So, in the United States we get, what? Six legal holidays? New Year's, Memorial Day, Independence Day, Labor Day, Thanksgiving, and Christmas, right? Maybe seven, if you count Columbus Day, which isn't a legal holiday everywhere. I say this just for reference, because now I give you a list of the legal holidays we celebrate here in the state of Sachsen:
New Year's Day
Good Friday
Easter Monday
Labor Day
Ascension
Whit Monday
Day of German Unity
Reformation Day
Penance Day
Christmas
St. Stephen's Day
Unfortunately we don't live in Bavaria, which is predominantly Catholic and, as a result, gets four holidays we don't get because everybody here is Lutheran — Epiphany, Corpus Christi, Assumption Day, and All Saints Day. I mention this just because last Wednesday was Penance Day, a Protestant holiday celebrated only in Sachsen. And once again I was struck with how strange these holidays are to me. With the exception of New Year's, Christmas, and Day of German Unity, nothing really happens on these holidays. There don't seem to be any widely participated in traditions associated with them, I guess because they're mostly religious holidays in a country where people aren't particularly religious anymore. Mostly all that happens is that the city just shuts down. And I don't mean like the U.S. on Labor Day. I mean it really shuts down. Not just banks and offices and schools. Every retail establishment closes — shopping malls and grocery stores and pharmacies. As far as I've been able to tell, the only things that stay open are gas stations and some restaurants and sometimes museums. The city turns into a ghost town. Traffic vaporizes, public transit runs a skeleton operation.
Almost every one of these holidays came as a shock to me our first year here. I would walk to the grocery store for milk only to find the place dark and locked. I think once Jake actually went into work to find his lab completely abandoned. Once we got over the frustration of these sneak attack holidays, Jake and I usually found ourselves at a loss as to how to spend a free day when nothing's open. When I was teaching English I often asked my students how they spent holidays like Penance Day. "What do you do," I'd say, "when everything is shut down?" They'd shrug like the question was completely irrelevant and say things like, "sleep" or "eat" or "work in my garden".
I suppose for them passing a day in a sleeping city is no big deal, because in Germany the same thing happens every Sunday. I was surprised to come here and learn that grocery stores close on Sundays, but for me as a Mormon, it didn't change my lifestyle. In our church we are instructed to "keep the Sabbath day holy", and while there is a good deal of personal interpretation allowed for this commandment, some things are specifically discouraged, like working and shopping or conducting business. Coming here from Utah, where one could sit down in the middle of Main Street on a Sunday morning and play a game of solitaire without ever having to pick up the game to dodge a car, wasn't a huge adjustment.
But the holiday thing has been a tough one to wrap my capitalist brain around. I'm used to being able to go bowling on Thanksgiving or to the movies on Christmas. But I wasn't always just on the consumer end, either. I missed the fireworks two Independence Days in a row because I had to work making take-out pizzas for the people who were watching the fireworks. That's the give and take of capitalism, right? So every time one of these obscure holidays pops up, I find myself looking at all the darkened shops and all the strolling people with nothing to do, and I inevitably think, "Doesn't anybody here want to make money?!" And the answer I imagine the country shouting back is still annoying to me, but increasingly sensible: "Not as much as we want a day off!"
Maybe Americans could afford to sacrifice a little convenience and entertainment in order to take an occasional day and just breathe. Of course, that would mean remembering to buy ice before Thanksgiving. And the odds of that happening are pretty slim.
JEM
Showing posts with label My Religion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label My Religion. Show all posts
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Blessed
In the LDS Church, we don't baptize infants. We save that for the "age of accountability", which we believe to be 8. But we do perform a ritual for infants called, simply, the baby blessing, which is performed during Sunday services. It is performed by a priesthood-holder, usually the father or another relative of the baby. He takes the baby before the congregation and, with the aid of several other priesthood-holders who place their hands on the baby in the blesser's arms, pronounces a blessing on the baby. He gives the baby a name and blesses him or her with gifts and promises, following the spiritual promptings he receives.
Where we're from (the Mormon-heavy American West), the baby blessing is usually a pretty big affair. Relatives travel to be there and every priesthood-bearing uncle, cousin, brother, and friend in attendance stands in the circle to bless the baby. It's a nice metaphor, I guess, for the support system the child can expect going into life — being surrounded by all those strong arms and hands. But in our ward here in Dresden, which is the only LDS congregation in a city of about 500,000, baby blessings don't play out like that. The most men I've seen in a circle here is four or five, usually just the father, the grandfathers, and a member of the bishopric. I like this, as well. Compared with the spectacle American baby blessing can sometimes become, this version is very intimate and humble. I especially appreciate this tradition given our situation of being so far from our loved ones. I knew that the small blessing circle Jethro was bound to get here wouldn't look pitiable the way it would in the States.
