Schwingen

One of the elements of the Swiss experience that I regrettably left off my Top 10 list was tradition.  Switzerland is full of fun and interesting traditions, some observed across the country and some locally.  We try to experience as many of these as possible, for example the cow fighting I posted about in April.  In 2013 we attended Das Eidgenössische Schwing und Älplerfest (sorry, no translation possible).   A Swiss colleague encouraged me to go, telling me that for pure, concentrated Swissness this is ground zero.    It’s a sort of Swiss Olympic Games that’s held every three years, each time in a different location.   The sites are just vast open fields so for each Games an enormous temporary arena capable of seating roughly 50,000 fans is constructed.  Since considerably more than 50,000 people show up, several enormous screens are also set up in the grounds surrounding the arena.   The competition is comprised of three different events, the main being a form of wrestling called Schwingen, which takes place in a 12 meter diameter ring covered with saw dust.   The other two are  Steinstossen  and Hornussen.  Steinstossen involves the throwing of a small boulder weighing 83.5 kg, which is a bit more than I weigh.  The winner generally manages a hernia popping distance of about four meters.  Hornussen is difficult to describe so I won’t even try.  Imagine Quiddich without the brooms or flying.  Checkout this website if you’re interested (http://www.myswitzerland.com/en-ch/hornussen-where-the-nouss-flies-from-the-ramp-and-into-the-playing-field.html).   The main event, however, is clearly Schwingen.  As with cow fighting, the winner receives no cash.  Just more glory than you can shake an alpenhorn at and a giant pile of dry goods donated by sponsors who are nevertheless not permitted to advertise.  Washing machines.  Lawnmowers.  Furniture.  Tools.  Livestock.  Sort of like the winners of 70’s game shows in the US (plus farm animals).  The event will be held this summer so make your plans to attend.  Pure, distilled Swissness taking place in Estavayer (Canton Fribourg) from August 26^th to 28^th.  Don’t miss it.

Tort law

I’m no lawyer (although my oldest daughter is) so anything I have to say about tort law is strictly from a  layman’s perspective.  That being said, I’ll state unequivocally that the Swiss approach to tort law is clearly superior to the US version.    Switzerland has laws designed to keep harmful products off the market but if you want to do something stupid and hurt yourself…  Well, that’s your fault.  Don’t blame someone else.    With regards to medical malpractice suits, you may be surprised to learn that it’s forbidden here for lawyers to participate in any punitive damages or financial compensation their clients are awarded.   They are paid strictly on a fee for service basis.  Plus, the burden of proof for liability is much higher.   The result, as you can imagine, is far fewer lawsuits, lower malpractice premiums and a paltry level of CYA on the part of doctors and hospitals.  This was driven home for us once several years ago when Paige was hospitalized for a severe asthma attack.  The situation was stabilized quickly after admission but the doctors wanted to keep her overnight until her blood oxygen remained above a certain level while sleeping.  As it was not an issue while awake we asked if she could be released temporarily to attend a Christmas performance in which she was supposed to participate.  They said, sure, why not, and released her to our care, still wearing her hospital bracelet, with our promise to return her to the hospital that evening.  Think that would ever happen in the US?    

Subtle wealth

Switzerland is clearly a wealthy country.   According to every study or report I’ve seen it’s the richest in the world.   The 2015 Credit Suisse Global Wealth Report compares 174 countries and lists Switzerland in the #1 position with the average adult having a net worth of $567,122.   New Zealand was #2 ($400,811) followed by Australia ($364,896).  The US and UK rounded out the top five with $352,996 and $320,368 respectively.   When I read this I thought, wow, that’s a lot of money.  It doesn’t seem correct.  Then I looked at the second column in the table, the one showing the median adult wealth.  This shows  how broadly this wealth is distributed in each country and Switzerland gets a surprisingly low grade in this category.  When you look at the ratio of average wealth to median wealth, Switzerland’s is 5.3, which isn’t as bad as the US (7.1) but compared to New Zealand and Australia (both 2.2) it’s considerably less fair than I expected.  Another, more sophisticated metric that economists use to measure fairness of wealth distribution is the Gini coefficient.   At the risk of oversimplifying the statistics involved, the Gini is a quick way to assess how financially satisfied people will be in the context of their culture and country.  In yet more basic terms, it’s an indication of how they see themselves compared to their neighbors.   In Gini terms, zero means that everyone has the same wealth and 100 means one guy has it all.   The Gini in Switzerland is 80.3 while in the US it’s 85.0.  To give a bit of perspective, the average for European and North American countries is 74.8.  Those Kiwi’s and Aussies?  65.5.  Damn, talk about finding an economic sweet spot.  Wealth and fairness, together.   If you’re wondering where Putin’s kleptocracy ranks, it’s a 91.2, which, as a bad as that sounds, it’s even worse when you consider that the average net wealth in Russia is south of $12,000.  The economic unsweet spot, poor and unfair.  Anyway, back to the subject of this post, subtle wealth.  The reason that I was surprised that Switzerland’s wealth is relatively unevenly distributed is that you  don’t see the level of ostentatiousness here that you do in the US.  Plainly, there are a lot of rich people here.   Try to find them though and you’re bound to be disappointed as the Swiss are masters of subtle wealth.  They’ll wear a watch worth more than your retirement savings but hide it under a shirt sleeve.  They are a private species and matters of money may be viewed as the most private of all.  When I first moved here I noticed that even the model numbers on the BMW’s and Mercedes, indicating the engine displacement (and value),  are left off  the cars sold in Switzerland.   The attitude seems to be, why rub it in?  While you’re not likely to see a rich Swiss dressing down, you won’t see them behaving flamboyantly either.  And you will never hear them publicly making a boorish statement like, “I’m rich, really rich”.  Ever.

