| No | English text |
| 0 | Not “important” Poor people’s life stories The lives of the poor usually leave few traces. They own little. What they do is not considered to be “important” and they rarely have the leisure time to write about their lives. Museums often teach us very little about them and their lives. The life stories we show in this room are based on the accounts of ordinary people. That such stories are told is unusual – and yet these narratives are typical of so many people. And although Switzerland is now a wealthy country, poverty and hardship still exist. |
| 1 | Without a homeland Living on the margins of society Every Swiss person has an official place of origin. What is today an unimportant vestige of a bygone era was once linked to basic rights: the rights of establishment, marriage or support in situations of hardship. These rights could be lost in the event of prolonged absence, marriage to a person of another faith or a criminal conviction. The Sinti and Yenish peoples were seen as “gypsies” and as such considered to be have no place of origin. Children of parents with no place of origin also lacked a place of origin. For a long time such people were tolerated nowhere, earning their living as peddlers or forced into petty crime. Many of them ended up in prison or forced labour institutes, where they were supposedly “put back on the right track”. The Federal Law on the Heimatlosat of 1850 finally gave 30,000 people an official home – often meeting strong resistance from the local communities. But people lacking valid papers still exist today. They live in constant fear of deportation and have virtually no legal protection. |
| 2 | Less important Albert Minder, poet and painter, 1879-1965 The Minder family were Yenish and travelled as “vagabonds” for generations. They had no rights as they had no official place of origin and they travelled across the country making a living repairing baskets and crockery. In 1861, the family was granted the right of residence in Limpach – against the city’s will. We know the family history thanks to Albert Minder. Albert was a good student and wanted to become a teacher. But he was forced to quit his training in Hofwil because he didn’t have enough money for textbooks. He had no money for apprenticeship fees either, so he completed basic training as a painter in Moutier and started working as a painter-decorator at the Aebi machine factory in Burgdorf. As a young man, Albert Minder was finally able to attend the School of Applied Arts in Basel. He then returned to Aebi where he stayed for 40 years. In his free time he became politically active, wrote, travelled and took photographs. |
| 3 | Genealogical research Albert Minder had to unravel his family’s secrets detective-style – his father was ashamed of his origins in a family of itinerant basket makers. Settled people tolerated travellers only for a limited period of time and avoided all social contact. His father rarely spoke about his past. Albert’s grandparents were much more inclined to share the family history, and they sometimes came to stay with his parents. However, It was only after the death of his parents that Albert was finally able to rummage through old family documents and discover the truth about his family. It was enough for in two books: The Son of the Homeless and The Chronicle of the Basketmakers. |
| 4 | Albert Minder : “The Son of the Homeless. A memoir in thoughts and poems”, Burgdorf, self-published 1925. |
| 5 | Once a basket maker, always a basket maker Albert treasured the few things he inherited from his grandparents very dearly. For example a tile drill, that Albert described as “powered by an antediluvian rope system”. His grandparents used the tool to drill holes in broken ceramic dishes, which they then joined together with wire. The drill reminded Albert that his ancestors made a living repairing dishes and selling baskets they made themselves. They travelled from village to village in their wagons. How many times did they spend the night on sleeping on bags under the wagon? The best camping spots places were near the commune borders: if a gendarme tried to chase the peddlers out of a commune, they could simply cross the border to the other side. |
| 6 | Corded tile drill, age unknown. |
| 7 | Calendar “Der hinkende Bote” of 1889. As a child, Albert Minder went door to door selling this popular calendar to earn a extra money his family. |
| 8 | “The misery of cigar factory workers.” Poem by Albert Minder in the workers’ newspaper “Grütlianer”, 1905. Albert Minder’s parents had both worked in a cigar factory. |
| 9 | Family photograph with the mother Maria, the father Jakob and brothers Albert and Ernst Minder. |
| 10 | Reading of text excerpts by Albert Minder. Radio DRS 1, May 9 1976, 7 min. 10 sec. |
