Fasching

Ho Narro Dear Reader,

It has been been Fasching week over the last few days and a good friend from home came to visit in order to celebrate with me. Fasching is also known here as Fastnacht or Fasnet depending on which dialect you favour, although it is also known as Karneval to our more northern counterparts. One theory is that the name Karneval comes from 'carne vale' - farewell to meat - as it is celebrated right before Lent; as to where Fasching comes from, I have no idea!

The cold and snow having eased up specially on Wednesday, my friend and I ventured into the Altstadt in the hopes of catching glimpses of some wandering Narren. We ended up arriving too late for the main Butzenlauf (some form of procession), although did end up getting ambushed by a group of French revolutionaries (think Les Mis) wielding burning torches and dragging a coffin through the streets...We decided to have a drink to calm our nerves, having almost had our eyebrows burnt off, but this was not to be a relaxing and calming evening! Having arrived at a Wein Stüble in the depths of the Niederburg Altstadt, we entered some form of Fasching party. More restrained than a pub with crazy drunken dancing would have been in the UK, we settled in a corner, only to be serenaded with songs - both the traditional Fasching songs and ones about drinking a lot of Bodensee wine. At our departure our enthusiastic and slightly worse for wear serenaded took the time to inform us was most displeased with our lack of costume and would need to dress more appropriately for the following day.

Unfortunately though we did not heed this advice and I was again woefully under dressed in dealing with the Narren during the celebrations of Schmotzigen Dunschtig (roughly translating as Fat Thursday) - the first real day of carnival celebrations. Despite our lack of suitable attire, we ventured into town on a bus filled with big cats, clowns and other creatures, before coming across a small procession leading a large tree through the streets.

Intrigued, we followed this group and ended up witnessing the Narrenbaumsetzen. This is where a group of Narren put up a large tree (much like a maypole) without any mechanical power; thus, through the use of large sticks tied together like children's chopsticks being thrust upwards by the more butch Narrs within the team. The tree is said to show the dominance of the Narren (fools) at this time of year.

Forging onwards into town, we came across a pirate ship in the middle of one of the main shopping streets - children on the top deck, alcohol down below! Of course, many of the other revellers were fully clad for the event, including having decorated modes of transport, my favourite being Daddy Viking pulling along smaller Viking children in a mock longboat..

Our heads confused by these unusual occurences in our morning, we returned back to mine and unfortunately managed to miss all the big evenings celebrations and jollity. I'm kicking myself for not going now (although I only got a Baden Mütze - like a woolly bobble hat - to wear today), but did very much enjoy our girlie evening of chocolate feast and Lloyd Webber double bill: Phantom of the Opera followed by Love Never Dies.

Friday was spent exploring the streets of Kreuzlingen (the Swiss town over the border) and trying to work out how Swiss people can afford their own products...no wonder Kaufland is filled with Swiss people on a Saturday afternoon seeking out (relatively) cheaper groceries.

One can only wonder what the rest of Fasching will bring - this morning saw an open air concert on the main street, which also included some can-can dancing attempts - and I'm only a little jealous of my friend's invitation to spend Rosenmontag at the Karneval celebrations in Köln (Cologne). Carneval time (said to be the 5th season within Germany) is clearly the perfect way to signal the end of exams and mark the finishing of my first semester here in Konstanz.

Boiling an Egg

Hallodri Dear Reader,

Today I did something, I'm not convinced I've ever done before: boiled an egg. Now I am not the most culinarily skilled person, as my other half with testify - memories of the mushroom risotto disaster of Valentine's Day 2010 still haunt me when I go in the vegetable section of the local supermarket - but most people would agree that cooking an egg is pretty basic stuff. If so, I must be among the ranks of 1930s husbands who never entered the kitchen, and I'm fairly sure even they would have a headstart on me.

It's not for lack of trying on either my parents or my own part. From a young age, my mother and father have tried to teach me to cook, and I can make you a pretty mean Spag Bol or Stir Fry should the need arise. My family have suffered through enough attempts at me trying to follow a recipe over the years to know that cooking does not seem to come naturally to me. Something will inevitably either burn at a really low temperature or be undercooked despite best attempts to crozzle. I've cooked fried breakfasts on camp stoves, helped prepare three course meals for 28 and even passed a Food Technology GCSE, but it seems that some of the more simple skills have been bypassed. Even buttering bread took me an age to learn - if you need someone with an uncanny ability to rip bread to shreads within two moves, then I am your girl. I can give porridge that sets like cement, scrambled eggs with the consistency of a mousse and whipped cream that turns into butter, all without really knowing where I went wrong.

