‘S isch aifach die greeschti Fasnacht in dr ganze Schwiiz!

It’s Monday at 4:00 am and, suddenly, all the lights go off simultaneously; next thing you know, there are people wearing bizarre costumes and masks while fifing/drumming with lamps on their heads. Where in the world would this ever happen? In no other place than Switzerland, of course! You’ve probably already heard that the Swiss like to do things a bit different from time to time, well, this is by no means the exception.

In Basel, the Carnival (Fastnacht, in Standard German) kicks off at exactly four in the morning the Monday after Ash Wednesday, why? I’m not quite sure, but all I know is that the Catholic Church is not a big fan of the timing, more on that later.

The journey for me started at ~23:45 when we hopped on a DB train. The ride was not unusual, since I’ve been to Basel several times before, due to its proximity to Freiburg. This time, however, the train was mostly full with people who were really excited about the famous basler Fasnacht Morgenstraich–which I’ll translate as “Basel Carnival Morning Parade”–who were already drinking their badischer Wein (von der Soonneee verwöööhnt!) literally left and right. Upon arrival, our group started growing because there were several people we met on the way, as well as others whom we already knew but did not know were coming, so we decided to walk from the Basel Badischer Bahnhof, in north Basel, to the center city, which took somewhere between 15 and 30 minutes. The walk there was not as boring as I had expected it to be, mainly because we stopped several times to take photos/eat/chat with drunken-locals-with-an-even-more-incomprehensible-Swiss-German (I even took a photo with one, but had to delete to make space for videos). Another interesting stop was at a sausage booth, just after crossing the Rhein. At said booth, I asked the person selling the food for a “Weißwuascht,” and then the man chuckled and told me something along the lines of “Weißwurst? Mr sin i dr Schwiiz, nid i Bayern!” (“White sausage? We’re in Switzerland, not in Bavaria!”) and then he laughed again and told me the Swiss-German word for it, but it was impossible to pronounce and at the moment I can’t remember it. Later on, a friend asked a man in the street when the “Umzug” was coming and he was told that there are no Umzugs in Switzerland, that those happen in Germany and that, however, there is a “Straich” (Streich, in Standard German) coming at four in the morning. The Swiss seem to be very proud of their culture and non-German (?) heritage, or at least that’s the impression I’ve gotten every time I’ve been there, but maybe it seems that way to me because people here don’t seem to feel (or admit to) being proud of their German heritage since that’s still a taboo, for obvious reasons.

The parade itself was very surreal, to say the least. By around three or so we were fed and awaiting what we knew was about to come, so we decided to go to one of the streets close to one of the bigger churches (not the Münster). By this hour there were already thousands upon thousands of anxious spectators, most of which seemed to be Swiss. Then, suddenly, it all got dark in an instant, people cheered and fifing was heard. From then on everything seemed, very bizarre and weird in the best possible way. The costumes they were wearing, along with their masks, somehow did not seem out of place when one looked at the lamps they wore on their heads.

There was more to the Morgenstraich than the music and the light. Something else that always captivates the attention of the spectators is the message each float displays. This year, some of the more popular topics were: the Pope, Environmental Problems, Retirment Age, Russia, and loss of ‘Swiss’ Culture–even Homer (not the Odyssey one, but the Simpsons one) made a cameo! The main issue they had with Pope Benedict XVI was his antiquated, colonialistic and intolerant view of the world. Some of the main things they mentioned were his intolerance of other non-Catholic Churches and his crazy public statements, such as saying in Brazil that the natives in South Amercia were ’silently longing’ for Christianity and arguing that Galileo’s trail was fair and just. Of course, no critique of the Catholic Church would be complete without the mentioning the opposition to contraceptives.

(Ratzikal: Roma locuta. Causa finita. Locus Dei.)

(“Only one Church protects eternally and this Church: that’s me”)

(“it’s just too warm”)

That’s just a quick sample of the many floats that were there. The last hour or so of our stay was different, because we started walking between musical groups with some of the locals, the interesting part, though scary at some points, is that the groups sometimes stopped while those behind us continued on, and then turned around and walked towards us! This shenanigans continued until our departure, sometime between 6- and 7:30. I was able to go to bed by just around 8:30–good times. This semester is virtually over now. What’s next? Sverige.

- Bork Bork.

Tu vuò fà l’americano… in la Francia?!

