Not your Grandma’s Religion

Photo taken in September, 2011

One of my blog readers recently had a “culture shock” moment. He’s a nurse, and he was filling out a patient questionnaire with a German woman. When he asked her religion, she became upset. What went wrong?

Religion and society interweave in very different ways in America and Germany. For instance, in America, we don’t put Christian art on our government buildings or in our streets. But Germany has been Christian for centuries, and all the photos today are examples of public Christian art. St. George, in the one above, is on Saarbrücken’s city hall! And most German holidays are Christian in origin.

Although the German constitution guarantees religious freedom, it doesn’t guarantee the separation of church and state. German tax forms ask for religion and levy a surcharge on those who declare one that goes to the church of their choice. Germans who don’t pay this have no right to an official church marriage or funeral.

Photo taken in September, 2011

Nevertheless, many Germans today aren’t what we would consider religious. They don’t attend services. They view religion as something important to the elderly, particularly since clergy are called to the dying. And they view us Americans with some concern because we often go to church weekly and get involved in issues like whether “under God” should be in our Pledge. That seems to Germans to border on fanaticism.

We Americans, who view religion as a personal choice and a matter of personal identity, are usually proud to proclaim our religion. If we don’t have a religion, we’re usually proud to proclaim that too. We know the government won’t get involved. But that’s not true in Germany.

Photo taken in October, 2011

So, back to the German patient. What did she hear when asked, “What is your religion?”

1. “I’m getting into your business, with possible financial consequences.”

2. “You look like a granny to me.”

3. “You look like you’re dying.”

4. “This may be a factor in arranging your funeral.”

No wonder she got upset!

Here’s an approach that might have worked better:

“This hospital has chaplains who are happy to visit patients. Would you like a chaplain to visit you? If so, which religion?”

Photo taken in October, 2011

To read my latest blog posts, please click on the “Green and Pleasant Land” logo at the top of this page. Photos taken between September and November in various cities in Germany. Text and photos copyright Clare B. Dunkle.

Posted in Churches and religion, Daily life, Folk traditions, Public art | 4 Comments

Teilen means to part, to divide into parts, or to share out in parts, so der Teil (also das Teil) is a part or a fraction. But which part is der Vorteil? That’s the part that sets itself vor — ahead of all the others. Der Vorteil is an advantage, a benefit, or a strategic edge.

Posted on by Clare B. Dunkle | Leave a comment

Consuming Christmas

Photo taken in December, 2011

Maybe because it comes along during the longest nights of the year, or maybe just because Germans seem to love a good celebration, Christmas is a very big deal in Germany. From what I’ve gathered in my time here, this is less the Bible’s Christmas and more Charles Dickens’ Christmas: a time to gather with family and loved ones, give friends a thoughtful gift, raise a glass, and say “God bless us every one!” As Marley’s ghost would say, mankind is its business. It’s a holiday about togetherness.

Togetherness means food and drink. It means decorating the house for guests. It means selecting a box of chocolates for the coworkers. And German stores reflect that. Since Germans traditionally bring a small gift whenever they’re invited to a party, Christmastime or not, stores offer small fruit baskets, and supermarket ads include deals on wine. A good bottle of wine is always a welcome “hostess” gift. Florists create centerpieces for party hosts to buy and floral arrangements for guests to bring.

Photo taken in December, 2011

Thankfully, the corny, cartoony sorts of Christmas displays haven’t caught on here. Even the supermarket decorations are more dignified than ours back in the States. And whereas we go crazy setting up our front yards and stringing our Christmas lights, I haven’t seen too much of that here. I may see a candle display in a window or a fir tree lit up in the yard, but there’s no conga line of dancing polar bears across the front lawn. Back home, stores devote lots of space to exterior lighted displays. Here, the emphasis is on tasteful interior decor for party guests to enjoy.

Photo taken in December, 2011

Unlike our holiday candies, which largely seem to be designed for a child’s stocking or quiet consumption in the privacy of our own homes, a large share of the German candies are clearly intended to be gifts for other discerning adults.

Photo taken in December, 2011

And of course, there are baking displays dedicated to creating holiday desserts.

Photo taken in December, 2011

A number of the treats are available just at Christmas. They’ll go away again until the winter months next year.

To read my latest blog posts, please click on the “Green and Pleasant Land” logo at the top of this page. Photos taken in December, 2011, in Kaiserslautern, Germany. Text and photos copyright Clare B. Dunkle.

Posted in Festivals, Food and drink, Holidays, Seasons | Leave a comment

The other day, as I was idly looking through house rental listings, I came across this statement: Ein Tresor ist vorhanden. What is vorhanden — available? Treasure?!

