Karnivorous Behavior

For what seems like ages now, I’ve been struggling to write something of substance about Karneval. The party-to-end-all parties,¹ that raucous din that consumed the city with costumed bedlam for almost a week, surely I needed to write about that.

For me, Karneval fell flat. Karneval is party without purpose, festivity following no particular event or cause demanding celebration. For five straight days, Cologne brimmed with merrymakers drinking themselves silly with what sometimes seemed to be desperation. I’m told Karneval originated as a last hurrah before the Lenten season began. It was, I can only assume, an attempt to load oneself with such a vicious hangover that the puritanical proscriptions of Lent would be seen as a sweet relief rather than a restriction.

For the most part, Cologne today is a Catholic city in name and skyline only. The beginning of Lent does not herald teetotalling so much as the mixing of pain-relief medications. So what was everyone celebrating? If the desperation to eek every last drop out of those days did not come from the approach of Lent, then where? Given the maturity² of the average partier, I find myself entertaining depressing theories about German denial: a generation rejecting a two-fold truth: 1) Eventually, youth passes you by; and 2) after a certain age, no one pulls off the drunk tooth-fairy look. The spectacle was, on the whole, a little sad. It reminded me of a theme party in Claremont, but less fun, and with more anonymity, rain and wrinkles.

I suppose at this point a disclaimer is in order. I had fun at Karneval, and my negative opinion on Karneval only developed later. Like everyone else, I looked forward to it. I assembled a pirate costume from odds and ends and a few accessories bought for pocket change on the street.³ I went to parties and watched the parade. But a celebration is meant to… well, celebrate something. Karneval is the quintessential party qua party. I just prefer having cause for my revelry.

Take Meagan’s last visit. She arrived off the plane terribly sick, so rather than castle-hunting along the Rhine, as planned, we spent the weekend recuperating. Though we took in some sightseeing⁴, most of the weekend was spent on my couch.

I haven’t been that happy in ages.

Celebration is good. But the desperate groping for happiness uprooted from cause, well, I’ve found it wanting. If you want to enjoy Karneval, by all means visit Cologne, or Essen or Rio or Venice or any of the other cities where the festivities at this time of year are famed. But bring your friends. They’re what’s worth celebrating.

So much for Karneval. Next time: Dvořák.

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¹Well, until after Lent, anyway.

²Biological, that is.

³Actually, my costume has yielded a lot of compliments. I don’t know how I feel about near-universal consensus that I look better in a bandana, buckles and breeches than I do in modern clothing. Probably just further evidence, alongside the stodgy timbre of this post, that I was born in the wrong century.

⁴Including the hospital. Calm down – she’s fine, now. I had fun, actually. I’d never been in an ambulance before.

Diplomacy, the Musical

I have tried to keep the amount of this blog that is directly about my life to a minimum. My working assumption is that German culture and what it has to offer is more interesting than whether I am getting along with my Gastfamilie. I have been told, however, that this is a pretty funny story, so here goes.

We proud participants of the Parlementarisches Patenschafts-Programm (the German name for my fellowship) attended an event in Düsseldorf last Friday, which was charmingly referred to as a "Stipendiatentag." Germans rarely hesitate when it comes to the creation of new, very LARGE words, so I was hardly surprised to learn that they would conceive a word which means -- and this is the only definition, mind you -- "a party for recipients of a scholarship."

Along with the Cologne contingent of the PPP, many other international students were invited: Europeans, mainland Chinese, and students from various South American countries. We were informed of the existence of this event about a week in advance, and the Americans were encouraged to attend. Some of our number who are more musically inclined were additionally encouraged to prepare some sort of performance, in order to share our American culture with the group. Taking this simply as a suggestion, we did not think we were seriously expected to perform. It was clear that a performance would be appreciated, but I for one did not think it was by any means expected. The party was only a week away, after all. On Friday, as we rode the bus to the party, I spoke with Daniel, a fellow "PPPler" and future orchestral conductor, about what we might hypothetically perform, were this a serious event.

We soon realized our error: Germans do not take such important matters as musical numbers lightly. Immediately upon entering the party, Daniel and I were seized by the regional director. She asked us what we had in mind to perform for everyone there, perhaps 200 heads, as a "representation of American culture." Evidently, the purpose of this performance was an example of that "junior ambassador" stuff they keep talking about. We were to represent America. And were to do it in song. And we were on in twenty-five minutes.

Scrambling, Daniel and I came up with a plan. We quickly ran through which songs Daniel could reconstruct from memory, and then cross-referenced it with which of those songs for which I knew the lyrics. We then triangulated these results with a list of songs silly and campy enough that no one could mistakenly think Daniel and I were taking ourselves seriously.

And that is how I ended up singing "A Whole New World" as both Aladdin AND Jasmine in front of an international assembly.

All in all, I would have to admit it went rather well. I wasn't pitch-perfect, but I had fun, and Daniel came through masterfully on the keyboard. We were silly, we were schmalzy. And everyone laughed, which I guess is all you can ask for in such circumstances. The regional director was very grateful, and I received a number of compliments from both American friends and international students for a very amusing performance. So while the beginning to my ambassadorial endeavors may not have been conventional, it does appear to have been successful.