Thursday, December 31, 2009

"Dinner For One" on Day One

This 10 minute cabaret cult classic is a huge New Year tradition in German-speaking countries.
The 1920s movie is unheard of in the rest of the world, including Britain, where it originates.
But every New Year, just after the stroke of midnight, turn on the TV in Austria and there it is.
And in English, too.


Enjoy... Dinner For One



Hainburg, Austria, on a foggy New Year's Eve

Dog's Eye View


The Schlossberg is too shrouded in fog to even see it today. But this was taken in better weather. That's Remi looking through a lookout. And presumably singing about it.

Thursday, December 17, 2009

Roasted Chestnuts, Snow, a Bewildered Peruvian



More on the Christkindlmarkts of Austria.
I like the Spittelberg the best. In the evening, all lit up, it's gorgeous. And lots of locals sipping gluewein.

A Peruvian friend teaching in Slovakia had her first ever sighting of snow this week. She said she was surprised by it--expected it to come down in huge snowballs, not little weensy flakes.

I showed her around the Christkindlmarkts, trying to show the authentic Vienna. She looked at a few stalls and asked why there was so much Peruvian stuff for sale.



Monday, December 14, 2009

Views of the Weihnachtmarkts




Edge of the Spitalgasse Christmas Markt,
one of the best in Vienna


The Christmas Markt on Mariahilferstrasse,
Vienna's "Fifth Avenue."




I had plans to meet a friend in Vienna tonight so I went into town a little early for some light Christmas shopping. No malls. Just street shopping and Christmas Markets (Weihnachtsmarkt).

Too bad the photos here don't have aroma included--since they don't, just imagine the smell of cinnamon. Okay, now hot fudge. And now lightly sugared waffles. And further down the stalls: roasted chestnuts, hot punch and gluewein. It's enough to make me fall into a sugar plum stupor.

After the markts I wandered over to meet my friend, where we sat on stools drinking hot chocolate and staring at the biggest minorah I've ever seen (and beautiful). And... wait. In Vienna! Maybe all hope for the world is not lost.


Friday, December 11, 2009

The North Pole of Austria


A few years back, Sir George the Black Cab and I lumbered on over to the Christkindl post office in Styria (a region of Austria) to see what all the fuss was about--why so many little kids were sending their letters to Santa Claus there. I wrote it up in the Baltimore Sun.


Copyright Patti McCracken


Christkindl, Austria--It is a tiny little hiccup of a place. The wee dot that it is on a map shows not even the faintest squiggly line of road going there, and thus, it takes a resident to guide foreigners to the exact spot.

No problem, he says. Go up the mountain, then left, left and right. He pat-pats the hood of the car for emphasis and sends the foreigners trundling up the mountain. No problem.

Grown-ups may find themselves losing the way, but the children of the world have never had a problem finding the hamlet of Christkindl. Tagged "the Noth Pole of Austria," it is--of course, it must be--the place where Christkind lives.

Christkind is the ancient figure of the infant Christ who, at the chiming of the church bells on Christmas Eve, adorns the tree with ornaments and, with the help of angels, brings along presents.

The letters begin
This place was named for a miraculous healing that allegedly occurred here nearly half a millennium ago, but nobody can say when the children's letters began arriving in Christkindl --100 years ago, maybe longer. Austrian children just began sending their wish lists here, and the mail for Christkind began to pile up.

More than 50 years ago, Austrian postal authorities decided to do something about all of this unanswered mail and set up a makeshift post office in a church building to answer the 40,000 letters Christkind was getting each December.

That was in 1949. Since then, the word has spread across the world that this is where the giver of Christmas presents lives, and the number of letters each Christmas season has reached more than 2 million.

Inside Christkindl's Weihnachten postamt (Christmas post office), Postmaster Alfred Steinbach has grabbed a fistful of letters from the back and is spreading them on a table in the front room. A few very young onlookers have gathered around.

"We get letters from all over the world," says Steinbach, and he begins to list the far-off lands. "We get letters from all across Europe, Canada, USA. We get them from new Zealand, Japan, South America."

So awed is one little eavesdropper that he can't help but repeat the list to himself as Steinbach names place after place. "New Zealand, Japan, South America," echoes the boy barely above a hush. He is outfitted in a stocking cap with earflaps and looks more Norman Rockwell American than he does Christkindl Austrian. He's one more kid at Christmas.

Myths merging
In recent years, there has been a merging of myths, but Christkind is not, by definition, Santa Claus or St. Nick, Austria's patron saint of children. He could be considered a relative or an ancestor of both.