| 11 | Albert Minder in the Aebi mechanical workshop in Burgdorf, circa 1940. |
| 12 | For a better world Albert Minder painted and wrote poetry, but he didn’t want to focus only on the beautiful: he wanted to make the world a better place. In 1899, he joined the Swiss Grutli Society, which shortly afterwards merged with the Socialist Party. He left a lasting impression- he founded a workers’ library, two workers’ choirs and a workers’ education circle. The Workers’ Gymnastics Society and the Red Falcons, a form of socialist scout group, also count Albert Minder amongst their founders. Minder also sought to take up official political office and in 1913 he unsuccessfully stood as a candidate for the city council of Burgdorf. In the years 1926/27 he briefly served in the local parliament. From 1931 and for six years, Albert Minder, never able to become a teacher, served as the Burgdorf representative on the board of secondary education. |
| 13 | Electoral announcement of the Grutli Burgdorf Society and announcement of the results of the 1913 local council election. Albert Minder lost in the second round of voting. |
| 14 | Albert Minder: “Leaving the factory”, “A travelling musician at the factory closing time” or “The evening before May 1st”. Minder painted himself into this 1907 painting (on the right, with a pipe – even though he didn’t smoke). |
| 15 | Portrait of Albert Minder at the age of 35. Bechstein photographic studio, Burgdorf, 1914. |
| 17 | The house at Alter Markt 6 in Burgdorf. Albert Minder lived there with his brother and his brother’s family. |
| 18 | In the poet’s cottage Albert Minder was old by the time he could finally live in his own house. He lived with his brother at Alter Markt 6 in Burgdorf during his working years. Upon retiring in 1948, he rented some land in Schönebüeli on the outskirts of Burgdorf for a hundred francs a year. He had a wooden cabin built on it – his “poet’s cottage”. He covered the outside and inside of the cottage with his own poems. He built a colourful wall with river stones from the Emme around it, often writing on the stones or painting dragon heads on them. The poet’s cottage was Albert’s home in old age. There he could chat with his friends about anything and everything. |
| 19 | Albert Minder in front of his “poet’s cottage” at Schönebüeli in Burgdorf, 1951. |
| 20 | Postcards from Albert Minder’s travels. |
| 21 | Albert Minder with Martin Schwander, later a journalist, author and local Worker’s Party politician, ca. 1963. |
| 22 | A book lover Albert Minder kept 1344 books in his little house; not much space remained for anything else. Books were his friends. He lovingly decorated a good number of them and recorded them all in his “Catalogue of Albert Minder’s Library”. He liked having a good overview of the books he owned. He declared in his will that he wished his collection to be sold to the Burgdorf library. The library was not interested however, and his collection slowly disappeared: some books were taken away by friends, his nephew Werner Minder kept his personal diary and the rest was given to a bookseller. |
| 23 | Books from Albert Minder’s private library. Albert Minder published many articles in the satirical workers’ newspaper “Der Neue Postillon” under a pseudonym. |
| 24 | The man Albärt Minder of Burgdorf Minder’s world got smaller as he grew older, although plenty of friends still came to visit. The writer Sergius Golowin, the journalist Martin Schwander, the musician Baschi Bangerter, the game inventor Urs Hostettler – all were non-conformists passionate about the rights of itinerant peoples. Many of Burgdorf’s younger generation also came to visit the old poet. However, it all became too much for Albert Minder and he committed suicide at the age of 86. A few years after his death, in Bern, his friends organised an evening of music, theatre and pictures in his memory. Urs Hostettler and the folkrock group Saitesprung set several of his poems to music. |
| 25 | Poster of the event held in Minder’s memory on Easter Monday 1973 in Bern. |
| 26 | Having nowhere to call home… Undocumented migrants in Switzerland Since they are undocumented, it’s impossible to know how many undocumented migrants live in the country. Estimates range from 90,000 to 250,000 people. Undocumented migrants live in Switzerland but do not have permit to do so. Many of them legally travelled to Switzerland and then remained after their residency permit expired. Many of them earn their living by working in low-paying and unstable jobs; as cleaners, agricultural workers, babysitters… Undocumented migrants live in perpetual fear of being discovered. It’s complicated for them to go to the doctor or exercise their rights in a court of law. Attending school is a human right, and schools cannot report undocumented children. However, undocumented students live in constant fear and are unable to pursue any vocational training. |
