Fasching (Or Patsy's School Goes Crazy in a Really Cool Way)

Thursday, third period, French class. 10:00 a.m., the last day before Faschingsferien ('Fat Tuesday Vacation'). The class is discussing something in French that I do not understand; I am quietly doing Soduku at my seat, the easy kind that gives you so many numbers that you hardly need to do any counting and the like to find the answer. Even so, it's taking me forever to do it, as my host father could not drive me that morning to school, which meant that I had to take the Bahn, which meant that I had to wake up at 6:15. Suddenly, loud music and a shrill, annoying whistle like the kind at the sports events I generally avoid tear me cruelly from my Soduku-induced stupor. The door flies open, people are dancing and screaming and singing past the door. The other girls in my class get up--they know what's going on--and head for the door, only to rear back, sputtering, as handfulls of confetti are thrown in their faces. We all take this excuse to get out of French class and those grammar exercises as quickly as we can; there's a stampede to the door that immediately turns into a cool, upperclassman strut as the head to the Sporthalle, or gymnasium. All the mess and noise--balloons, confetti, lauging and shouting and the shrill shrieks of excited fifth graders--makes me turn to Jasmin, the friend I am doing my own upperclassman strut next to, and she quickly assures me that "this is normal". As two little kids--fifth or sixth graders, they have to be--push between us in order to get into the best spots (aka one where you can sit), she gives me a world-weary grin and says "Welcome to Germany".

Of course, I have been living in Germany for the past five and a half months, but that has yet to prepare me for the celebration of Fasching, or Fat Tuesday in American English, Pancake Day in British English. As I look around the gym (a fire hazard if ever there was one--german Sporthallen are smaller than american ones, as the schools here have no sport teams, bleacher-less, and at this moment filled with confetti, helium-filled balloons, and some 700 students and teachers with only one exit) I see the celebration, and the costumes (everything from nuns to devils to prairie girls and cowboys) and wonder if my exchange year hasn't been moved to New Orleans without anyone telling me. Well okay, New Orleans minus the beads and topless people (not to mention everyone's speaking German). Even though Fasching is not even officialy until next Tuesday (I'll be celebrating with Edit, a friend from Hungary) this school was all decked out, as if it was tonight.

That said, it was a lot of fun. The students (the 12th and 13th classes were in charge) got the teachers up to the stage to sing kareoke Maroon 5 and to strut for St. Dominkikus' Next Top Model (yes, there is sadly a german spin off of this show, as well as Deutschland sucht den Superstar--fondly abreviated to DSDS--which is the EXACT SAME THIS as American Idol, except in German, duh), as well as spoof some kind of quiz show I'm not as familiar with. They threw candy into the crowd and played loud music as people danced around and applauded the antics (even Cotton Eye Joe! I had a homesick moment for Rallies--oh Mechuwana!--but no one even knew the dance so the moment passed). And then, at the end--freeeeeeeeeeeedom! (Or Freiheit in German) Vacation! Ferien! For a whole week!

I for one will be enjoying with without the confetti.


Here's some extra fun:

To Mom and Dad

This is for all the times that they laughed at me when I was silly, held me when I cried, listened when I spoke, yelled when I talked back, cried with me when everything was falling apart, tried when I wasn't willing to help, played with me when I forced on them my foolish games, told me to sit in a chair and 'think about it', asked me what my day was like, wished with me whenever I dreamed, believed for me when my dreams were broken, supported the crazy things I did or wanted to do, rolled their eyes when I was an idiot, made themselves available even when I didn't want them to, nagged me about things that I still believe weren't important, kissed me when I made it, hugged me when I didn't, drove me to the weirdest places at the weirdest times, pretended with me when I danced around, celebrated with and for me whenever I did something worthy of it, pushed me to do all that I could even when I didn't want to, nosed into things they shouldn't have, cared about what I did (or tried to), and were just einfach there for me.

This is for my wonderful, admirable, amazing, astonishing, astounding, awe-inspiring, awesome, brilliant, cool, divine, dynamite, enjoyable, excellent, extraordinary, fabulous, fantastic, fine, incredible, magnificent, marvelous, miraculous, outstanding, peachy, phenomenal, pleasant, pleasing, prime, remarkable, sensational, staggering, startling, strange, stupendous, super, superb, surprising, swell, terrific, tremendous, unheard-of, wondrous and absolutely insane parents, who on this day (aka in 4.5 hours), the 14th of Februar have been married for a long and (hopefully) happy 20 years. Give them a hand, everybody. I love them, and you all just have to deal with it.

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