Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Oktoberfest!

Last weekend, for the second time in my life, I went to Oktoberfest. My mother-in-law lives in Munich and my own mom was visiting from the US, so we decided to take a little trip down there during this unique festival. I figure a blog themed around German culture really needs to see an entry if I go to this event, so here ya go. Because after all, if anything represents German culture, it's Oktoberfest, right? Actually, not really. Although most Americans, if asked what is "German", would recite a list of things typically seen at Oktoberfest: Lederhosen, Dirndls, big mugs of beer, pretzels, and the flags with the blue and white check design....actually these things are all typical of Bavarian culture, not exactly German culture. Well okay, the rest of Germany is also really into beer, it's true. And you can get pretzels just about anywhere. But the Lederhosen, Dirdls and all the rest of it is Bavarian. Bavaria is just one of 16 states in Germany. And it's got its very own culture. In fact, I'm not sure about this but I'd be willing to bet there's some sort of secessionist movement happening among the more deluded Bavarians out there. Bavarians tend to think Bavaria is superior to the rest of Germany and somehow special. In any case, no matter how important or dominating they try to be, it is still one of sixteen states and while its culture is quaint and unique, it is not representative of all German culture. I suppose because of the popularity of Oktoberfest and how many Americans come over just for that, that's how this image of Bavarian culture came to represent German culture to most Americans. So, just to be clear: the "German culture" seen at Oktoberfest is more "Bavarian culture" than anything. And many would argue by this point in time it's mostly just a big costume party, quite literally a song and dance production which is more about getting drunk and dancing on tables and then going on a roller coaster and throwing up, than anything truly Bavarian.

Oktoberfest lasts between 16-18 days, ends on the last Sunday of October, and has been an annual event for more than 200 years. It started out as public celebrations and horse races to celebrate the marriage of  Prince Ludwig  to Princess Therese in 1810 and soon became an annual event. Later an agricultural fair was added, as well as various other traditions. It is the world's largest fair and these days around 7 million people visit it each year (!!!!!).

Of course, we all know what it's really all about: drinking loads and loads of beer! There are, I believe, eight local breweries that each build their own huge beer tent (it takes about 4 months to build what is essentially the town of Oktoberfest) and serve specially brewed (and especially strong at about 6% alcohol) Oktoberfest beer in 1 liter beer mugs called Maß (remember that funny letter is like "ss", so effectively it's a Mass, which rhymes with das).




Now I'm someone who doesn't usually like beer. I'm a wino myself. But Oktoberfest beer is different. It really does taste better than regular beer (apparently they add extra sugar) and somehow the atmosphere just helps it go down easy. Maybe a little too easy....

I was there with my mom and my hubby, and we would order two at a time and sort of share them both between us. I have to say, I lost count after the second round. We started outside one of the tents in a little somewhat secluded area for our first round,



but soon moved into the tent. And then moved onto a different tent, as well as peeking our heads in a couple more besides that.



And what an amazing spectacle! The tents are varying sizes, but the larger ones hold up to 6000 people (!!!!). Each tent has a band playing in the center of the floor.



...and as the evening wares on, the dancing and singing get wilder and louder. Lots of people stand up on the benches and tables and dance, and some come crashing down ~you really do need to look out.




None of these pictures comes close to conveying the atmosphere and energy found in the beer tents at night. It's really really loud and vibrant and just crazy, in its very own Bavarian Oktoberfest sort of way. The people are all happy (an uncommon sight indeed in this country!) and friendly and it's easy to chat and dance and exchange smiles and share laughs with strangers.



After a few rounds we stumbled on over to an area where the rides are:



and rode a roller coaster called Höllenblitz, (Hell Flash). As scary as they tried to make it look from the outside, it was sure lame on the inside (I know some people like that, haha!). It was all in the dark, with some lasers and flashes going off. Oooooohhhh I'm scared!



But it was fun despite having no Flash of Hell whatsoever, as evidenced by the goofy look on my face.

