Sylvester

I have been asked time and time again, by Americans and Germans alike, why I didn't go home for Christmas. This single fact seems to appall people, as I am spending the best holiday of the year away from my parents. There are two reasons why I did not go back. The first, and most important, is that I signed a contract stating that I would stay here all year, living in Germany until the day we all return home. However, even if I had not signed such a contract I believe I still would have chosen to stay here. One of the most important factors of an exchange trip is learning to understand your host country's culture and traditions, and what better way than to live through all the holidays with them. Holidays are cultural magnets, and are celebrated completely differently in each separate country. Christmas, therefore, was quite an interesting time to be in Germany. I got to experience the Aachen Christmas Market, received gifts on the 6th of December (apparently America is the only country that doesn't do this), and ate pretzels (this is apparently a seasonal thing.)

The Aachener Weinachtsmarkt

    

 Christmas wasn't all, though. I was invited to a New Year's party at the home a friend's host family. We were the three Americans watching curiously as the Germans celebrated. New Year's is called Sylvester (or Silvester) here in Germany, and is the main fireworks holiday of the year. In fact, it might be the only day on which you can buy and use fireworks without a special permit. 

     I'm getting a bit ahead of myself, though. Before the fireworks comes the food. As the guests arrived in the afternoon we were treated to cakes, cookies and printen squares accompanied by coffee, hot chocolate or -for the kids- soda. This is a very common occurence in German parties, where cake always comes first. At any birthday party you will be given your choice of multiple cakes long before dinner. It is polite to stuff your face. When dinner came around the fifteen or so of us that attended the Sylvester party seated ourselves along a long table laden with different food, including potato salad, two types of pasta salad and cheese-stuffed meatballs that the Americans helped to make. The main course was incredible pork that makes me drool to this day. Needless to say, we all ate far too much. Beer was, of course, served to everyone with dinner. As I find the taste rather too strong for me, I sipped at mine, but mostly stuck to my cola. The beer at this party was being served out of multiple kegs stationed in the kitchen. After the meal they were available to everyone, and were quickly emptied.
     My friends and I retreated downstairs after dinner, only to be called back to the table a while later for 'Zuckerhut' (literally translated: Sugarloaf.) I thought this was a ridiculous name, as 'Hut' means hat in German. Not knowing what to expect from the supposed 'sugar hat' my friends and I walked into the dining room to witness the single most alcoholic thing I have ever seen. In the middle of the table sat a copper pot filled halfway with wine (I saw it being filled while rolling meatballs; my friend's host father uncorked and poured two bottles of wine into this thing.) The pot sat upon a fondue burner, and a cone of compressed white sugar was suspended over the pot on a little grate. We all watched as My friend's host parents brought in a bottle of rum, which they opened and began to ladle onto the sugar. After a certain amount of rum soaked the cone they pulled out a match and lit the whole thing on fire. They then continued to ladle on rum, eventually giving the task over to their fourteen-year-old son. This continued until the sugar had completely absorbed into the rum and melted into the wine. (They later had to figure out how to stop the wine from burning, as it was alight with bright blue flames and boiling madly.) The American teenagers were allowed a little bit each, so I can report that the creation was tastier than normal mulled wine. However, I don't really know enough about the alcoholic effects except for the fact that we were watched carefully while sipping our concoctions, and that the adults at the party seemed quite happy after the whole rum-sugar-wine-burning ceremony.

Watch that sugar burn

Cheers

     After that we had a few hours before midnight. Naturally, my friend and I decided that we should try out some of our fireworks, since we had an insane amount stashed in his room downstairs. We filled our pocket with smaller fireworks and grabbed a couple bottle rockets, only to be stopped by the Germans, who seemed appalled that we would begin fireworks early. The celebration was, apparently, for midnight only. Starting early would be a crime. They had a hard time explaining this, however, since we are both pyromania-inclined Americans who had a giant pile of fireworks to go through. Eventually they convinced us, and we waited until midnight.
     I wish I could describe the beauty that was Aachen, Germany at the turn of the year. We all stepped out of the house to witness the largest quantity of explosions I have ever seen. All along the horizon, seperated by inches of sky, were fireworks. They completely encircled us, and seemed to go on forever. Muffled booming came from each direction, and the sky was lit up with all the different colors of this year's firework selection. I have come to the realization that this is only really possible on New Year's Eve as any other fireworks holidays (such as the US' Fourth of July) happen throughout the entire day, meaning that each specific firework show goes off at a different time. As a Californian who has never seen backyard New Year's fireworks, I was in heaven.  My only regret is that I didn't have the foresight to climb the local hill with my camera, as a panoramic view could have been spectacular.
     The final thing I'd like to talk about is unrelated to my experience of Sylvester, but is rather a German tradition of almost inexplicable origin. Germany has somehow acquired the tradition of sitting down on New Year's Eve and watching 'Dinner for One', a British, black and white comedy sketch that no native English speaker has ever heard of. I watched it myself early on in the year to be able to understand the weird quotes I've often heard Germans reciting, always with funny British accents and a great deal of seemingly unreasonable laughter. Dinner for One is actually my main proof that Germans -do- have a sense of humor. If they didn't, why would they laugh so hard at someone saying 'thank you very much, Miss Sophie'? The sketch involves a very old woman who is celebrating her birthday. Her tradition is to invite her best friends to eat a birthday dinner with her but they have all died, leaving just her and the butler. It is never explained if she is blind, senile or just a very good sport, but the butler plays the role of all the other guests while Miss Sophie acts as if her friends are still eating dinner with her. Humorous high points include the butler tripping over a tiger rug an obscene number of times and the butler failing to trip over the rug one time. The most disconcerting thing about the German fascination with this sketch is the quoting, which continues all year and generally happens without cause. Sometimes my host family and I will be eating dinner when my host dad exclaims "Same procedure as every year, Miss Sophie!" and bursts out laughing. This is the one tradition I don't think I will ever understand.
An explanation of the tradition: Here
Watch the Video: Here