On strike

Hannover is going on strike.
Last Wednesday, Hannover city employees went on strike. There was no public transit for the day, and public kindergartens, libraries, swimming pools were closed, and no one came to pick up the trash. Everyone's back to work, but it's not over yet. As negotiations continue, the city employees' union is not backing off. They are demanding higher wages and more vacation time (guaranteed 30 paid vacation days per year). Since no agreement has been reached, they are planning a two day strike for this week.
If you want to get anywhere in town on Tuesday or Wednesday, you'd better have your own wheels.

For a not-so-big city, Hannover has a powerful transit system. There are 12 tram lines and 40 bus lines, moving 125 million passengers per year. That makes Hannover transit busier than the San Francisco BART or the Amsterdam Metro, and roughly equal in ridership to the Kyoto subway system. Not bad for Germany's 12th largest city. When the trains and buses stop moving, it throws our usually orderly town into chaos.

It's not only the Hannover employees who are pushing a for better contract. Teachers on both sides of the ocean are also standing up for their rights.

Back in Saint Paul, the state's largest teachers' union narrowly avoided a strike in February, after nine months of negotiation and an overnight session with a state mediator. The St. Paul Federation of Teachers fought for smaller class sizes, an increase in teachers' salaries, and keeping jobs for school librarians, nurses and counselors. They finally reached an agreement with the district, negotiating an 8% pay increase and a maximum class size of 27 for grades 1-3 and 37 for high schoolers.

At the International School Hannover Region, where classes average around 18 students, teachers and staff are defending their right to have milk. There was an employee outcry recently, as the management decided it would no longer purchase milk for staff to put in their coffee. Reasons included the cost of the milk and the fact that sometimes nobody puts it back in the refrigerator. Offering milk was, therefore, wasteful and unhygenic. Instead, the school would replace it with non-dairy creamer powder. And if financial and hygienic difficulties continue, the school might even stop buying the coffee. This announcement brought on immediate protest from the staff.

They complained to the Betriebsrat, which is the workers' council. Most German workplaces have one; it's a board of employees representative who negotiate with management. They defend employee rights in the event of disciplinary action, hiring, contract disputes or milk deprivation.

The Betriebsrat stood up to management, pointing out the importance of real milk to the school working conditions. After deliberations, a decision was reached. The school will continue to buy milk until the end of the school year, on a probationary basis. Staff must keep the milk in the fridge, use it only for coffee and tea and not for their cereal etc, and they should not open any new cartons of milk when one is already in use. If conditions improve, there will be no need for non-dairy creamer. The labor crisis has been averted for now.

Don't put those picket signs down yet. The milk is back only on a trial basis. It's important that we, as fellow laborers, stand up for the rights of the city employees who have even more serious workplace issues. But that probably won't happen on Tuesday or Wednesday. There trams won't be running, so we might as well call in sick.

Cosmic Legos

Do you believe in coincidence? I do, but I also believe that God gets a little bored sometimes and decides to move time and space around to entertain himself, like cosmic Lego pieces.

This sort of low-level philosophy is not my strength, but let me explain:

On Saturday we were out in Hannover with our friends Tom and Sonja who had come to visit from Hamburg, along with their baby Fiona. Despite rainy, windy weather, we still wanted to wander through Hannover's antiques flea market. That lasted about ten minutes. Then we decided to seek shelter and have lunch somewhere. Of all the restaurants in central Hannover, we chose Shalimar, an Indian place owned by the parents of one of Brian's students. Please do not tell the guy who owns the Indian restaurant across the street from our apartment that we cheated on him.

Fiona likes to eat naan.

Of all the people who could be having lunch at Shalimar, there were three African-American men  and a German white guy sitting by the window. It took about five minutes for Brian to recognize one of their voices as that of Anthony Pinn, a professor who taught at Macalester College when we were there. As they finished their meal, Brian went over and introduced himself as a former student of Dr. Pinn's. Brian's hunch was correct; a college professor he had taken a class from in Saint Paul in 1999 was sitting near us in an Indian restaurant in Hannover, Germany in 2014.

Not only that, but also seated at the table was Cornel West, an intellectual celebrity, author and activist. He is one of the leading scholars in African-American studies and he's a pretty big deal. Dr. Pinn, Dr. West, and the other two professors insisted that Brian sit and join them for an espresso. Brian does not drink espresso, or coffee of any kind, but he drank it with them. He found out that they were all in town for a philosophy conference, where Cornel West was the key note speaker. They came over to say hello to Tom, Sonja and me, and Cornel West made grandfatherly goo-goo noises at little Fiona.

Cornel West

Brian found out in their conversation that Dr. Pinn, now working at Rice University, comes to Hannover twice a year to work with the German Philosophy Guy (that's probably not his actual title). Maybe next time he's in town we'll take Dr. Pinn to the Indian restaurant across the street. He could probably help me improve my blog-post-philosophy.

So how is that for a coincidence? Or maybe not a coincidence so much as The Big Guy shuffling those Lego pieces around a little, to keep us on our toes and remind us just how small the world can really be.

Walking with sticks

Imagine this:
You are going for a nice jog in the woods. Sun is shining, birds are singing, and then you hear a very distinctive noise: klop, scrape, klop, scrape, klop, klop.
Is it a rabbit with his foot stuck in a bucket?
A peg-legged pirate who's lost his way?

No, it's just people walking with sticks. Nordic walking is popular here in Germany and it's very common to see people walking for exercise with something that looks like a ski pole in each hand.

