Christmas in Leipzig

This little piece of German Christmas adorableness is brought to you courtesy the generous family from Leipzig that invited us to spend Christmas with them this year. This little pup is their youngest and spent three days alternately hating and tolerating me and mostly adoring Jake. But I never stopped loving her with her constant singing of "O Tannenbaum".

Just for reference Jake knew this family from the mission he served here for the LDS Church about eight years ago. When Jake and I came to Germany for a visit about four years ago, this family put us up for a few days and we had a great time with them. The instant they found out we were living in Germany, they invited us to spend Christmas with them. Bless their beautiful hides. They have three kids, including the little songstress above, who is 3 years old. They also have a daughter who is 8 and a son who is 7. Here are the two older kids tearing it up at Twister:


Leipzig, their stomping ground, is about an hour or so by train from Dresden. The city is roughly the same size as Dresden and home to many wonderful things, among them the world's largest goth convention, which I hope to bring my readers to this spring. We'll probably go on a fieldtrip Leipzig someday, but not today, because we actually spent almost all of our time there this time around napping, eating and going for walks. These activities combined, it is important to note, are basically Germany's national pastime. This is exactly how they spend every holiday. And at Christmas that means three days straight. Here's the crew on Christmas Eve eating wienies and potato salad (plus Grandma and Grandpa and an uncle):



Things I learned this year about German Christmas:

1. While the Weihnachtsfest (Christmas Festival) lasts three days, Dec. 24, 25 and 26, everything really happens on the evening of the 24th, what they call Heilige Abend (Holy Evening). They have dinner and then the Weihnachtsmann (Santa, but literally translated it means "Christmas Man") stops by and delivers the presents personally.

2. When the Weihnachtsmann comes kids have to do something for him to get their presents, usually either sing a song or recite a poem. That's what's happening in this video. He also has a rather direct talk with each of the kids about things they've done well in the last year and the things they haven't done so well. They have to promise to do better in the coming year.

Interesting occurrences:

1. We thought one of the family's pet fishies was acting weird and we thought it was trying to lay some eggs. Turns out it was just dying.

2. We went to a church choir concert and they sang the German translation of a song from "Home Alone", which delighted me to no end.


3. After all the presents were opened and it was revealed that the boy got a light saber, Grandpa emerged with his accordion playing the STAR WARS THEME SONG. On the accordion. It was breathtaking.


4. Jake and I slept in the sauna room in the basement, which led to the following story containing nudity.


Here is a really lame photo of the sauna room with our stuff strewn everywhere. That's the entrance to the sauna there on the right. I wouldn't post this picture except that it's necessary to understand this story.

One thing about Germans is that they're really into saunas. From what I understand, not as much as the Finns, but a heck of a lot more than Americans. (I, personally, don't really get it. I mean I guess it's kind of fun to sit in a really hot shed — but, c'mon. For reals. ) Anyway, something that comes with a love for saunas is a permissiveness for nudity, which is evident here by the shower that's just standing there in the middle of the room.

So, one morning I showered in this uncomfortably vulnerable arrangement (which also has ambient lighting and a radio, but that is not important). Jake was in the room rummaging through his luggage and I was happily washing my hair when the door to the room opened. It was the family's 7-year-old son just stopping by a visit. And allow me to stress here that I am standing buck naked for all to see, protected only by a thin layer of steam on the windows. Rather than doing what I would assume to be the instinctive thing for a boy at that age — quickly close the door and run away in humiliation — the kid COMES IN and takes a seat on my sleeping bag. At this moment I experienced a sensation that I have only previously felt in painful dreams: that of standing naked in front of an audience and there is nothing I can do to hide my nudity without making matters significantly worse. So I just did the only thing I could do and proceeded with my shower while Jake basically wrestled the kid out of the room.

I keep telling myself that Germans are much more comfortable with nudity than we are and that the whole ordeal was no big deal to the kid. But I can't seem to shake the feeling that he had ulterior motives all along.

And with that I conclude the needlessly delayed account of my first German Christmas.

Love,



JEM

FIELDTRIP! Postscript

So, remember when we went to the Striezelmarkt and made a sidetrip to the Altstadt Christmas market in the courtyard of the castle? Remember how fun that was with the roasting pig and the suits of armor and the drunk people in the bathtub? Yeah, well, it BURNED TO THE GROUND. On Dec. 17, sometime in the early morning apparently, the place caught on fire and it took down the whole market. Judging from the pictures in the newspaper the castle is mostly OK, just some smoke damage, and fortunately it sounds like no one was hurt. But all the booths and all the stuff — gone. But don't be too sad. I'm sure it'll be back next year complete with all the burning, hanging oil lanterns, open pit fires, and confined spaces. I can't wait!

Merry Stollen Day! I mean Christmas!

Christmas greetings, everybody! Wouldn't you like to have a piece of Stollen? Well you can't have any because they only make it here. OK, Wikipedia tells me that's a lie. You can get it all over the world. But I never heard of it before and I'm betting you haven't either. So let's pretend like I'm right, OK?

