Thomas Breathnach leaves the modern world behind in Philadelphia to discover the Amish way of life, just an hour down the road…
Philadephia, primetime television, and a cue dramatic commercial for “one of this season’s most awaited fall premieres”. It was Breaking Amish; the latest reality TV show tapping into the fascination with America’s “plain people”. In the show, a group of young Anabaptist teenagers up sticks from their simple life in rural Pennsylvania for the bright lights of the outside “English” world. But as Rebecca, Abe and Jeremiah saddled up for Manhattan, like horse and buggies passing in the night, I was making a break for their homeland for my own one-man show: Amish Country – Unplugged.
My escape began at the Amish-Mennonite Centre in Lancaster County, located just an hour from the parallel universe of Philadelphia. Lancaster, where the Swiss and German-rooted Amish have been steering their plough for over four centuries, is the nation’s oldest Anabaptist settlement and home to over thirty thousand Amish. I’m greeted by my guide David Fiddler, of the River Brethern order, who offers blinker-free tours around the bucolic bliss of Amish Country (€19 per hour; mennoniteinfoctr.com). Sporting a wiry grey beard, wide-brimmed hat and narrow spectacles, twinkle-eyed David was just the wilkum-party I was hoping for.
Given the local aversion to the motorcar, I was in the driving seat for this tour however. Settling back into my rent-a-car, the turn of ignition relaunched a deafening radio blare. “Ooops, sorry about that, David!” I said, a little red-cheeked. Lesson one in Amish culture: music is considered ungodly.
As we struck off on our rustic road-trip, daily snapshots soon awaited: Budweiser-like draft horses worked the maize fields, Amish women stocked road-side stalls with fruits and preserves, horses and buggies lined outside the local Target mall. It wasn’t long either before we encountered our first jarvey traffic jams. “Oh, you can just pass them”, David advised. “Just don’t honk like those drivers from New Jersey!”.
Our first stop was to the home of young married potter, Jacob King. Chatting about crockery, horses and the mechanics of his recently crafted grandfather clock, I browsed around Jacob’s humble home, already feeling like a cast extra from Witness. The kitchen brimmed with jars of freshly made chutneys, in the lounge, children’s bible stories filled the shelves, while on the veranda, his wife’s handmade quilts lured passers-by. “This one is $900”, Jacob informed me, fishing out the price-tag.
Our afternoon continued along old mills, Amish schools, and a typical Amish farm where we met a couple of children chatting in their timeless native tongue: Pennsylvania German. “Wie heisst du?”, David quizzed one girl, to a coy response of “Suzie-Lynn”. It was all quite surreal, but with a booming Amish population, this is one minority dialect which is flourishing: Pennsylvania German spelling bees are even the hottest tickets in town.
The language factor also underpins the Anabaptist sense of identity. “Oh, I’m a German!” David exclaimed, “I’m only American by birth”. In fact, the Amish don’t recognise the U.S. anthem, don’t enrol in the military and tend not to vote. Nevertheless, some members of the Anabaptist community bucked that apolitical tradition by voting in last November’s presidential election. “Well, they’ve got a real cracker pot in there right now!” David continued. “We need to get him out!”. So this was why they call Pennsylvania a swing state then.
Given the clandestine nature of the community, traditional Amish-run accommodation is thin on the ground in Lancaster and farm-stays with Old Order families are non-existent. Away from the touristy motel strips however, I searched uphill and down dale for a postcard farm stay before happening upon two-hundred year old Neffdale Farm, run by a Christian “English” family. Inside the old-world farmhouse, my bedroom was the perfect explosion of chintz, with a floral quilted bed, antique davenport and rocking chair. Outside my shutters meanwhile, was a scene of postcard panorama of Amish homesteads; Friesians grazed in pastures dotted with cornflowers, children raced across farmyards on pedal-less bikes.
The next cockcrow, I ditched my motor car for some old-school horse power and caught a traditional buggy ride with local lass, Miriam Meyer. Miriam, whose family have been carting Japanese tourists around Lancaster’s byways for a generation, was dapperly draped in a traditional blue gown, while her carriage was kitted out with leather upholstery and battery powered indicators. “Ask me anything you want!” she chimed, before bolting us off like Laura Ingles Wilder.
