Feliz Navidad

Dear readers,

I am traveling for a little while and will be away from the internet.
I hope you enjoy a joyful, peaceful Christmas and a happy new year. I'll be back in January.

Back on the bus, to the List

It's been a long time since I drove the hop on hop off bus around Hannover. But we are hopping back on it again, this time to the List. The List is a neighborhood where you need to live if you are a yuppie in Hannover. I know that term is a little outdated, but if you are between 25 and 50, shop at the organic grocery store, wear expensive shoes, drink cappuccino, have small children who also drink cappuccino, and don't want to move to the suburbs, the List is the place for you.

At the heart of the neighborhood is the Lister Meile. Meile is a Germanicized way to say mile. I still think this is a weird name, since as far as I know, Germany uses the metric system. Maybe "Lister Kilometer and a half" just didn't have the same ring to it. It's a pedestrian street lined with shops and cafes.

Lister Meile and Lister Platz

 

When you stroll down the Lister Meile, it's key to put your child in a 4 wheel drive stroller. The word stroller doesn't really do it justice. In German, it's a Kinderwagen. And calling it a wagon is a better fit. These things have tires that can handle off-road baby mountaineering. They laugh at cobblestones. They have shock absorbers, and probably exhaust pipes too. German families don't have to save up money for a college education, so they invest it all in the Kinderwagen.




The List is probably the prettiest section of Hannover. It has more historic buildings than any other area of the city I've seen, and much less 1960s-era architecture. These houses seem to have escaped the worst of the World War II bombings.

A few notable sights in the List are the Lister Turm,

The Bahlsen cookie headquarters, with this golden cookie sign that the famous cookie monster thief stole two years ago,

and the police stables at Welfenplatz.

If you want to go to an expensive boutique, or sit at a cafe, or buy your kid a cappuccino by the playground, the List is the place to be.   

Knecht Ruprecht

Last year, I told you all about Krampus, the German-speaking world's Bad Santa.
There's another Christmas-time character you should know about: Knecht Ruprecht. While Krampus is a Bavarian figure, Knecht Ruprecht is at home here in northern Germany.

He travels along with Santa, the Weihnachtsmann, and wears tattered brown robes. He's sort of wild woodsman, someone you wouldn't want to run into in a dark chimney. He carries bags full of ashes and coal for the naughty kids, and a stick to beat them with. If you are on the naughty list this year, watch out.

It sounds to me like his legend has been softened over the years. He also carries a bag of candies and nuts for the good kids ("Walnuts? again? but I really wanted an iphone this year!"). His job is to drive the sleigh, help Santa, feed the reindeer etc.

Knecht Ruprecht is the subject of a famous poem by Theodor Strom. I wish my German was good enough to translate it myself, but it's not. So here is a version I found on the internet:

Von drauß' vom Wald komm ich her;	From out the forest I now appear,
ich muss euch sagen, es weihnachtet sehr!	To proclaim that Christmastide is here!
Allüberall auf den Tannenspitzen	For at the top of every tree
sah ich goldene Lichtlein sitzen;	are golden lights for all to see;
und droben aus dem Himmelstor	and there from Heaven’s gate on high
sah mit großen Augen das Christkind hervor.	I saw our Christ-child in the sky.
Und wie ich so strolcht' durch den finstern Tann,	And in among the darkened trees,
da rief's mich mit heller Stimme an:	a loud voice it was that called to me:
"Knecht Ruprecht", rief es, "alter Gesell,	‘Knecht Ruprecht, old fellow,’ it cried,
hebe die Beine und spute dich schnell!	‘hurry now, make haste, don’t hide!
Die Kerzen fangen zu brennen an,	All the candles have now been lit --
das Himmelstor ist aufgetan.	Heaven’s gate has opened wide!
Alt' und Junge sollen nun	Both young and old should now have rest
von der Jagd des Lebens einmal ruhn;	away from cares and daily stress;
und morgen flieg ich hinab zur Erden;	and when tomorrow to earth I fly
denn es soll wieder Weihnachten werden!"	“it’s Christmas again!” will be the cry.’
Ich sprach: "O lieber Herre Christ,	And then I said: ‘O Lord so dear.
meine Reise fast zu Ende ist;	My journey’s end is now quite near;
ich soll nur noch in diese Stadt,	but to this town* I’ve still to go,
wo's eitel gute Kinder hat."	Where the children are good, I know.’
“Hast denn das Säcklein auch bei dir?"	‘But have you then that great sack?’
Ich sprach: "Das Säcklein, das ist hier:	‘I have,’ I said, ‘it’s on my back.
Denn Äpfel, Nuss und Mandelkern	For apples, almonds, fruit and nuts
essen fromme Kinder gern."	For God-fearing children are a must.’
"Hast denn die Rute auch bei dir?"	‘And is that cane there by your side?’
Ich sprach: "Die Rute, die ist hier;	‘The cane’s there too,’ I did reply;
doch für die Kinder nur, die schlechten,	but only for those, those naughty ones,
die trifft sie auf den Teil, den rechten.’	who have it applied to their backsides.’
Christkindlein sprach: "So ist es recht!	The Christ-child spoke: ‘Then that’s all right!
So geh mit Gott, mein treuer Knecht!"	My loyal servant, go with God this night!’
Von drauß' vom Walde komm ich her;	From out the forest I now appear;
ich muss euch sagen, es weihnachtet sehr!	To proclaim that Christmastide is here!
Nun sprecht, wie ich's hier drinnen find!	Now speak, what is there here to be had?
Sind's gute Kind sind's böse Kind?	Are there good children, are there bad?