| 27 | A childhood spent in hiding Agron S. was born in 1997 in Kosovo. He was still young when his father fled to Switzerland. His mother later followed with the children, but the family was not granted a residence permit. Fearing discovery and deportation, his parents hid their children away at home for a long time. At the age of 12, Agron was finally able to go to school. He remained in Switzerland to finish school when his parents moved to Germany. The undocumented migrant advisory service in Bern supported the young man. Towards the end of 2017 he was granted temporary asylum as a refugee and was legally allowed to work. He found a temporary job working for a demolition company. He is happy that he doesn’t need to claim social welfare and is now hoping that his boss will hire him on a permanent basis. |
| 28 | “This penny means a lot to me. A long time ago, a woman gave it to me and said, ‘Someday you’ll have more than this. At the time I had nothing, nothing at all. I’ve been carrying this coin around with me ever since. And she was right, I do indeed have more today.” |
| 29 | “I’m proud of myself. I’ve been through a lot, I kept on living and being strong in spite of the constant fear. As a teenager I had to take responsibility for myself, which is not easy to do.” |
| 30 | Extra workers Farmhands, maids, and day labourers Even if the whole family helped, most farms still had to rely on hired labour. The maidservants and farmhands were often farmers’ children themselves – children who, not being the first born, had not inherited any land. They earned too little to marry but were still better off than the day labourers, who were only employed on a day-to-day basis. In the 19th century, agriculture in the Emmental changed from crops to livestock. The need for extra workers decreased, a situation made worse by the general trend towards mechanisation in the 20th century. Factories offered the working-class better pay and better working conditions. Farms began to look for workers abroad – first in Italy, then in Spain, Portugal or Yugoslavia. Today, most farm labourers with temporary work permits come from Eastern Europe. |
| 31 | Passion Werner Haueter, farmhand and collector, 1920-2001 Born into a modest farming family, Werner Haueter became a farmhand and worked on a farm in Hasle near Burgdorf for thirty years. He used his meagre salary to nurture his passion, collecting lamps, coffee grinders, military objects such as swords, muskets, mess tins and canteens. Upon retiring, he used his collection to decorate his small apartment. In 1995 Haueter moved into a retirement home and donated his collection to the Rittersaalverein – a total of 656 objects and two photo albums. |
| 32 | Werner Haueter at the age of 20, 1940. |
| 33 | You need good muscles to drink coffee Does a humble coffee grinder belong in a museum? Older generations might still have memories of their grandmothers grinding coffee. Although you can still find them in second-hand shops or on the Internet, hardly anyone uses them any more. Werner Haueter didn’t use this coffee grinder either, although he probably enjoyed fresh coffee – a luxury product for a long time, most people could only afford to drink coffee on a daily basis from the 1950s onwards. Little by little, electric grinders and then automatic coffee makers replaced mechanical grinders. Who knows, maybe soon hand grinders will be back in modern kitchens, since they use no electricity. In any case, Burgdorf Castle is certainly beautifully decorated thanks to Haueter’s collection! |
| 34 | From Haueter’s collection: beechwood coffee grinder, age unknown. |
| 35 | It all began with a lamp… Werner Haueter was fascinated by everyday objects – when the stable boy went to work at dawn, he lit his way with a kerosene lamp. This lantern was the first item he collected. In 1936 he found it in a rubbish heap in Thurgau and it ignited his passion for collecting. But just how does a farmhand become a collector? By the end of his career, Haueter was earning 160 francs in summer and 140 in winter. He bled himself dry to pay for his collection. For 60 years he haggled with shopkeepers and in second-hand shops. Before Werner Haueter moved to a retirement home at the age of 75, he would hobble up the castle hill on his crutches. He donated his collection to the museum and wanted it to be exhibited “as far as possible”. But it would require an entire room to show all 656 objects. |
| 36 | From Haueter’s collection: kerosene lamp, age unknown. |
| 37 | From Haueter’s collection: Plate showing a view of Burgdorf Castle, 1939. Manufacturer: DESA Steffisburg. |
| 38 | From Haueter’s collection: Radio UKW Star, circa 1960. Manufacturer: Kapsch & Sons. |
