Hope you all had a great Easter. Mine was pretty damn good. Here in Germany you get both Friday and Monday off for Easter, so I guess that kind of makes up for no Thanksgiving. Being as Thursday last week was Friday, Steffi and met some of her colleagues at a beach bar after work. The bar is typical to one you might find at a resort except there is no body of water. It is a giant sand lot in the middle of the city. The open air bar is lit by bonfires and tiki torches. So after a few hours of chatting it up we moved across the street to a club because Steffi needed to dance. When people started to peel off from the party, it was decided that I would head for home, while Steffi continued to “dance it off” with some of the other diehards. Shortly after leaving the club I found a nice dirt parking lot to throw up in. I marked the time and the date as my first time, since being back in Germany. Within minutes I stumbled across a Doener laden and had a nice post-party Doener (kind of like a gyro but not really). I eventually found the U-Bahn station after receiving some incredibly complicated instructions from the Doener man and made my way home.Friday was dedicated to recovering from my hangover and later that day we visited Timm, Steffi’s bro, in the hospital. Earlier in the week he had some kind of nose reconstruction. A year or two earlier a policeman hit him in the face with a billy club at Castor demonstration (protest against nuclear power). So this was a scheduled surgery to make things right again. From there we continued onto Steffi’s moms where I worked in the garden for two days. I cleared some brush, President Bush style, and also cleaned out the pond which was an absolute pain in the ass. There was about a foot of mud and roots at the bottom. I had to pull it back like a carpet and cut out small pieces with a hatchet. My hamstrings have never ached like they have for the last couple of days. They feel like two oblong river stones lodged in my legs.
Anywho, Sunday night was the Easter fire in Steffi’s village. Osterfeuer as it is called is when the farmers and residents bring all the wood they want to get rid off to a field. They pile it up so it’s larger than a two-story house and then on Easter Sunday, after dousing it with gasoline, they light it on fire. The reason for the fire is it is a place to cast one’s demons but Steffi says they mostly do it because they like to set stuff on fire. There is always a competition amongst neighboring villages who has the best fire. A week before the Osterfeuer the village teenagers keep watch through the night making sure the fire isn’t prematurely set by a rival village. All of this is done while drinking heavily.
The boys did a fine job looking after the wood pile and on Sunday evening the fire was lit on schedule. The fire was well attended. Most of the village turned out not only for the fire but also the 1 Euro bratwurst and beers. The volunteer fire department was also there all suited up. They were the group at the bar, in the corner of the makeshift shelter, throwing back the beers. I even saw one fireman bottle feeding another. This is how I describe one fireman drinking a beer that is held by another fireman. After the flames receded to a small inferno some of them made their way to the fire truck and took off. Later, I saw an older man in his early 70s singing loudly to the oblivious crowd, swinging his beer around. “Oh the Burgermeister, is here,” Steffi said. I had heard he wasn’t doing well recently and had been diagnosed with cancer. Aside from being somewhat tipsy, he looked in tip top shape. Steffi told me there was a scandal with the Burgermeister last year. Apparently, he made an appearance at a birthday party and ended up staying and getting really drunk. Later that night people saw him kneeling on the sidewalk talking to a stray dog for longer than what is considered normally acceptable. Of course in a small village such news travels like wild fire. This, however didn’t prevent the people from reelecting him and continuing his 40- year reign.
Towards the end of the night I ran into a friend who organizes the Osterfeuer every year. I think he has a pretty good shot at being the next Burgermeister. He has his own business, something to do with green energy, and he is very personable. He was telling me he was hoping to get his driver’s license back this year. The cops tried to pull him over for speeding but he took off. With a smile on his face, he told me it took them 15km before they could catch him and when they did they were “stink sauer.” He gave me a look that suggested somewhat surprise at the policemen’s reaction. I have to say he’s a pretty cool cat. After catching up and drinking beers and schnapps with him, I found Steffi talking to some old school chums. We all found a nice vacant leather sofa before the mound of burning ash. Steffi continued her conversation, catching up on the village news and I looked at the stars. The night was clear and warm. After a half hour or so we headed back to the house through the dark forest.
Steffi and I met up with a few friends for Saturday’s tugboat ballet. We found a nice spot on the hill overlooking the Elbe. The event started at 5pm and lasted a full hour. About ten tugs and one fire boat took part in the performance. The fire ship, I was told, with its water cannons open, was décor, like a tree on, a stage. The tugs rocked side to side and drove back and forth in sequence and even did a couple of pirouettes to the classical music being played to the crowd. The audience drank their beer and clapped at the appropriate times. 