Cantering along the countryside, Miriam and I shot the breeze about daily life in Amish Country, including the Ordnung; the set of rules which govern the lives of each individual Anabaptist community. Best known of these are the Amish’s general rejection of modern technology and the shunning of church members who defy their strict doctrine. Yet complexities exist. For a relatively liberal branch like Miriam’s River Brethern, even dancing is a total “nein nein”, while for the most conservative Schwartzentrubers sect, the growing of flowers is considered a verboten act of pride. (You’ll find brides carrying bouquets of celery in those quarters). It’s not all a tale of total sobriety, however: “We’ve no rule against a swig of Jack Daniels – for medicinal purposes” Miriam joked.
We also chatted about Rumspringa; the period where Amish teenagers experience the outside “English” world before making their decision to become baptized to the church. During this period, adolescents are given free reins to drink, dance, philander in Philadelphia, or indeed star in a reality TV show. “I spent some of my own time down in D.C.” Miriam told me, “but then I realized I wanted to come home”. I guess Amish Hills are that little bit greener.
With nightlife in Amish Country not even amounting to a hoe-down in a hay barn, that evening I made my way to the county’s main crowd-puller: Christian theatre. The pretty railroad village of Strasburg is home to Sight & Sound (sight-sound.com; €38); a local drama group lauded for their productions of biblical stories – along with a supporting cast of livestock. Somewhat expectant of a donkey in a village hall, I arrived to an impressive Vegas arena with beam-lighting illuminating the heavens; this was in fact, the largest Christian theatre house in the world. Along with two thousand worshippers, I was ushered in to a high-end “English” production of Jonah and the Whale; the costumes of Broadway stock, the production, a touch of Cirque du Soleil. The religious razzle-dazzle all seemed a little incongruous to the world outside however, and as the captive audience gasped at Jonah being engorged by an (admittedly impressive) paper maché whale, I was longing for the simple life back at the farm.
After making my early exodus from Strasburg, I’d soon returned to the refuge of my room in Neffdale. It may have been only nine o’clock, but already the clip-clop of passing horses had petered out, while across the fields at the Otto farm, the kerosene lamps were being dimmed for the night. With my final night meeting an early curtain call, I knew I’d find myself missing the curious, solemn serenity of Amish Country. I imagined, it probably wouldn’t take long for Rebecca, Abe and Jeremiah to feel the same.
The Know How
Getting there
Aer Lingus (0818 365 000; aerlingus.com) flies from Dublin and Shannon to New York JFK from €518 return, from which Thomas caught the Megabus to Philadelphia (from €1; megabus.com). Unsurprisingly, there’s little demand for public transport in Amish Country so renting a car is a must. (01 870 5777; hertz.ie)
Staying there
Waking up to the clip-clop of horses and buggies at Neffdale Farm costs from €31pps B&B. Tel 001 717 687 7837; neffdalefarm.com
For a budget base, try the Smoketown Inn, set along a strip of touristy motels near Intercourse. Ask to stay in their quaint converted carriage house – it may be as close to a barn-raising as you get. €23pps B&B; tel 001 717 397 6944; smoketowninn.com
Snuggle up with your Amish quilt at Homestead Guesthouse; one of the few Amish run B&B’s in Lancaster. The family also offer a romantic garden cottage “for married couples”. €39pps; tel 001 877 272 7252; homesteadguesthouse.com
Five great things to do
Experience Amish life as it was, and still is, at the Amish Farm & House heritage centre. Try and visit the old Amische Schule to chat with former school teacher, Frau Beiler. (€6; amishfarmandhouse.com)
Let the kids taste-test their way through Hershey’s Chocolate World. Okay, it’s no Cadbury, but it’s still the Willy Wonka factory of American candyland. (admission free; hersheys.com)
Stock up on local handmade goodies and haberdashery at Bird-In-Hand Farmer’s Market. This season’s must-haves? Amish bonnets. (birdinhardfarmersmarket.com)
Savour the grape and grain delights of Lancaster’s beer & wine scene. Specialities include spicy Gewurztraminer whites and robust stouts from the Rumspringa Brewing company. (lancaster-gallery.com)
Enjoy some traditional Amish cooking at a Stoltzfus Farm Restaurant. A good rule of dining thumb: if an eatery closes on Sundays, it’s the real Amish deal. (stoltzfusfarmrestaurant.com)
For more information, visit padutchcountry.com
Irish Independent, January 12th 2013