By the way, have you ever met an unpleasant, unhappy Kiwi or Aussie?  Me neither.   

Culturally Swiss

Lisa and I moved here too late in life to ever really be culturally Swiss.  Sure, we share many of the characteristics that are considered Swiss (follow rules, habitually on time, fiscally conservative) but these are personality traits that we arrived with and which partly explain why we’re so comfortably happy here.  Paige, on the other hand, has developed into a veritable Heidi.  For her, we’ll never know whether it was nature or nurture but she’s as Swiss as they come.  Should we apply for Swiss citizenship, there’s a requirement to demonstrate assimilation and she’s our ringer.    Speaks perfect dialect?  Check.  Member of several local clubs?  Check.  Drinks Rivella voluntarily?  Check.  Participates in Fasnacht?  Double check ( five year member of a clique).   Really the only non-Swiss behavior she exhibits is that she answers the phone by saying “Hello”.  You’ll hear no “Crump” barked out when calling our home.   

Banking

Earlier this year, Paige completed the  two day Red Cross babysitting course, hung up her shingle and opened her babysitting practice.  In the few months since, her outrageous fees have allowed her to accumulate Breaking Bad quantities of cash in her nightstand so I decided  recently that the time had come for her to open her first bank account.  Since this is not a “drop in” activity here, I made an appointment for us to meet with a client advisor at UBS.   Why UBS?  As American citizens,  we have to go with one of the big banks still willing to deal with the paperwork and risks that accompany us as a result of the new US banking laws.   While just a thirteen year old babysitter, Paige’s assets would be subject to the same IRS scrutiny faced by the international arms merchants, drug dealers and financiers who launder their billions through the Swiss banking system.  So, last week we  presented ourselves  at the appointed time in the giant marble UBS lobby, a space large enough to host a volleyball tournament, only to learn that the advisor was not yet available.  In hushed tones, we were directed upstairs where we were met by a nice lady who ushered us into a bright, sunny meeting room before offering drinks and cookies to ease the inconvenience.   It worked for Paige.  She’s still young enough to be bought off by a Coke.    Me, I was just annoyed.    After roughly twenty minutes,  our client advisor showed up,  accompanied by a trainee.   He asked if it was okay to involve a trainee and I replied truthfully that it was.  In fact, I thought it was a good opportunity for Paige to witness how the young man interacted with us as he dealt with his nervousness.  She could very well be in a similar situation herself someday, a day that would arrive much too soon for my emotional well-being.     After introductions, the trainee worked his way through the presentation, stumbling at some points and receiving guidance from his mentor.   I seeded Paige with a few questions to ask and, oblivious to the disrespect inherent in their tardiness, she felt grown up and important.  At the conclusion of the presentation, there were several forms to sign so we did this and handed them over along with our passports and permits.  They told us it would take half an hour to file the documents so we left to walk around a bit outside and enjoy the nice spring day.   After thirty minutes we returned and were shown back to the nice meeting room where we waited for what turned out to be forty-five minutes.   What had happened to the famous Swiss punctuality I wondered, once again annoyed.  Eventually, the advisor and his sidekick showed up, apologizing somewhat perfunctorily, before returning our passports and completed account forms.   In the end, while I was left unimpressed by their lack of respect for our time, we got it done and Paige was the proud owner of her very own Swiss bank account.   Interestingly, during the closing pleasantries, the advisor asked whether I had my mortgage with UBS.  I noted that I didn’t because their rates were high.  He was disappointed to hear this, noting that while their rates are a bit high they strive to make up for this through superior service, a comment that betrayed a surprising tone deafness in light of the experience we’d just had.  I decided not to add that the other reason that I’d not gone with UBS was that the mortgage specialist to whom I’d forwarded our information had never called me back.   

