A "Fasching" good time

Ok, so what kind of Munich-residing expat would I be if I failed to mention Carnival, or as it’s called here in southern Germany, Fasching.

I know I’m a little late writing about this. But I’ve been busy with important hausfrau missions such as trying to acquire a laundry hamper, which as it turns out is no easy task. Twice we’ve ordered one only to be told later our selection was unavailable. Indefinitely. So the search for the perfect dark brown, preferably square, somewhat cat-scratch proof hamper (with a lid) continues. And in the meantime, the ever growing pile of laundry covering the floor makes it looks like it’s snowing clothes in our apartment.

But back to Fasching…

According to Wikipedia, and local bakeries selling krapfen, Fasching official begins mid-November, November 11 at 11:11 a.m. to be exact. And Ash Wednesday marks its end, right before Lent. But you don’t have to be Catholic to enjoy the festivities.

Fasching in Munich is filled with colorful costumes, parades, parties and of course the aforementioned, krapfen. Since I love food, I’ll start with those.

What gets me through the winter and keeps me out of a swimsuit

For Germans, or lovers of German food, they’re a lot like the well-known berliners (the pastry, not the people…that would just be gross). And for Americans, they’re similar to a filled donut…but better, much better. And unlike Berliners, which are typically either plain or filled with jam, krapfen come in many jam- and cream-filled varieties, my favorites being eierlikör (egg liquor), tiramisu and schwarzwälder (black forest).

And you’ve got to love any celebration that support people dressing like this:

Mozart meets...v-neck hippie man

Thomas and I went to a Fasching’s costume party with a few of his friends last weekend. It was kind of like a Halloween party back in the States, only without girls competing for the “least dressed” title in which competitors often win free drinks from sleazy guys and (in places like Madison, Wis.) second-degree frostbite. A few photos:

Lots of dancing...

Lots of  music...

And lots of photobombs from my husband in disguise.

Unfortunately, we didn’t make it to any parades this year as that would have required us to get up early and cut into our valuable furniture assembly and installation time. But there’s always next year.

Although, next year’s Fasching may be spent here. Fingers crossed – or in German style, daumen drücken (thumbs pressed). On second thought, I think I’ll stick with fingers crossed. Superstition infidelity might be bad luck…

Ringing in the New Year with a bang – literally

Nothing says Happy New Year in Germany like getting together to go drinking on the streets while lighting thousands of bottle rockets and other over-the-counter fireworks.

Getting a "light"

While we have this tradition in the United States (except drinking on the street as that's illegal in most cities), it in no way compares to what I’ve experienced in Germany. Both in a small town outside Stuttgart and in the heart of Munich, people pour outside, explosives in hand, ready to release their inner pyromaniac.

Lighting bottle rockets in the heart of the city

One possible reason for this "explosive" difference is that many U.S. cities don’t allow private fireworks for safety and fire reasons. (Note: most U.S. homes and small buildings are made from wood, not concert as they are in Germany.) Cities will often have an organized, professional fireworks display instead. And for most people, this is more appealing to watch than driving out to the boonies to light a couple of bottle rockets into a corn field.

But here, the flashes of light, loud BOOMs, screams of slightly-to-heavily intoxicated partiers and people running from fireworks lit too close for comfort, gives New Year’s Eve in Germany a dramatic, yet somewhat surreal atmosphere.

In fact, even as we ascended the stairs out of the U-Bahn station at Marienplatz, a few trigger-happy merrymakers couldn’t help lighting up a few. The combination of smoke, noise and light could have made for a perfect scene in a war movie. Here's a video I took just as we emerged:

Legend tells us we do to this because it was thought fire and noise would scare away malevolent spirits or demons. Maybe. Or maybe people just like blowing stuff up.

In any case, while it may or may not scare away petulant poltergeists, it does discourage people from wearing highly flammable, synthetic clothing. And as I did get stung slightly on the face from a stray ember, I realized it was for the best that I forgot to wear one of my brightly colored wigs that night...

Here's a short snippet of the night's "finale:"

 ...And the celebration's aftermath. It takes a few days for the city to recover.

The aftermath