Christmas is on Like Donkey Kong

Concerning most things in our little family, I am usually the staunch voice of reason.  No, we cannot travel to Bern, Switzerland to adopt a Bernese Mountain Dog.  No, we are not eating peanut butter and jelly for breakfast, lunch and dinner…and almost always I am the one poo-pooing Christmas excess.  Every year, like Charlie Brown, I spout off about the true joy in giving, keeping Christ in Christmas and the ever-present need to keep striving to live simply.  This year, though, feel free to tell me I’m full of crap, because I’m not holding back on our first Viennese Christmas.  Which means my Clark W. Griswold-esque husband has also been given free reign.  You should feel fortunate you’re likely separated from us by an ocean at this point because our Christmas is going to be magically nauseating to the casual observer.  And how can we help it?!?  We live in Vienna.  When the gorgeous days of Summer are gone and the last of the Autumn Sturm has been drunk, there’s nothing left to do but Celebrate Christmas for the next two months.  

Now, you know in the states how everybody has an opinion about the proper time to decorate the tree and start listening to Christmas music?  (Or how my husband regulates my egg nog consumption...) It usually has something to do with respecting the Turkey—saving some celebration for our nation’s tradition of giving thanks for the harvest…or for a day off from work and the opportunity to watch football.  Either way, most people are quick to point out to anyone exhibiting early Christmas cheer that Thanksgiving comes first.  

But not here.  Obviously.  The Austrians could care less about our ‘interesting’ relationship with the Natives and how happy those pilgrims were to have a chance of survival in a foreign land.  Forget the turkey.  Christmas here starts in November and no one is going to give you a hard time about it. 

The city that I have come to know and love is starting to change.  Most outdoor cafes have finally called it quits.  Green garlands, twinkle lights, Saint Nicholas and the devilish Krampus have all been out in full force since the end of October.  And now, those delightful wooden booths are starting to crowd together all over the city in preparation for what Vienna does best:  Christmas.  There are nineteen Christmas markets in the city that are all opening within the last two weeks of November and I’m determined to visit them all.  Luckily, I also have a good friend here of the same mindset, who is crazy enough to accompany me.  Sometimes being a stay-at-home mom has perks…like getting to drink Glühwein while perusing the stalls of Viennese Christmas Markets.  

I’ve been to three markets so far this weekend and I’m absolutely charmed.  By far the largest and most well-known market is at the Rathaus (city hall) and we joined the masses Saturday night to celebrate the opening ceremony.  Our group was made up of three families with six kids all-together and it was an absolute madhouse.   I am glad we got to see the impressive display of lights (each enormous tree in the park had it’s own themed lights; hot air balloons, hearts, traditional lights as big as my head) not to mention the plumed ponies and the 120 year-old spruce Christmas tree that was finally lit after an hour-long ceremony.  Obviously, this was a big affair…and a fair bit of Vienna turned out for it.  In an effort to escape the smothering crowds, our group wound up in a back alley (behind the booths) eating wurst, drinking punsch and letting the kids run circles before we found a patch of grass to let them loose in.  Despite the crush, it was honestly an absolutely lovely evening.  All those people we jostled against on our way to find punsch were there to see something that was just legitimately good and to join in the festive spirit of Christmas.  For our part, we got our fill of holiday cheer and a chance to spend time with good people and kids the girls love—Christmas Market season started out as well as one could hope.

And this is just the start of the magic, folks.  Not only are there a ridiculous number of markets left to visit, but I have plans to turn our home into a disgusting display of Holiday cheer.  Sneaky schemes for Saint Nicholas Day are coming together and we’ve already gotten the girls a disturbing number of presents (to my taste—for all I know this could be how normal parents do Christmas)…and it’s not even Thanksgiving yet.  

So, I'm sorry, my fellow Americans.  I'm not just disrespecting the turkey this year, I'm throwing him under the ever-loving bus. If you were here, you'd do it too...it's worth it for the punsch.  

Jolly Old...Saint...Martin?

We've become accustomed to quite a few cultural differences since moving abroad, but now that we are coming into the holiday season, I'm beginning to realize that we Americans have got nothing on the way things are celebrated over here.  In the States, I've become used to the sudden and brief hubbub that is Halloween, then come lots of people grumbling about respecting the Turkey and once our Thanksgiving feasts are over, as a whole, we seem to leap wholeheartedly into Christmas or *insert appropriate December holiday here* in a fit of consumerism and holiday parties.

Now that we are in Europe, and more importantly, are close to people from a wealth of different cultures, there seems to be a new holiday we're nearly missing every day.  I attribute much of this to Austria's primarily Catholic population and the simple fact that the history here is older and richer than our comparably young nation.