It’s night here, which means it is pitch-dark and there is also a melodious silence in the crisp air; maybe it has to do with Christmas’ arrival. A .5 cm layer of frost ([der] Frost, in German) covers everything and it almost looks like snow, except that it’s made up of weird crystals that, when seen from up close, look like pine trees. It has been that way for a while (it was -8°C last night) and that is not something get evokes feelings of cheerfulness and happy-go-lucky-ness which meant that the stress of midterms worsened. What solved the problem? A spontaneous road trip that spanned four countries: driving from Stuttgart (A), Germany, to Nice (E), France; with a stop in Milan (D), Italy, on the way there and in Basel (C), Switzerland, on the way back. What made this trip crazier and seemingly random is that fact that I was asked to ride along nearing midnight a Friday and by ~13:00 of the following day we were crossing the Swiss border in a hybrid car. Usually I’m not somebody who enjoys being in a car for hours, but this drive is very different. My trip started in Freiburg (B), which is at the edge of the Black Forest, and took me through the Swiss Alps and part of northern Italy to end in the Côte d’Azur, in the French Mediterranean. Seeing everything change suddenly withing a couple of hours is a really amazing experience and it became most obvious in Switzerland. If you didn’t know already know it, Switzerland is a very multicultural country (four official languages: German, French, Italian, and Romansh) that believes in neutrality (its official name is Confœderatio Helvetica, in Latin) and it is for that reason that its de facto capital is in Bern, while the federal supreme court is in Lausanne, and other important offices are spread over the country. How sudden are the changes there? Well, at one point we entered a long tunnel and, suddenly, at the end of it everything was in Italian and not in German. Crossing the Italian border was also different, even though people still spoke the same language. I know this is very stereotypical, but the driving was crazy! People drove a lot more recklessly, faster, and used the horn a lot more often; oddly enough, that made it feel a little like Ecuador.

It was already dark when we entered Italy, so we decided to take a short detour and eat dinner in Milan. The way the streets are laid out, the road conditions, the vegetations, the smells, faster cars breaking traffic laws, speeding motorcycles, music all around us seemed very Latin American–I loved it. We walked around a bit in the old city, in la Piazza del Duomo, and went into la Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II where we ate a incredibly delicious, albeit expensive, dinner. After having spent no more than four hours there, we continued our journey to Nice, but Italy left a good after-taste in my mouth and I can barely wait until I go to Padua, Verona, and Venice in late January.

A small sign (smaller than the “Welcome to North Carolina” signs) let us know we had entered France and, once again, everything suddenly (within a few dozen feet) changed to French, but it wasn’t just the language, but other things like speed limits and road signs looked slightly different. The whole ride from the back seat seemed like a blurry watercolor painting with oil pastel highlights, specially when driving in the Mediterranean area where Italy meets France: driving next to precipice with mountains on one side and the sea on the other.

The arrival in Nice was very stressful because it was very late and we were cranky. To make matters worse, it’s virtually impossible to find a free parking spot because the streets are very narrow in this old city and everybody has a car. After finally managing to park the car we made it to the hotel and slept like logs. The morning thereafter started a lot earlier than I had planned and waking up early was definitely worth it. The sun shone much more intensely than I would’ve had anticipated and the wind blew, which made it very cold, but I didn’t mind at all, because I hadn’t seen a beach in months! Walking around the city was a very refreshing experience, from the daily routine in cold, dark, and cloudy Germany. I hadn’t seen a sun this bright and a Carolina-blue sky in a while and that combination made everything around me look like a hybrid between an oil painting and something out of a technicolor movie. Most of the houses ranged from a light papaya color to a warmer light mustard color, the water fluctuated in coloration from a very deep blue to almost turquoise. The mountains in the backdrop were a washy sandy beige dotted with trees of varying hues. In the distance we saw a hill that overlooked the sea and we made our way there, with the water on our right side. We encountered people going into the frigid water; a small improvised petting-zoo with sheep, cows, goats, and horses; street musicians playing music to which an old lady happily danced; a small Christmas market; and we also saw rollerblader zoom past us.

