Leading up to «All Saints’ Day», where people go to the graves of their dearly departed and spruce them up, I came across a curious thing. Walking into a local German Supermarket, whose name rhymes with «Vivaldi», I noticed an enormous pile of plastic sacks containing «soil for graves». Not only was it clearly labelled, but appropriately illustrated with an image of a tombstone, and some plants, nestled into the soil, ostensibly extracted from said plastic bag. Now, the Swiss are perfection gurus, but this vision of soil, marketed exclusively for graves, triggered off in me some decidedly cynical thoughts towards the horticultural company promoting it. It seemed to abuse the suppressed feeling of grief, for people who could not express it in any other form, than to create the perfect memorial for their loved one.

Now, I am somewhat of an imaginative soul, but I have to admit, that I was mystified by this product. Roughly fifty percent of burials in Switzerland today are cremated, requiring only a miniature plot for the urn. On that basis, 20-liter bag of soil could last for the eternity of your loved one, even allowing for the earth to settle and sink, in the fullness of time. But, why would you require special soil to ornate your loved one’s final resting place? It’s not as if you’re planning on growing orchids or tomatoes, or cultivating a special sort of grape in the Swiss climate. Imagine this high-class soil generating such healthy roots, that would penetrate through the earth towards your dearly departed.

The fact is that funerals in Switzerland are generally short and sweet and quite dispassionate. The Swiss are not commonly known for outbursts of raucous emotion, so a short résumé of the deceased’s achievements are collated and uttered by the preacher, either at the graveside or in the church. This short statement and the mandatory obituary in the newspaper, does sometimes resemble rather more a job reference.  But hey-ho, we wouldn’t like to forget that Aunt Heidi never missed a day’s work during her 42 years as a trusted secretary. After this brief ceremony, the close mourners usually take off for a meal to catch up on family affairs and scandals and renew acquaintance with folk so rarely seen. After a lengthy meander down memory lane, each takes his leave, with the somewhat vague assurance to try and meet again before the next interment. There are no processions or special traditions that stop the traffic or attract attention, so the restaurant nearest to the cemetery usually enjoys a thriving business for wakes, and the grievers can walk off their despair before feeding.

This may all seem awfully dry for the outsider, but there is a booming German business in Switzerland, which sidelines graves entirely. It bears the bleak title of «Oasis of Eternity» and for a mere one and a half thousand Euros, you can bury the ash at the root of a tree, in a special plot in the Swiss Alps. I’ve heard it commands a splendid view for the occupants.

Or you can scatter the ashes at a local spot at no cost at all, Aunt Heidi won’t mind – in fact she’ll be rejoicing on high, that you didn’t waste her inheritance!

Photo: Pexels.com / Micael Widell