Stollen, as we've briefly discussed before, is a traditional German Christmastime fruitcake. It's a bready cake that contains raisins, almonds, and little bits of dried and candied citrus peel (pronounced "pill" by my Utah readership). Wikipedia also tells me the dough is spiced with cardamom and cinnamon and is surprisingly low in sugar. Which I'm not sure I believe because my pupils dilate when I eat it. Oh yeah, that's probably due to the fact that it is coated with an inch of powdered sugar after baking. That part is not surprisingly high in sugar. Stollens are also very dense. One Stollen weighs about as much as a cinderblock. At least that's what it felt like in my backpack on a recent Stollen-purchasing outing.

OBLIGATORY HISTORY LESSON: Stollen has been dilating pupils since about 1450 when it was invented by industrious Dresdners trying to find a Christmastime use for all of their most expensive and highly prized ingredients, especially the citrus peel. While it's now made all over Germany (and allegedly the world) they say the most authentic stuff comes from Dresden. You know it's "authentic" because they put a gold sticker on it that says "Originale Dresdner Christstollen".

But here's an insider tip. (Don't tell anyone that I told you this or "they" will likely have me killed.) The best Stollen I've had all month — and believe me, I've had a lot, just ask my blossoming lovehandles — did not come from Dresden. It came from Annaberg-Buchholz, a tiny Christmas-loving town a couple of hours from here that we visited recently. The Stollen pictured here is an Annaberger. I can't remember the reasons for the slight difference. Something about Dresdners using lard and Annabergers using butter or something. I can't remember exactly. But the Annaberg version is softer, cakier, a little bit sweeter and, honest-to-goodness, better. So, do with that information what you will.

Also important to note, diehards apparently consider it a sin to eat Stollen before Christmas. So I'd better go eat a lot today to make up for my countless sins. (That's how it works, right?)

Anyway, I hope you're all having a wonderful Christmas! Alles gute from us both. (Cue obligatory holiday photo ...)




JEM

P.S. Stay tuned for a full account of our Christmas in Leipzig. WARNING: At least one story will contain nudity.

Space Warp

For the most part I think I'm getting used to life here. I'm getting used to the fact that I can't buy eyedrops and asprin at the same store as milk and bread. I no longer instinctively look for my red Mercury Tracer — currently being driven by my brother in Rexburg, Idaho — in parking lots when I leave a store. Speaking of cars, I no longer giggle at tiny Smart cars and am now shocked whenever (if ever) I see a pickup truck or SUV. I feel at ease with public transit and I'm comfortable with my new routines.

But I don't think this place will ever completely stop feeling foreign to me. Which is OK. It's good for me to live in an environment that's somehow, ever-so-slightly off from all my internal programming. It's humbling and exciting and sometimes frustrating, but it's good. I'm certain however, that it will always feel weird. Like if the Earth experienced a slight but abrupt change in the gravitational pull. Everyone would be tripping and running into things at first. Then they'd get used to it and be able to get around, but it would never feel quite right.

I realized this today when Jake and I went to a big hardware store called Hornbach a couple of bus stops from home that we'd never been to before. Although it was a big boxy store with a good-sized parking lot, it still had a distinctly German feel from the exterior. Something about the color scheme or the arrangement of things. It's hard to pin down. Weird gravitational pull. But when we went inside it looked, to the T, like any American Home Depot store. The layout of the aisles and cash registers, the orange signs and price tags, the fonts on those signs and price tags, the lighting, the displays, the arrangements, the dimensions, the smell, everything felt like we were standing in the Home Depot in our last town in the States. The Earth's gravitational pull was exactly what we were used to. Possibly for the first time since getting here we felt entirely at home, familiar, and comfortable in a public place. We walked through the front sliding doors and just stood there, silent and slack-jawed. It was like walking through some sort of space warp and suddenly we were back in America. We both almost started to cry. Seriously. Next to the cash registers in a hardware store.

I hadn't realized I hadn't felt that way in so long until I felt it again. Now we have a place we can visit whenever our equilibrium feels off. Funny the things that can trigger homesickness over here.



JEM

FIELDTRIP! to the Striezelmarkt

Frohe Weihnachten, Freunde! Merry Christmas, friends! Prepare to be overwhelmed with alcohol-induced jolliness and a craving for fruitcake because today we visit the Striezelmarkt, Dresden's world famous annual Christmas market.

You will notice from the above sign that this year is the 573rd annual incarnation of the Striezelmarkt. Yes, you read that right. The first recorded instance of the Striezelmarkt was in 1434, about 60 years before Columbus sailed the ocean blue and well over 300 years before the signing of the Declaration of Independence. I know I've mentioned this before, but I cannot get over how old stuff is over here. We Amerikaners have no concept of old.

The monthlong Striezelmarkt is among the largest in Germany, which is to say it's among the largest in the world. It's been estimated to receive 2 million visitors a year.


The market gets its name from the original name of Dresden's equally famous Christmas fruitcake, now called Stollen but formerly called Striezel. I'd tell you all about it, but honestly it's such a huge part of Christmas tradition here, it warrants its own entry. So we'll talk about it more later. Suffice it to say, it's really tasty. Tastier than any fruitcake you've likely ever encountered, which probably means very little to you. But trust me, you'll love it.

