One of my favorite Swiss memories is of an afternoon my best friend and I spent with my aunt and uncle on a drive through villages and past a lovely lake, somewhere around Zug outside of Luzern. We had ice cream at a hotel nestled in the green hills. It was sunny and warm, a June day. My aunt and uncle wanted to make a special dinner. They asked what we would most like to have. 'Veal!', I cried. My uncle checked his watch and saw that we would not make it back to Cham in time to pick up the meat. He called the butcher from his cell phone and the butcher agreed to bring the veal by my aunt and uncle's flat, as he lived in the same building. That night we had veal and my aunt's wonderful salad. This day and the butcher's actions remind me always of the strong communities and neighborliness of the Swiss. Something like that would never happen in America!
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