I’ve always loved the word Tresor because it sounds so exciting and important, and it isn’t far off from what it sounds like, either. Der Tresor isn’t treasure, but it’s a treasure chest. In other words, der Tresor is a safe.

Posted on by Clare B. Dunkle | Leave a comment

Reminiscent Only of Itself

Photo taken in December, 2011

If this blog seems cathedral-heavy, that’s because I love cathedrals. Stunningly beautiful even in our day, cathedrals represented heroic effort and almost miraculous achievement in their day. Each one is unique. They’re not just buildings; they’re audacity and imagination in stone.

Recently, Joe and I visited Limburg Cathedral, or Limburger Dom, in Limburg an der Lahn. Although I’ve seen the great high-Gothic cathedrals of France, this is my favorite cathedral so far. It’s more approachable, for one thing: it’s less than half the length of Notre Dame in Paris. For another thing, its construction took place quickly, the bulk from 1190 to 1235. Thus, it’s one consistent design instead of a mishmash of conflicting fashions.

Photo taken in December, 2011

Limburg Cathedral can be called late Romanesque or early Gothic. I think it marries the most beautiful elements of both, so it’s a shame that our architectural guides relegate it to a transitional stage on the way to something else. As a 1905 treatise states, it “stands supreme in its class. … In short, it is reminiscent only of itself.” So perhaps we should simply call it Limburger architecture.

Photo taken in December, 2011

We see here the wonderful arcades that are so important in Romanesque architecture, but the cathedral springs upward with a grace and lightness that only Gothic churches have, its heavy piers lightened by colorful frescoes and hidden behind clusters of thin columns that emphasize verticality. If it lacks the high-Gothic stained glass, it makes up for that with delicate stonework and harmonious design.

Photo taken in December, 2011

The vaulting in the nave must have represented real daring. Architects at this time were attempting to carry cathedral roofs without the massive Romanesque pillars and heavy barrel vaults. But they didn’t fully understand the forces they were dealing with. Sometimes cathedral roofs came crashing down.

Photo taken in December, 2011

Much of the charm of Limburg Cathedral lies in its colorful paint and medieval frescoes. The frescoes were damaged during the Thirty Years’ War, painted over by Baroque artists, and restored inexactly in the 1800′s. But a recent and very careful twenty-five-year renovation has brought this cathedral back to its full beauty. I’m looking forward to visiting it again.

Miltoun, Francis. The Cathedrals and Churches of the Rhine. Boston: L. C. Page and Company, 1905. Project Gutenberg EBook #31936.

To read my latest blog posts, please click on the “Green and Pleasant Land” logo at the top of this page. Photos taken in December, 2011, in Limburg an der Lahn, Germany. Text copyright Clare B. Dunkle. Photos copyright 2011 by Joseph R. Dunkle and Clare Dunkle.

Posted in Churches and religion, German art, German history, Public art, Tourist destinations | Leave a comment

German dictionaries list tons of words for “radio station.” But thanks to a conversation with Rainer and Heidi last night, I now know that der Radiosender is the common word to use around here when you’re talking about your favorite station.

Posted on by Clare B. Dunkle | Leave a comment

Die Beiden Schwestern

Photo taken in December, 2011

While flipping through the Wilhelm Busch storybook Heidi loaned me, I came across this illustration, and I think we all know what’s going on here. (See my earlier post about this literary star whose stories paved the way for the comic book.)

The frog is saying,

“Erbarme dich, erbarme dich,
Ach, küsse und umarme mich!”

“Have mercy, have mercy, oh, kiss and hug me!”

This line might not work on everybody, but Kätchen is a softhearted girl. She kisses him, and he changes:

Photo taken in December, 2011

And before another panel has passed, Kätchen has the prince, the castle, and her happy-ever-after.

So far, so good. This is a short version of the classic Frog Prince (Froschprinz) story, as told by the Brothers Grimm. But Wilhelm Busch’s tale is called “Die beiden Schwestern” — “The Two Sisters.” And this is where the retelling takes an interesting turn.

Kätchen has a sister, Adelheid, who is lazy and vain. While Kätchen works, Adelheid lolls around in fine clothes. So we have here the classic good sister-bad sister setup.

Photo taken in December, 2011

Sure enough, Adelheid goes walking by the water next and meets a handsome stranger. His pickup line is rather more aggressive:

“Ich liebe dich, bin treu gesinnt,
Komm, küsse mich, du hübsches Kind!”

