Celebrating Schweizer Bundesfeier

The Oath, as envisioned by Henry Fuseli

Switzerland and the United States are both federations of states, or cantons, that retain a degree of independence unusual among modern nations.  Interestingly, both countries celebrate their primary national holiday on a date connected with the creation of a defensive alliance among its founding states.  Unlike the US, Switzerland’s foundation dates back so far that few facts can be known for sure.  According to tradition, representatives of Schwyz, Uri and Unterwalden cantons swore to assist each other in preventing encroachment by foreign powers, especially the Hapsburg Empire to the east.  As Wikipedia notes, the precise date might have been 1291, or 1307, or some other date, but the fact remains that it was a heck of a lot farther back that 1776.  From the original three cantons, Switzerland gradually grew into a federation of 26, embracing populations that speak four languages and many more dialects.  As far as I can see, what they most held in common was a determination to be independent of their larger neighbors, whether France, Italy, Germany or Austria.

Now Swiss National Day, August 1, is celebrated much as it is in the US, that is at the local level, with community processions, performances of traditional music and dance, fireworks and bonfires, and backyard cookouts.  But the best part has no counterpart in America, as far as I know – its popular custom of farm brunches.  Farmers all over Switzerland host (for a fee) huge breakfast/brunches in their barns and farmyards and folks come out and spend many hours eating at long tables shaded by trees or awnings.  It’s a wonderful illustration of the continuing ties here between country and city, as well as care taken to cultivate them.

Someone in The Spouse’s office alerted us to a website that listed brunches to be held all over the country, where we could reserve a place.  I chose a farm located in Unterägeri, a community just over the hill from Baar where we had hiked earlier in the spring and particularly enjoyed the rural landscape.  Pulling out my best German, I reserved three places, one for my mother who would be visiting us at the time.

Fortunately, August 1 dawned clear and sunny.  Though food would be served from 9 am to 2 pm, I had been advised to get there early, so we arrived a little after 9:30 -- only to find that many, many others had had the same idea.   

Plucky Mother and TS

We were amazed at the size of the undertaking, with hundreds of guests seated at tables set up in the barnyard and the lawn between barn and house, and a large buffet spread out in part of the barn.  Dozens of people wearing crisp white shirts and blouses bustled about refilling plates, serving drinks, and frying large pans of Rösti (a Swiss specialty, fried grated potatoes, somewhere between hash brown potatoes and potato latkes).  The operation was so massive that we concluded that the farmers in the neighborhood must have gone in together to put it on.

After a bit of time in line, we piled plates with selections from a variety of kinds of bread, cheeses, meats, fruit, preserves and butter.  We found places at a table beside a large poultry barn, and I picked up café crèmes for Mom and me – served with lots of hot milk in large bowls.  After we were seated we attracted the attention of a young woman carrying around a large plate of rösti, who gave us each a large serving, and soon after a young man with a pan full of eggs fried sunny-side up deposited one on top of each.  As we ate and drank our fill, we enjoyed the views across the green hills toward the lake, and the sight of children playing with young farm animals in pens set up nearby. 

Given that it was the national holiday I had expected to see many people dressed in red and white, the national colors, or even in traditional clothing.  But few seemed to think it necessary to display their patriotism in that way – I suppose that just partaking of the event was enough.  The only family dressed in red T-shirts with white crosses turned out to be American expats like ourselves.

As we left we expressed our appreciation in halting German to the farmwife who was obviously in charge of the operation and enjoyed the collection of chickens that decorated the beautiful traditional farmhouse. 

We spent much of the following afternoon in quietly digesting our brunch.  In the evening we decided to head down to the waterfront at Zug to see what was going on there.  Unfortunately, we arrived too late to hear the performance of traditional music; fortunately, we had already taken in an Alpenhorn concert a few days before.  

We did hear the faint strains of the national anthem as we took seats beside the water and next to a lovely gelato stand.  The city had already held a mammoth fireworks display at its Lake Fest in June, so the main official attraction was to be a large bonfire set atop a barge in the lake.  But many had decided to make up the lack of official fireworks with individual initiative, and frighteningly large fireworks were going off on the shore all around us.  Deciding that our spot was one of the most protected, we determined to make an evening of it, and paid rent for our seats through repeated visits to the gelato stand.  (It only seemed fair.)

As dusk fell we could see firework displays go off at neighboring communities all around the lake.  The bonfire rose ever higher on its barge and the voluntary aerial fireworks shot up all around.  It was a particularly beautiful and relaxing way to spend the day.