the experience, if a little bloody.  And we had a nice Swiss Raclette dinner at home – melted cheese and potatoes.

The following day, we relaxed in Munsingen a bit and then I got the tour of Bern from Joe and had dinner with the Schwabs at the Rose Garden – a huge park that overlooks the city from the top of a hill.  It was a beautiful view and the kids had fun with the nearby playground as well. 

Sarah and Henry showed me around Bern a bit the next day and after a quick lunch with Joe, it was time to say farewell. 

All in all – it was great to see my friends and the Swiss countryside.  Everything in Switzerland seemed super-efficient – even riding the trains was fun (I recommend the Swiss Pass to help reduce the travel hassle). 

Thanks again to Joe, Sarah, Emily, James and Henry for making this a great trip out to beautiful Switzerland!

Check out more pictures from our weekend with Will.

* The baby calf was a boy, and after we told the farmer that our friend from America had arrived just in time for the birth, it was decided that the cow would be named “Willi.” How many people get a cow in Switzerland named after them?! Probably not too many. We had a great time with you, Will, and we think about you every time we go to the farm and see little Willi.

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Action Cooking

Our diet in Switzerland is extremely different than it was in America. There are several reasons for this. One is that, since lunch is the primary meal of the day, our typically-Swiss dinner usually consists of fresh bakery bread (really the only kind to be had here) and a table full of sliced meats, cheeses, and spreads. This was great for a while. Its easy, there’s no cooking in the evening, and, since each person gets to grab what they want, everyone is happy. We tried all of the multitude of bread varieties in the store and sampled the equally plentiful selection of Swiss cheeses. Though James mostly subsisted on peanut butter and jelly, still his favorite combination, and definitely NOT Swiss. (They do have peanut butter here, but only one generic option, and I think we are the only ones who buy it.)

Meanwhile, I have to cook lunch for all the kids, since Emily and James come home from school at noon each day. Cooking a hot lunch each day for myself and three kids has proven to be more of a challenge. For starters, they’re kids. They are fairly picky, though they have learned to try anything I put in front of them. After some trial and error, I learned that it is NOT worth spending an hour making something that I consider to be nice, only to sit down for 15 minutes and watch them pick at it and complain that it isn’t very good and be stuck with a ton of leftovers.

The other reason our food is so different is shopping. Technically, most of the food we get in America is also available here. It’s just so darn expensive! Meat is particularly expensive. Cheap meat includes a variety of sausages, leberkase (a bologna-like meatloaf), pork chops and some chicken, and usually costs about $9-10 per pound.* Better cuts of meat, especially beef and fish, usually cost around $20 per pound or more. Needless to say, we haven’t eaten much beef while living in Switzerland. In fact, what we eat is really determined by what is on sale, or “Action.”

Back home, before my weekly grocery trip, I would plan out meals and put the ingredients from the recipes on my grocery list. Here, when I go to the grocery store, I head straight to the Action meat case at the front of the store where all of the meat is discounted. Whatever is on sale usually becomes our meals for the next several days, and once we get it home I figure out what to do with it. However, it tends to be the same things, and there is only so much you can do with sausages, pork chops, and whole chickens. Recently, I’ve been walking past the Action meat without getting anything because I am craving something different.

A few days ago, I bought one of the larger cuts of meat in the Action section, which I usually avoid because of their size and because I don’t really know what to do with them. I picked out something called Schweinsbraten Hals, which was only $7.25 per pound, but it weighed 2.6 pounds. Today, I looked up what that is, and found out it is a pork neck roast. I looked up a recipe, and it takes 3.5 hours to roast! So, it’s in the oven now and it will be our dinner tonight. And that’s the last thing I have in the refrigerator, so tomorrow I’ll head to Migros and see what’s on Action.

* Note: Food here is sold by the 100grams (or sometimes by the kilogram), and is priced in Swiss Francs, but I did the math.

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Next Stop: PZM

Last weekend we once again visited the Dampfbahn in our town of Münsingen. It is a small sized train that people can ride. Kind of like a cross between a model train and an actual train. It is run by a club of train enthusiasts, the Dampfbahn Aaretal, who are really serious about their trains. They have several real steam engines that require them to shovel small hunks of coal with a tiny shovel and to fill the tanks with water from the watering stations. The track is quite extensive, taking riders about a quarter mile from the main station, train sheds, and turn-table, around a playground, past switches, and through a tunnel. The kids love it, especially Henry. He waves at all the spectators along the way.