Once at the foot of the hill we started going up, stopping every few steps to take more photos of the slightly ever-changing view of an intensely blue sea that seemed to be in flames where the sun reflected the light. At the edge of this water, small polished stones served as buffers and created what looked like a half moon from that height. The wind blew even harder and I couldn’t help but stop and just look at the water for a while. The city looks a lot different from up there and it gives you a very different perspective than walking among tall housings in narrow, curving, sloping cobblestone streets. On the way down, we decided to go off on a little detour and went down the other other side of the hill to close to where the lighthouse protrudes into the sea. The road was very curvy and very few cars were on it and trees and paths were also all around us, most of which led to unknown locations on the hill. Being down there, so close to the water, was also something I had missed and that compels me to want to come back in the warmer months, but before all the hordes of people overcrowd the place and before it gets unbearably hot. The food? Also amazing and, luckily, not as expensive as in Milan, though a bit more than what I’d pay here in Freiburg. And that day had come to an end. We left early the next morning and made a small stop in Basel, where we saw the Weihnachtsmarkt and were confused several times by not only by how they speak the language, but also by the Swiss norms and standards.

Events like these do seem ephemeral, but memories aren’t.

La vida no es la que uno vivió, sino la que uno recuerda, y cómo la recuerda para contarla.
– Gabriel García Márquez.

Laßt mich nicht erfrieren…

It has been a while since I last wrote here, but not much has happened.   Right now it seems as though things around me are changing at a faster rate than I am. Some of the main differences are that it’s December now, which means that it gets dark by 16:30 and it is cold, very cold–though it hasn’t been as cold lately as it had been; a couple of weeks ago when we had several weeks of -5 °C mornings. I quite like the cold here, but only when we get snow; that is the reason why I went with some friends to Schauinsland, the closest mountain we have to Freiburg. It truly was one of those postcard-like places people image when they think of snowy Germany, complete with huts where people could eat a hot Gulasch, chow down a Wurst, or drink some Glühwein. This place is very popular with the locals, because one can get to the base of the mountain for free with the unlimited public transportation ticket, and from then on one pays 9,50€ to go up with a cable car. I was amazed by how much snow was there since it was only mid November! But, there was a lot more snow in…

Austria

I went to Innsbruck, in the Tyrol area of the Alps, in early November. I really liked the city, but not as much as its surroundings. In a way, it felt like I hadn’t left Germany, but it was still a bit different, but in a way that other German states differ from each other. Maybe it felt like that because the people there talked really weird and at the same time it felt like I was still in Germany because there was only a small sign on the side of the road letting me know I was in Austrian territory, coupled with a text message O2 sent me outlining my roaming options. I’m glad I’m not a vegetarian, because it seemed harder to find good vegetarian options in Tyrol. How bad is it? Well the Innsbruck University of Medicine invited us to a dinner every night we were there and the options of the third day were: a dish with four types of meats and fish with bacon for Vegetarians. I decided to go with the “vegetarian” menu because I had eaten meat about three times a day the past two days. It is also not as green as Freiburg is, because every bathroom I used only had paper towels that weren’t even made out of recycled paper, but this perception could be slightly off, since Freiburg is as green as it gets and then it goes a little further. The people there were generally nice and friendly, but the bus driver had warned us that things will be a little different, because Austrians are a little slower than Germans (as in moving slower) and this proved to be true. Maybe the speak so weird because of the cold that prohibits them from moving their mouth in certain ways, hindering the proper enunciation of certain German words. Die Strassenbahn kommt, the tram comes, ends up sounding like D’ Bim kim. The generic greeting in this area is either Servus! or Grüß Gott! Which brings me to my next point: this area of Austria, not unlike Bavaria, is VERY Catholic. In the old area of town, most–if not all–important buildings, as well as others of less significance, had façades with busts of Virgin Mary holding Baby Jesus in her arms. There were also crucifixes in the corners of big rooms and everybody proudly told you they were Catholic and also stated that virtually everybody in Innsbruck is Catholic. It was more present and latent than even in Ecuador, it seemed, and it contrasted starkly with Germany’s predominant deism and just-cultural Christianity. Even Freiburg does not feel as Catholic as Innsbruck and it seems like we have a Catholic church in every block. Among some of the things we did, we went to the Aline Zoo, where I saw bears and beavers up-close. There were also owls, wolves, lynxes, etc… On the way back to Germany we went on a little detour and stopped by what is arguably the most famous castle in the world: Neuschwanstein Schloss. If you’ve been to Magic Kingdom, the resemblance will be quite obvious and that seems to be one of the reasons why so many American tourists make this one Germany’s most visited and photographed buildings. The place is really cool, but most of the interior is not accessible to tourists, but what is just as interesting is a bit of the history of the crazy king, Ludwig II. von Bayern. Read up a little on him and then you’ll probably be just as puzzled as most people who visit the castle.

Oh, the Christmas Markets have opened for business here. That is as typisch Deutsch as it gets, but more on that another time.

eins… zwo… drei… jetzt geht’s los aufm Wasen!

