MONSTERS OF THE ALPS
push people around, pull their ears, hit them
with sticks, drag them along behind. Some climb
snowbanks and chuck ice over everyone below.
Scarves and hats are stolen and tossed aside.
&# .0-!#11'-, 03,1 $-0 ̭4# +'*#1 *-,% 2&#
valley, but spectators stick to the villages, leaving
the Tschäggä to walk between them. I decide to
$-**-5$-0 2&# 5&-*# 0-32#Ơ ," 1--, ̭," +71#*$
alone, a small human surrounded by monsters,
trudging through the night. Somewhere in the
throng are Manuel and his boys, resplendent and
freakish. As the lights and clamour of the villages
fade, the Tschäggäs’ trot slows to a walk, their
bells stop clanging and their sticks drag along
the ground. I walk among them, hood up and
shoulders hunched, hoping that in the dark and
in their fatigue, they might mistake me for one
-$2&#+Ɵ
+ )# '2 2- 2&# ̭, * 4'** %#Ơ ," *# 4#
them to their merry-making and mischief.T
here are so many legends about the
carnival but we really don’t know much
about the origins of it,’ says Thomas
Antoniatti, who I meet the next day,
having dodged a lone, sleepless
Tschäggä staggering about Wiler. The
curator of the Lötschental Museum,
which contains several ancient masks, one from
the 18th century, his theory is that Tschäggättä is
a mix of Christian tradition and baroque theatre- the church allowing a bit of controlled
mayhem to keep the valley’s residents in check.
‘In the harshest moment of winter, you allow
people to go completely nuts for a few weeks,
and then you are into Lent,’ he says with a laugh.
In a back room of the museum, he shows me
a copy of a letter written in the 1850s by Priest
Gibsten of Kippel church. The earliest record
of the carnival, it complains about the anarchy
the Tschäggä cause. ‘He wanted to ban it,’ says
Thomas, ‘but he had no success. The tradition
is still living, and he is not.’
Just how alive that tradition remains is very
much in evidence outside the museum, as the
people of the Lötschental gather for the parade.
If the Thursday night procession was the stuff of
&-00-0 ̭*+1Ơ 230" 7ư1 ̭, *# '1 .30# 1* .12'!)Ɵ
Brass bands march about, their members in
+3*2'Ƥ!-*-30#"13'21Ɵ#!-0 2#"̮- 21.322#0along, containing occupants dressed as nuns,
polar bears and ninja-turtles, who toss sweets,
confetti and lumps of cheese. Among them are
men, women and children in the customary
Tschäggä costumes, the monstrous garb less
intimidating under the bright sun. One zips past
on a mobility scooter, waving a carpet beater.
** ̭," 2&#'0 5 72- 2&# 4'** %# 1.-021 & **Ơ ,"
1'2 2 *-,% 2 *#1 1!-$̭,% ##01Ơ5',# ," ! )#Ɵ
Prizes for the best monsters are announced,
each awarded points for their costumes, build
and character. Only when they are on stage
!-**#!2',% 2&#'0 .0'8#1 "- 2̭, **7*'$2 2&#'0
masks and reveal themselves, to gasps and
cheers from the onlookers. Boys from Manuel’s
cave come second and third; a Tschäggä wearing
#',0'!& '#"#0ư1 + 1) '1 ̭012Ɵ&# "0',)',%
and celebrating continue long after the sun
has set, costumes have been discarded, and fat
1,-5̮ )#1 & 4# -,!# % ', 12 02#" 2- $ ** $0-+
a sky turned the colour of an old bruise.
As I lie in bed that night, I listen out for bells,
5-,"#0',% '$2!&©%%© 0# !-+',% $-0 ̭, *
time. It’s deathly quiet for a while, and then
from somewhere down the valley sounds out
that unmistakable ‘dong, dong, dong’. I pull the
sheets a little closer, and shut my eyes tight.‘You allow people
to go completely
nutsforafew
weeks, and then
you are into Lent.’
Tschäggä make regular
appearances in the pubs and
restaurants of the valley, and
are given free beer in eachAMANDA CANNING’s heart has yet to
slowtoanormalrate.Shetravelled
with support from Switzerland Tourism.