Fasching!

It’s another fun time of the year here in Europe, the “Fasching” season. It’s like Mardi Gras on steroids. Different countries and regions within countries celebrate at different times and slightly different ways, but with one thing in common, costumes. Venice has the Venetian look, obviously, white masks and elegant costumes. The Basel, Switzerland celebrations seems to take on a more ominous tone, with the parade starting at 4:00 A.M. literally in the dark, the town shuts off the street lights. The celebration there continues for 3 days, with parades every day. The costumes, masks and lanterns carried in the Basel parades (large paper lanterns carried through the street, sometimes over 6 feet tall) are often less jovial and often address political issues. It’s really amazing.

Last year, I was almost relieved when the Fasching season was over. Three weekends of partying and celebrating was getting to me. I’m not getting any younger! The first year I participated was amazing. Friends of mine invited me to a “Hexenball”. Hexen means witch. Europe is seeped in tradition and the Hexen groups are just another reflection of that. This was almost like attending a beer fest in a small hall, but you had to dress in costume. The costumes were amazing. I really didn’t know what to expect, since Halloween is an American tradition, but the German’s blew me away. The costumes were great, lots of thought and time went into them, everything from Pirates, cavemen and women, “hausfrau’s” (cleaning ladies) to Caribbean peddlers were represented. The evening followed a full entertainment program, and I remember watching the stage thinking, “I can’t believe I’m witnessing this.” Never in a million years would I even have enough insane thoughts to even come up with the stuff I was seeing. The “Hexen” groups are all over Germany. They’re not “witches” per say, but grown men and women (mostly men) dressed in identical old women’s printed muumuu type dress, apron and head scarf. They proceeded to perform this choreographed dance/ tumbling number, complete with brooms. I swear I saw this. They performed an initiating ceremony where the new member was dunked head first into a tub of champagne and??

There was also a band and other choreographed numbers to entertain…a group of young women with pink bunny suits dancing to an American music medley to include “Moulin Rouge”, a young men’s group performing to the Beach Boy’s “Surfing USA” and last but not least, a group of men dressed in period gowns from “Dance of the Vampire” dancing to a medley of songs from that musical. The main character had a beard. It was hysterical. In between all this, Guggamusig groups performed. Guggamusig is basically marching bands with crazy costumes and masks. I have become a Guggamusig groupie since I have first witnessed this. And finally, in between the drinking, toasting, applauding, and dancing on tables all night, you could dance on stage to the DJ. I will NEVER forget this craziness. I only wish we had something like this in the states.

Over the next couple of weeks there will be countless parades and parties. The parades are extremely interactive. Like Mardi Gras parades, you’re thrown treats, but you can also get harassed by the many “Hexen” groups with crazy costumes and scary masks; marked with ink or dumped on with tons of confetti or even kidnapped for a few blocks. Last year I was put in a container resembling a garbage bin on it’s side and wheeled for a few blocks. I screamed bloody murder until they let me out. I think I scared them :)

Frohes Neues Jahr! Happy New Year!

Welcome to my blog! Ich bin ein Auslander….I am a foreigner, a transplanted Yankee, a Norwich native living in Germany since April 2004. I am amazed it is 2007. Time flies, but it really seems like a lifetime ago that I first arrived here. I had no idea what to expect. It’s everything you imagine it to be…fairytale looking, just like what you’ve seen on T.V. But to live here, as an American, an “Auslander” (foreigner) is something else. There are so many differences and some surprising similarities.

The Germans are used to us. There’s so many American Military Bases here since WWII, that Americans are really common place. Just like back home in the states, the attitudes of the people vary. Most people think we’re no big deal or we’re a bit of a novelty, especially if you’re in areas that are not too close to any of the bases. From my perspective though, I felt like a freak…

When I first arrived here, I was terrified to leave my apartment alone. Not for safety reasons, but for fear of sticking out, being obviously different. It’s funny, we all have that fear at home, wanting to belong, but it’s magnified when you’re living overseas. I have a whole new respect for foreigners living in the US, since I’ve gone through this culture shock and fear…fear because of not knowing the language. I felt like I had a great big “A” for American on my forehead. Paranoia sets in. “Is it obvious I don’t belong here, do I look that different? Why is EVERYONE staring at me?”

Germans stare at everyone, not just “Auslanders”. At first it’s unnerving, hence the paranoia described above. It took a long time for me to get used to it, accept it, ignore it and finally just stare back. Although the staring back trick doesn’t usually work like you think it would. Normally if someone is staring at you and you realize it, you FEEL it, you quickly look back at them and/or smile and usually the guilty party will look away. Not here. If you look at them because they’re staring at you, they don’t look away. You have to learn to stare back or ignore them, but most importantly, get over it…it’s not you and they’re not going to stop. It’s actually kind of funny now. It wasn’t then. That’s one cultural oddity, one of many that you wouldn’t expect.

I live in a “dorf”, a village, a small community inside a larger area. Think of Taftville or Greenville, that size community, but much more compact. There are about 4,000 people living in this village. There are two small grocery stores, a pharmacy, two bakeries, a butcher, several restaurants and pubs, a school, town hall, a fire department, etc. Pretty much at least one of everything you might need. A small village such as this, you’d think everyone is close knit and friendly. Sure, just like any other neighborhood, close as in word travels fast and everyone knows everyone else… and they’re business. When I finally gathered enough nerve to go out on my own, I felt empowered and because of this, I felt this desperate need to belong, to blend in with the crowd, to be part of the community. So, walking down the street I would smile and say hello…to everyone. At the time, I didn’t see any problem with this. I would say “Hallo” or “Guten Tag” (Good day) to complete strangers and either they would 1) STARE 2) Look away 3) Mumble something back to me, then look away. This did nothing to increase my confidence or erase my paranoia; in fact it made me feel worse. “GOD, I thought, I must look, act, or smell different! It must be so obvious I’m not from around here.” In hindsight, I look back and laugh, once again, at myself. Think about it. When was the last time you said hi to a complete stranger walking down the street? Never? I never really thought about it until this experience. I’ve been told that some areas in Germany are friendlier than others (the one I live in would be the less friendly area).

There’s nothing different there. It’s just like the USA in that aspect. Let’s face it folks, we are New Englander’s and we do live up to our stuffy personas time and again. I’ll never forget the time I visited East Texas and a complete stranger driving down the road waved to me and my friend who were standing in his yard. I asked who it was and he said he didn’t know. Talk about culture shock.