On another note:
As you can imagine, Oktoberfest is no place for recovering alcoholics. Duh. Why am I bringing this up? Because, believe it or not, there is actually one place that does not serve alcohol:




You can see what a booming business they're doing. To be honest, it somehow made me sad to see that this was the most deserted corner of the whole place, not sure why as it just makes sense that people want to drink at Oktoberfest.

Notice in the first picture that they are also the only place that actually provided toys for children. We came into the Oktoberfest around 6pm, just as the day shift was heading home, and we saw plenty of kids among them. So I guess this non-alcohol place must be fuller during the day. And as a parent I am always happy to see there's somewhere that takes children into consideration and provides the likes of highchairs, crayons and paper, toys, and a kids' menu. For us, it was the ideal place to use the toilet ~no lines! Had we had Babu with us I'm sure this would've been a great place to stop for an apple juice. And actually we did consider bringing him during the day (not only are children banned from the beer tents after 8pm, but only a seriously confused parent would even think about bringing a child into that mess). But luckily my mother-in-law talked us out of it and graciously offered to babysit while we went to fill ourselves with beer at night. And as soon as we arrived it was obvious that, even during the day, this is no place for a young child. It's just too hectic and overwhelming ~a real assault on the senses. In fact we look forward to enjoying Oktoberfest with Babu someday. When he's still a kid we can go on rides together, and when he's older we can dance on tables to the worst hits of the 80s played by a Bavarian band while sucking down beer together. But until he's, I don't know, maybe three or four or maybe even older, we will steer him far clear of this event.

Friday, September 9, 2011

If you don't get the girl, go smash stuff in front of her house

I witnessed a very interesting cultural event last night and it fits perfectly to share it here.
It was around 7pm, just before dusk set in and I was cleaning up from dinner. I heard what sounded like someone dropping a glass outside on the street. Since glass tends to be broken indoors I figured this was something worth peeking out the window to see what was up. Such things constitute real excitement when you've been home with your little child all day. Before I could even get to the window I heard more crashing and clanging. What the hell?! I looked out to the street and lo and behold there was a small gathering of people ~kids and adults~ with baskets full of dishware throwing it on the street. Hey, a Polterabend!!! AAAaaaaaaaaa! I've only ever heard of this, and for whatever reason believed it was a rather outdated custom ~and it may well be.

The word Polterabend is like so very many German words that is two (and some are even three or four) words combined to make one. Poltern means to make a racket, Abend means evening. Any American who made it through the seventies will recognize the word Polter from the movie Poltergeist. Geist means ghost, so that explains that word. Hey is Poltergeist even a word or was it just the movie title? In any case, a Polterabend is an old German tradition whereby friends and family break crockery outside the home of a couple about to wed. I knew that part, but I was curious to learn more so I looked it up on good old Wikipedia. Apparently, it comes from a German belief that "shards bring luck" ~I'd never heard that one before. It has to be dishes though, not glass.  It's not exactly known where this belief and tradition come from. Some possible ideas are: from the practice of old Germanic tribes throwing shards to repel evil spirits. Or an even more ancient ritual of breaking sacrificial clay altars after they were used in ceremonies. Also mentioned was that perhaps the guy who didn't get the bride would just show up to her house the night before her wedding to someone else and break dishes to express his frustration in a manner which would not lead to anyone getting killed. This would be the most hilarious explanation for sure, but back in ye olde days I can see it being true!

Another part of this tradition is that the bride and groom have to clean up the mess:

This part represents that the couple will have to work hard to overcome life's rough spots. Me being full of Saturn astrologically and just the way I am, I especially love that part! You can count on the Germans to include mention of life's crises in their wedding traditions. That's one thing I adore about Germans ~they do not sugar-coat anything. They are very quick to admit how hard something is (some say they complain too much and this may be true, but it's perhaps just this realism gone too far at times) and will always be honest if things aren't hunky-dory. This quality can be kind of harsh to encounter in reality, especially if you're American where you're used to everything being "just fine" and even saccharin. (Reminds me of the excellent movie American Beauty, which so poignantly portrays this aspect of American culture). In fact, it's one part of my American conditioning I try to let go of and learn from the Germans how to be more real and honest. I'm always scared of offending someone, but I sometimes have to remind myself that Germans or people who live here are not likely to be as easily offended as Americans are. They're used to brutal honesty.

