Topziele

Today we successfully checked off two more items on the Oh-Shoot-We-Still-Need-to list by visiting two TOPZIELE (must-see activities) listed in our Schwarzwald-Sueden magazine. In the morning, we revisited the beautiful Baroque Kloster in St. Peter and took a guided tour of the Festsaal, the library, and the church. The knowledgeable guide, eyes a-twinkle, waxed fondly about the history of the monastery-turned-seminary, explaining how religion, geography, local politics, and Enlightenment progressivism intertwined with the paintings, architecture, and sculptures throughout the buildings.

Then it was on to the Vogtsbauernhofmuseum in Gutach im Kinzigtal. The museum is closed for the winter, but this weekend hosted a Weihnachtsmarkt. My main purpose in going was to see authentic Schwarzwald Bollenhuette, which Stefan insists translates as "round lumps hats," but which might be described more elegantly as "pom-pom hats" or "ball hats." We have only seen real Bollenhuette in action once, from afar, at the closing awards ceremony at the senior world roller figure skating championships. But we've seen photographs of them, most often on milk cartons, butter wrappers, and yogurt containers, upon which the Bollenhut logo proclaims "this quality product came from the Black Forest."

Bollenhuette are part of the traditional Tracht in Gutach. They feature a straw hat laden with wool pom-poms. Unmarried women wear red pom-poms; once a woman is hitched, she wears black pom-poms. The feminist semioticist in me has a lot to say about bright red blooms and deflowerings, but is restraining herself at the moment as this is a family blog.

We did not see anyone wearing a Bollenhut this afternoon, but we had a fine time nonetheless. Stefan helped Elias and Zoe basteln (make handicrafts) in a hands-on workshop, where the toys they built had little to do with traditional Black Forest crafts, but where the activity itself (basteln) was about as German as you can get. There is nothing more fun or wholesome for German kids--with the possible exception of soccer--than basteln. Stefan still has an impressive scar on his hand to proudly show for his own happy childhood basteln experiences.

We also enjoyed some Gluehwein inside an old farmhouse at the Vogtsbauernmuseum. Every available seat was occupied by friendly folk having a cheery time in the cozy, low-ceilinged, fireplace-smoke filled room. When newcomers locate an empty spot, they ask the people already sitting at the table "ist hier noch frei?" ("is this spot still free?"), and then squash in next to them to share in the general conviviality. Like basteln, this is a thoroughly German experience.

In the evening, we went to Elias's third grade class Christmas party. To the parents' delight, the children sang the Christmas carols they've been learning at school. According to the party line, everybody enjoys spending school time learning these songs because everybody is Christian--except for the minority Muslims, Jews, and atheists, of course, whom the system has yet to figure out a way to acknowledge.

First day of school

Elias began third grade today at the public elementary school on the other side of our backyard fence. He is delighted to have regular contact with other kids again. This morning, several kids from his two-week summer camp materialized as if from nowhere and said cheerful Hallos before disappearing again into the first-day chaos. Elias's teacher seems friendly and confident, and the classroom is bright, comfortable, and spacious.

Parents don't seem to do the same amount of hand-wringing here as in the U.S., and the teachers don't seem to be under the same autonomy-crushing degree of curricular over-prescription. No proof of vaccinations is required; administrators figure if the kid hasn't caught anything awful yet, he's good to go.

On Mondays and Wednesdays, school starts at 8:40 a.m. Every other weekday it starts at 7:50 a.m. On Tuesdays, it lets out at 12:10 p.m.; every other day it lets out at 1:00 p.m. "I've never had such a short school day!", Elias said brightly this evening. Oh dear.

What better way to ensure a good start to the year than walking over to the Evangelische (Protestant) church for a service? German schools alternate the opening service every year between Catholic or Protestant churches. Because these are the two dominant religions in Germany, and because they run well-organized ships, they have a constitutional right to help educate the country's youth (and to tax Catholic and Protestant citizens)--thereby ensuring they will remain the two dominant religions.

Tuesdays and Thursdays Elias will get 45 minutes of religious education. Elias can choose between Catholic and Protestant, but since the Catholic third graders are all preparing for first communion, the school recommends he go with the Protestant kids. Or he can opt out and do, I dunno, something else during that time. (Regarding this, the principal said, "it's very convenient that he lives so close to the school!"). The reasoning is that religion is so integral to German culture and history, it has to be taught in the schools for everything else to make sense. Wonder what German Jews, Muslims, and other religious minorities--including Christian ones--think about that. Probably the same thing Native Americans think about being taught Christopher Columbus discovered their continent. (Incidentally, we have a Freiburger to thank for America being called America rather than Columbia, but that's a story for another time.) Officially, Germany separates church and state; thus priests and pastors, rather than teachers, handle religious education in the schools. Oh dear.