Not a fan of the blessing tuxedo, apparently.As it played out, though, the blessing wasn't as small as we'd anticipated. We managed to work it so that Jake could bless Jethro while my mom and our friends Ben and Missy were here, and Ben was able to stand in on the blessing, along with two members of our bishopric. Our guests also gave us a good excuse to have the blessing in English, which was probably sort of weird for most of the ward, but meant the world to me. Jake was more nervous than I'd ever seen him before the blessing, but it was beautiful. Among other things, Jake blessed Jethro with sharpened senses, heightened perception, discernment between good and evil, influence over others and a keen intellect balanced by a compassionate heart.
These things have been floating in the back of my mind ever since the blessing. I get so busy cleaning up after, soothing and playing with this little guy, I sometimes find myself thinking of him almost as a pet. I forget that he's an actual, distinct, brand new person. This baby (still making sense of his small body) will eventually grow into a man who will go into the world and do great things. It makes me feel like I'm holding a fantastic secret, that, for the time being, is all mine to enjoy.
JEM
Friday, September 26, 2008
Shindig
Last weekend a bunch of sweet girls from church threw a surprise baby shower for me and another prego gal in the ward (the lovely lady sitting on the floor in the bottom right of the above photo — who, incidentally, had her baby earlier this week, leaving me at the top of the pile as the ward's pregnantest person).
It was really fun.
And a happy coincidence that my sister-in-law Amy was in town from Las Vegas so she was able to attend. And take lots of unflattering pictures of me. (I mentioned this was a surprise, right? I totally would've done my hair had I known what I was walking into. Really.)
Baby food taste test game. I'll never make Junior eat the zucchini flavor.
More games.
Then and now: Me and my baby self.
Chugging Kool-Aid from a baby bottle. Officially more work than it's worth.I'd be lying if I said that I haven't privately experienced a couple of panicky moments in regard to my situation: that of embarking into the completely uncharted waters of pregnancy, childbirth and motherhood thousands of miles from my family, culture and native language. But something I've learned here is that, of the many blessings that being a member of the LDS Church has brought me, one is a knowledge that almost anywhere I go in this world, I will have a family in the nearest LDS congregation. The Dresden Ward has been that for us. They have befriended us, given us opportunities to serve and contribute, and just looked out for us when there wasn't really anyone else to do so. This baby shower was only the most recent in a string of acts of kindness these good people have undertaken to help two anxious foreigners feel a little more at home. And to help one young, expectant mother feel a little more at ease with her current state of affairs.
If any members of the ward happen to be reading this, thank you. You don't know what all this means to us.
JEM
Monday, March 24, 2008
Scientologists Need Not Apply
The contract I recently signed to become an English instructor for a local language school was generally standard fare. "The Agent undertakes to notify (the Principal) immediately in the event of illness or any other circumstances preventing the performance of work," and so forth. It goes about like that until the final clause, which states:
"Hereby the Agent declares that he/she does not sympathize with or support the ideas of L. Ron Hubbard. He/she is not bound by any orders or instructions of an organization promoting Hubbard's technology. He/she does not make use of its contents or methods. He/she does not pass on to a third person any information given to him/her in confidence as a result of this employment. Should this declaration prove not true, it causes an immediate dismissal of this (contract)."
Last December, after more than a decade of closely observing the Church of Scientology, Germany's federal and state interior ministers declared the church to be unconstitutional in a first and unprecedented step to ban the controversial organization.
The interior ministers' report, according to CNN.com, didn't go into much detail or offer anything in the way of specific examples, but did state, "From a number of sources, some of them not available to the public, it has been determined that (the organization) seeks to limit or rescind basic and human rights, such as the right to develop one's personality and the right to be treated equally."
The Church of Scientology, of course, called Germany's move ridiculous and out of step with the rest of the world. In fact, CNN reported that the U.S. State Department in its annual Human Rights report regularly criticized Germany for its close monitoring of the Church of Scientology.
When this was all shaking out several months ago, it made me uncomfortable. Being a Mormon, I tend to sympathize with religions that are unique and largely misunderstood. Not sympathize in the sense that I agree with their beliefs, but sympathize in the sense that I get how painful it is when the thing you love and believe in gets mercilessly shredded in the public forum. And it annoyed me that the German government felt they had the right to restrict any religion. It sounded to me like a dangerous throwback to the days of the GDR when the Stasi kept a close eye on Germans who subscribed to any religion, in particular those associated with the capitalistic West, i.e. Mormons.
