Spring-time, for Nik-ki, in Gerrrrmaneee...

Spring is finally here! Wow, what a dark (if not particularly cold) winter. And yet now all the buds are budding and blooms are blooming and it's actually still light outside when the bells start their frenzied ringing at six o'clock. The air smells wonderful, and I'm sitting here with my window open, enjoying the fresh breeze... it feels like it did when I first got here and all was golden and bright. :) Gosh, so this is why people in northern climates like spring! (In Arizona, we cower in fear of the impending summer.)

Here's an example of the tender buddables...

Some daffodils jostle each other in front of the house. Don't they just *look* busy?

People enjoying the weather on a Saturday in Mannheim's main shopping area...



And other (more edible) evidence of the season change...

My cilantro plant! And a fresh vegetable stew

Mm, the contents of the fridge sure have changed in the last month or so. See the tortillas on the third shelf there, Matt? And the bottle of Herdez in the door?

Others around here are excited about spring, too. A Sunday or so ago -- I think it was March 18th -- there was this funny little celebration in one of the neighboring villages, called Forst. Apparently, the townsfolk get together every year for this Hansel Fingerhut Spiel in order to "burn down the winter." This means that everyone gathers on one end of the village's main street to witness several figures perform a mini play/ritual, who then pick up and march down the street in order to repeat the show at various points throughout the town (so that everyone who isn't inclined to follow the whole caravan on foot can still have a gander). I am told this is supposed to drive away the winter. Here's as much as I understood of it:

Two guys walk around inside these big cone-shaped costumes, one of which is made of straw (apparently, the Winter figure) and one of which is covered in vines and living green plants (Spring). They're entirely hidden under these cones, except for a narrow window through which they can 1) see and 2) stick a wooden sword. The latter is for the occasion when Winter and Spring "fight".

First, they face each other and intone this taunting chant: a rhyme where each stanza appears to end in something like "Hallalalein, der Winter [or Sommer, depending on who's doing the taunting] ist fein". Then, sufficiently crazed with rage at this incindiary slander, the two cones lumberingly advance on each other with menacing little wooden swords. A few clacks, and then a judge of some sort -- that is, a handsome young man wearing a medieval costume and holding a stick -- intercedes and proclaims that Spring has won.

After this, another young man appears wearing a costume made of colorful rags. But it's his head that draws the most attention: everything from the neck up -- including hair, ears, and eyelids -- is absolutely covered with oily black paint. He is Hansel Fingerhut, the carefree do-nothing who mooches off the vintners' winefields and chases after their daughters. He runs around the (now placated) cone guys, singing another song about wine. At the point where he elucidates his taste for vintner's daughters, he pounces on a female in the crowd and plants a big oily black kiss on her cheek.

I was unaware of this part of the play. I was just standing there with my umbrella and staring intently -- attempting to make sense of all this "Hallalalein" business -- when suddenly this oily rag-wearing man ran at me with alarming intent! Unable to flee back through the crowd, I pulled my hood up over my head and squealed, "Bitte, nein!!" but to no avail. He yanked my hood down and I got a cheekful of black grease. Yum! Thanks, Hansel!

You can see the nose, lip, and chin imprints

Poor Hansel eventually gets taunted by a barber or something, though, who then does his job badly and kills the sooty-faced young ruffian in the process. But not before Hansel chases another young man dressed as a pretzel-selling girl. I didn't really get all of it, to tell the truth; and Bert -- baffled East German that he was -- had no idea what these crazy provincial people were up to. But we thoroughly enjoyed watching the pile of straw (a stand-in for the hapless Winter cone) create a hot blaze in the town square at the end of the whole Spiel.

The three other characters, accompanied by Winter and Spring, mourn the dead Hansel.

Welcome Spring, indeed!