Some of the spectators here, however, are a little… different. See, the Dampfbahn is located on the campus of the PZM, or Psychiatriezentrum Münsingen, a huge psychiatric hospital located right in our town. It is actually a beautiful campus with nice architecture, a green house, a cafe, playground, mini golf, and of course the Dampfbahn. It is a popular place to hang out, especially for families. But, between the kids and parents sitting on the train, you will often see a patient riding on the handicapped train car. They wave from the steps of their buildings or from their wheelchairs as they are pushed around by nurses. Depending on their level of care, they also ride the buses in town going to and from the center.

The whole point is to integrate the center with the community as much as possible so it doesn’t become isolated. And, from what I can see, it has been highly successful. It reminds me a little of the St. Ann Center in Milwaukee where both Emily and James went to daycare a number of years ago. There was an adult daycare program for elderly and mentally handicapped people along with the children’s daycare. They got to interact with each other, which is wonderful for both groups. But, St. Ann’s didn’t have a Dampfbahn!

We have visited the PZM many times, even bringing some of our guests there. I put together a collection of pictures of the good times we’ve had at the PZM:

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It’s the Little Things – Mustard and Bat Caves

It’s been a while since I wrote a post in this series. The kids and I are home this week, playing and going on outings. So, I thought I would highlight a couple of things that continue to make our daily life here a little different than back home.

Mustard

I took all three kids to the grocery store this week, a feat that is even more challenging without a car and without those neat car-shaped grocery carts, which would never fit around the corners here. There are tons of little differences in the products here, starting with different brands and languages. But, there are a couple of categories I wanted to mention specifically. First, a lot of the food that we buy here is similar to what we have back home, but it is just packaged differently. Mustard and mayonnaise come in large, aluminum tooth-paste tubes. Apple sauce comes in tin cans. And juice and milk often come in rectangular cartons, like a giant juice box. There are a couple of things here that are taboo in the US like Aromat (a seasoning shaker of MSG) and saccharine tablets for sweetening coffee. The supposed health risks of these items have been debunked, but they never recovered in the US. And there are a couple of things that I just can’t find here, including baking soda and brown sugar (I’ve learned to substitute “raw cane sugar,” though it doesn’t pack the way I’m used to).

These are just a few of the many differences in food products that make grocery shopping or opening my refrigerator almost a cultural experience.

Bat Caves

Today I took the kids to a place called Papiliorama northwest of Bern. It has an outdoor petting farm and playground, and three large enclosures: butterflies, jungles, and nocturnal animals. The latter enclosure was very dark, lit only by dim blue lights. There were night sounds playing as you walk through a maze past owls, fish and other animals. We were squatted down looking at some fish when I noticed something swoop by. “Was that a bat?” I wondered to myself. And, sure enough, moments later another one swooped by just ahead of us. I didn’t say anything, as I didn’t want to scare the kids, so we just kept walking. More and more of them flew by, and James finally said something. I explained that they were just little fruit bats, and they wouldn’t hurt us. The kids seemed okay with this, and Henry repeated my explanation every time one flew by.

The trail led into another area through some of those thick plastic blinds intended to keep things from escaping. Suddenly there were even more bats flitting around – apparently the first few were just the ones that had gotten out of the enclosed area. Several bats flew so close to me, I felt the breeze as they passed. Then the path led into a cave. It was no more than 6 feet tall or across and about 15 feet long, and there were bats everywhere. They were hanging from the ceiling and swooping through at breakneck speed. I tried to keep my strong, confident mom face on, but all I could think was “You have got to be kidding me!”

The kids and I had a quick discussion about how bats can’t actually see, and the only way they don’t run into things is by sonar. Then I ducked my head down to Henry’s stroller and walked through with bats dangling above and whooshing all around. Every time I lifted my head to see where I was going, a bat would swoosh within inches of my face before turning at the last moment. I definitely felt a wing tip on my head, and I may have screamed a couple of times. Although it raised my adrenaline levels, I have to admit it was actually a pretty cool experience. And the kids loved it!

