ein bisschen

Still without any formal language training, almost everything we say starts with: Sprechen Sie Englisch? The response, without fail, is always: ein bisschen (a bit).

Except, ein bisschen really means: I am fluent and will hold this entire conversation with you in perfect English!

Honestly, it is pretty amazing. Perhaps Germans use this response so that we will forgive any imperfections in their English, but often there are few to be had. The level of English fluency in this country is better than in the States!

der Papstbesuch

Born in Bavaria himself, and with a Freiburger secretary, the Pope made the Münster of Freiburg a stop on his German tour. Still without our personal possessions, there was literally nothing to do but try to get a glimpse of His Holiness!

We walked to the Altstadt (town center) on Thursday and Friday to see the preparations. Those with special invitations would be sitting on bleachers and grandstands outside of the Münster watching the proceedings on big screens. The large farmer’s market that occurs everyday on the Münsterplatz had been moved to a small side street to allow for the assemblage of twenty first century projection and sound equipment on all sides of this thirteenth century relic. The coolest thing I saw were the flags outside the Rathaus (Town Hall). Five in total: Freiburg, Baden-Württemberg, Germany, the flag of the European Union, and the Papal flag. 

Benedict was scheduled to land at the airport at 1:00pm and arrive at the Münster at 2 on Saturday. Joe and I walked up to the main street of town at 10:30am. There were plenty of people waiting already, so we took the first empty spot we could find and bellied up to the barricades. We burned the first hour playing Words with Friends against each other on our phones, but low batteries and prolonged squinting at tiny screens lead to an incomplete game. So…we just stood there, defending our personal space….for two and a half more hours!

Finally, the cheers started and everyone shuffled to get the best view. Here came his Holiness, seated high in his Popemobile.

And there he went!

He was going so fast!! This was no parade-walking speed. He acted as if he were late for church! If you didn’t set your camera for sports mode, you might be disappointed with the outcome of your snapshots.  

That was it. Then we walked back home. The T-Mobile store was showing the service inside the Münster on a flat-screen, so we stood there and watched for a few minutes. I must say, he has a nice colored complexion for an 80-something German.

As I write this now (Sunday), the parade of pilgrims has been flooding by the balcony for seven hours, since they woke me up at 8am. Joe started watching them before sunrise. They are on their way to and from the airport, where Benedict held mass this morning.

Dachau & Oktoberfest

The Walls are still awaiting household goods, and this is what we have in our possession at this point: one air mattress, two travel blankets and two travel pillows, two ceramic bowls, +/- 100 paper plates, two folding chairs, one dog, three dog beds, and the clothes we could fit into two suitcases.

So, thank goodness for our friends in Munich, who were willing to take us in and give us a real bed to sleep in for a few nights and lots of great conversation for several rainy days! What a wonderful reprieve from the monotony of empty rooms and the challenges of daily decisions: Should we sit on the floor or the folding chairs? Should we save this paper plate or re-use it?

I don’t have my book because it is somewhere, in a box, in a crate, on some sort of transportation apparatus, at an undisclosed location anywhere between Freiburg, Germany and Cherry Hill, New Jersey. However, one of these Munich institutions has got to be in there.

Dachau Dachau was the first concentration camp of the Third Reich, established in March of 1933, just 51 days after Hitler became chancellor. It was the only camp to have existed throughout the entire twelve years of Nazi rule. The statistics are sobering – barracks made for 200 were housing 2000 by 1944, more than 32,000 documented deaths in total – all of it going “unnoticed” by Dachau residents and certain German and foreign officials. It is unreal. Until, one stands in the crematorium, takes a deep breath, and lets the weight of thousands of tortured souls settle in the mind and heart.

The question is: How could so many people have thought it was ok, albeit right and civically responsible, to kill thousands of individuals based on their religious beliefs?

The only answer I could conger after our visit: Words.

After World War I, around 1929, the world economic crisis set in and Germany was struggling with unemployment, starvation, and economic depression. They needed a savior. They needed hope. Here enters Hitler, who used debt flotation to begin the construction of dams, railroads, and other civil works. Unemployment began to decline and Hitler spoke the words that Germans needed to hear to re-establish hope in the future. He promised the people that their country would return to its pre-WWI status. Granted, his methods of doing this included forcing women out of the workplace, genocide, and other crimes against humanity via extreme dictatorship. However, his words were so powerful, convincing, and motivating to a desperate population, that he soon persuaded the citizens it was their duty to rid Europe of Jews.

The chosen words of Nazi propaganda methods are still tangible at Dachau. Their irony almost punches visitors in the face. In wrought iron, the entry gate that every prisoner passes upon admittance to the camp reads: Arbeit Macht Frei “Work will set you free.”  Jews, beggars, homosexuals, and Jehoviah’s Witnesses are told that “Hygiene is your responsibility. Don’t forget to wash your hands.” The water is poison. The souls are so desperate, and the words so convincing, that compliance is not a question.

Words convince the citizens of Dachau to ignore the putrid stench of death that constantly lingers over the town. Words convince German and foreign officials that residents of the camp are kept in good health and given due process. Words convince Jewish prisoners to work countless hours on armaments that will be used to kill others just like them, and build barracks that will be the last resting place of fellow “political prisoners”.

Words can be erased, ripped up, burned, or deleted. However, they are seldom forgotten and their impact lasting. Words change history.

Oktoberfest  Now- this is the Munich that everybody wants to see. Oktoberfest is the yearly celebration of Prince Ludwig’s marriage to Therese of Saxony-Hildburghausen, Queen of Bavaria, in 1810. Seven million people flock from all over the globe to partake in this wedding reception. Until 1994, it was actually held in the month of October; however, weather conditions are more favorable in September, also allowing the festival to end on the German Reunification holiday (giving everyone an extra day to recuperate).

At its core, Oktoberfest is a county fair: carnival rides, food and drink tents, games for prizes, souvenirs galore, and all types of people wearing all kinds of garb. In reality, Oktoberfest is the world’s most amazing county fair. And this statement comes from a non-bear drinker!

The festival takes place in Munich’s fair grounds, Theresienwiese. The same location where other festivals are held throughout the year, and when empty, is simply a cement slab. However; what is created on this cement slab is no small feat. Each beer “tent” is more like a mini convention center. There is a stage in the middle which holds a band of 20+ people, hanging chandeliers the size of dinner tables, functional kitchens which probably dole out dozens of rotisserie chicken every minute, seating for thousands, and get this….real toilets….with scrubbers. Not a porta-potti in sight! That is just the inside. Outside, the tents are decorated in Bavarian style: functional clock towers, multi-story facades with real windows and balconies, flowers and flags galore. I really can’t even explain it. It is truly amazing. The best part: outside each tent, each brewery has a cart of over 25 wooden barrels pulled by 6-8 draft horses wearing their Sunday best. They stand patiently, waiting to greet revelers, and show off their digs!

Ahhhh….now onto the food and drink! Not being a beer drinker myself, the thought of knocking back a full liter of heady brew feels about as exciting as oral surgery. However, with a fresh pretzel the size of my face, obazda, a warm rotisserie chicken, and some sausage and mashed potatoes, the suds go down like water! I heard rumor of a tent that was exclusively wine and sweets. Next year, that will be the first stop!

I read a book about a man who traversed Ireland searching for the best pint of Guinness. The conclusion he came to is that it was the people and the place that made each of his pints taste a little different, and a little better. If the same holds true for Germany and its beer, than Oktoberfest is the place to be! A bit of Gemütlichkeit goes a long way.