For those of you who haven't attended your french courses lately, the title reads, "It's August, we must be in Germany." It's an odd thing this translating of one's name into a foreign language. I mean, can't the place that named it set the tone for the pronunciation?
For example: Braunschweig. That's the name in Germany, where the town has been for oh about 800 years. But on a french map of Germany the town is called Brunswick? Okay that's an easy one. Where is Ecosse? I just told you Allemagne, which apparently prefers Deutschland, and to which I have always know it as Germany. Where would you file it in the phone book? When you are reading the driving instructions do you just assume that the name on the map which is vaguely similar to the name on the road sign means we turn here? It was a little tricky...
We went to Germany to see two young, beautiful and brilliant kids get married in the same church exactly 25 years later after the bride's parents. Nice touch Julia and Kyle. The whole event was marvelous. They come from international families. Kyle's Swedish relative (Suedois if you are living in France or Franc if you are German...) arrived to wish him well, as did the rest of his American family, including his 89 year old grandfather, who was Kyle's best man. Julia's parents, who grew up in adjoining towns in Germany hosted quite the international guest list made up of Americans, Swedes, Germans, and we were the two from France.
On Thursday night there was a Polterabend, a party where the guests have to break porcelain dishes before they can greet the wedding party. I threw my plate and cup with gusto. It's bad luck if it doesn't break, and it's bad luck to break glass, but good luck to break porcelain. The challenge then is for the happy couple to clean up the mess, despite the interference of those pesky relatives, and without smacking each other with broom or a shovel.
The excellent hosts had made available things to do for everyone on Thursday and Friday. Pat went to the Autostadt, the home of VW and it's brands. Then, on Friday evening, there was an American style rehearsal dinner with people speaking English, German, Swedish and yep, a little French and eating german food like sauerbraten and potatoes and drinking pilsner bier.
Then the big night. The wedding was in German, so I am not sure Kyle knows what he signed up for, but after the ceremony, like in the states, they come out to a cheering throng. Then, as they are showered with rose petals and coins (not rice because of the birds) they then encountered first a flower covered jump rope which they had to step over, and a huge graffiti filled sheet. The goal here was that they have to cut out the design and then the groom carries the bride through the whole in the sheet. More problem solving and teamship building skills.
After a billion photos, they rode away in a flower covered Jag, 1950s era I think, and we met at a beautiful reception hall. But before they could go in, they had to saw through a log, using the same saw that many previous Buch couples had used in the past. I think it was recently sharpened.
Julia's father, following tradition gave a wonderful speech about the courtship of his princess and the challenges that he set out for Kyle. There wasn't a dry eye in the house. Julia's grandfather belongs to men's chorus and they came singing beautiful love songs. Someone in the group read a beautiful poem about the two kids, and family and the future, and said it was written by Julia's Grandfather, who thought he couldn't deliver it without breaking down in tears. We all just sobbed.
The meal was fabulous and was followed by a singing puppet show and a rock and roll band! There was also, instead of the garter or the bouquet toss, a veil pull for the single gals. That's right. They all dance around Julia until the music stops and then pull on her (I hope already cut) veil. Whoever gets the largest piece is the next to be married...or so goes the tradition. Then the bride and groom cut the cake, no smashing...and everyone danced for another hour or so. We were so tired we couldn't see straight! Let alone read those German road signs! But boy was that fun.