But now I am determined - I will learn to cook the basics, and from there springforth to the realms of Masterchef genius. Finally I have mastered the art of pasta (read the timings on the side, it always helps); rice (all the water needs to just disappear, then stir it madly to prevent it sticking); and very nearly the potato. I spent a good eight hours baking Christmas goodies with my housemates, make all my own pasta sauces, and almost managed to get those carrots to roast last week...Goodbye strange cheesy rice recipes and hello cookery freedom!

Oh and if you want true testament as to how bad my cooking is, I couldn't even follow Delia in boiling an egg properly...the yolk still came out solid in the middle, so my dippy soldiers were all unloved.

Baby, It's Cold Outside

Brrrrrr Dear Reader,

It is cold in Konstanz. Really cold. Like, your nose feels like it's going to drop off just from opening the door, cold. I guess I should have expected it really - Germany does, after all, have snow in winter and I suppose I don't live that far away from several sets of mountains. Still, having been assured that the Bodensee has its own little micro-climate, meaning that snow is (supposedly) rare and the cold (apparently) won't last that long, it has come as a bit of a shock to have an average of -12ish over the last few days (not to mention windchill!).

Unlike my village back home, however, Germany does not grind to a halt at the first sign of snowflakes. Despite the ice on the roads, buses were still running (almost) to time and one poor Learner was still having their driving lesson. The schools were still open - no snow days for these children - and people were still going about their daily business. My mother's fears that I should start stockpiling tin cans of food have luckily been unnecessary, although possibly I should have heeded the advice of the hot water bottle...

Narri, Narro!

Alaaf Dear Reader,

In the interests of furthering my knowledge into Fasching and the Narren, my Saturday was also spent Treffen-ing the Narren. The daylight hours afforded a much greater success in photographing, so here are some of my snapshots from wandering around the Altstadt:

Some of the Narren were happier to be photographed than others:

My trip through the Altstadt landed me in the middle of the celebrations, which included some form of tree raising ceremony (honestly, no idea what was going on there) and groups of children playing a wooden instrument similar to maracas whilst singing what I believe to be traditional songs for this time of year. Again, I was confused and no-one seemed to be offering any form of explanation; although this lovely lady took a liking to my shopping and couldn't understand why I had brought it with me to this outdoor concert...

In the evening, I met up with some of my fellow exchange students for dinner and to try and work out what was going on! Even inside the restaurant, we were not safe, and three different musical big bands turned up during our meal to serenade our munching...

And just in case anyone was wondering how the marching musicians keep their beer safe, fear not dear friends, they have it all covered:

Going a-Narren Treffen-ing

Helau Dear Reader,

Sandwiched between clowns, chickens, snow queens and some ‘Narren’, I spent part of this evening happily dancing in the street to live music to celebrate the Grosses Narren Treffen coming to Konstanz.

A Narr (plural, Narren) roughly translates as ‘fool’ or ‘joker’, and they are a staple of Karneval/Fasching, which is a big week-long festival all over Germany before Lent begins, with lots of costumes, music, dancing, and, I would assume, drinking of beer. It is said that the ‘carnival season’ is actually the fifth season within Germany, and judging by tonight’s pre-Fasching celebration, it should be a lot of fun when the time comes. This weekend is the Grosses Narren Treffen (literally translated, Big Meeting of Fools), in which groups from around Baden-Würtemberg who arrange Fasching in their own towns, all join up together to have a pre-Fasching mini-Karneval each year.

Not having really understood how big a deal Karneval is within Germany, I did not quite know what to expect, and was rather underdressed as part of the minority of non-costumed people. Anything goes it seems, and Narrens themselves appear to differ between groups, with varieties in colour, scale-size, facial decoration and general shape of silhouette achieved!

I decided to go along to the Monsterkonzert, which turned out to be a meeting of many groups of Narren Big Bands, playing lots of jolly tunes, and basically having a bit of a street party. Not realising the event appeared to begin with a procession of some kind, I did manage to find myself walking along with some of the Narren with confused faces of little princesses and witches looking at me, trying to work out what I had come as!

Having worked out that being in the parade without costume is not great etiquette; I sidled off to stand on the street side, only to have an entire brass band seem to follow me to this position. I ended up behind a Narr carrying a metallic blue marching tuba (tuba decorations appear to be important, I also spotted a group with cow patterns), clad in a glittery blue robe, complete with frilly sparkly lace and fake fur. Happily I bopped around behind him, trying to look like I wasn’t a total lost tourist, and wondering whether the teddy bear suspended on the end of the trombone was going to come flying off at some point!