I hope you have been good this year. If so, you can look forward to a lot of walnuts, and not getting beaten with a stick.

Islamophobia in Germany

There was a big demonstration on Monday in Dresden.

What do people have to protest about in Germany? Unemployment is relatively low, standards of living are high, working conditions are great, there's no gun violence and not much crime, the government is not corrupt; things are good here. Which is precisely why certain groups are protesting. They like the way things are and don't want "those people" to come and change them.

"Those people" are Muslim immigrants, and certain groups don't want them coming to take jobs, receive government benefits, and turn Germany into an Islamic state . The 15,000 Dresden marchers were led by a group called Pegida, translated as: Patriotic Europeans Against the Islamization of the West. They want Germany to allow fewer immigrants and asylees. If those immigrants are coming from Greece or Spain, it's ok. But if they come from Iran or Turkey or Syria, that's another story.

The scary thing about Pegida is that they are not skinheads, or Hell's Angels, or part of any heavily tattooed subculture. They are ostensibly normal people. Politician Thomas Oppermann called the group "Nazis in pinstripes." And the whole movement was organized on Facebook.
Germany's history with intolerance, racism and the far right makes it all the more scary.

Pegida in Dresden

There was a similar march in Hannover in November. It was a demonstration against Salafism, which is a sect within Islam. In a twist of sports turned politics, the group leading the march emerged from rival clubs of hooligans, which are soccer super-fans. These people not only love their soccer teams, but they hate a lot of people who are different than them. Among the hooligans are right-wing extremists and neo-Nazis.  The same group had protested in Cologne the week before, and that event turned violent. So Hannover was on guard. About 3000 protesters showed up, as did 6000 counter-protesters. There were 6600 police officers present, some in riot gear and some on horses.

Lots of police turned out for the Hannover demonstration

This is Islamophobia, and I think it's ridiculous.
Germans, even the most bigoted ones, have nothing to worry about. At this time of year, cashiers wish customers a happy Advent Sunday, Christmas trees and lights and candies are everywhere, and politically correct phrases like "season's greetings" barely exist. Germany is not at risk of being Islamicized at all.

I would guess that the Pegida demonstrators, in pinstripes or not, mostly have jobs, and all have a place to live and basic rights and enough food to eat. They may have gotten hungry on the way back from that march in Dresden. I wouldn't be surprised if some Pegida demonstrators stopped at the kebab shop for a Doner sandwich, that staple of Turkish-German fast food, on their way home.

I am back in blog action, after a week or two off. And I am planning a holiday-esque binge of writing over the next few days. So expect a steady stream of posts along with your egg nog and cookies. I'll even space them out so you can keep reading while I am on vacation and offline.

Losing veins, keeping kidneys

This week I've been dealing with veins. Sorry, this is a little gross. I am not old (by most people's standards) nor am I obese (that's pretty much for sure) and I don't smoke. But somehow the veins in my legs were big and blue and angry. They needed to come out.

So that brought me into a new experience with the German health care system (don't worry, there will be no photos in this post).

When I first went to the doctor, it was clear that he wasn't too confident in his English. He did seem very confident in my German, however, so we rolled with it and I did the whole thing in German. I must have communicated well enough, because as far as I know I still have both kidneys. I was hoping there wouldn't be any surgery. I was envisioning some kind of laser, or maybe a saline solution. The doctor was envisioning knives. And he won. So I went under the knife Monday for what's considered a very minor surgery.

After it was all over, I woke up in a recovery room with my legs all bandaged up, my plastic booties back on and a blanket over me.  It seemed as if all my internal organs were in place. In case I had forgotten in my drugged up state that I was living in Germany, I remembered pretty fast. When I was thirsty, the medical assistant poured me warm fizzy water from a glass bottle. She told me I had to stay for 2 hours and would not be realeased until I ate at least one half of a bread roll (brötchen) and drank some tea. I could choose from a roll with cheese and Wurst or just cheese. I asked for one plain, and was told it was not possible. There are a lot of kinds of Wurst. Some are sliced like salami, some are in links, some are in coils, and others are suspended in gelatin like a jell-o mix gone wrong. There was no way to know what kind would come out on my brötchen. I went with cheese.


Since then, I am in no pain but I am not very good at being sick. I am annoyed by sitting still and I really want to go for a run. In short, this whole thing makes me cranky. Imagine what would happen if I had a real medical problem, or if I'd misunderstood and the doctor took out a kidney instead.

The leftovers

It was a good Thanksgiving weekend. Here are a few bits and pieces for you:

The dinner was delicious, everyone was happy to be there, the apartment looked as good as it ever has, and the only one who broke something was me. I whacked the stem off a wine glass in my left hand with a can of whip cream while vigorously shaking with in my right hand. The whip cream was meant for the pumpkin pie that everyone was too full to eat.

From left: the bird, baby Ivo, Thorsten and me with potatoes

The Pilgrims won the Puten Bowl yet again.

Pilgrims planning their offense

Pilgrims and Indians make peace and get ready to party together

Little Juno is already an American football fan

And then there was a party. A really good party. And lots of turkey sandwiches.
Even with all the cleaning up, I was very thankful.

Were there leftovers at the first Thanksgiving? There was not a 22 pound Butterball or cranberry sauce from a can, but maybe they had a few bits of venison and some squash to spare. Venison pot pie is probably delicious.

I don't get political too often on this blog, but I can't pass up this one:

And that's a wrap of Thanksgiving. Advent has begun and the Christmas markets are open. Time to ditch the pumpkins, unpack the stockings, and eat the last few slices of pumpkin pie. I promise to be careful with the can of whip cream.