Landsgemeinde

This past Sunday Paige and I attended the Landsgemeinde in Appenzell Innerrhoden.   What’s that, you ask?  And further, why?  Well, it’s the annual open air public meeting used in this Canton to elect officials, vote on referenda and generally just decide stuff.  It’s taken place at noon on the last Sunday of April every year since 1378 and is held in the village square in the center of town.   The voting is done by a show of hands but prior to 1991 this was done by raising a sword, a practice that was changed that year when women were finally granted the right to vote.  Up to that point, possession of a sword itself had been the proof that one was stimmberechtigt (has the right to vote) and since they were typically handed down from father to son, no women owned one.   These days a voter identify card is the official proof but, and I admit to finding this pretty cool, for men the sword still suffices.   Perhaps not so enlightened but it’s nice when traditions don’t die completely.   In any case, I've been curious to attend this event ever since hearing about it and having realized last year that this was the last of Switzerland’s twenty-six cantons which I’d yet to visit, this was plainly the excuse I needed.  So, at 8:17 Sunday morning we boarded the train and set out on our little adventure.  It’s a three hour trip from Basel but like always, riding the Swiss trains was a treat in itself.  So pleasant with a beautiful view of the lakes, mountains and country side rolling by.  Once there, we followed the crowd, including the nattily dressed men with their swords, towards the Landsgemeideplatz to seek a good vantage point.  The central area had been cordoned off with gendarmes in shiny brass helmets stationed at the entrances to check ID’s (or swords) before allowing the Stimmberechtigten entry to the official voting area.  Unfortunately, the weather had turned wintery with grey skies dropping an unpleasant mix of snow and rain but no matter, the turnout was good and the area grew full.  At 12:15, uncharacteristically late, the parade of officials, flags and people wearing funny hats began their special march into the voting corral.  Finally, what we’d come for.  I’d reviewed the agenda the week before, just to see if anything especially interesting was on the docket.  A few years ago the Appenzellers voted on whether nude hiking should be banned and the international media caught wind of it and descended upon the town to cover the debate.  I don’t know how close it was but they came down on the side of modesty, resolving that the price of a naked stroll henceforth would be CHF 200.  Sadly, nothing so racy was on the program this year but I did see that “their Excellencies”, the Chinese, British and Canadian ambassadors would be present.  Also, in addition to all of the local politicians, Guy Parmelin, the Federal Council member responsible for Defense, Civil Protection and Sport would be in attendance.  Clearly, we were to be in good company.   This canton was the last to recognize women’s suffrage and the vintage of that recognition still brings a bit of ignominy to the community each year.  Indeed, it was mentioned during the moving remarks made by Mr. Roland Inauen to open the meeting this year when he commented that 25 years ago, with half the people excluded, a true democracy did not really exist.  I was glad to hear him note this as it shows that while there may be some lingering discomfort, it’s acknowledged and in the past.  The 16,000 citizens of Appenzell are moving forward.   This lies in stark contrast to my own country where just last week, in the NY primary, over half a million people voted for Donald Trump, showing that there are plenty in the US who should feel a more contemporary and inexcusable sense of shame.  In the end, and in spite of the weather, Paige and I judged the trip to have been more than worthwhile and if I felt any disappointment it was only when the men voted by waving their hands, not their splendid swords.   This week, when recounting our escapade to co-workers, I found that most were genuinely surprised that I’ve now visited all of the cantons.   I don’t find it so impressive myself.  It’s not like visiting all fifty US states, an accomplishment requiring an intentional effort and one big enough that I’m not even close.  Some years ago I made it to thirty-three but have been stuck there since.  It’s all that flatness out west that’s sunk me.  I just haven’t found a sufficient excuse.  Now if Oklahoma, Nebraska and South Dakota would only have a Landsgemeinde.  Then I’d go.  

Cow fighting

Coming up in a few weeks is an event I heartily recommend.  We attended last year for the first time and it was a real treat.  Switzerland at its finest.  The event to which I refer is the annual cow fighting championship.   Before you get your knickers in a twist thinking that this is a form of bull fighting or, worse, a  bovine version of cock fighting, let me explain.   First off, the cows don’t get hurt.  It shouldn’t really be called fighting as it’s more like intimidation, a word not often used in conjunction with “cow”.  The championship weekend is the culmination of regional contests in canton Valais and takes place each year in May.   The winner is crowned the Reine de la Reine (Queen of the Queens) and receives a lovely cow bell and recognition that she’s one tough cow.  No monetary reward.  In a nod to a bygone era, it’s amateur athletics at its best with only pride at stake.  In each round, ten or twelve cows are released into a big ring where they proceed, on their own, to pair up and lock horns until one concedes and turns away.  Then each one looks around, pairs up with another and does it again.  Sometimes they don’t even lock up.  One simply stares the other into backing down.  Once a cow yields twice she’s eliminated.   Last year’s winner was Frégate, the defending champion and a true alpha cow.  Will she three-peat?   I can’t wait to see.  Mark your calendars.  May 1^st.  Aproz, Valais.  Be there.