The View From My Other Window

Oktoberfest!

 

Two weeks ago, I had the pleasure of being visited by two friends from the US. Having studied German for four years and having lived in Germany for another three, I decided it was finally time for the three of us to tackle the most famous of all German tourist events–Oktoberfest.

 

In truth, all the signs that welcome you to the festivities should be given a subtitle, “Oktoberfest: The embodiment  of all German stereotypes.” Dirndels, Lederhosen, Pretzels, White Sausage, (and obviously Beer) reign supreme at this event. I was shocked to see that even young men and woman pulled out their traditional costumes, and they looked good!

This is Michael. He tried to tempt Melissa into marriage by mentioning his 150 cows. She was sadly not impressed.

Oktoberfest originally began as the wedding celebration of King Ludwig of Bavaria(As in crazy King Ludwig, who also commissioned the construction of the real Cinderella Castle in southern Germany)  and Princess Therese of Saxony. The original party drew around 40,000 locals, and the event was complete with horse races, and of course, free-flowing beer. 

 

Today, the landscape of the two-week celebration is marked by its enormous “Beir Zelte” or beer tents from the local Munich breweries. Each tent can hold around 94,000 guest. (That’s the Spaten tent behind Melissa and I. The second picture is taken from inside). Each year, anywhere from 6 to 8 million people arrive in Munich for Oktoberfest and together consume around 5.5 million liters of beer and 45,000 liters of wine. 

Pure ridiculousness. 

Local Celebrities

This article was actually published last winter, but I just got my hands on it. It is one more in a long line of interviews by people who continue to be simply baffled as to why an American, let alone two Americans (another student in my program in from Utah) would choose to come to Germany to study themselves. By this point, I must have done a dozen or so of these interviews. As per usual, I have been misquoted and left sounding arrogant and somewhat tool-like. Alas…

The translation into English is by the original author of the article, Julia Woehrle.

 

Far Away From Home to Discover Your Own Country: How two Americans are studying American Studies in Leipzig

To go to a strange country to get to know your own country better? May sound funny, but that’s exactly what Heather Carmody (23) and Michelle Glauser (22) have done. Since October both Americans have been studying at the University of Leipzig in the new Master’s American Studies program. “The critical distance of the professors here allows me to look at my own culture from another view,” finds Heather.

That is exactly how it goes with the new program–around varied perspectives. The Master’s degree is interdisciplinary and combines politics, culture, literature, and sociology. Anne Koenen, professor for American Literature and the leader of the institute, explains: “It was planned from the beginning, that the program would be international. That’s how a totally different discussion is accomplished.” In this respect is the program different for the Americans than if it were discussed in their home culture, explains Koenen. Heather noticed already after a short time, that it is not always completely easy, but she learned to deal with it. “If I always wanted to stand up for the “honor” of the USA, I would constantly feel attacked.” And Michelle adds: “I often think: if some of my fellow students had lived in the USA, they wouldn’t think what they do.”

Anyhow, Leipzig is fast becoming a second home for both, also because they are not in Germany for the first time. Last year, Heather worked as a teacher in Mittweida. She randomly found out about the new Master’s program through a speech given by the Leipzig American Studies professor Crister Garrett. “I thought, that was a big chance for me, although I actually wanted to do a Master’s in German Studies.” Michelle also sought a new challenge after working for two years. A program in another country seems to be like the right choice for her.

The group of Master’s students is very small right now. Besides the two Americans are two Germans who make the quartet complete. Lars Weise is one of them and is excited by the combination: “It gives me another perspective, because every day I get to hear how Germany functions, for example the bureaucracy.” Michelle finds the bureaucracy particularly horrible.

 

Lighter Notes From Canada

 

 

Just arrived after a 9 hour drive. Do we look like we’re faking?

 

Hovey Manor from our balcony

We had the lake all to ourselves

Safety first!

This was right before Frank tried to tip me. Not funny.

Ready for cocktails. Mom had a head start.

Enjoying his first bloody boar

Hovey Manor by night

A Resting Place

On the first weekend of September, 2008, my Father was given his proper burial. He had always made it clear–very clear–that he wanted to be cremated. Sentences like “I’m not gonna sit a box for eternity. That’d be ridiculous,” were his favorites whenever the subject would come up. But in all the years of his bantering on about the silliness of traditional burials, he forgot to tell us what step 2 should be. Step 1–no problem–cremation, but then what? This was the predicament facing my family in the aftermath of his death. It was important to us that his ashes be buried in a place that meant something to him–somewhere special. We thought about scattering his ashes throughout the UVA campus, but the idea of drunk coeds tromping over them (even if Dad would have found that amussing) took away the appeal. We also thought about burrying the ashes is Haddonfield, but what if we moved? After much discussion back and forth, we finally picked Hovey Manor, an Inn where we had vacationed often as a family over the years.

Hovey Manor sits on beautiful Lake Massawippi. It’s a place that my Father loved coming to–a chance to relax, eat well, have a few good drinks, and enjoy a bit of nature. For me too, it’s a place filled with so many happy memories. It was on that lake that my Dad first taught me how to use a canoe–something that ended in wet clothes and lost glasses, but a crucial stage in my development nevertheless.  It was also in the lounge of Hovey Manor that my Dad first taught me to play chess, and it quickly became a special bond between us. The game that so intensely bored my Mom and Brother could entertain Dad and I for hours.

So it was here, in a place that meant so much to us all, that we decided to lay Dad’s ashes to rest. We woke up early on Saturday morning and gathered at the docks. Drew and I snapped our life jackets shut, climbed into our kayaks and paddled out to the middle of the lake. There between our canoes, we said a prayer and let my Father go.