The issue upset me enough that I started researching Scientology more in an effort to understand their viewpoint, because I wanted to be able to defend them. The things I learned were — unusual, which I expected. But I felt that as a Mormon, I had little room to criticize anyone for believing in any ideas that could be perceived by outsiders as unorthodox (though I will say that in the out-there category, Mormonism has nothing on Scientology).
This was all before I stumbled upon this article published by Time Magazine in 1991, which blasts the church, not for its doctrines, but rather for its dubious methods of relentlessly milking members for finances and for its scary and sneaky means of shutting down naysayers. Upon reading it, my sympathies cooled significantly and I was able to appreciate Germany's position, even if I still strongly disagree with any government's decision to restrict religion based solely on doctrine.
The final clause in my employment contract represents one of the Church of Scientology's attempts at retaliation against the German government. Since 2006 stories have been popping up about suspicious tutoring schools in Germany, in which tutors, once alone with clients, begin asking personal questions and teaching Scientology rather than the school subjects they were hired to teach. Apparently, since I will be in an unsupervised teacher-pupil relationship, potentially on a one-on-one level, they just want to be sure.
Frankly, I can't say I blame them, but after signing the contract, I'll probably be a little less free about my own affiliations, just in case. You know those Mormons. They can never be trusted.
JEM
"Hereby the Agent declares that he/she does not sympathize with or support the ideas of L. Ron Hubbard. He/she is not bound by any orders or instructions of an organization promoting Hubbard's technology. He/she does not make use of its contents or methods. He/she does not pass on to a third person any information given to him/her in confidence as a result of this employment. Should this declaration prove not true, it causes an immediate dismissal of this (contract)."
Last December, after more than a decade of closely observing the Church of Scientology, Germany's federal and state interior ministers declared the church to be unconstitutional in a first and unprecedented step to ban the controversial organization.
The interior ministers' report, according to CNN.com, didn't go into much detail or offer anything in the way of specific examples, but did state, "From a number of sources, some of them not available to the public, it has been determined that (the organization) seeks to limit or rescind basic and human rights, such as the right to develop one's personality and the right to be treated equally."
The Church of Scientology, of course, called Germany's move ridiculous and out of step with the rest of the world. In fact, CNN reported that the U.S. State Department in its annual Human Rights report regularly criticized Germany for its close monitoring of the Church of Scientology.
When this was all shaking out several months ago, it made me uncomfortable. Being a Mormon, I tend to sympathize with religions that are unique and largely misunderstood. Not sympathize in the sense that I agree with their beliefs, but sympathize in the sense that I get how painful it is when the thing you love and believe in gets mercilessly shredded in the public forum. And it annoyed me that the German government felt they had the right to restrict any religion. It sounded to me like a dangerous throwback to the days of the GDR when the Stasi kept a close eye on Germans who subscribed to any religion, in particular those associated with the capitalistic West, i.e. Mormons.
The issue upset me enough that I started researching Scientology more in an effort to understand their viewpoint, because I wanted to be able to defend them. The things I learned were — unusual, which I expected. But I felt that as a Mormon, I had little room to criticize anyone for believing in any ideas that could be perceived by outsiders as unorthodox (though I will say that in the out-there category, Mormonism has nothing on Scientology).
This was all before I stumbled upon this article published by Time Magazine in 1991, which blasts the church, not for its doctrines, but rather for its dubious methods of relentlessly milking members for finances and for its scary and sneaky means of shutting down naysayers. Upon reading it, my sympathies cooled significantly and I was able to appreciate Germany's position, even if I still strongly disagree with any government's decision to restrict religion based solely on doctrine.
The final clause in my employment contract represents one of the Church of Scientology's attempts at retaliation against the German government. Since 2006 stories have been popping up about suspicious tutoring schools in Germany, in which tutors, once alone with clients, begin asking personal questions and teaching Scientology rather than the school subjects they were hired to teach. Apparently, since I will be in an unsupervised teacher-pupil relationship, potentially on a one-on-one level, they just want to be sure.
Frankly, I can't say I blame them, but after signing the contract, I'll probably be a little less free about my own affiliations, just in case. You know those Mormons. They can never be trusted.
JEM
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Happy Easter
“The fundamental principles of our religion are the testimony of the Apostles and Prophets, concerning Jesus Christ, that He died, was buried, and rose again the third day, and ascended into heaven; and all other things which pertain to our religion are only appendages to it.”
— Joseph Smith
Monday, January 28, 2008
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
They Want Blood
As a Mormon, I believe we are all children of God. That being said, I think the 4-year-olds in my Sunday school class are trying to destroy me.
