Last night, Joe and I were watching a show on Bavarian lumberjacks. “This is great!” I said. “Now I’ll learn how Germans say ‘Timber!'”
And how do Germans say “Timber”? They yell, “Obacht!” Die Obacht means care or attention, so “Obacht!” means “Watch out!”
Cathedrals look like rooms. But they act like cities.
Take the Strasbourg Cathedral, for instance. I walk inside the door, and I say to myself, “This is nothing but a very large room. It has the same thing cathedrals always have: pillars, vaults, stained glass, tapestries. I can see it all from here.”
But as I walk, new vistas open up around me.
Like this view of St. Bartholomew and St. Philip standing on a pillar between stained glass windows.
Details that I couldn’t see before enchant me.
Like the medieval city herald who stands beneath the organ pipes.
To see all this cathedral has to offer, I have to walk through it as I would walk up a city street.
And look through railings.
And admire the gorgeous dress on a beautiful lady.
And pick out an interesting face.
And witness a sad and very dramatic arrest.
Who would have thought, from the relatively uncomplicated view at the door, that a peek into the vault above the main altar would look like this?
And this city even has a jail.
There is a legend about Strasbourg Cathedral that the devil was riding by on the wind one night when he saw the cathedral and felt curious to see how he was pictured inside. He entered the cathedral, and he hasn’t come out. The wind still howls around the square outside, waiting for its rider to return.
And what happened to the devil? He’s here.
All tied up and stuck inside a stained glass window!
On Friday: the Pillar of Angels.
To read my latest blog posts, please click on the “Green and Pleasant Land” logo at the top of this page. Photos taken in November, 2011, in Strasbourg, France. Text and photos copyright 2011 by Clare B. Dunkle.
This weekend, my daughter chuckled over my using entspannen in an English sentence. But I love the word! The verb spannen means to tighten, stress, stretch, or otherwise put tension on something. The prefix ent- suggests something at a distance. So entspannen means to remove the source of tension or stress–to relieve pressure or to ease up on a spring. This carries over to emotional stress. Sich entspannen means to relax. So, for example, Ich entspanne mich beim reiten–I relax by hoseback riding.
I really like that this verbe is reflexive (or, in other words, takes the sich). Because that expresses the truth. We can’t just relax. We have to relax ourselves. We take the stress off ourselves in proactive, healthy ways.
Did I say we would be going inside the Strasbourg Cathedral on Friday? I lied. It’s Monday, and we’re still lingering on the steps. But I can’t help it. The facade of this cathedral is one of the most beautiful sights I’ve ever seen.
A pagan temple stood on this site until the reign of Clovis, King of the Franks, in the early 500’s. Then the energetic warrior-king converted to Christianity, although old habits of mind died hard: when he learned of Christ’s death on the cross, he is said to have seized his battle ax and cried, “Oh, if I had been there with my Franks!” A succession of churches perished, however, and by the time work took place on this part of the cathedral , Gothic architecture was at its peak (1277-1439 AD).
And what a peak!
The bell tower of Strasbourg Cathedral rises 46 stories into the sky (142 m). It held the title of “world’s tallest building” for two centuries. Victor Hugo described it thus: “It belongs to the family of spires which are open-worked stairways. It is delightful to wind about in that monstrous mass of stone, filled with air and light … which vibrates and palpitates with every breath of the wind.” He hastens to assure us that “there is, however, no danger.”
This photo, which I took from about three quarters of a mile away, allows us to see Victor Hugo’s open-worked stairways at each corner of the spire. It’s hard to believe his comment that there is no danger!
Our Lady of Strasbourg (Notre-Dame de Strasbourg) looks down from her throne above the main door and welcomes visitors to her cathedral. My favorite part of this photo is the stairstep line of lions batting at one another. These statues are probably copies. During the French Revolution, hundreds of statues were destroyed in the name of liberté and rational thought. And the bell tower was almost torn down as well.
This poor pony has his head in a bag! As one of the corner decorations, he’s suffering from exposure. Too many decades of fresh air.
Wednesday: We go inside. Really!
To read my latest blog posts, please click on the “Green and Pleasant Land” logo at the top of this page. Photos taken in November, 2011, in Strasbourg, France. Text and photos copyright 2011 by Clare B. Dunkle.
This weekend, I opened up my Rheinland-Pfalz bus-and-train circular and learned that the Reiss-Engelhorn Museums in Mannheim are hosting an exhibition that will run until late April dedicated to der Schädel. More than 300 items are on display: carved, painted, and revered by peoples from all over the world. What is the subject of this exciting and decidedly creepy exhibition? Der Schädel is a skull.
The doom and gloom of November is behind us now, and Advent season has arrived. All over the continent, thousands of Christmas markets are setting up: tiny ones in small villages and enormous ones in the great cities of Europe. This weekend, Joe and I took the train to Strasbourg, which proudly calls itself “Capitale de Noël,” the capitol of Christmas. This isn’t true, of course. The North Pole is the capitol of Christmas! But Strasbourg runs a close second.
On another day, we can talk about Strasbourg and some of the amazing and horrific things that took place there. But tonight, let’s wander through the streets and enjoy one of the most beautiful Christmas markets in Europe.
Here’s the refined facade of the Galeries Lafayette, the Macy’s of France.
And the tallest Christmas tree I’ve ever seen–real, of course!–in the Place Kléber.
As we walk through the city, we find that even the side streets are decorated.
Some of the decorations on the store fronts are traditional.
Others, like this gorgeous building near the Temple Neuf, are quite chic.
As we turn a corner, we can see that each street has its own style. Cathedral Square (Place de la Cathédrale) is up ahead.
