This past weekend, we had what was, according to the newspapers, the storm of the century. People who have lived here for a long time agreed that they had never seen anything like it in Zurich. We got almost two feet of snow in about a day and a half, and it accumulated faster than the plows, salters, and sanders could stave it off. Add to that the fact that some of the snow fell on a Sunday, when few Swiss are working, and there was some serious snow. There was also wind with gust speeds of over 100 kmph, so there were lots of trees falling down, either from the wind or from the weight of the snow. The trees downed tram power lines, and the snow iced up the tracks, and the entire tram system shut down on Sunday, which is unheard of.
Not wanting to venture forth in the new Ice Age, I decided to stay home all weekend. My apartment was a mess, so I did some cleaning on Sunday, but never fear, I'm not becoming Swiss, because I cleaned against all of their rules. I did two loads of laundry, two loads of dishes, and vacuumed, all of which are heavily frowned upon on Sundays (in some buildings it is strictly banned). I even took a bag of trash out, even though it was Sunday, and trash collection takes place on Tuesdays and Fridays in my neighborhood. It was still in a regulation trash bag, though. There are limits to even the most extreme forms of rebellion, you see.
Despite the weather, the Swiss were out celebrating Fasnacht, the local equivalent of Mardi Gras or Carneval. It involves lots of costumes, marching bands, drum lines, confetti, and parades. Different cities celebrate Fasnacht at different times, depending on whether they are Catholic or Protestant, and on other factors that I don't quite grasp. Basel's Fasnacht is going on right now, with all-night celebrations for several days. Here in Zurich, Fasnacht was celebrated last weekend, and it was quite something to be trudging through slushy piles of snow, hearing a band of drunk men shouting and yelling, and then looking up and seeing that the men in question are all decked out in matching red dresses, blue aprons, red wigs in pigtails, and other finery. That was perhaps the most startling thing about Fasnacht, seeing normally staid and proper Swiss men wearing ornate gowns with shiny metallic ruffles as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
A few friends and I went to Lucerne (or Luzern, if you prefer the German spelling) to check out their Fasnacht celebration last Tuesday (Mardi Gras). It was cold, and it was a work night, but there were still thousands of people out to celebrate. Performers and spectators alike wore elaborate costumes, many with huge, heavy masks. Costumes included Americans, football players, werewolves, cowboys and Indians, couches, bag-heads, chickens, and all sorts of other strange get-ups that had us double- and triple-taking the whole night. Kids had bags of confetti that they lobbed at strangers in the street. The many marching bands paraded around, playing "Guggenmusik," which sounds like what Sousa would have composed if he had been drunk and living on boat. My friends and I went straight from work, so instead of wearing big, crazy costumes, we went as Americans living in Switzerland, and finished the look off with ski jackets, hats, mittens, cameras, mulled wine, and sausages. OK, so we didn't wear costumes.
In any case, it was quite a spectacle, and it's definitely something to see the Swiss staying out late, wearing gaudy costumes, and making noise well into the night. Back in Zurich, I decided not to go see the Fasnacht festivities, due to the extreme weather. On Sunday, I was taking the trash out (don't tell), and since I was just stepping out for a minute, I was wearing flip-flops instead of real shoes. There was a steel drum band in red wigs playing outside my building, playing calypso music in the steadily falling snow, trudging through the slush, and everyone looked at me like I was the crazy one. Only in Switzerland.
Not wanting to venture forth in the new Ice Age, I decided to stay home all weekend. My apartment was a mess, so I did some cleaning on Sunday, but never fear, I'm not becoming Swiss, because I cleaned against all of their rules. I did two loads of laundry, two loads of dishes, and vacuumed, all of which are heavily frowned upon on Sundays (in some buildings it is strictly banned). I even took a bag of trash out, even though it was Sunday, and trash collection takes place on Tuesdays and Fridays in my neighborhood. It was still in a regulation trash bag, though. There are limits to even the most extreme forms of rebellion, you see.
Despite the weather, the Swiss were out celebrating Fasnacht, the local equivalent of Mardi Gras or Carneval. It involves lots of costumes, marching bands, drum lines, confetti, and parades. Different cities celebrate Fasnacht at different times, depending on whether they are Catholic or Protestant, and on other factors that I don't quite grasp. Basel's Fasnacht is going on right now, with all-night celebrations for several days. Here in Zurich, Fasnacht was celebrated last weekend, and it was quite something to be trudging through slushy piles of snow, hearing a band of drunk men shouting and yelling, and then looking up and seeing that the men in question are all decked out in matching red dresses, blue aprons, red wigs in pigtails, and other finery. That was perhaps the most startling thing about Fasnacht, seeing normally staid and proper Swiss men wearing ornate gowns with shiny metallic ruffles as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
A few friends and I went to Lucerne (or Luzern, if you prefer the German spelling) to check out their Fasnacht celebration last Tuesday (Mardi Gras). It was cold, and it was a work night, but there were still thousands of people out to celebrate. Performers and spectators alike wore elaborate costumes, many with huge, heavy masks. Costumes included Americans, football players, werewolves, cowboys and Indians, couches, bag-heads, chickens, and all sorts of other strange get-ups that had us double- and triple-taking the whole night. Kids had bags of confetti that they lobbed at strangers in the street. The many marching bands paraded around, playing "Guggenmusik," which sounds like what Sousa would have composed if he had been drunk and living on boat. My friends and I went straight from work, so instead of wearing big, crazy costumes, we went as Americans living in Switzerland, and finished the look off with ski jackets, hats, mittens, cameras, mulled wine, and sausages. OK, so we didn't wear costumes.
In any case, it was quite a spectacle, and it's definitely something to see the Swiss staying out late, wearing gaudy costumes, and making noise well into the night. Back in Zurich, I decided not to go see the Fasnacht festivities, due to the extreme weather. On Sunday, I was taking the trash out (don't tell), and since I was just stepping out for a minute, I was wearing flip-flops instead of real shoes. There was a steel drum band in red wigs playing outside my building, playing calypso music in the steadily falling snow, trudging through the slush, and everyone looked at me like I was the crazy one. Only in Switzerland.
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