Austrians are dismayed at the swiftly blurring lines among Santa, St. Nick and Christkind. The images are flowing together, even at the Christkindlmarkts. The markets, in Germany and Austria, operate in wooden huts from Dec. 1 to Jan. 6. They specialize in Christmas fare, offering mulled wine, roasting chestnuts and nutcrackers--along with more signs of Santa Claus.

"There are no images of Christkind anymore. It is all Santa Claus," says Gloria Aust, a university student who lives in a small town near the border with Slovakia.

A few years ago, a former divinity student named Philip Tengg formed a society called Pro-Christkind, trying to fend off the incursion of Santa Claus.

"It's nothing personal against Santa Claus," Tengg says, "It's just that Santa Claus isn't Austrian--here, it's St. Nick and Christkind. When Santa and his reindeer show up, they are reminders of commerce instead of an impetus to worship."

In recent weeks Pro-Christkind set off a debate that reached all the way to the United States when it distributed stickers showing a crossed-out Santa Claus. Angry and offended, letters poured in from the United States and elsewhere, and Tengg issued an apology that was reported by the Associated Press.

"In our zeal," he said, "We neglected two things: that there are people in the world we live in who believe in Santa Claus and for whom Santa Claus represents an important part of Christmas; and that we have actually expressed something completely contrary to what we wanted to express."

Wish lists
Here in Christkindl, the Weihnachten postamt considers all letters to Santa Claus, Father Christmas, St. Nick or even the Poles' Jezuskowo as letters meant for Christkind. Open only during the holiday season, the staff of 18, working 70 hours a week, makes certain that all letters are answered.

But impatient children don't write letters--they dial numbers. "Some children call us on the telephone," says Steinbach. "The number is in the telephone book." He shrugs. "They want to know what he looks like and when he flies, where he puts the parcels."

In this age of robotic toys and virtual games, what kids want seems to be the sort of things they've always wanted. One girl from Italy says to please bring her a dog, and an American girl tops her list with a Princess and the Pea Barbie.

Steinbach said it is mostly the German and Austrian children who are forgoing toy requests and asking Christkind for something he cannot carry in his bag: "Many are asking the Christkind for their not to be a war."

Christmas Eve is the day of celebration in Austria. After being locked out of rooms and shooed away by parents all day, a moment will come when a bell is rung just after dark, signaling the instant at which children are not only allowed, but expected, to burst forth into the previously forbidden room.

And there the Christkind's handiwork will be, in the room, in the decorated Christmas tree, in the presents. How did that happen? It won't matter then whether it was Santa Claus, Father Christmas, St. Nick or Christkind. It just won't.

Tuesday, December 08, 2009


I'm not sure how I feel about buying a bag of "Negro"


Sunday, December 06, 2009

Crabby Krampus



Krampus frightens a woman while St. Nick watches, (presumably helplessly?) through the window.















Krampus is the devilish figure who travels with St. Nick. He is more or less equal to a parent's threat of switches and coal on Christmas if kids misbehave. To be clear, he isn't part of St. Nick's entourage.

On the night of December 5th, European children leave out a shoe for St. Nick to drop a treat or a small gift into. But Krampus is the downside to St. Nicholas holiday, when men in the villages dress up like Krampus, donning creepy masks and loosely wrapped in chains.

The chains are supposed to ease the minds of those around him--as in, he can't really hurt you because he's in chains.

Nonetheless, most everyone prefers the less threatening and much tastier chocolate Krampus.

Merry Cough Up A Lung Christmas

Stopped by an Adventmarkt yesterday, which had been set up inside an unused storefront on Hainburg's Main Street. They were selling ornaments, candles, homemade jellies, all to benefit cancer research.

Ironically, I had to leave because I couldn't tolerate all the cigarette smoke.

Oh, Europe. When will you learn, luv?

Wednesday, December 02, 2009

Will Work For Absolutely Nothing in Return

To the non-initiated, our emails in the world of freelance often are something like this: appeals to write for various upstart websites (sometimes actual magazines) but buried deep within the letter, or on reply, it comes out that no one has any intention of paying for anything, but only want you to provide original content for the sake of this exciting new venture. I'd rather walk barefoot across hot coals, followed by a stint with my head in the oven, but that's just me.

I've been known to send back blank .doc files with the "content" they've been waiting for. When the editor responds that nothing is in the document, and to please re-send, I write back and tell them that the words magically appear when payment is offered.

I rather like the blank .doc thing I do. But I like this one even more--this British freelancer uses pie charts, illustrations, practically animated video to get his point across, which is deliciously ill-received.