I'd love to illustrate this kind of stark German honesty, but of course I'm not able to find anything in my memory bank right now even though I witness it all the time. But let's just keep this one out on the shelf and I'll keep my eyes open and report on the next incident I encounter where this comes up.

I'm also storing up some of the neat and nifty German traditions I witness as the year goes on. There are some in every season it seems. I'm looking forward to sharing my view of these old traditions that still live on. Stay tuned!

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

Keeping up with the Schmitz's

Here's a little anecdote from last weekend to illustrate how the language barrier can create embarrassing situations (man oh man do I have a treasure trove of such situations, this being just the most recent):

Some neighbors of ours have an annual neighborhood party. Apparently this was the fifth annual party, although it was the first year we were invited. I reckon that having a child has earned us membership into this little group, and hence the invitation. On the invite it asked for a "Spende" for the salad buffet. Now, Spende means "donation". I had only ever heard this word used in the context of money. For example, beggars on the street ask for "eine kleine Spende" ~ a small donation. When I saw this phrasing, it did strike me as a little odd. I would figure they'd want you to rather bring a salad than money...but I have been to several German parties where the party-thrower asks for money in lieu of gifts, so I figured this was along those lines. From the American perspective this would be considered cheeky and rude. In American culture you're supposed to accept any gifts graciously, not ask for money. I suppose the onslaught in recent years in the US of registries is the way Americans are clear and direct about what they want you to give them. I've heard people now register for just about any occasion: a new baby, even bridal and baby showers. I wonder if people are doing this for their birthday wish lists as well. Here in Germany registries are unheard of, but people are not afraid to tell you what they really want: money.

So, I figured this was only odd by my American standards and I expected to see a little can on the table next to the salads for a little "donation", and I set off for the party with a 2 euro coin in my pocket. It didn't take long until I saw a few other neighbors arriving with salads or bread or some other culinary "donation" in their hands. Shit! I only stayed for 50 minutes, and I'm pretty sure not every guest brought something, so I think we were probably off the hook. But I do wonder if anyone noticed and thought me rude not to have brought a salad. It's also essential for this story (and my intellectual ego) that you know there is another German word, "Beitrag", which means "contribution". When I originally read the invitation, I had assumed if they'd meant "bring a salad" they'd have used the word Beitrag. I was wondering if perhaps Beitrag is more formal and in this context Spende would just be more friendly and casual. I asked V (the German hubster), who immediately recognized that they had meant a contribution of salad, not money, although he said he thought Beitrag would've been more appropriate and he couldn't explain to me the difference between Spende and Beitrag. Oh well.

But that's not all. I also managed to embarrass myself at this party in a way that language barriers could not excuse. I figured I was keepin' it real by not getting specially dressed for this shindig. Come as you are, ya know. I didn't put on any makeup (I wear makeup sometimes when meeting with others but not always, depending, and to work ~and then only mascara and occasionally but not always blush), I don't think I even bothered to brush my hair, and I wore my Birkenstock-style sandals I usually only wear around the house. On second thought, I could've given a moment's consideration to my appearance before leaving the house but hey, I'm a mom, what do you want? It wasn't until I was there and chatting with neighbors (most of whom I was meeting beyond just seeing-in-the-street for the first time) that I realized I was wearing a really low-cut shirt and my ample milk boobs were overflowing out the top. It was a hot muggy day and I had on my nursing tank top and a shirt on over it that was cut about the same as the nursing top, which is like a camisole. I'm not a person who routinely wears really low-cut tops and enjoys showing off my cleavage every chance I get (although I do like the cleavage I now have since becoming a breastfeeding mama, hehe). This just happened to be what I was wearing that day. Don't get me wrong: there's nothing at all wrong with a woman wearing a low-cut top. It was just inappropriate for this context. These people are relatively conservative and not what I'd call relaxed and "cool". They aren't fundamentalist right-wingers either, but just what we call in German "spießig" (that ß thingy is called "sharp s" and is like "ss", so it could also be written spiessig).  Spießig, or Spießer as the proper adjective goes, is one of those beautiful German words that doesn't really have a good-enough English equivalent. The dictionary would translate it as "bourgeois", "middle class", "square", "narrow-minded", or perhaps the most accurate "white-bread". But it's the way and amount the Germans use this word where it differs. Being called a Spießer is a pretty bad insult. The real joke is, everyone calls other people spießig and thinks they themselves could never be so mediocre and normal, yet most of us (at least those of us over 30) in some way are spießig. In America, people don't generally go around and talk about how square and white-bread other people or things are. But here in Germany I hear it quite often. Anyway, these neighbors are Spießers, not the type of people you want to show up wearing a hot-pink low-cut top to their party. I was mortified. To go with the low-cut top, I was showing up alone as my husband was out of town, whereas most everyone else was with a spouse. So, they not only thought I was a mooch showing up empty-handed, but now also a slut.

