Carnival

Searching for an explanation for the festivities currently consuming Eindhoven, Wikipedia gives a rather sanitized version of what we have been witness to these past two days –

“Carnival is a festive season which occurs immediately before Lent; the main events are usually during January and February. Carnival typically involves a public celebration or parade combining some elements of a circus and public street party. People often dress up or masquerade during the celebrations.”

Nicely put. It also involves copious amounts of Bavarian beer, consumed openly and with gusto from the crack of dawn. Furthermore, Carnival seems to involve the liberal placement by publics works personnel of ‘relief’ centers, 4-station open urinals. Think of a giant plastic collection tank with four funnels on top at each corner. Discretion, I guess, is not part of Carnival. There’s one in front of a McDonald’s in the outdoor mall and another next to the post office down the street. Hey, who cares about privacy and that stiff, open breeze when you really, really gotta go. I wonder how they lift the tanks back on the truck. I’ll have to get up early Sunday morning to find out.

I’d like to see the local municipality’s pre-Carnival organization department's ‘to-do’ list… “Hang festive banners between light poles in the old square – CHECK” … “Assemble crowd gates along parade route – CHECK” “Drain urinal tanks and re-position across town – CHECK”…

The “public celebration or parade” seems to be one and the same. Wading through the crowd to get a ‘good’ spot to catch some of the floats, Scarf and I found ourselves next to a group of giants. They wore 70s costumes which looked like they were sewn from my mother’s polyester blend curtains. Predictably, they sported oversized afro wigs and staggered out of line in leopard skin platform shoes. Their chain-smoking female companions, looking like they just spilled out of a nightclub, were equally fetching in their ill-fitting nurse’s uniforms. With unquenchable thirst, they drained their beers in between belting out nationalistic ditties, like “Brabant”. Strategically, they had also positioned themselves within 8 feet of one of those urinals. Obviously, these folks were Carnival veterans.

For an hour, we stood in the cold and watched giant floats lumber past, the first one, of course, celebrating the very reason for Carnival in the first place – beer-drinking. Except that it’s not – like the raucous Mardis Gras in New Orleans to the pancake feast on Australia’s Shrove Tuesday, Carnival and its other international versions is supposed to be the last big indulgence before the traditional fasting of Lent. Or something like that. But, back to the parade – lots of confetti, silly string, projectile candy, and stocking-clad, tap-dancing 6-year olds (why are they in every parade?) Finally, hunger prevailed and we were able to peel the kids away with promises of waffles, hot chocolate, free toys and a visit to Disney Paris.

The day before, their school dispatched crossing guards to close off several area roads, and the costume-clad students skipped around the neighborhood in their parade. Hanieka was “Pippi Longstocking” and squealed uncontrollably when she saw me aim my camera. Sawyer, a pirate (again! – same as Halloween), shuffled past with the uplifting “you forgot to give me the hat.” The teenager in him is making appearances every now and then. Can’t wait. Here are shots of Pippi, and, the one above, Sawyer today in Eindhoven, complete with parade detritus.

Germany

We woke up slowly yesterday morning, grumbled at the rain outside, shrugged our shoulders and decided to drive to Germany, for want of something better to do. Ahh, Germany, the great “pick-me-up”!

The weather here can be a bit of a downer and, after my parents called to remind me that they were truly dying from heat over in Australia, and after trying to watch another Prime Example (a bad American movie – they seem to ship volumes of them to unsuspecting non-native speaking countries, ‘fixed’ with altered sub-titles), we stuffed pancakes down our throats and hit the road. Following our TomTom precisely (“turn around when possible”), we by-passed Aachen, and decided on Cologne. I vaguely remember a pretty big cathedral there on one of my fly-by European visits a couple of decades ago. Being a typical filthy backpacker then, I had no money and spent the day ‘sightseeing’, which consisted of hanging out in whatever protected me from the elements – church, visitors center, Hare Krishna restaurants – and as I recall, in Cologne, Germany, it was this one big, gothic cathedral. No wonder the Germans hated me.