And here we are at the heart of the Christmas market. The Cathedral, at one time the tallest building in the world for over two centuries, looms above and silently meditates on its own 572 Christmases.
Friday: Inside the Cathedral.
To read my latest blog posts, please click on the “Green and Pleasant Land” logo at the top of this page. Photos taken in November, 2011, in Strasbourg, France. Text copyright 2011 by Clare B. Dunkle. Photos copyright 2011 by Joseph R. Dunkle.
The German adverb mal is one of those highly useful, largely untranslatable words that foreigners can’t get right. Das Mal means time, and mal also has to do with time–it even means “times,” as in drei mal drei, three times three.
But when mal comes along with an imperative verb in a sentence, it’s often there to reduce what would be a stern command to a gentle suggestion. So, for instance, schreib mir (write me) might sound forceful, but schreib mir mal just means “drop me a line.” Sag (Say) and Gib (Give) are pretty abrupt orders and the sort of thing a small child might say, but Sag mal and Gib mal sound more acceptable–although these are all, of course, statements to good friends.
If you put mal in front of an infinitive, you once again create a gentle suggestion: “Let’s …” So, mal probieren — let’s give it a try. Or mal sehen — let’s see.
So you’re new to Germany, but you want to bake a real German cake. Or maybe you’ve wandered into the baking aisle at Globus, and you can’t figure out what half the ingredients are for. Here’s an easy coffee cake recipe Heidi taught me. The cake is called Tassenkuchen because it’s measured out in cups (Tassen) or Sprudelkuchen because it’s made with sparkling water (Sprudel). In this part of Germany, it’s a traditional weekend treat.
Everything is measured out in a cup. No, not a measuring cup–just a cup! Heidi used a big coffee mug because she was filling a bundt pan. I used the cup shown above because I was filling the pan you see. Just pick a cup and stick with it. This recipe is very forgiving, so don’t obsess. And it’s very adaptable. Almost every ingredient allows for substitution.
Prepare your pan with shortening and flour–or butter and fine breadcrumbs (the German way).
In a bowl, briefly whisk four small eggs for my size of pan or five large eggs for a bundt cake and
1 1/2 cups (YOUR cup!) of granulated sugar.
Add 1 packet of vanilla sugar (Vanillin-zucker), shown in photo, and
1 1/2 cups of nut meal. (Any mix you like of almond, hazelnut, or coconut meal–which holds moisture–or any other very finely ground nut. Include some nut pieces or coconut flakes if you like. German stores sell nut meal–it’s the bag with the white M in my photos.)
Add 1 cup cocoa (we used a combination of baking cocoa and hot cocoa instant mix),
Mix with electric beater.
Then add 2 cups flour,
1 packet of baking powder (Backpulver), shown in photo,
1 cup vegetable oil (or softened butter, or a combination),
and 1 cup sparkling water (mineral water).
Mix again to blend.
Pour into your prepared pan, not more than 2/3 full. Bake at 160 degrees Celsius with Umluft (fan symbol on your German oven) or 170 degrees Celsius regular heat (top and bottom lines) for an hour, more or less, depending on your pan. Test frequently with toothpick or knife. Cool in pan for ten minutes, remove, and sprinkle with powdered sugar.
Done!
To read my latest blog posts, please click on the “Green and Pleasant Land” logo at the top of this page. Photos taken in November, 2011, in Rodenbach, Germany. Text and photos copyright 2011 by Clare B. Dunkle.
The other day, Heidi and I happened upon an entire professional football (soccer) team walking down to a game. Somehow or other, that incident brought us to today’s word. Der Schmaus is a feast–an especially tasty meal that is eaten with gusto. Die Augen are the eyes. Der Augenschmaus, then, is a feast for the eyes–or, as we Americans might call it, eye candy.
When I arrived in Germany, I had a heart-to-heart with passport control at the airport. What if I needed to stay past ninety days? He told me, and our conversation ended with the friendly warning: “Take care of this, or it will be bad.”
Yesterday was my ninetieth day in Germany.
So I spent the day registering for a residency permit (Aufenthaltsgenehmigung or Aufenthaltserlaubnis) at the county offices (Kreisverwaltung). But first, since I live in Rodenbach, I went to Weilerbach to the municipal (Verbandsgemeinde) offices to register.
Joe has a way to get around: a government rental car. I have a way to get around: my feet. Fortunately, the walk to Weilerbach is a pretty one. It gave me a chance to capture the textures of autumn. Lots of berry bushes along the way: red, yellow, orange, purple…
In Weilerbach, I filled out the residency form with the help of the very nice office ladies there. Fortunately, my German is pretty good because on the phone or in person, no one spoke English to me. This is official stuff, and German is the official language. If I were filling out forms like these and didn’t know German, I would take a bilingual friend along.
I needed a passport photo for my residency permit. The key-making shop at the Weilerbach circle (by AWG) makes passport photos, but he was closed for lunch. So I went home and walked back later. Once more over the little bridge:
If you’re going to stay awhile, Germany wants to know you have your own income and insurance. So at the county office in Kaiserslautern, Frau Meyer scanned my passport and insurance card, Joe’s paperwork, his pay stub, the new passport photo, my Weilerbach registration form, and my fingers. They collected a fee. And now I’m a legal alien. My papers will be mailed from Berlin. Doesn’t that sound like a line from a Le Carré thriller? Starring me!
But I realized I had left my coat at the Weilerbach office. So, back through the woods…
It was a beautiful day for a walk.
To read my latest blog posts, please click on the “Green and Pleasant Land” logo at the top of this page. Photos taken in November, 2011, in Weilerbach and Rodenbach, Germany. Text and photos copyright 2011 by Clare B. Dunkle.