Giving Thanks

Germany doesn’t do Thanksgiving like we do in America.

German Thanksgiving: No. German Black Friday sales: Yes!

There is an Erntedank, or, harvest thanks, but it’s just that—an early fall festival showing appreciation for the earth’s bounty, not a folkloric tale of cross-cultural unity or, like most American holidays today, an opportunity for a sale.

Ignoring America’s cross-cultural contamination on that latter point, I wanted to offer up my gratitude on this day celebrating family, community, and circumstance:

• I am thankful for my husband’s support of my “indefinite work sabbatical” so I can explore my surroundings, write this blog, and work on my fiction.

• I am thankful for the love and support of my family and friends, and the technology that enables us to remain a constant part of each other’s lives.

• I am thankful for the folks I’ve met over the past couple of years from more than 15 countries, who have helped educate me about the experiences of real people in a world that before was always “over there.”

• I am thankful to now volunteer for an organization providing rapid response for refugees.

• I am thankful for secure surroundings and the health of my body and my mind.

• I am thankful for a good education and the experiences it has led me to find.

• I am thankful for the freedoms I enjoy, won both by soldiers of foreign wars and domestic soldiers for social equality.

• If you’re still reading, I am thankful for you. Whether or not you know it, you inspire me to keep taking on new challenges and trying to find interesting ways to share it all with you.

• Finally, and most importantly, I am thankful that—even though we sometimes forget—we are all in this together.

Beer

Winter has settled in firmly now, but for most mornings in recent weeks the air smelled of yeast, like all of Munich’s breweries were doing a big push for the dark and chilly days ahead.

Bavaria is largely considered to be the home of German beer, for good reason. Nearly half of all German breweries are in Bavaria, and the Reinheitsgebot (so-called German Beer Purity Law) originated here.

April 2016 was the 500^th anniversary of the law,
which spread from Bavaria to all of Germany

The Reinheitsgebot limited the ingredients of beer-making to barley, hops, and water (yeast was added later once its role was understood). The original goals of the law were to regulate beer prices and reserve wheat and rye for use by bakers.

Recent challenges have led to some exceptions, but for the most part, anything labeled as “beer” and produced in Germany must abide by this law. 

And Germans love their beer! (Although as of 2015 they were fourth in the world in per capita beer consumption, behind the Czech Republic, the Seychelles [!] and Austria.)

One thing I noticed immediately when we moved to Munich was that nearly on par with the love of beer is the love of the Biergarten. They are literally everywhere. In fact, the larger of the two parks closest to us has two.

This website has
a map of  100+ of the
city's beer gardens.

Many Biergärten still follow the original tradition, in that you’re allowed to bring in your own food, even if they serve food there. (But before you pack your picnic, make sure you’re visiting a Biergarten and not a Wirtshaus, which is an inn, guest house, or restaurant that serves food as part of their operation!)

These days there are six major breweries in Munich: Augustiner (est. 1328), Löwenbräu (est. 1383), Spaten (est. 1397), Hacker-Pschorr (est.1417), Hofbräu (est.1589), and Paulaner (est.1634). I haven’t done any brewery tours in Germany because I’ve done so many in the U.S., and the basic process is the same.

But I did visit the Beer & Oktoberfest Museum recently, thinking I’d gain some unique historical or cultural insight. Instead, I got a useless summary of beer production in Bavaria, a gallery honoring “beer barons” of the past, and two-and-a-half floors of Oktoberfest memorabilia. At least the museum itself is in the oldest house in Munich, so there’s that.

More than 2,500 people attended the craft beer festival in May

Earlier this year, NPR did a story on beer in America, which noted the monumental influence of German immigrants on the making of beer. More than a century later, the craft beer movement has been continually innovating on that process to take beer in new directions.

As the world grows smaller and beer competition grows larger, the options here may expand significantly. That's good news for a tepid fan of beer like me.

A handful of craft breweries exist in Munich, and this spring we went to Munich’s second annual craft beer festival, with vendors from all over the world catering to a very eager audience.

At the Hofbräuhaus , regulars keep their mugs
in special lockers, with their own sink to rinse them out

Last year’s anniversary of the Reinheitsgebot has prompted some to question if, after half a millennium of restriction, innovation in German beer has stagnated, and the adherence to “purity” will be its ruin.

Given its popularity at home and abroad, I think it’s too soon to start sounding any death knells for German beer. Besides, if history shows us anything, it’s that a surge in innovation is usually followed by a surge of nostalgia.

As for me, I’ll save the beer and Radler (my go-to drink--a mix of beer and lemonade) for warm spring weather. 

We’re about to enter Christmas market season, and I hear Glühwein calling my name…

Keeping the Faith

Yesterday I woke up to news of a mass shooting at a church (Sutherland Springs) and massive greed (the Paradise Papers). These days, it’s hard to have faith in humanity when humanity has so little regard for itself.

Thankfully, I had already planned a getaway.

I was headed to Kreuth, a Bavarian village that, since 1442, has hosted a procession on November 6 honoring St. Leonard, patron saint of horses.

Single riders were
interspersed with
horse-drawn carriages.
This rider began the procession,
holding a flag of St. Leonard.

For me the trip was less about the saint, of course, and more about honoring tradition and a “simpler” way of life.

The train pulled out of grey, rainy Munich but when we hit the Bavarian countryside, it was snowing. 

On the bus ride from the train station to the town, I was surprised to hear the pre-recorded bus stop announcements being made by a child. It all set the stage for a wondrous day.

Of course, nothing is ever so idyllic as we imagine, but watching neighbors greet each other as they found their viewing spots on the main road, and children chase each other with snowballs as we waited for the parade of horses and wagons, was pretty close.

Most of the wagons were wooden, with wooden wheels. They held members of traditional local clubs or societies.

During the entire procession, you heard the jangle of 

the bells on the horses. There were also two wagons 

with bands in them. Here's a snippet of the first 

(and then my phone died).

Thankfully, I was able to carry that peaceful feeling with me as I shivered in the bus hut for 45 minutes past the departure time, which made me miss my original train, and my phone (with my train ticket on it) died twice.

And the feeling stayed with me as I left the winter wonderland and returned to a gloomy, chilly Munich and set about the mundane tasks of grabbing a late lunch, picking up packages, and planning the rest of my week.

Sometimes we just need a reset to remember what’s important. Whatever it takes: patron saint, snowy scene, tech timeout, walk in the park, etc.

Today is an election day for some places in the U.S., and I hope my fellow Americans take a moment to reset / restore / renew their faith in themselves. 

But even beyond today, it's important to remember it takes a moment to bring us down, but it can also take a moment to bring us back up. And each of us, no matter where we are or where we come from, need to have faith in the importance of what we say, what we do, and the legacy we leave behind us.