| 39 | From Haueter’s collection: Echophone harmonica, 1930’s, with a brochure by the manufacturer Hohner. |
| 40 | From Haueter’s collection: swing top bottle, age unknown. |
| 41 | From Haueter’s collection: binoscope (plastic glasses with green lenses), age unknown. |
| 42 | From Haueter’s collection: Brownie No. 2 camera, circa 1930. Manufacturer: Kodak. |
| 43 | From Haueter’s collection: boar-hunting spear, age unknown. |
| 44 | Werner Haueter in the apartment he retired to in Hasle, surrounded by his collection, year unknown. It was only when he retired that Haueter could finally afford his own apartment; before that he lived on the farm. |
| 45 | Werner Haueter playing the harmonica and other recordings, tape recording, circa 1960. 12 min. 20 sec. |
| 46 | Werner Haueter taking pictures. Photo from Haueter’s photo album, year unknown. |
| 47 | Hard work, low wages Farm work in the 21st century Swiss farms still rely on cheap labour. Extra workers are hired during harvest time and then sent home between the seasons. Today, farm workers mostly come from Eastern and Southern EU countries. They work hard for long hours and little money: ten-hour workdays, five-and-a-half day working weeks and a gross salary of 4250 francs, minus room and board. No Swiss national would accept working under these conditions – but for people coming from low income countries, working on Swiss farms remains attractive. A quarter of all foreign farm workers are women. |
| 48 | The farm worker Deividas Buktus has been working on the Messer family pig farm in Zauggenried in Switzerland for four years. He does whatever is necessary: cutting wood, cleaning the pigsties, feeding the pigs, harvesting potatoes… When he first arrived in Switzerland from Lithuania, he didn’t speak a word of German. He admits that communication is still a challenge today, but he says everyone works well together and he enjoys working there. His training as an electrician also helps him to work on the high-tech animal farm. Deividas works hard but his salary here means he can support his family in Lithuania, and he goes back home four times a year. In the beginning Deividas was a seasonal worker and slept in the same room as the other seasonal workers. Today he has an apartment on the Messer family’s farm and cooks for himself in the evenings. His family has also visited him in Switzerland. |
| 49 | “This is my son Kornelijus. He is seven years old. If I’m thinking about going back to Lithuania for good, it’s because of him: I want to see him grow up.” |
| 50 | Waiting for marriage Working as a housemaid for a rich family Father is the breadwinner, and mother stays at home with the children. This bourgeois ideal emerged in the 19th century. At the time, it was considered inappropriate for women who could afford to employ servants to work. Not all servants enjoyed the same social status. Cooks had a certain prestige, whilst maids ranked at the very bottom of the pecking order. They were often young women from rural families, earning some money before marriage. Some stayed single their whole lives – as they never had any time to meet a man. A housemaid’s work involved strenuous physical labour: they cleaned, carried water, lit stoves and went to the market, which at least gave them a chance to get out of the house and see the world from time to time. |
| 51 | Always at your service They worked non-stop from five in the morning until eleven at night, always at the mercy of their masters. They had to put up with so much: the temper of their mistress, the whining of the children and the whims of their master. Finishing exhausted late at night, they crawled into their beds in the cold attic. They ate in the kitchen once the family had had their meal, and even their meagre fare of thin soup was deducted from their wages. Woe betide anyone who made a mistake! Everything was meticulously noted down in their employment record book. Without a perfect record book, it was impossible to find a new job. Dismissal could happen overnight – employers were not required to justify themselves, there was no legal protection and trade unions were non-existent. Families were often afraid that their servants would find a better job and leave them. This is why the Economic and Public Utility Association of Burgdorf awarded bonuses to exceptionally loyal servants. |
| 52 | Caricature from the magazine “Der Neue Postillon”, 1908. |
