Oh, holy night

We arrived late last night in Nordhorn. This town is, to me, the center of German culture and civilization. I speak and read German all day at home in Düsseldorf, but other than linguistically, a big city is often just a big city, and if you painted over the signs and added a few more people in shades of brown, Düsseldorf could be America. Nordhorn is different. Nordhorn could never be anywhere but Germany. The homes are built like those of the very smartest pigs, of stone and brick, with a thin strip of grass and flowers running around the edge. The local radio station regularly broadcasts in the local dialect, Plattdeutsch, which sounds like a mix of Dutch and Hochdeutsch spoken by someone very drunk. People still practice fascinating regional traditions here: Unmarried men, on their 25th birthday, receive a long string to which socks have been tied; People go kegeln, which is like bowling except that there are 9 pins, the lane is (by design) not flat, and you play it while seated in a private room connected to your private lane and decorated like the interior of a 1950s station wagon; In the winter, large groups gather for klootschieten, which, as near as I can recall, involves taking turns throwing a lead-cored hockey puck down a road until you are falling-over drunk. Nordhorn was my first experience of Germany, and to me no other place could ever feel as wonderfully and authentically German.

I've surely mentioned this before, but German Christmas lasts significantly longer than American Christmas. I think that German-style Christmas may well be where the tradition in some American families comes from of opening presents the night of Christmas Eve. The celebrations will begin tonight (Heiligabend, 'Holy Evening') with dinner, church, and gift opening. Christmas then continues for two full days, during which we'll sing and go to church and meet friends and relatives and eat.

I was not familiar with German Christmas in its nutritional aspect when I first visited Roswitha for Christmas in 2004. I knew there would be a huge dinner, and I assumed that the practice would be similar to that in my own family when we have a feast; we often eat a big breakfast, then simply skip lunch so as to have room for a big late-afternoon dinner. So when I awoke on Christmas morning, I did what seemed natural to me, and ate until I was stuffed. Pretty much as soon as Rose's mom had cleared away my table, though, it was time for tea. 'Tea', in American English, is a bitter brown liquid. In German, the same word refers to a five-course meal consisting entirely of cake and cookies, all of which must be eaten if one wishes to make a good impression on one's hosts and future parents in law. Tea was followed by lunch, which is the main meal here and thus consisted of the roasted whole mammals and other delicacies associated with Christmas dinner. After lunch was 'coffee', which, like 'tea', means something different and more filling than in America. In my recollection, it was between coffee and dinner that we were allowed a short break consisting of an hour's walk. After dinner, presumably, was dessert, but I don't recall this portion of the evening. It's entirely possible that I passed out.

This Christmas is very special because it is the first time the Stürmers are spending Heiligabend at one of the children's homes. We'll all be visiting Rose's sister, husband, and darling new baby daughter. This is also a special Christmas for Rose and me because it's out last Christmas as a family of two. The Gummybear will be joining us in just a few more months; it's already very recognizably its own little person - with Daddy's nose - in its ultrasound pictures. This morning, when I woke up, I put my hand on Rose's belly and felt it dancing around. It's excited for what's coming in the next year, and so am I!