Happily, they seemed to have warmed up a bit. I’ve got cash this time, so I can actually have a beer with my $2 French fries. Having something like 22 breweries here, it would be criminal to turn to another beverage when in Cologne. We wandered the streets, bought some Eau De Cologne, admired the architecture and noted two outstanding landmarks. The magnificent cathedral was started way back in the 12th century, houses the remains of the Three Wise Men, and is the single most compelling reason why people visit this part of the country (it’s really pretty industrial otherwise). Actually, the whole reason for Cologne’s existence is that some Duke or Bishop-like Duke stole the bones of the 3 Wise Men from Italy about 1,000 years ago and decided to set up the ultimate medieval “tourist” destination. With pilgrims flocking in from all over Europe, there was plenty of cash to build the giant Cathedral and the tourism continues to this day (got my money too). If I ever become Executive Director of some Economic Development Agency in a rust belt US city, my first brilliant idea will be “How about we steal some sacred bones!”

I remember my first visit to Germany – East Berlin, actually, in 1989, when the wall was crumbling down. There, in a giant cherry picker, was none other than David Hasselhoff, blasting away in a ‘free’ concert. I’ll never forget what he was wearing – a leather flight jacket, covered in flashing, giant, light bulbs. Soon as he started ‘singing’, the lights flashed to the beat, reducing the hursuited one to a human Christmas tree. I thought I had seen it all, in life, then another ‘first’ in Cologne…. feeling humbled, a little overwhelmed, and somewhat emotional after some sad news from home, we strolled around aimlessly, until we found Cologne’s other outstanding ‘landmark’ – this, from the menswear department of a Macy’s/Myer’s equivalent. It just can’t be beat… maybe there’s a poster of David Hasselhoff somewhere, modeling this kind of underwear.

Viva La Paris!

We’ve been debating this for two days now and it’s really starting to nag me – what’s the most famous ‘thing’ in the world (‘thing’, from my imaginative 8-year old daughter). How does one answer such a question (is this where I’m supposed to start a poll?) Some of the answers that came from the back seat of the car included the Statue of Liberty, the Lincoln Memorial, Uluru, and this gem from Sawyer, “Hawaii!” The question comes hot on the heels of a visit to two well-know ‘things’ – the Eiffel Tower, and the Mona Lisa. Both in one big, blusteringly cold day in Paris, which started from a relative’s apartment on an island in the middle of the Seine River – directly opposite the Louvre Museum. Does it get any cooler than that? Crossing the bridge, in search of breakfast, me wowing the architecture (Simon was wowing the $300,000 Bentley convertible that passed us; Sawyer was into the cacophony of car horns that is SO Paris, and Hanieka was eye-balling a chocolate croissant out front of a bakery), the Louvre was just minutes from our front door. As far as museums go, I think this is the grand-daddy. All 650,000 square feet of it. Rotating 35,000 pieces of art, the Louvre has the ability to reduce you to an insignificant spec. It really does take a good week and a half to see everything, and then some. Our visit was exactly the day before the one day of the month when it is free to visit, so naturally, we didn’t have the crowds that it is also famous for. Checking my coat, bag and, yes, Scarf, we set out for some serious foot stomping, making a bee-line to Mona, as does about 95% of everybody else. I knew she was small, but not THAT small. I’d like to say that I stood and stared at her, contemplating who the sitter really was, what the hell she was smirking about, but really I was more interested in getting a shot of the kids in front just right, and of the crowd, who were also snapping away. As just so happens, a Japanese tour group, always good value, gave me plenty of photos ops. Later on, feeling like a cultural misfit, I wandered back without the camera and really looked at her, and felt like a spec (again).

We had grandiose plans of walking all the way over to the Eiffel Tower, but even a crepe and coffee stop couldn’t push us that last kilometer and a half. So, a hybrid taxi took us the rest of the way and we began the 40 minute wait for a ticket on the elevator. I’m not really a tourist any more, and I certainly have never had a stomach for heights. With 9/11 in the back of my mind, we made it to the top where I wanted to vomit. I had Scarf with me, and wrapped that poor thing up over and around my head and neck. It was pretty cold and windy, and I swear that that iron behemoth was rocking back and forth. I’m sure the view was spectacular, but I was busy having a fit.

So, the answer to Hanieka’s question: La Gioconda (as Mona Lisa is known in France), is visited by about 6 million people a year. The Eiffel Tower – people PAY to go up there!! – is climbed by approximately 6.7 million a year. Lady Liberty loses hands down – she’s been closed to visitors since 9/11. Lincoln Memorial? Well, he’s open 24 hours a day and is free. Uluru, a stiff climb even for fit-twits, garners only a half million visitors a year. Hawaii, on the other hand, has in excess of 7 million a year. So, Sawyer was right- again! Hawaii is the most famous ‘thing’.