The idea behind Nordic walking is that it gives you an upper body workout as you walk, keeping your posture straight and burning a few extra arm calories. I support this idea. I think it's great to work on those calories jiggling about in your arms. I just think that walking with sticks looks silly. Nordic walkers look like they took a wrong turn on the way to the ski resort. Of course, I wear brightly colored spandex shorts, shiny sunglasses and a helmet while riding my bike through farmland. That must look silly too (or maybe it's just awesome).

There is a Nordic walking school in Hannover, where, I presume, you learn how to walk properly with sticks. According to the school's website, Nordic walking helps build core strength and improve the mobility in the joints. It might also be helpful if you want to whack a passing jogger.

Watch out, joggers

Where I come from, there's no reason to carry a pole unless you are skiing. You could carry a wooden walking stick if you are unsteady on your feet, or if you're hiking up a mountain in order to yodel from the top (who are we kidding? There are no mountains where I'm from).

So if you hear that tell-tale sound of klop, scrape, klop, remember that you will probably not find any wayward pirates in the area. If you do, you can be sure they are doing wonders for their joints.

Fasching

Happy Fasching. No, not Fascism, Fasching. It's carnaval in Brazil, Mardi Gras in New Orleans, and here in Germany we celebrate Fasching, also called Karneval.

In Catholic areas like Cologne, Dusseldorf, and Munich, Fasching is a big deal. Schools and businesses close Monday and Tuesday before Lent as everyone dresses up in silly costumes and gets drunk. Happy Fasching.

Here in the heartland of the Protestant North, we don't do much. On Sunday there was a parade of some kind, with kids and adults dressed in costumes. I ran into the after-party.

The Fasching season actually begins in November. On 11.11, at 11:11am. This is when the council of Karneval leaders meets and plans out the next season's events. The festivities begin on the Thursday before Lent, which is known as 'women's Mardi Gras'. Traditionally, women can kiss any man they like on this day and can also cut off his tie. Then comes Rosenmontag, rose Monday. This is the main day of parades and partying. Tuesday is Fastnacht, when there are more parties and costume balls. It's also when they burn the Nubbel. In a particularly weird tradition, a straw doll called a Nubbel hangs above the doors of various bars during Karneval time. He takes on everyone's sins as a sort of scarecrow scapegoat. Just before midnight on Mardi Gras Tuesday, the Nubbel is lit on fire and the sins vanish. What happens in Köln stays in Köln, I guess.

These traditions vary from one area to the next. And while Fasching celebrations in Hannover are modest, there is one special thing that happens here. People dunk their wallets in the lake. On Ash Wednesday, there's a ceremonial gathering at the Maschsee, the big lake in town, where people take their purses and wallets and rinse them out in the water. If you have spent all your money on beer and costume accessories during Fasching, then your wallet's already empty. Washing it out means that new money will flow into your wallet in the coming year. It might also mean that muddy sludge from the lake or a massive fish will flow into your wallet immediately.

You may remember them from my last triathlon...

 So don your red clown nose and have a happy Fasching, everyone. If you are in Hannover, you might be the only one who's dressed up. However, you may not be the only one with a soggy wallet.

Canine conspiracy?

There's something strange about dogs in Germany. They don't bark, they don't bite, they don't chase cars or joggers or mailmen down the street. Just like their German owners, they hardly acknowledge strangers at all. There's a dog that lives next door to us, a big gray shaggy dog. If I hadn't seen him I'd never know he was there - I think I have heard him bark twice.

It's also pretty common to see dogs walking around off-leash. This is not a problem because I believe that your average German dog could walk past a crowd of squirrels, a pile of meat, and a group of kids throwing a tennis ball without even looking up.

Roaming free

Dog owners in Germany are supposed to register their hunds and pay a dog tax. The tax covers... well I am not sure what it covers. I guess the possibility that you will not clean up your dog's poop and the city will have to pay someone else to do so. In Hannover, the tax is 132 euros per year.

There's also a test for owners. A law took effect a year ago in our state of Niedersachsen, requiring dog owners to get a license - called a Hundführerschein, which translates as dog drivers' license.  In order to legally drive their dogs, owners must pass a written test demonstrating their knowlege about dogs' needs and owners' responsibilities. Then there is a 'practical exam' where you take the dog for a spin and show the state examiner that your pooch is well trained. I assume that if it barks at the mailman, you fail. The test costs around 100 euros, which is a lot cheaper than the roughly 2000 euros you have to pay to get a drivers' license for a car. I guess the lesson is that it's cheaper to drive your dog.

Taking the dogs for a drive

And you need insurance for your dog too. Dog liability insurance has you covered in case your dog attacks someone or causes property damage. Of course, all this assumes that you have registered your dog with the proper authorities and put a tracking microchip in its ear.  But if you are German, you're probably have because you follow the rules anyway.

Planning a canine takeover?

I know that cats usually take credit for being the crafty, cunning pets. But I can't help but think that German dogs are just too docile. They must be plotting some kind of conspiracy behind those obedient stares. (you've seen 101 Dalmatians - you know it's possible). Maybe they're going to overthrow Angela Merkel and the Bundestag to take over Germany. Maybe they going to go crazy and chase people all over the streets of Hannover, howling and barking and biting along the way. Maybe they've been gathering a stockpile of bones and tennis balls and are just waiting for the right off-leash moment to dig in. The license and insurance and tax just make the humans feel like they have control. They'd better be careful driving those dogs around.