Sechseläuten

15 April 2011

Sechseläuten is a traditional spring festival in Zurich. The largest of the Zurich festival's, it is a public holiday in Zurich but not the rest of Switzerland. Its name means ringing of the six oclock bells. In medieval times, working hours were controlled by the city of Zurich. In winter, workers toiled as long as there was daylight but in summer the church bells rang at six o'clock to signal an end to the working day. Back then, anyone wanting to pursue a craft had to apprentice with a guild and so guilds wielded a lot of power. They celebrated the first day of summer with parties in their guild houses - I'm guessing alcohol was involved.

The guilds lost much of their power when Napoleon invaded and gradually became social, rather than political, organizations. The Sechseläuten is a way for the guilds to remind us they're still here and has been going on since the 19th century.

The party - and it is one long party - begins on Friday evening when the guilds invite important guests (each year from a different canton) to hear brass bands ... and alcohol is definitely involved.

Couple on their way to Friday party. Our invitation must have been lost in the mail, along with our invite to the Royal Wedding. Sigh. The postal service.

On Sunday, alcohol is replaced by candy floss and huge balloons as children - anyone dressed in period costume is welcome but I think most of the groups of children were associated with a guild - parade through the old part of town.  There are also floats and animals - my favorite were the long haired camels.

Isn't he cute?

Part of the parade features children from countries of the world.

The main festivities occur on Monday and here alcohol - and plenty of it - reappears. In fact, many of the participants of this parade walk the route drinking beer or wine. Some of the participants even go along with a flagon of wine and plastic glasses and pass out booze to the parade watchers. Sigh. All I got was a bunch of flowers.  Only members of the 26 guilds- and their children - are allowed to take part in this parade. The parade is HUGE. 

Here are the flowers I was given - a whole bouquet! The parade participants hand out flowers and candy. The bakers guild throws dinner rolls and the wine guild shares wine. Somebody else handed out packaged cookies.

throwing candy

0ver 7,000 participants in historic costumes representing the city's 26 guilds, 500 horses, 28 music corps, as well as 50 horse drawn vehicles - nothing motorized is allowed - and carriages form one of the biggest processions of its kind in Europe. About 100000 people show up to watch the parade, with the festivities broadcast all over Europe.

The parade ends in a large square in front of the Opera House. Here is a towering pyre topped by the Böögg, a cloth snowman figure representing winter who was paraded through the streets at the end of the children's parade. The pyre is lit at exactly six o'clock and  the horsemen from various guilds take turns riding wildly around it.  As the fire licks upwards, loud bangs signal its progress. Soon, sparks and flames are shooting up and out: I don't know how the horses do it.  How long it takes for the flames to reach the Böögg's explosive filled head predicts the length of summer (sort of a Punxsutawney Phil Groundhog Day thing). The shorter the time it takes for the poor guy to lose his head, the better summer will be.

This year, the Böögg's head blew off in 10 minutes and 56 seconds, a very short time. Summer should be long and beautiful: just as the rest of the seasons have been since we moved here.  The party doesn't end with the Böögg's demise. Many people hang around, using shovels to gather up some coals and then have their own bar b que parties. 

Greg and our friend Dottie and I were able to snag a table in an Italian restaurant where we had a wonderful meal as we watched brass bands go by, still playing merrily along. When Greg and I got off the tram outside our local tavern - which also happens to be a guild house - we found our guild's band playing away.

It takes stamina to be a guild member in Zurich.



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Guilds in In Zurich, the guilds used to be powerful, economic, political and military organisations. If one was not a member of a guild, one was not allowed to work as a craftsman.

Spring in Zurich & Other Stuff

5 April 2011

We've heard spring here last year was godawful with lots of rain and cold. Well, guess Mother Nature felt badly about that because, after a mild winter, she is giving us a warm, sunny, beautiful spring!

Greg and I have been enjoying long walks admiring the flowers (and perhaps stopping for a glass of wine or two).

Greg wasn't really drunk when he took this one - just being creative. I think.

We weren't the only ones enjoying the wonderful weather. And there's always something happening in Zurich.

The streets are again sprouting cafe tables and chairs.

This is a neighbor on top of a building across the street from us. The roof is four stories high. Hope he doesn't fall asleep.

This is a gathering that had me stumped but Greg keeps up on the newsworthy. Apparently it was International Pillow Fight Day.  Sigh. We were pillowless.

They do a lot of stuff here for the kids. This is some kind of carnival.

