European delicacies encountered during 3-ring European vacation

It must be August, because everyone is off on their last hurrah vacation trips before the kids come home from camp and the Yomim Tovim start. This past Shabbat, my husband Jerry regaled us with his travel plans that took place in 1975 during the summer after his sophomore year at YU.

He was set to spend the summer working at a turkey kibbutz in Israel. As the season was ending, he decided to travel to Dachau to visit the concentration camp where his uncle died the day he was liberated. A friend who was with Jerry asked if he wanted to travel to Zermatt, Switzerland, to ski. Jerry told him he would fly to Switzerland, spend Shabbat with a relative of a relative, then take a train to Germany and then meet him in Zermatt, and fly home with him afterwards.

Keep in mind that, in 1975, there were no cell phones and phone calls were prohibitively expensive. Calls had to be kept to a minimum and short in length.

He told his mom to call the in-laws of his cousin, who live in Switzerland and who had stayed at his house when he was a little boy. He said he would like to stay by them for Shabbat then travel to Germany. She thought it was a great idea and said she would call, or so that’s what it sounded like. Jerry landed in Switzerland and somehow found his way to the house, right before Shabbat. He was exhausted, dressed in faded jeans, his hair a bit longer than it should have been and he hadn’t shaven in a while. He rang the bell and stood there with all his belongings on his back.

The door opened and he immediately saw the look of terror on the elderly couple’s face, as they stared at the specimen standing before them. Since Jerry did not speak Swiss and they didn’t speak English, he tried to explain who he was in broken Yiddish. He thought for sure once he mentioned his mom’s name, they would realize who he was especially since his mom had called them — or had she? The man ran to the hall closet and shouted something to his wife that Jerry didn’t understand.

He then dragged some suitcases from the closet and said “Holiday, we are going on holiday.” His wife ran upstairs and started throwing clothes downstairs to put into the suitcases.