On the one hand, I do care what they think, or else none of these thoughts would've entered my head. But for the most part, I really don't give a crap if they think I'm weird. In fact, I'm pretty sure they would or already did think I was weird just because, well, we are weird. Although I have become more and more spießig the older I've gotten (for example booking package holidays, which I used to balk at as being only for the non-adventurous, or the fact that I'm having a Tupperware party this weekend ~you can hardly get more spießig than that!), I still have pretty radical views compared to the average person. Sooner or later I'll start posting about our parenting philosophies and practices, which could go under the umbrella -though are not limited to- Attachment Parenting. AP (as it's known) is seen as super-weird by many, and there are even people who are adamantly against it. In any case, it is the vast minority of us who are actually dedicated to doing things this way ~unfortunately! And there are many other ways in which V and I live a pretty unconventional life, as normal and spießig as we oftentimes are. I am mostly proud of that, and it's always been my way somehow to do things differently than most everyone else. But of course there is a part of me which feels insecure when I'm at a party with our spießig neighbors, especially when my boobs are screaming up from just below my face and I've shown up to a potluck empty-handed.

Ah well!

Monday, September 5, 2011

Looking out for your safety

Before I start on this tirade, I want to say that I need to be careful that this blog doesn't carry an underlying (or not-so-under lying) theme of me complaining about German culture, and reporting only on those things that I don't get along with here. That wouldn't be fair, and it reminds me another thing Eckhart Tolle always says: the ego loves to complain! Although I think all blogs are somewhat of an ego trip...I hope I can also use this space to honestly and sincerely reflect on myself and my relationship to Germany, and other things. Plus, I love it here! If I didn't, I wouldn't have stayed as long as I have, and founded a family and be raising a child here. It would be imbalanced to report on only those German things that drive me nuts ~as I am about to do. So, I'll have to start keeping my eyes peeled for the things I love about living here. It's a good exercise for me actually.

So, without further ado, here's something that drives me absolutely freaking mad. Actually, let me introduce this rant another way. This lovely reminder is painted on the wall at a nearby tram station:


It says: Order, Cleanliness, Security (or Safety, depending on context)
This about sums up the German view of life. It's gotta be risk-free and predictable. I heard that Germans are the most insured people in the world, and I'm sure this is true.
These pillars of German society (again, that's order, cleanliness and security) can be seen all over the streets and in the minds of the people. It goes very deep. One facet of this mindset I want to share today, something which drives me nuts on a daily basis, slowing down my bike rides and marring the beauty of our streets and pathways:


I don't even know how the hell you would call these gems of German-ness. Blockades? They are every-friggin-where! There is hardly a path that doesn't have these blocking the way. This is one of three I have to try and maneuver my bike through when I take Max to daycare. The other two look like this:



and are at either end of an underpass going under the train tracks. I have to go through this underpass in order to leave our little corner of the neighborhood and get anywhere, so I ride around these many times a day often. When we first moved here three years ago these weren't there, but about 1 1/2 years ago they suddenly appeared, much to my chagrin. I curse them just about every time I have to try and get through them. You see, I'm just not a graceful and adept enough bicyclist to be able to smoothly pedal through. I usually end up having to stop riding and use my foot to sort of guide me through, half-walking. Or sometimes I even have to get off and push the bike through (especially on the one going 'up'). I especially curse Germany when that happens. Once, only once, was I able to actually glide through on both ends. I was ecstatic! I try to make this an exercise in not complaining, as well as an exercise in improving my bicycling skills.