This group’s playing over, the next group began, which seemed to annoy my new favourite Tuba-Narr. Turning to me, he commented that the real way to have a Monsterkonzert was to have all the groups playing altogether at the same time (preferably all with the same piece of music). He also allowed me to stand inside his tuba for a bit, which was quite heavy and kindly laughed along with me as I attempted to bob around holding it in time to the music. Seeing the sympathetic looks of my fellow audience members, it was clear that they realised I had not got a clue what was going on – various older couples gave me the knowing “You don’t really understand what’s going on here, do you?” head tilt with small smile – clearly I will have to get a costume for the real thing…

German Lecture Culture

Ein gutes Rutsch ins neues Jahr Dear Reader,

This week has marked the restart of my lectures following the Christmas break, and I realise that I have not yet had the opportunity to present my social study of lecture-goers behaviour here in Konstanz.

Lectures here in Germany appear to fulfil a very different role than they do back at home. Whether it is a place to eat your Chinese takeaway, play a football game on the iPad or to have a jolly good chat with your neighbours, this appears to be the purpose of these row-filled rooms. Taking notes also appears to be lacking here among most of my fellow lecture-goers, and walking in/out of the room across the front of the lecturer is totally acceptable. Sometimes I wonder whether these people are simply going for a little walk or have discovered a secret alternative meeting of minds which will inform them in a better way. Half of my lecturers also appear to have adopted the talk-and-walk technique, going for a little wander through the rows of us in the audience whilst still speaking; though with their heads buried in their papers, I’m worried for the day they forget where the stairs are. Also, when did it become acceptable to start lectures at 08.30am and exams at 08.00? Evidently the German work ethic is very different from my own…Although good morning exercise is provided by your spinny chair, which constantly wants to thrust you forward through the desk knees first!

The end of the lecture also has its own peculiarities. Rather than polite applause or the sound of rustling papers, the Germans favour the academic knock (I am assured this also occurs in debate competitions, but possibly nowhere else?). This has only ever occurred in lectures, classes and events I have attended at the University, that at the end of a speech, the speaker is returned gratitude by people knocking and tapping on the table, chair or on themself. Not in a polite, ‘Are you in?’ type of way, but rather either in an aggressive rapping with great enthusiasm or in a decidedly half-hearted manner, barely making contact with the surface. I didn’t even realise you could make such a variation in your knocking ability, though it should be remembered that it is an appreciation of genius (or lack of) and as such, it must be completed before running out of the lecture hall with great gusto to avoid being the last person in the room. Perhaps there is an Audimax monster that eats the last student left - the lecture-goers do appear to be gradually decreasing in number...

It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year

Merry Christmas Dear Reader,

In celebration of the yuletide, I have returned home for about a week of festive frivolity and joy with the family back in Blighty before the semester resumes itself. Unlike the UK, which runs on three terms, Germany is based on the two semester model – winter and summer – and as such, Christmas is only a short break and not a full blown vacation. Apologies for not reporting on each event as it happened; I’ve been spending my time catching up with many members of the family (12 of us on Christmas Day).

On Christmas Eve Eve, my other half and I went to the Royal Albert Hall to attend the Carols by Candlelight concert. Accompanied by the Mozart Festival Orchestra, resplendent in Mozart period costume complete with wigs, and the Mozart Festival Chorus, we sang our way through many of the older Christmas carols and songs. Much to our delight, there were also two readings – from A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens (one of my favourite books) and from The Birth of the Infant Jesus (which my other half believes was the gospel of Luke).

On Christmas Day we headed to The Swan pub for a traditional Christmas dinner with all the trimmings; I was in heaven as I ate my way through apple and raspberry crumble, rather than Christmas pudding. Returning home utterly stuffed, we then proceeded to play many games, much to my father’s delight, as well as singing various songs horrendously loudly including much of the Sound of Music – I’m not sure my family are ready to imitate the von Trapps in public quite yet!

On Boxing Day we went to St Michael’s Manor in St Albans for Afternoon Tea, which was served on a three-tier cake stand, complete with little sandwiches with the crusts cut off, a selection of yummy petit fours (little cakes) and scones to be filled with clotted cream and strawberry jam. We had a lovely time pretending to be in a period drama ‘taking tea’ and letting the world go by for the afternoon.

Today though was less ladylike, as my other half took me to a Rugby match for ‘his team’. It was not quite how I had imagined it was going to be. Having never been to a sports match of any kind, I was imagining some form of scrum both on and off the pitch, but the reality was rather different. Instead both teams’ supporters were sat together and the songs were politely sung in friendly rivalry, without menace. What also surprised me was how much standing around there was during the actual game. There were patches of intense action with mad running and crazy tackles, which were exciting and thrilling, even though I had no idea what was going on most of the time! Apparently one team was not doing the scrum properly, so this lead to a lot of getting into hold, stopping and then reforming – this happened at least four times in a row until the referee got bored or they did it properly or something...Would I go back? Yes, if I was invited and if my inviter doesn’t mind having to explain everything to me and suffer my morbid interest in first aiding!