By Lindsay Vandermyde
I have a confession. For a large part of my younger life, I lived in Santa Clara, Utah. A small city on the outskirts of town that is rich in Swiss Heritage and home of people with names ending in Gubler, Hafen, Ence, Frei, etc. My family was transplanted from Salt Lake City. People there would ask us questions like, "So, who are you related to?" and when we would say "no one around these here parts" (ok, we may have answered a little differently...), they would look at us in shock as to how we ended up in the "valley" of Santa Clara without being related to a soul. Funny.
Back to my confession. Santa Clara holds their annual Swiss Days celebration in September providing all kinds of activities and programs where all can experience the traditions of their ancestors. As for me, I went there to look at the shopping & food booths and listen to Rag-Time Rhonda sing "Play Me Some Mountain Music"
& play the fiddle, and hang out with friends (by the way, does anyone know Rag-Time Rhonda's real name?). I had no clue about the Swiss and their traditions. Was I just a typical teenager? Probably, but with a good chunk of my friends being Swiss, you'd think I would know.
Wednesday, March 27, 2013
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