A bunny with a facebook and other stories from FASTNACHT

 I have spent these past few days mostly resting from the debauchery that was my time at Fastnacht...the Louisianans and the Germans should meet up some time, I think they would throw a pretty great party together. I don't know if the world could handle that, though.

I left Berlin last Friday after work to catch a quick flight to Frankfurt and a brief train to Mainz to meet up with Chrissy and start the celebratin' (or festin' as would be more appropriate to say here, but Germans don't get the southern twang anyways). I knew it would be a good weekend when I plopped down right across from a weenie dog on the Sbahn to the airport :)

Friday night we met with some of Chrissy's work friends and headed to a party. I quickly donned my first Fastnacht look, that of a flapper girl with fishnet tights and a feather on my head. Probably my favorite thing about Fastnacht is that everyone is dressed up in outlandish costumes, every day, all the time. After 18 years of clamoring for shiny Mardi Gras beads to add festival pizazz to my plain clothes, wearing costumes made it feel more like a week-long Halloween than anything else. That night we encountered Scottish folk in kilts, the cast of Sesame Street, and what sticks out most in my mind: a huge scary bunny, who has a facebook page. At Fastnacht there is always something curious to look at.

The next day was focused on one thing, and one thing only: Americaaaaa. Chrissy can get herself and friends onto the American Military Base in Wiesbaden, complete with a food court of everything gross and wonderful about the US: Taco Bell and Popeye's. We nommed endlessly for hours. Free drink refills! Incredibly slow counter service! Delicious yet suspicious "Mexican" food! Red beans and rice and a biscuit! They import everything on that base from the US, huge SUVs in the parking lot included. For that brief sojourn I may as well have been back in America, and technically was, I think?

Sunday we went to the home of a very nice German couple and enjoyed a delicious homemade traditional lunch before heading to a parade in a small community in Mainz. (Side note: the husband greeted us wearing a shirt that said "Eat. Sleep. Karaoke." My kind of people.) In Germany parades are called zugs, which means "trains." How's that for German literalness? Lots of marching bands, dancers, and small floats whizzed past, throwing out candy and, in large quantities, bags of sweet popcorn. I was a "scary" bunny with the aid of hot pink tights and a furry mask - the scary part came because the gross bunny teeth fit right over my own when I smiled. Creepy.

After the parade we returned to the city to take in the festivities in the main square, which quickly turned into a huge outdoor dance party. We danced to German favorites like this. (I highly recommend clicking on the link and learning the motions to the song. So fun).

Rosenmontag is the Fat Tuesday of Germany, the day when it all goes down. We awoke early to catch the big parade going through town and spent the day just doing whatever Mainzers do...which seems to be mostly just wandering through the streets. I was a Native American and met many more...and got to take pictures with Cookie Monster (om nom nom!) and some nuns. The next morning I joined Chrissy at the home of a German family with two excessively cute daughters and watched her march in another small parade before heading back to Berlin. Whew. That's three parades in three days, lots of Taco Bell, and endless celebrating. I'm still tired.

What's better: German Karneval or Mardi Gras in Louisiana? The program would instruct me to say that one is not better, not worse, just different. To be honest, though, I had a great time at Karneval but found myself longing for the Louisiana traditions I've come to love: floats on 18-wheeler truck beds, catching armfuls and neckfuls of colorful cheap beads, King Cake. I guess we like what we know.

In recent news, I've had my last curry wurst for at least 40 days. Wanting a bit of a challenge, I decided to give up meat for Lent this year. Where better to do so than a country whose diet is centered around it? Wish me luck.

Amidst some lovely weather this week, Berlin's transit workers went on strike. I wasn't much affected, apart from being utterly confused and 45 minutes late to work one day. There was craziness on the tracks, though. Germans yelling in German is not so soothing to the ears. Now on to the weekend...