But really, most days, I am not that enlightened and I view this as an annoying and unnecessary obstacle course. I do get why they think this makes it safer. Hell, before they were there, sometimes someone (most often a teenage boy) would come barreling down the path and not bother to ding the bell to warn a potential person coming in the other direction (there's a blind corner) and it would be a collision course. I was never actually run into, but did have one or two close calls that made me jump out of my skin. So, in one sense, that danger is gone. Maybe these ones aren't the best example in fact. Look again at the first picture. The path is clear in both directions and it's flat. There would be zero danger whatsoever. These barricades are placed at nearly every path, and most of them are flat and safe. They just want to slow people down. Again, it is pretty much only teenage boys who are racing around without regard for safety. Everyone else is more or less paying attention and safe and considerate, with or without these dumb blockades. And the teenage boys are going to be unsafe and risky no matter what anyway. It is their parents' job to instill some sense of caution and consideration into them, not the German government's.

But the German government takes it upon themselves to look out for all of our safety, hence creating a populace who are overly fearful, afraid of change and averse to taking risks. I could go on and on all day here, but one example that comes to mind is Germans and dancing at concerts. I love live music and going to concerts and dancing. To me, that is medicine. Well, many of the concerts I've been to here have left me aghast at what I saw there: an audience of statues, just standing there as if they were watching the tickertape run on the stock market or something. Of course I always dance, but many times I've been the only one. If V (my hubby) is with me he dances too and we have a blast. But I've been to lots of shows alone and it is much less fun being the singular dancer amongst people who are frozen stiff, some of them looking at me like I were the who was out of place. It has literally left me in tears at times (okay, the fact that I may have had a few too many glasses of Sekt may or may not have had something to do with me getting all emo about it). Anyway, I digress. But it's just one of many many examples where you can see that Germans are frozen in fear. It's not their fault. Let's just blame the government! No really, there's a long history to this I'm sure, and the Germans are doing their best.

Hey it reminds me: I realize I'm making broad generalizations when I use "the Germans" in a sentence. It's not fair and it's not right. It sometimes gets on my nerves when people do that about Americans. Like: "Americans are so phony, asking 'How are you?' when they couldn't care less". For the most part that's accurate....but not all Americans are like that and I certainly don't want to be put in that box myself. Furthermore, there's a flip side to that coin: Americans are friendly and being friendly is a very important quality to have (this said by one whose beloved amazing astrologer once said "You're not what they call a 'nice person'"). I may not be overly friendly, but it's a quality I would like to cultivate more in myself, and I truly appreciate it when people are friendly to me. Anyway, there is a flip side to the German over-cautiousness: Germans are very thorough in forming their opinions, and will always dig deeper and look at the aspects others might miss. They have a piercing intellect which wants to know more and understand fully, not just superficially. No wonder so many of the world's best scientists, mathematicians and philosophers have been Germans.

Well, whether I'm praising or cursing the Germans, I do see how unfair it is to make these generalizations. I do try to see each person as an individual, not just someone from this or that culture. It's so important to be able to do this. We are so much more than our backgrounds, even though our backgrounds do condition how we see and relate to the world. So, I just wanted to say that to be clear. And for the purpose of this blog, I am going to say things about 'the Germans' or 'Americans', or any number of other groups of people. I just don't see any way around that when talking about culture and people. Please know that I know better though, than to believe all Germans or all Americans are a certain way. I know you know better as well.

Sunday, September 4, 2011

Gah! Does this HAVE TO be in German!?