| 53 | An old maid Sophie Fankhauser, housemaid, born 1848 Like most housemaids, Sophie Fankhauser wasn’t able to go to school for long. Nevertheless, she still managed to write her memoirs at the age of fifty. Sophie spent a year at a school for housemaids, where she learnt how to do laundry, clean, cook, sew, speak French and sing. At the age of seventeen, she started work for clergyman’s family in Burgdorf, who also employed a cook and a second maid. At first, she was paid 50 francs a year plus board and lodging. To put this in perspective, the clergyman earned 1,600 francs a year – and was still convinced that Sophie didn’t work hard enough to justify her salary. In spite of their many disagreements, Sophie Fankhauser remained loyal to the family until they dismissed her after 20 years. Sophie Fankhauser never found a husband and remained an “old maid”. |
| 54 | Sophie Fankhauser: Memories of the Childhood and Years of Service of an Old Maid. Grosshöchstetten, 1897. |
| 55 | Excerpts from Memories of an Old Maid by Sophie Fankhauser, read by Vivianne Müsli. 8 min. 32 sec. |
| 56 | Fat and stupid Rosmarie Buri, best-selling author, 1930-1994 Rosmaire Buri thought she was stupid for a long time – she was told it often enough. On her 50th birthday, her horoscope told her that she was intelligent and she decided to believe it. She then dared to write her memoirs. Growing up in relative poverty, at the age of 19 Rosemarie Buri became a housemaid for a factory owner’s family in Burgdorf. She worked from early in the morning until late at night and she could only leave the house with the family’s permission, even when she had a Sunday afternoon off. Insults were a part of her daily life. In the end she was compensated for her difficult life by her writing, and her book “Fat and Stupid” became a best-seller. |
| 57 | Self-empowerment Who cares about the story of a fat woman ashamed of her own ignorance? Nobody, according to the many publishing houses that rejected Rosmarie Buri’s memoirs. After eight years, Buri found the publisher Walter Keller. He published the book in 1990 and it was a sensation. ” Stupid and Fat ” sold no less than 300,000 copies! The public were fascinated by Rosmarie Buri and her book soon made her rich. In 1993, she published her second book “Iced Cow Pats”. Her books set a trend in the 1990s and inspired many people to put their stories down on paper – although none of them enjoyed the same success. Rosmarie Buri’s writings encouraged many people to empower themselves. |
| 58 | Excerpts from Stupid and Fat by Rosmarie Buri, read by Rosmarie Buri 7 min. 5 sec. |
| 59 | Always on call Domestic service today In the old days, servants had to be available around the clock. Today, 24-hour working days are against the law – but the law can’t help people who don’t know about it. Especially if they can barely speak the language and are socially isolated. Thousands of female carers from the poorer EU countries are in such a situation. Many migrant women come to Switzerland to care for the elderly, allowing them stay at home instead of going to a nursing home. These women are hired out by sometimes dubious agencies and by Swiss standards their salaries are low. Compared to what they would be earning at home, however, their salaries are high. The price they pay is a life in two very different worlds: in Switzerland, they look after their patients, do housework and are on call 24 hours a day. Their families and friends are in their home countries, and they often only see them once a month for a few days. |
| 60 | The migrant care worker Manyi Gillich was 52 years old when she first came to Switzerland to find work as a carer. She managed a cultural centre In her home country, Hungary, for 35 years. She loved her job, but her salary was not enough to pay for her son’s higher education. Today, Manyi Gillich earns 135 francs a day, with room and board. She is available 24 hours a day for her patients, although medical care is provided by Spitex. Manyi Gillich has cared for many people until the day they died. In the meantime, her own mother needs care in Hungary. Her husband is taking care of her, so that Manyi Gillich can stay in Switzerland until she retires. She spends a month in Hungary every year and goes there every six weeks or so to see her family. She keeps in touch on a daily basis via Skype and Whatsapp. |
| 61 | “The woman I’m looking after can ring for me any time she likes with the bell. Sometimes it rings three times a night.” |
| 62 | “Round the clock care is extremely stressful. I live with the people I care for, I do their chores, shopping, cooking, cleaning, laundry … Although I occasionally have a few hours with nothing to do, I have virtually no free time – apart from days when someone from the family comes to visit. 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, I’m available and I work an average of 14 hours a day.” |
| 63 | “In the beginning, I came to Switzerland through an agency. The salary was enormously low and the employment was not correct. I will not receive an AHV pension for these four years because nothing was paid. I would never work for an agency again. The agencies only care about their profit.” |