The reason I am writing about this here is that something like this would never happen in America. I’ve seen bats at the zoo in Milwaukee, but always behind glass. I’ve had access to animals up close, but not fast-moving animals in a claustrophobically confined space. It’s too scary! Or dangerous! What if someone got scratched?! They might sue! Well, the Swiss don’t seem to have these concerns. It’s not that things don’t happen. They do. I saw a kid from a field-trip group holding his arm and complaining that a bat scratched him. But they didn’t seem to mind. Scratches happen. That’s life. Besides, that kid was probably flailing his arms around, so that’s what he gets. The Swiss would never change something for everyone because of minor risks or the stupidity or carelessness of a few people. Besides, that kid, as well as all the kids who gathered around to see his scratch, learned a valuable lesson about personal responsibility…  Always keep your arms down when walking through a bat cave.

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Churning up Memories

The kids have another school vacation — something about “Whitsun,” an ancient holiday revolving around Pentecost that I’m pretty sure no one except Switzerland acknowledges anymore. So, last Thursday we went to Basel again to visit Isabel, our former host daughter, and her family. We visited them back in October for Basel’s Fall festival. And they invited us again for a nice weekend in Basel, including a day trip to Alsace, France just across the border.

We arrived on Thursday, and Isabel’s parents showed us around Basel’s old town. We ate lunch on the Rhine river, took a tethered ferry boat across, and went into the Rathaus or city hall. Then, they took us to a local festival in their suburb of Basel where we had a couple of beers, heard a local band perform and the kids got to ride ponies. After a nice dinner back at their place, they took us to our B&B to rest up for the big excursion the next day.

Isabel’s dad had planned a lovely drive through the wine region of Alsace, France, stopping in a few towns for picnics and sightseeing. He picked us up in the morning, and the nine of us split up into two cars. Joe and Henry rode with Isabel and her boyfriend, Marco, in his nice BMW, while Emily, James and I rode with Isabel’s parents. They drove us along the small, windy roads in rural France, which was beautiful, but much more motion than we are used to. Remember, we have been riding trains on nice, straight tracks and haven’t been in a car for any extended period of time for 9 months. So, about 30 minutes into the ride, I was feeling a little car sick. Meanwhile in the other car, Henry wasn’t feeling so good either and he kept telling Joe he wanted his mommy. Joe was trying to console him when Henry said, “But I just want mommy!” and then puked all over the back of the car.

Isabel called her dad to tell him what happened, and we turned around and drove back about a mile where we found them on the side of the road. Joe had stripped Henry of his puke-filled clothes, so he was running around in his underwear. Poor Marco was trying to wipe the vomit off of his seats. After much discussion, it was decided that we would go a little further up the road to the next town where I could buy Henry some new clothes.

With one less seat, I had to sit in the back seat with all three kids and Joe sat in the front with Isabel’s mom. No more Schwabs in the BMW! I had a plastic bag for Henry in case of a repeat. After just a little while back on the road, the kids and I were feeling nauseous again. I looked at Joe, who had his head back and his eyes closed. I asked him how he was doing and he said “fine” but it sounded more like “leave me alone.” We rolled the windows down, but a few minutes later, James said, “Mom, I need the bag!” I handed it over to him and he immediately threw up into it.

Emily was sitting right next to him, watching (and smelling) the whole thing, and then she said, “Ooooh, I’m next! It’s my turn!” So I stretched the top of the bag toward Emily, and both kids hung their heads in and puked their guts out.

Joe lifted his head and declared “Okay, that’s it. We’re done.”

Both cars pulled over. There was more cleaning and stripping. With a little fresh air we felt much better. It was almost lunch time and we were a little scared to get back in the cars, so we decided to have our picnic right there. Isabel’s dad was concerned that the spot wasn’t scenic enough, but we assured him it was fine. After the picnic, we took the highway back to Basel hoping the straighter roads would be better, and we made it without further incident.

Having completely ruined the trip to Alsace, we spent a relaxing afternoon at Isabel’s parents’, and then went to a nice park in Basel for dinner. On Saturday, we were on our own. We made a family visit to the Basel Zoo before catching the train back home. This was probably the last time we will see Isabel’s family, and it was certainly memorable!

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Family Ties

This past weekend, my cousin Elissa and her family came to visit us. They are in Zurich for a couple of weeks for work, so we had to take the opportunity to get together. We weren’t expecting to see any more family or friends until we return home. So when we heard they were coming to Switzerland, it was such a treat!

