Oktoberfest (but the real one)

Coming from Portland, Oregon, the micro-brew capital of the world, I know good beer. We've got "Oktoberfest" which most bars misspell "Octoberfest", and my dad and I go every year to at least one. Of course we look crazy getting drunk in our German finery on the west coast of the States.

Being responsible Germans, everyone takes the S-Bahn to Oktoberfest, which is packed and doesn't run between 3:30 and 5 am, which can get you into trouble if you try an after party and miss the last train.

But you can traverse as many bars or outdoor festivals as you want, even coming from a place well known for beer, nothing can prepare you for the size and drunkenness that is the real Oktoberfest. I was lucky enough to have my dad come visit me for the last week of Oktoberfest, and I ended up there three days in a row. So what's it like?

Fun.

Well it's the size of about 3 state fairs stacked end to end. Split into two primary isles there's the north side with food stands, amusement park rides and several rotating bars (essentially yurts that serve alcohol and rotate like the top of the space needle--if that's not a bad idea for drunk people I don't know what is). And then there's the south side with all of the entrances to the tents. And if you're over 16 that's where you want to be.

The tents are all decorated differently but generally they're the size of airline hangers filled with picnic tables with a large, raised stage in the middle where a band is always playing, switching between ompa music and classic rock (the strangest combination, but this time I was prepared). These tents fill up at 11 am when they open, and stay full until they stop serving at midnight. You have to be seated to get a beer (this is a general rule for Oktoberfest. No walking around getting drunker, just walking around being drunk) so the seats can get pretty competitive. But if you're friendly you can usually get a seat for at least one person in your group. Then everyone gets served and you meet some great Auslanders (foreigners). The tables on the outside of the tent are all reserved, but the tables in the middle are first come, first served until they're full. At which they close the tents to new entrants.

So we use the term "tents" loosely, as they have two stories, bathrooms and hardwood floors.

And that is how I spent my first night at Oktoberfest, all dressed up with no way to get into a tent. You can sit outside at the Biergartens that some of the tents have (but not when it's 2 degrees Celsius). Luckily the next two days were better weather and we went early as to get seats.

We dragged my dad from the airport, home to change and then right to Oktoberfest, he was pretty tired by the end.

Arne had these all day and they drove Birgit (his wife) crazy. That was as hilarious as anything.

So after finally getting seats for us all, meeting some great Germans and foreigners, we drank bier. Lots of bier. It only comes in litters and you don't get a choice of types, you just give the waitress a number and pay. Don't confuse this with your "beer". Nope. Bier.

Unfortunately for me, dirndls are not the most comfortable thing to drink bier and eat salty food in. I ended up at home by 10 pm each night (leaving my dad and our family friend alone to bring great drunk stories home the next morning). It's enough to make a girl want to buy Lederhosen.

Then again, they make you look like this.

That last day my dad was having a LOT of fun

Photos courtesy of Birgit and Arne Franke. Because my camera was too expensive to carry around drunk.

We took this first... but it is technically the end.

An American am Boden See

So I moved to lake Konstance this week (a.k.a. Boden See). The family is new (obvs), the weather is cold and grey, the dialect is crazy, and the people are used to Americans.

Now most of the time in Europe I hide my American identity as best I can. If asked I won't lie. But waving an American flag, or telling everyone you're an American right off the bat is generally a bad idea when your federal government is about to default on its debt ceiling and greatly impact the local economy. Yep, bad idea.

Except for yesterday. Yesterday I was picking up my kid at the bus station when a 10 or 11 year old girl walked up to me to ask if her bus had already been by. I had forgotten the word for schedule ("Plannen") so I had to apologize for not speaking very good German, and when I explained that I came from the U.S.A. her whole demeanor changed. She got that really wide-eyed awe look that only children can pull off, and said "Oh! I love the U.S.A." and then promptly ran away.

So I guess not everyone hates Americans.

Oktoberfest, Visit from Dad, and the new family soon.

Castle Time

I forgot to show you Neuschwanstein! Woops! I went to what is likely the most iconic castle in the world a few weeks ago. This was my second visit, but seeing as it's been 17 years, it seemed reasonable to repeat the experience. The surrounding town is nice, if a little swanky and touristy, so if you want to go play Belle, plan on taking the whole day. The tour is short, and there's not a hell of a lot of detail, so if you happen to speak a language that is not German or English fluently it's worth it to go on the audio tour rather than the guided tour (the audio tour is not offered in German or English because the Universe hates you and assumes you are uninterested in a detailed history of every room). Unfortunately you cannot take pictures inside, so all I have is outside shots, but lovely still.

As seen from well below in town. I may have not seen this for the first 5 minutes we were off the bus until someone pointed it out to me... maybe.

Because it wouldn't be complete without a drawbridge

Waiting for a tour can be surreal, all of the tourists mingle together in the courtyard, lounging around the castle, finally using it the way it was meant to be used.

The inner courtyard

The horrendous view from the balcony

My traveling companions

The whole area is surrounded by wilderness, waterfalls, lakes, mountains, it's crazy

A more famous view of the castle, though my damn lens was just a little too big.

What Living in Europe Feels Like

Following my rejection from Teach for America I developed a defensive mechanism: I don't think about what I've left behind, or where I am or where I'm going. At least not too much. I try to just make simple plans and live my life, and deal with the issue right in front of me. In terms of leaving my life behind, having a bad experience with my first family, and missing my ride to Belgium, this works really well. Unfortunately it also dulls my awe and respect for living in beautiful Bavaria.

But sometimes I'm standing on a train platform, or running away from a thunder storm, or reflexively answering a question in German and the reality of my position becomes abundantly apparent. I'm overcome with this feeling of jubilation and elation. The way you feel when John Williams has been timed perfectly to the emotion of a film. All of the sudden I am completely aware of being in Europe, of living here, of being a German. I don't feel like a tourist, or like I'm just letting my life pass me by. I feel in those brief moments, great. And not in the common sense of the word, but in the Charlemagne, Helen of Troy, Jed Bartlett way. The Kings of Old way. I feel large and powerful and beautiful and clever and unique and perfect. I feel like the best version of myself and I doubt nothing. Then the last few notes of King of Anything or Chip on my Shoulder or Defying Gravity fade and the moment passes. Then I'm an American again, standing like a tourist waiting for a train in a country where we don't speak the language. Walking home at night feels strange again. The angst creeps back in on me. And I wait, for another one of those moments.

This is what it feels like to live in Europe. Or maybe this is just what it feels like to live.