What is one of the first things that comes to mind when most people think about Germany? A horrible event in its past, Lederhosen, small cars, Apfelschorle, but… aren’t I forgetting something? Well, Germans are also, perhaps above many other things, known for their beer and their festivals involving copious amounts of it. It turns out that the German drinking culture has deep historical roots (see Reinheitsgebot), starting centuries and centuries ago when the Church finally removed the ban on alcohol drinking during lent (or something like that), so, what were monks (Paulaner!) to do? Brew rich and tasty beer to help with the nourishment; rumor has it that seven small beers equal a Schnitzel, but I’m not entirely sure about that. Drinking is also not a taboo and is not slightly demonized as it is in the states, for example, as mentioned in an earlier entry, there is a famous Biergarten here in Freiburg (Hausbrauerei Feierling) that is next to some kind of, well, Kindergarten or childcare place. Beer at Church? Warum nicht? A couple of weeks ago I went on a hike in the neighboring mountains and went to the St. Ottilien Chapel. I think she, Ottilien, was born without sight and abandoned by her father who wanted to kill her, but later regained her sight and did some healings, or something of the sort, but back to the point. Next to this Chapel there was another Biergarten! I can already hear some of you gasping, but it is totally acceptable here, because nobody thinks anything bad about enjoying a beer or two with friends and family. That is exactly the point: enjoying it, but with moderation. It seems people here know how to better control their drinking and, even though they might be ganz besoffen, most will not do anything bother others, do something stupid, or drink themselves to death.

Lots of drinking was what happened last week, during the Cannstatter Volksfest (colloquially/better known as „Wasen“) in Stuttgart. This was one of those events that will stay with me until the end of my life and it will always bring a smile to my face. Why? Well, imagine thousands of strangers sitting at benches, singing and drinking together like best friends without worrying about much else, being one, singing in unison. Sons, fathers, and grandfathers; together. What more can I say? Watch this video I made:

Da simmer dabei! Dat is prima, VIVA COLONIA!
Wir lieben das Leben, die Liebe und die Lust
Wir glauben an den lieben Gott und hab’n noch immer Durst!

Abflug und Ankunft.

The flight 8-hours-and-45-minute flight from Charlotte to Munich had no problems or even remarkable anecdotes (except for the man sitting next to me who talked way too much). Somethings worth mentioning about Lufthansa are their quality of service and their tasty food; I was pleasantly surprised. I waited in the Munich airport for a couple of hours and took a flight to Frankfurt am Main that lasted less than 45 minutes, during which flight I slept more than in the longer flight from Charlotte. Once there, a cousin (thrice removed, vielleicht) came.

By this time I was mostly delirious from the exhaustion and the jet-lag; I was falling asleep mid-sentence (to some of you this may bring back memories from Berlin). The train ride to Mainz seemed like 2 minutes (perhaps because I was both bewildered and scared by a drunken Deutscher passed out on the floor) and it gave me a nice fast-forwarded view of the area through the Fenster. This brings me back to one of the more interesting things I have come across my short stay in this country: what I call Deuñol (doy-GNOHL). This mixture of Spanish and German has been the lingua franca between the people with whom I spent most of my time in Mainz. It was a bit weird in the beginning, but eventually hearing things like “achso, tengo que irme en el próximo Strassenbahn para tomar el Zug de las 0:15… ¡oye, no le pongas Kirschen al Kuchen!” doesn’t sound weird at all. As this shows, my experience so far in Germany has been a bit unorthodox, but maybe that is the norm for international (perhaps also for domestic) students here, after all, my first breakfast in this country was churros mit mate.

The city of Mainz is not very big, but it is does have a rich history (I think some Gutenberg dude was born there. He must’ve had some historical influence of some sort). It was very nice walking around the city with a breeze and a temperature of about 60° F, talking and smelling coffee and ice-cream. Seeing people sitting, just having a beer and playing guitar without running anywhere or worrying about having to hurry to be in X place was a very nice feeling. One of my favorite parts was just sitting next to a huge fountain composed of dozens of metal statues in Schillerplatz listening to a stranger playing guitar.

Later that evening I spent the time making and eating Argentine empadas, payed a short visit to a good-bye party for a student from Spain, played BS, and went to bed (where I still suffered some let-lag). The morning thereafter, today, I came to Karlsruhe where I will be until I leave for Freiburg on Monday–I already have my ICE ticket!

More on Karlsruhe is to come.