The weather didn’t cooperate, so on Saturday we mostly stayed inside. Her little boy is just a couple of weeks younger than Henry, so it was a blast to see them play together. On Sunday, we took everyone up the Niesen mountain for a taste of the Swiss Alps, but unfortunately it was foggy and cold up there, so they didn’t get much of a taste. Though they did get to see Lake Thun and the Aare river from the windows of trains and buses. Fortunately, the weather cleared up at the end of the day so I could give them a tour of Bern before they caught their train back home – barely making it, as we ran from the bus, through the underground train station, and to their platform in 3 minutes.

I caught my own train back home for a small mother’s day celebration. I had gifts from each of the kids that they had made at school – a sachet and soaps, a paper maché picture frame, and a heart-shaped box with decorative stones glued to it. I also had a couple of cards, including one that Joe had made on the computer. It was the most perfect card for this Mother’s Day, so I wanted to share it here:

card-front-copy

Mom, Mommy, Mama, Mother, Sarah:

We will follow you anywhere. We are your loyal, if ragtag, group of hangers-on. When you climb mountains, we hike beside you (unless you carry us). When you swim the seas, we float beside you (especially if we have our floaties on). If you put skis on our feet and point us down hill, we careen down the slopes with you (unless Daddy plows into us).

We do it because we trust you. We do it because we need you. We do it because we love you.

You are our Mother. And today is your day. Happy Mother’s Day.

Love, Your Kids – Emily, James, Henry (and Joe)

I am so blessed to have a great family, both near and far!

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To every last mother…

Swiss cows traditionally wear large metal bells on decorative leather belts around their necks. It’s not just a quaint tradition, but it has a real purpose. In each herd, every cow’s bell is tuned to a different pitch. As the cows go from the pasture to the barn, the farmer can keep track of his cows by listening for the tune of the herd. If one cow is missing, a farmer will hear it before he sees it.

The weekend before Mother’s Day, our farmer noted that one cow had not come back in from the pasture. He found her lying down, ready to give birth. He wasn’t surprised by this. After all, he is in charge of making sure how and when each milking cow becomes pregnant. And he knew it was her time. But still, she seemed to be struggling a little bit. He felt around for the calf inside her. The calf was facing forwards, but the head was turned backwards. A dangerous situation for the calf, and the mother.

Meanwhile, Henry and Sarah were showing my college friend Will around the farm while I bottled milk. I was in the milking room when the farmer came in, speaking to me in his usual Swiss German:

“Hey, Doc! Good thing you’re here. There’s a cow giving birth and she’s having some trouble. I called the vet, but since you’re here…”

“Uh,” I replied, not knowing what to say next. “What kinda trouble is she having?”

“Oh the calf’s head is turned backward, so she needs help delivering. She’s in the next pasture.” He paused. “I’m kidding you. I know this isn’t your thing.” Relieved, I asked if we could go see her. “Sure, no problem,” he said, “The vet will be here soon to help.”

At this point, it became clear that this was not just another normal day at the farm. Sarah, Will, Henry and I went to the pasture next door where a large cow was sitting down in the field. There were a few spectators there, and kids were coming and going as well. I’m sure the cow was uncomfortable, and may have preferred a smaller viewing audience, but she was otherwise fairly docile.

Soon the vet came and administered some relaxing medicine to the cow. Then things “got real” so to speak. The vet, now shoulder deep in cow, was busy threading some ropes into the cow to grab hold of the calf’s front legs. He was not able to turn the calf’s head forward, so they would have to pull it out. Once the ropes were applied, and the front hooves delivered, the Vet, the Farmer, and a Neighbor (who supplied a bucket of water to “wash” the cow’s backside) all began pulling as though they were in a giant, epic game of tug-o-war.

For a few minutes the cow laid quietly, sedate, while three grown, strong, Swiss men pulled this calf to its birth. Within about ten minutes, the calf was out. It was a boy. The farmer rubbed the head of the calf to stimulate him. The vet “cleaned” his tools and put his gear away. The Neighbor took his watering can back home. Kids came and went. A light rain fell and quickly subsided.

And very shortly, within a minute after the calf was born, the mom, previously sedate and unable to lift her head much above her shoulders, rose up onto her feet, turned around and quickly moved everyone away from her calf, so she could clean him. She licked him from head to toe, letting him know that she was there, and things were going to be okay.

We knew it was our time to leave. Everyone seemed to know that the two cows needed time to be alone. As we walked away towards our bikes, towards our home, carrying with us our youngest child, bringing bottles of fresh milk to feed our own kids, I looked back one more time at the cow with her calf, alone together in the field. A mother, and her newborn.