Take for instance today; the 11th of November is Martinstag, or the feast day of  St. Martin--a Christian, when such a thing went against the grain of common society, and a Roman soldier stationed in Gaul, this saint is most notorious for one legend in which he came upon a beggar freezing in the cold and cut his military cloak in two to share with the man, thus saving him from death.  Later St. Martin dreamed the beggar was, in reality, Jesus who said of him: "Here is Martin, the Roman soldier who is not baptized; he has clad me."  Saint Martin's Day is typically celebrated with a feast, as it is meant to mark the beginning of the original 40 days of fasting for the advent period (which was later shortened to begin the fourth Sunday before Christmas). Dizzying isn't it?  Many festivities begin at the eleventh minute of the eleventh hour--complete with bonfires, a lantern procession and the singing of songs for St. Martin.

Queen of the lanterns...or something like it

Now, we haven't seen masses parading down the street with paper lanterns here, but there has been a lot of subtle celebration going on.  All week we've seen school kids around the city carrying their lanterns and a few of the shops on our street have been leaving lanterns outside their doors.  At Audrey's school they hosted a lantern celebration--a full-on show by the kids, touting their own lanterns...with real candles.  Just for the record, handing flaming lanterns to sixty kids is fairly brave in my book.  Luckily, everyone made it through with their eyebrows intact and poor Audrey survived what was, I'm sure, a future therapy session in the making.  Afterwards, all the kids met together in the garden and shared bread and oranges to commemorate St. Martin sharing his cloak.  That part at least could be categorized as fun.  Audrey shared her food with her friend, Coen, an absolutely charming little boy from Australia, and they even held hands all the way home on the train.  While we won't be making any bonfires or feasting on anything but leftovers tonight, we still had fun celebrating in our little way.    I'll keep you posted on the next holiday to pop up and bite me.  The advent season is chock-a-block full of them.  

Hallo-What, Now?

John and I have never really done a stand-up job of celebrating Halloween with the girls.  If anything, the holiday tends to pop up and smack us in the face.  We are usually ill-prepared and really only go through the motions so the girls will have some thread of a memory to recall when they're grown.  So, imagine how hard it is for us to get in the festive spirit when Austrians really don't even celebrate Halloween.  I spent four hours out of the house on the 31st. The only people I saw in costume were kids and teachers at Audrey's English preschool and the only jack-o-lanterns I spied were on signs at the grocery store announcing a one-day sale.  Boo! Austria!

In their defense, the pumpkin is indigenous to North America...the original Halloween festivities celebrated in Great Britain used carved turnips as lanterns...so I can understand not wanting to hop on that bandwagon.  Add in a healthy dose of disdain for American consumerism and I'm starting to nod my head--yes.  Of course these people don't celebrate Halloween.  But, that doesn't mean our family bowed out of the festivities.

First things first; Audrey's preschool was hosting a costume party...or as the Brits say a 'fancy dress' party.  Luckily, Audrey was both in costume and a fancy dress.  After much deliberation between Tinkerbell and Sleeping Beauty, the Princess won out.  Both Bailey and John were sick on Halloween (not that it stopped The Bear from running about the apartment in her Rapunzel dress for the bulk of the day) so I had the honor of dropping off Audrey at preschool.  As soon as we walked into her classroom, she was mobbed--MOBBED by little girls dressed as witches.  There had to be at least six of them and they all wanted to hold Audrey's hand.  She looked mortified, poor girl.  I knew she was making friends, but I had no idea she was inadvertently becoming popular.  This must be painful for her.  Apparently there was a big party and then lots of dancing in the gym.  Audrey said she danced with a boy named Kimo (don't tell John) and the teachers said she actually had a lot of fun and even smiled for some pictures.  So, being popular can't be all bad.

Our day was fairly tame after I picked Audrey up from school.  She was excited to be home where she could take care of the resident sickies and we eventually got around to carving some small 'pumpkins'. (they're really just squash, but they turned out lovely)  Luckily, John was on the ball with making sure the girls had some halloween candy (he is chief head in charge of purchasing sweets) and we all indulged a bit after dinner.  I think the only way we could've had a more tame Halloween would've been if we were all wearing sweater vests and discussing the weather.

I have to say one of the rare moments when I absolutely love the internets, though, was the next morning when I got to scroll through pictures of all the kids I wish were ringing my doorbell in their fantastic costumes.  I'm sure their mothers put more than 20 minutes into 'em at least. Happy (late/lame) Halloween! Eat some of your kids' candy for me, eh?