Samichlaus is coming to town

In these parts (German-speaking Switzerland) December 5th marks the celebration of the coming of Samichlaus, or St Nicholas - Nicholas of Myra, patron saint of children - and his alter-ego, Schmutzli.

Historically, Samichlaus made his way around the village, stopping at each house to inform children when they had been good, and when they had been bad. Children put out a shoe to receive from Samichlaus the next morning nuts, mandarins and chocolate... or coal from Schmutzli if they have been 'bad'.

Schmutzli is more formidably dressed in dark clothing, and carries a hessian sack, into which - in some stories - naughty children are packed up and carried off through the night into the Black Forest.

The tradition is maintained: the most well-known celebration of this event is held in Küssnacht, where the town's men get out in their white garb and in procession crack whips, blow cow horns, and beat cowbells well into the night.

So to mark the occasion, my endlessly energetic South African neighbour (DSAN) organised a visit from a couple of the local Samichlaus and Schmutzli.

The kids (there were about 8 of them) were a little suspicious of S & S, and listened dubiously to the Swiss-German and courageous attempts at English (which were much appreciated).

Samichlaus opened his Book of Sins and read for each child some good things they had been doing, and some 'challenges' for the year ahead (aided a little by some emailed homework from the mothers in the room!).

Samichlaus told DD and DS that they had been doing a fine job learning German. He even told us he knows DS's Amazing Kindy Teacher. (Oh ja, Frau AKT. I know Frau AKT! She is a good friend!) DD giggled a lot when Samichlaus reminded her to be patient, but poor DS covered his face when advised in general terms that it is good to be gentle.

I had been in two minds about my homework prior to this event - 'challenges' for the year ahead - but in the end we kept it general and in a spirit of a challenge and not a failing.

As they left, Schmutzli gave each child a hessian sock stuffed full of peanuts, mandarins and chocolate. Oh, and a Hot Wheels, of course, for the boys. (Ah, the modern age.)

In the past, DH and I have cracked jokes with DD about giving her some coal for Christmas, and she's often (rightly) pooh-poohed us or waved us away. She knows when we are joking.

But after hearing the Schmutzli stories this year, we might not be so flippant with our words.


PS. 'Samichlaus' told us one of those 'A funny thing happened on my way through the Black Forest' jokes...

Man in Forest: Greetings! The name is Bond. James Bond.
Samichlaus: Glad to meet you. The name is Li. Schmutz Li.

Maybe you had to be there!