I got the assignment to help teach this class a few months ago. I was initially paired up with this wonderful young mom in the ward who speaks flawless English. My first lesson went pretty well. Preparing it was more work than I've ever put into any church teaching assignment, and in the end it was way too short, but the kids seemed to be attentive and interested. In retrospect, that probably had more to do with my accent and strange way of speaking than any language-transcending child skills. But I taught several more lessons, and they also went pretty well. My German was improving and the kids were starting to get used to me. They weren't perfect. But my teaching partner was always there to wrestle and subdue and chastise when necessary.
But at the beginning of the year, things got shuffled. My partner stayed with the 3-year-olds-turning-4 class, and I moved up with the kids we'd been teaching to the 4-year-olds-turning-5 class. The first Sunday a woman from the Primary presidency came to my class to sit in and help keep the kids in check. They were a bit crazier than normal, but it was tolerable. And I think by the end of class they could tell you that WdR stands for "Wähl das Rechte" ("Choose the Right"), so I consider that a success.
But last Sunday I was alone. In a small room with five children I don't understand 85 percent of the time. And for 45 minutes anarchy reigned. Even the mild-mannered kids were going nuts. And the already nuts kids were going completely postal. Kids were screaming and climbing tables and running through the halls. They were crumpling up the drawings I'd worked on all night to illustrate a story. The most quiet the kids got (when they were all in the room at the same time) was when one girl tripped and smacked her head on a table. While she cried it out and I held her, everyone else watched and said nothing. It was amazing. But it only lasted about 30 seconds. In the end, I think the kids could tell you that I tried to tell some story that involved birds and then we sang a song while one girl angrily and repeatedly hit my songbook.
The reason I share this is because next week I'll be alone again and I am pleading with you, people of the Internets, in all your wisdom, to share any tips you might have on wrangling rabid badgers, I mean 4-year-olds. Keep in mind that verbally reasoning with them is out of the question in my case. I can stay "Stop it", "Listen", "Be quiet", and "Sit down", but I can't be expected to be able to choke out much more than that in German come gametime when the adrenaline is really flowing. Whatever I do will have to be very straightforward and action-oriented. I'm thinking reiterate the rules and figure out some kind of reward system for the kids who are good.
With your help, and God willing, I will live to fight another day.
JEM
I got the assignment to help teach this class a few months ago. I was initially paired up with this wonderful young mom in the ward who speaks flawless English. My first lesson went pretty well. Preparing it was more work than I've ever put into any church teaching assignment, and in the end it was way too short, but the kids seemed to be attentive and interested. In retrospect, that probably had more to do with my accent and strange way of speaking than any language-transcending child skills. But I taught several more lessons, and they also went pretty well. My German was improving and the kids were starting to get used to me. They weren't perfect. But my teaching partner was always there to wrestle and subdue and chastise when necessary.
But at the beginning of the year, things got shuffled. My partner stayed with the 3-year-olds-turning-4 class, and I moved up with the kids we'd been teaching to the 4-year-olds-turning-5 class. The first Sunday a woman from the Primary presidency came to my class to sit in and help keep the kids in check. They were a bit crazier than normal, but it was tolerable. And I think by the end of class they could tell you that WdR stands for "Wähl das Rechte" ("Choose the Right"), so I consider that a success.
But last Sunday I was alone. In a small room with five children I don't understand 85 percent of the time. And for 45 minutes anarchy reigned. Even the mild-mannered kids were going nuts. And the already nuts kids were going completely postal. Kids were screaming and climbing tables and running through the halls. They were crumpling up the drawings I'd worked on all night to illustrate a story. The most quiet the kids got (when they were all in the room at the same time) was when one girl tripped and smacked her head on a table. While she cried it out and I held her, everyone else watched and said nothing. It was amazing. But it only lasted about 30 seconds. In the end, I think the kids could tell you that I tried to tell some story that involved birds and then we sang a song while one girl angrily and repeatedly hit my songbook.
The reason I share this is because next week I'll be alone again and I am pleading with you, people of the Internets, in all your wisdom, to share any tips you might have on wrangling rabid badgers, I mean 4-year-olds. Keep in mind that verbally reasoning with them is out of the question in my case. I can stay "Stop it", "Listen", "Be quiet", and "Sit down", but I can't be expected to be able to choke out much more than that in German come gametime when the adrenaline is really flowing. Whatever I do will have to be very straightforward and action-oriented. I'm thinking reiterate the rules and figure out some kind of reward system for the kids who are good.
With your help, and God willing, I will live to fight another day.
JEM
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