Not surprisingly you will find mountains of Stollen at the Striezelmarkt.


Other wonderful things you will find at the Striezelmarkt are ...


... gorgeous German-made, light-up paper star decorations (you see these hanging in every other window here this time of year and I adore them) ...


... and all manner of wooden things.


Germany, and specifically this corner of Germany, is the world capital of cute Christmas wooden things. Namely, nutcrackers, Schwibbogen (arch-shaped candle holders displayed in windows during the Christmas season), candle pyramids (we'll see a giant example later), and ...


... Räuchermänner! Aren't these guys adorable? They are little incense burners. They melt my insides.

You will also find lots of weird stuff, like these sporty fur hats and opium-scented candles. I didn't even know opium had a scent.

As you wander the market, you may find yourself itching for a festive drink. Never fear! You have many options, including hot chocolate, eggnog, coffee, and GROG. Yes, apparently people actually drink grog. I thought it only existed in Middle Earth and that it was drunk primarily by trolls. I'm learning so much here!

Another German-specific drink on this list is Glühwein, a mulled red wine served hot in mugs with cloves and cinnamon. It looks pretty tasty and makes me wish for, like, half a second that I drank alcohol.

While you're getting smashed on grog and hot wine, give the kids something that will make them feel like they are, too: a train ride through Christmastown-on-LSD!


And what German Christmas market would be complete without a gigantic Pyramide? None! That's what!


This is a monstrous, electric version of the candle pyramid I was talking about earlier. You put little candles in the base and the heat from the flames rise and push the propeller on top, which turns the platforms on the inside of the pyramid, creating this mini, slowly spinning parade of wooden characters. They are a German Christmas decor staple.

But although the Striezelmarkt is certainly the biggest and most well known Christmas market in Dresden, it is not the only Christmas market and it is not, according to the reporters here at American Dresdner, the coolest market. That title goes to the Altstadt market, which Jake and I wandered to after visiting the Striezelmarkt.


This intimate little occasion is located in the courtyard of King Augustus' palace and feels like wandering medieval Dresden. Everyone working there was dressed in medieval garb and among the handmade items for sale was a full suit of armor. The lantern-lit booths offered handmade wares ranging from baskets and hand-spun, hand-dyed yarn to steel viking helmets.


And, in case you get hungry here, there's plenty of meat on spits. Including this pig.


But I think the most noteworthy thing we saw at this market was a little band of possibly quite inebriated older Germans in a steaming wooden bathtub wearing nothing but Santa hats and smiles. They had a sign requesting 1 Euro per look and had collected quite a crowd of whooping and hollering onlookers. We tried to get a picture of one gentleman getting out of the tub (thankfully covering his front with a towel), but we were laughing so hard that the photo unfortunately didn't turn out. But the image of his wet, rumply butt will live in our memories forever, and judging by the screams and cheers of the crowd, we're not alone.

And on that note, I wish you all and all of yours a lovely Christmas season from Dresden. May it be free of drunk, wet, rumply German butts. Unless you're into that sort of thing.





JEM

The View from the Top

I just realized that I haven't formally introduced all of you to the most fabulous aspect of living on the sixth floor of a Plattenbau: the View. And thanks to some rather tumultuous skies of late, I've been able to land a couple of pictures that I think come close to doing it justice.

First, this is our rear view. This is what we can see from our living room and kitchen. You will notice the infamous soup factory in the foreground and the lovely gigantic-chimney-slash-cell-phone-tower. Usually this view is pretty unpleasant. But in the right light, it seems to take on a cool feel. I like the bird on the top edge who managed to get in on the action.


But here, my friends, is the crown jewel. This is the view from our massive bedroom windows. You will notice THE ENTIRE CITY OF DRESDEN. When we looked at this place for the first time, it smelled like asparagus (in retrospect, that probably was related somehow to the soup factory), was coated with dust, and had all the charm of storage unit. And then we looked out the window. And we took it immediately. We have not regretted the decision.


Not bad, eh?



JEM

P.S. I've got our next FIELDTRIP! on the stove. We'll be going to Dresden's world-famous Christmas market, the Striezelmarkt. And a good time WILL be had by all or I will happily refund your money.

Yes, Boss, I Am Disease Free!

I think one of the strangest things about living in a foreign country that I completely took for granted are the different laws. You assume, you know, that we're all western, capitalistic democracies, so we probably have pretty much the same rules. Not true. Here is today's example.

Yesterday I applied for an English teaching job at a local language school, and on the application I was asked for a photograph of myself, if I had any infectious diseases, if I had any "financial problems", and if I was "handicapped". Exact word. I'm actually surprised they didn't ask for my religion, sexual orientation, or political affiliation.

To quote Jake: "If they did that in America they would have no pants. Because they would have been sued off."

But we're not in America. We're in Germany. And practices like this are 100 percent legit here. Not only are they legal, they're standard procedure. So I don't blame this company. But I am counting my lucky stars that I'm young, healthy, and not especially unattractive.

And Germans are always whining about the high unemployment here. Hmmm.



JEM