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Mountains in the Clouds

Mountains have some crazy effects on the weather in general, and at this time of year it is particularly unpredictable. We’ve been joking about the fact that the forecast has been the same almost every day for several weeks: “50% chance of rain.” What that really means is “We have no idea what the weather is going to be like!” It might be a beautiful day with a few clouds blowing by, it could be an overcast day with occasional showers, it can be completely different one valley over, and it can change every 30 minutes as the sky swirls around above us.

Last weekend, a good friend from college came to visit. We met up with him in Zermatt to see the infamous Matterhorn and traveled to Grindelwald to see another corner of our favorite mountain region. There were brief times when it was sunny and warm as well as times when it snowed and rained, and everything in between. Fortunately, most of the Matterhorn was visible on Friday when we arrived. The peak was obstructed by clouds as it is most of the time, but it still counts — check that one off the list! The next day it was completely buried in fog. Similarly, in Grindelwald clouds blew in and out of the mountains all day, changing the visibility constantly, and covering the peaks giving them an almost infinite feel.

The weather patterns here seem to be a reflection of how I’ve been feeling about this whole experience. Sometimes its great, sometimes its … well, not so great. And it often changes several times a day. My feelings aren’t matching up with the nice smooth “cultural adjustment curve” that I wrote about a while ago. Aren’t I supposed to be adjusted by now? Shouldn’t I be on a nice, smooth upward path toward feeling “at home” in my new culture? But I’m not.

Looking back, I am definitely more comfortable here than I was six months ago. My accomplishments are getting bigger. But I still make lots of mistakes and struggle with differences all the time. So, I went in search of a new model, and I found it! The “Stress-Adaptation-Growth” model was described by Young Yun Kim in her 2002 book about Cross-Cultural Adaptation. She sees the cultural adaptation process as a spiral in which each new stressful experience contributes toward personal growth. Sort of a one-step-back, two-steps-forward approach. This is much more reflective of how I feel. Many more ups and downs. Both sunshine and rain.

Just like the weather in Switzerland, this model is much more volatile than the original curve, and there is no “peak” in view toward which we aspire. We simply take each challenge as it comes, and do our best to use it as a catalyst for growth. And we recognize that without the challenges, there is no growth. That feels like a universal truth that is not just specific to our experience, but something we can share with everyone. And, as we hike through the cloudy, tumultuous mountains, that is the most comforting thing of all.

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At the fair

On Wednesday afternoon, I took the kids to the BEA, which seems to be the equivalent to the State Fair for the canton of Bern. Now, since the entire country of Switzerland is smaller than most states, this was really more like a county fair. In the past 8 months, we’ve been to the largest fair in Europe (Oktoberfest), a local fair in Germany (Barthelmarkt), a large festival in Switzerland (Herbstmesse in Basel), and so we had to cap it off with our own local festival.

There were some similarities between all the festivals. I swear they all rent the same rides from the same company. Our kids even recognize them and know which ones they like. Emily likes the one we’ve dubbed the “whirl and puke,” which no one will ride with her anymore after our experience in Basel. But, now that she is 8 years old, she can ride it on her own. There were fewer rides at the BEA, but the ferris wheel is always a favorite that we can all do together.

The food is also similar, especially the sweets. I am a softie when it comes to cotton candy, probably because I loved it when I was a kid (okay, so I still do), and my parents never let me get it. So, we bought three huge cotton candies, which my kids devoured with a little help from their mom. The festivals all have more traditional sweets like magenbrot, as well as other food like wurst. I have to admit, I still like the German food best.

The BEA had something the other festivals didn’t… animals. It really felt like a county fair, with local farmers showing off their livestock. We saw horses, sheep, goats, pigs, Bernese mountain dogs, and even birds and rabbits. There were no cows, which I found surprising in a country with such a “cow culture.” However, at this time of year, Swiss cows are all going out to pasture after a long, cooped-up winter. We saw lots of them on the way to the fair, so I guess that’s good enough.

The fair was a lot of fun, but also pretty exhausting. So, when we missed our train home by about 45 seconds, watching it pull out of the station as we were running to the platform, I nearly lost it. You would think after all this time, I would be better at getting to the station on time. But, alas, sitting in train stations is part of every excursion we have. So, the kids and I just made ourselves comfortable for the 30-minute wait, 15-minute train ride on a packed rush-hour train, and 5-minute bike ride – all with 3 balloons in tow!

A few more pictures at the fair.