Okay, as I wrote that title I realized it has a double meaning. I meant, originally, that all the words on this blog ~the places you can click and the general language~ not what I write but the other words~ are all in German. I've noticed that when I visit other blogs, regardless of the language the blog is written in, it obviously finds my ISP addy and goes from there, so everything comes up in German. But dammit I am American and this blog is written and read in English and I want the whole damn thing to be in English! How the hell are my readers supposed to navigate around if it's all in German?! There probably is some way to change these settings, but so far I haven't found them.
So, for now: you, dear reader, are stuck with German around the edges although this blog is in English.
 (edited to add: I think if you're reading this from anywhere other than Germany or Austria or Switzerland, it'll actually come up in English so forget that!)

...and that brings me to the double meaning. My life, it seems, is in English with German around the edges. I have been here in "The Fatherland" (aka Germany) for 8 years now. My German is pretty good, so they say. But I am somehow averse to speaking it. Not in those everyday situations, like calling the glass company to find out when our door will be delivered, or finding out that my son only slept 30 minutes at daycare and that the daycare provider has yet another day off next week (*sigh*, all those German holidays)...you know, that sort of thing I can handle beautifully if I do say so my damn self. There, my German is fluent and fine. But in social situations...that's where I flounder. They say ("they" being my hubby and a few other German folks I socialize with) my German is great. But inside it sure doesn't feel that way. Inside it feels like only 50-75% of my personality is coming through. That the rest is rattling the cage trying to get out and make a point, but can't find the words. I know, I know....my energy and heart come through regardless of how eloquent I am. I know from my interactions with Max that one need not know any language to get one's point across and have a perfectly heartful communication. Yet I still feel this way. Somehow my ego is tied to being intellectual and eloquent. And I can't do that in German. The hubster would say it's good for my spiritual development that my ego gets thwarted by the language barrier. And perhaps it's so. In any case it's enormously frustrating to be confronted with the limitations of speaking a second language.

And so I open this new blog with the spirit of enquiry into my life situation. My favorite spiritual teacher Eckhart Tolle always makes the distinction between your life and your life situation. My current life situation finds me playing the role of mama to the inimitable Max, and living in a country which I did not grow up in. There is no suitable word for that. I don't like the term foreign country because, well, the more I'm here the less foreign it is. It may be foreign to a tourist, but not to me. Japan is a foreign country. Germany, however, is not (much as I am still and always uncovering new facets of the culture here, it's quite familiar by now). The phrase living abroad also doesn't quite fit somehow. It implies that you will some day go back to your native country and living in that other country is just a stint and a phase. I always think of students spending a semester abroad, or travelling abroad. There is that implied connection to the native country that makes the stay in the other country temporary. And really I have no idea if my stay here is temporary. Well of course it is, in the sense my stay in this body and this life is temporary, as it is for all of us! But actually I have no idea if I'll ever live in the good old United States again (sorry Mom and Dad). But indeed the connection will always be strong. No matter how spiritual I think I am and how much I try to transcend my cultural conditioning, there remains this invisible cord always keeping me somehow tethered to the American culture. I couldn't think of a looser term than tethered (tied sounded even harsher), but the fact is, I will always be American.I will always see Germany through the eyes of an outsider. And I like that! For the most part I like being a foreigner. But man almighty it has it's challenges.

In this blog I want to share some of my cultural observations ~from the more objective eyes of a person who did not get the cultural conditioning of this particular land. And cultural observations in general. I also want to share my journey as a mama. What a trip it is to be a parent!!! And a bicultural parent, raising a bilingual, bicultural child. I also want to share my experiences on a so-called spiritual path. I say "so-called" because attaching the word spiritual to one's character has this arrogant connotation to it somehow, doesn't it? Like "oh, I'm so spiritual, hoooohoooo!" Bah! I also want to share my parenting journey as someone doing many thing the unconventional way. They call it Attachment Parenting...but that too has this hoo-hoo hippier-that-thou underlying meaning to it, so let's be careful the labels we attach to ourselves.

I am who I am, imperfect and just going along here. This is my blog. Welcome!