“I love you, I’m not kidding. Come, kiss me, you cutie!”

This is a line that shouldn’t work on anybody! But Adelheid feels that they have a lot in common: they both love Adelheid. So she kisses him.

Photo taken in December, 2011

And he changes into the Wasserneck, a water-god or water creature. (I love the fish-lyre.)

Photo taken in December, 2011

Because she’s kissed him, she now belongs to him.

Photo taken in December, 2011

So Adelheid has to stay with the Wasserneck, whom Busch nicknames Wassernickel. He’s a fat old fish, and she has to pat his Glatze (chrome dome).

I’ve read about a planned capture like this, but only in an Irish folktale, and even then, the girl got away when she noticed seaweed in the water god’s hair and sang to him till he fell asleep. So this is a wonderful blend of three different folktale traditions, spiced with Busch’s own unique sense of humor.

To read my latest blog posts, please click on the “Green and Pleasant Land” logo at the top of this page. Photos taken in December, 2011, in Rodenbach, Germany. Text copyright Clare B. Dunkle. Photos are not subject to copyright as they are faithful reproductions of old, public domain, two-dimensional works of art.

Posted in Books and reading, Folk traditions, German language, German literature | Leave a comment

The other day, Joe picked up a container of milk and wanted to know what haltbar meant. Because of how it’s used on the milk container — mindestens haltbar bis — he thought it might mean “fresh.” But it doesn’t. The German suffix, -bar, attaches to verbs and generally means “able to be [fill in the blank with your verb]ed.” Thus, when you reach a German’s voicemail, the automatic recording tells you that the person you’re calling is nicht erreichbar — unable to be reached. A German warning label might say, “Achtung! Brennbar!” — “Warning! Flammable!” And a German friend might say that a song is tanzbar — able be danced to. (Offenbar throws us a slight curve, though — it means something is obvious.)

So back to Joe’s question about mindestens haltbar bis. It means the milk is haltbar able to be held mindestens at least bis until the date printed on the carton.

Posted on by Clare B. Dunkle | Leave a comment

Winter Begins

Photo taken in December, 2011

In one of my happiest childhood memories, it is nighttime in north Texas, and I am standing with my brother Anthony in the middle of the street in the thickest snowfall I have ever seen. Enormous, fluffy flakes, pink in the light from the sodium vapor streetlamp, are drifting down in their own good time. They’re so big that they hit with audible little cracks and stick like pancakes to our jackets and the street. As Anthony and I stand there in the midst of all that beauty, with awe and wonder in our hearts, we know beyond any doubt that this gift from heaven is going to close down school in the morning.

Small wonder, then, that this Texas kid still finds snow to be the truest form of magic.

I haven’t seen snow in five years. But yesterday, we woke up to find a thin sheet of white on the ground. It quickly melted, but this morning it was back again–and still falling. So I put on my galoshes and coat and went out to play in the snow. And I wasn’t the only one. This part of Germany doesn’t get heavy snowfall, so lots of people were out with their dogs or out with their friends, laughing and talking and enjoying the holiday weather.

Photo taken in December, 2011

Snow makes familiar sights new. Take this backyard sculpture, which is a favorite of mine: I think he looks very dignified with his mask of snow.

Photo taken in December, 2011

I thought the red berries were pretty in the snow, but others weren’t so pleased with the change.

Photo taken in December, 2011

The thrushes were trying to eat the berries without getting dumped on. One thrush had developed a system that rendered him impossible to photograph: he would fly in, grab a berry, and flutter away in a furious hurry to beat the snow sliding off the branches.

After a while, my fingers got too cold to work the camera, which is why the thrush is a little blurry. So I came home to a hot cup of fruit tea with honey, homemade gingerbread hearts, and my German Advent wreath.

I hope you have a magical holiday too.

Photo taken in December, 2011

To read my latest blog posts, please click on the “Green and Pleasant Land” logo at the top of this page. Photos taken in December, 2011, in Rodenbach, Germany. Text and photos copyright 2011 by Clare B. Dunkle.

Posted in Daily life, Seasons, Weather | Leave a comment

Photo taken in December, 2011

A couple of weeks ago, we learned what German lumberjacks say, but what about German stores or restaurants that need to warn patrons about hazards like low ceilings? The polite word of warning in these situations is “Vorsicht!” From vor (ahead) and die Sicht (sight), die Vorsicht means foresight, caution, or prudence. In the photo above, it means to be prudent enough not to bash your head into a beam put in place in the 1600s. Our ancestors were little people!

Posted on by Clare B. Dunkle | Leave a comment