Old values, modern world...

Today I picked up the newspaper and saw a curious picture in the bottom corner of the front page. The image showed a gaping, empty road tunnel...

Considering the amount of traffic on the roads these days, this was quite intriguing. The only time tunnels are empty of traffic is when a) there's a mother of all accidents being cleaned up, or b) unavoidable repair work is being carried out in the middle of the night.

Of course I forgot momentarily that this is Switzerland. On top of the narrow ledge on the side of the roadway were four little ducklings in a row and behind them the mother duck, busily encouraging the other five still on the road (and also in perfect duckling formation) to attempt the jump up to join their siblings. Turns out the St Johann tunnel in Basel was blockaded for all of 40 minutes by a dozen assorted firemen, police and border guards (Basel is on the German/Swiss border) while the duck family were carefully rounded up and transported to a place of safety.

Now I ask you, is this not fantastic? This is one of those things that I just love about Switzerland. Back where I come from, no one would even have noticed such a thing (except perhaps some hapless sod bemoaning the new crack in his windshield as momma duck's carcass ricocheted over his speeding vehicle). Here in the land of cuckoo clocks, however, where time is not only money but omnipotent God of everything (up to the borders of the French- and Italian-speaking cantons, that is!) are not only expensive public servants called into action for a family of ducks, but countless even more expensive professionals (think BANKER...YEARLY INCOME...BONUS, and you'll get the picture) and tradesmen (think SWISS QUALITY and the expense this entails to get even more in the picture) are held up or diverted on lengthy detours through the boondocks as they go about their sacred duty (MAKING MONEY). And not one public complaint!

It's fantastic that in this society people will go to such lengths for a single family of ducks. How much concern was for the safety of motorists I couldn't say, but I would guess this featured in the whole exercise too. Still, back home....

As an addendum to this little tale, I must mention that this is the only place I know of where the services of the police are billed out to the public. Am I just ignorant or is this normal elsewhere in the world? I wonder how much the duck escapade cost, and who's going to pay for it? I wouldn't mind if they sent me a bill for my share (one seven millionth, that is). It's worth it.

This reminds me of the time five years back when I had occasion to attend a course in another town quite far from where I live. Quite far in Switzerland means about 35 kilometres. The route to and from the course centre every day took me through about five kilometres of nature reserve. Coming from deep and dark Africa, I naturally spent the first few days eagerly looking for lion and elephant, but was sorely disappointed. This must have brought me to my senses, for I suddenly remembered that I was in Switzerland, where 'nature reserve' also means 'a place for butterflies and pretty flowers'. Anyway, it was Autumn and the roads were slick, the mist was thick and it was dark on the way there in the morning and on the way home in the evening. Not being much of an early riser, I was always pushed for time. So you can imagine my surprise, irritation and apprehension when I found the road suddenly barricaded one morning. This was and is a main route, by the way, not a gravel road, African style, intended only for traversing the 'nature reserve' when viewing the butterflies. There was a large triangular road traffic warning sign, of the kind used to indicate a lurking danger ahead for the motorist, such as a level crossing, or a four-way intersection, or perhaps falling rock or slippery road surfaces, etc. on the barricade. The thing is, this sign had a picture of a frog on it. A frog?

Hastily revising my opinion of Swiss nature reserves, I began peering frantically about in the thick mist on either side as I activated the central locking, all the while expecting a gigantic poisonous frog to appear on the bonnet (that's 'hood' for those of you who can't speak English) and send his tongue shooting through the windscreen to drag me kicking and screaming through the shattered glass and to my doom. I had wondered why the road was so quiet that particular morning, and as I retraced my route looking for a suitable detour I noticed a few more of the ominous signs that had escaped my limited early morning attention span. Everyone would recognise them if they had a leaping deer on them as that's exactly what they were like, just regular warning signs, but with a frog. My sleep-fogged brain must have failed to register the different image...

Well, when I arrived late and explained that the road had been closed without warning because of an escaped batch of mutant ninja toads, the lecturer just looked wisely into the middle distance somewhere behind me and muttered, "Ah yes, it's that time of year..." leaving me with the distinct impression that somehow I was the dumb foreigner again. However, the remark gave me a hint and I soon put two and two together and realised that these hard, business-orientated Swiss truly do have a soft and gentle side to them. Imagine closing off a whole road just for migrating frogs! Back home you could always tell when the rainy season had officially begun simply by the amount of squashed frogs on the roads. Not here, sonny! Here we're civilised and caring!

I like this place, even if I am just a dumb foreigner...