All's Fair in Fasching

Christmas Eve at my house always brought a visit from Santa Claus. It's a mystery, I know, chalk it up to Christmas magic. One year as we were waiting for him to show up and bring the presents already, the big man surprised all of us kids on the couch by banging on the bay window. One of my brothers started off sitting on the arm of the couch and ended in the lap of another screaming like a howler monkey. Moral of the story: Santa is terrifying to small children.
Now imagine swapping out Jolly Ol' Saint Nick with this:

 My question is how are very small German children not sobbing in terror for the whole six week period of the Fasching season? I attended my first Fasching parade Monday in Horb and it was enough for me. I can't imagine how these people put up with it for so long. I learned that there is at least one parade in a week and all the same things happen every time:
The parade begins and there's a chant the crowd says. It sounds something like Naho, Haribo! I have no idea what I was shouting, but I learned that if a witch comes up to you and you aren't shouting it's like wearing a fanny-pack target on your back. Groups of people dress up like as many horrifying things as they can think of,

Like cheese

run through the streets with... Christmas tree wrappers. Yep. With netting and everything...

Yeah, I saw a kid get thrown in there. He came out like a prepackaged turkey.

buckets of confetti to dump people into and then shove it down their clothes....

The girl this happened to was putting paper slips out of her coat a week later.

 Stocks...

Think 1700's and you've got it.

Or, as weapon of choice these witches chose pig intestines blown into balloons with which they would hit people with. Repeatedly. Until the "balloon" popped.

That's sanitary, right?

Mostly they just run up to unsuspecting girls and...

steal their shoes and throw them over powerlines

put them in cages,

Then spin it.

 pin them to the ground...

and then sandwich them and roll away with them down the street..

There is a girl in there. I swear. The loch ness monster covered her up.

 I pretty much feel like I saw it all. Thankfully only one girl from Michigan got it bad. The worst that happened to her (other than confetti down the shirt, hair musings and being picked up) was being drug into the street and thrown over someones shoulder while being spanked with a rubber paddle. This all happened while I cowered in fear. She didn't mind it though, right Johanna?

Fill in the blank.

 And I was terrified. Even the children were braver than me. There was a two year old next to me in the street waiting politely for some not insane witch to come by and give him some candy (he got an egg.) and one of the witches came up close to him probably trying to steal him he look at her/him and bellowed, "Nein!" and punched the witch in the leg.

Take out his kneecaps!

 That's how the two-year-old deals with a mean witch. I'll try that tactic next time.
Or not.

They gave him back. ...I think.

The biggest conundrum is why this is so acceptable? No one fights it or even acts like they dislike it. They all go along with it and even pay money for it! (It costs two euro to see the parade.)

I guess I shouldn't complain because I made out pretty good. I learned that the witches will steal your hat (I wasn't surprised after that.) So I used it for a bucket and caught candy with it.

 I think I made out pretty good.
Sorry about the long post, but I thought it was interesting to share and more honestly, I wanted you guys to believe me when I say that the Germans here are a little crazy.

Good morning, Sunshine!

Oh Germany, you are slipping. Even your windows and Walker, Texas Ranger might not keep you afloat through your lack of sleep and insurance claims. When you wake me up at 5:02am with a throat-clenching cold and then again at 6:09am by people playing cow bells, whistles, and vuvuzelas (How I despise the vuvuzelas.) with enough vigor to make a soccer hooligan proud, and then send those same people out again at 6:27am to repeat their little parade. I am sitting in my room just clinging to the ounce of hope I have that you will let me return to sleep for just a few more minutes before I have to crack my eyelids and start worrying about how I am going to afford your ridiculously awesomely expensive insurance that I can only turn down if I never plan on needing it ever again. In my life. Ever.
I have been awake for twenty minutes, dear Germany, and these are the first thoughts you have given me to move forward with in my day.
I kind of want to kick you in the shin.
PS Alles Gute zum Geburtstag, Mom. I tried calling yesterday to say I love you and eat some cake for me.

'Tis the Season...

I'll admit I'm feeling a little pressure to write great posts because some people have told me they like my writing--which is great--but now I've got a reputation to upkeep. Bummer.

Lately it's just been class and school work. Nothing exciting is happening except it is the beginning of a festival season here called "Fasnet", or as they say two towns over "Fasching" or if you live a little further north "Karnival"... (I think those are all the names.) I say beginning because it lasts over five weeks and is essentially a countdown until the fasting period of Lent. These Germans must take Lent dangerously serious though, because it is five weeks of intense partying and indulging in vices.

Every weekend there is a parade in a different town with their own costumes, themes, and traditions. The parade is best compared to the parade of fools at Cheeseburger festival. (Yes, for all you out-of-towners, Michigan actually has a festival for cheeseburgers. Really, look it up. We're kind of proud of it.) Only instead of flamingos and obesity they promote witches, drinking, and terrorizing neighbors. A normal Fasnet parade goes something like this: The really intense Fasnett-goers dress up as something. Generally a witch, or joker, maybe a tree, but never an ordinary witch, joker or tree. These are nightmare-inducing masks with full body suits. No one here uses it as an excuse to dress up as a "sexy black cat". The goal is to scare the pants off of small children. Fun fact: They succeed.

So, after donning the unnerving costume and lighting up their torches these people roam the streets in a sort of parade fashion encouraging participation from the looky-loos by bodily picking them up (mostly young women because they're lighter) hoisting them up in cages and spinning the cages. Those are just the lucky ones though, because the others may only be thrown into barrels of confetti, have their shoelaces cut off, have oil wiped over their face and hands, or if your parade is really boring, have candy shoved down their shirts. Remember: this is all done by anonymous, and easily very drunk, masked strangers.

I think it goes without saying that not everyone likes Fasnet. My host family for one, among many of the young women I've talked with, have told me that they hate it. But they always seem to tag on that I absolutely HAVE to go because it's a must see. Elke just encouraged my host brother to go with me instead of alone. Huh.

As I have yet to personally partake in any of these wonderful traditions, these stories I'm telling you have come from the local newspaper (Elke is letting me bring it home as a souvenir. She says souvenir, I say proof.), and a girl at school who, to no avail after screaming "Ich bin Auslander! Ich bin Auslander! *I'm foreign!*" to get away, was confetti-ed and hoisted onto witches shoulders and carried about.
(Note to my very alarmed mother right now: Not all of these celebrations turn out like this. It's just a tradition in some towns and in others it is completely different.)

On that very interesting note, I will leave you all now to get some sleep before classes tomorrow. Bis bald.