Check out the dog coming out of the fountain. His owner cycled by us a few minutes before, with the dog trotting along at her side. They got to the fountain and the dog jumped right in!  Who needs Pooch Parks when you have people parks and fountains?

When we got home, as we were getting ready for bed, we heard some loud booms. As used as we are to somehow managing to precipitate bombings and revolutions in the countries we visit, we immediately thought the city was under attack.  But no! There was a huge fireworks display going on in part of the city: I could just see the pyrotechnic blossoms over an apartment building to our right. 


Here's the Other Stuff:

This is the month we were supposed to be spending a long weekend in Moscow. We had the nonrefundable hotel and airfare booked and then discovered that the Moscow consulates really weren't keen on handing out visas. After several abortive attempts, we gave up, figuring that, if they made it that hard to get INTO the country, what might they do to us after we got there?  Fortunately, we had booked through hotels.com who worked tirelessly on our behalf and  got the hotel fee returned.  Not so lucky on the airfare but it was one of those super discounted fares so not out too much.

While Greg works, I've been off having fun with the American Women's Club.  In February, we were off to the Emmental Cheese factory where we learned how they get the holes in the cheese. I'd tell you but it's top secret.  (Okay, so I forget.) Then we traipsed back to the bus and it was off to the Kambly Cookie Factory where we had fun making our own cookies and tasting the billion or so kinds they had. Not a good day to be on a diet. Not that I was. The factory visits were fun but the star of the day was the picture postcard Alp scenery. Yodel lay ee, Yodel Lay ee, Yodel Lay who who.  Eat your heart out, Heidi!

Oh, to be a mouse in this place!

That's my friend Dottie on the left. 

Katie wanted a chocolate fountain for her wedding but we decided it might ruin her dress. Look at this, Katie! Two never ending streams of chocolate: one dark and one milk chocolate. Oh, to be able to take them home!

This is the American Women's Club group that went on the Emmentaler trip.  Such an interesting and diverse group!

In March, Dottie  and her niece and I boarded a train to the same Bad Ragaz Thermal spa that I had visited with the American Women's Club.  You can stay there all day for only 40 francs. I told Dottie (and I wasn't kidding) that we need to make this a monthly if not weekly trip.
No good pictures as water and cameras don't seem to peacefully coexist.

So ... forget Oh to be in Paris now that spring is here. I'm very happy to be in Zurich, thank you very much.

Sorrow, Joy, Peace

26 March 2011

It's been an emotional two weeks.

Just before we left for a week's visit to Florida (business for Greg, play for me), we learned that our very dear friend Ram Bhat had an incredibly aggressive form of cancer. His long time partner, Marjorie, rushed him to the emergency room after he complained of shortness of breath and stomach pain. The diagnosis was devastating: liver cancer that had already spread to his lungs and bones. Ram died the day before we left for Florida. He was 69.  Although I did not have a chance to say goodbye in person, Katie and Heath were able to visit Ram in the hospital and tell him how much we loved him. 

 Ram was a truly remarkable man: a Renaissance man who could converse knowledgably on seemingly endless topics and a best friend to virtually everyone he met.  Ram was the kind of friend who always asked how you and your family were doing ... and he really listened and cared about your answer. He will be sadly missed but those who knew him understand what a privilege it was to call him friend.

We had just arrived back home - and yes, we do think of Switzerland, rather than Atlantic Beach, as home - when we found out my great aunt Etta had died. She was nintey-six and, like Uncle Lloyd, the last of her siblings.

Katie, Aunt Ett and me summer 2009

The joy comes from Katie and Heath, who waited until we got to Florida to announce that Katie is three months pregnant, due September 28th. Needless to say, we are jubilant. We're going to be grandparents!

As rushed as our visit was, Katie and I were able to squeeze in lunch with two wonderful friends, Pherbia and Burma. We ate lunch on the deck at Pusser's, closely watched by a three foot alligator, who is regularly fed by the patrons. (NOT a good idea for obvious reasons!)

Katie and I also spent a very peaceful, soul rejuvenating day at the beach club.  The water in the pool was just warm enough for me to take a quick dip. Then, while Katie read her book, I walked along the beach, listening to the waves roll into the shore, and realized that what I was feeling was truly peace. A life ends as another begins. Our life in Florida is ending as our new life in Europe begins.

To everything - turn, turn, turn
There is a season - turn, turn, turn

And a time for every purpose under heaven

A time to be born, a time to die

... A time to dance, a time to mourn

... To everything - turn, turn, turn
There is a season - turn, turn, turn
And a time for every purpose under heaven

-the Byrds