01 January 2008 -- Season's Greetings

I've already bored you quite enough with my tales of Israeli labor disputes, so I'll keep this part of my post brief. Suffice it to say that the strike ended on December 13th, more than two months after it began. Whether adequate benefits were achieved is open to interpretation, but most people would say NO!!! (albeit with varying numbers of exclamation points). What did I gain from the strike? Well, I now teach six classes -- including five different "preps" -- and because of my "special status," I will see no salary increase this year. It seems as though I finally have a reason of my own to strike. To the streets!

During the week before our return to school, I went on a long-awaited trip to visit my great friend Elaine, who was coming to the end of a fellowship year at RWTH, an elite technical university in Aachen, Germany. It was an amazing experience (my first in Deutschland), both because I got to spend time with an old buddy and because I imbibed a healthy dose of holiday cheer, German-style. The Christmas markets in Aachen and nearby Köln, which you'll see depicted below, are polychromatic, highly caloric, merriment-laden yule-fests. They are situated in the beautiful and historic central sections of each city and are easily enjoyed on just a few euros.

The presence of so much Christmas-y kitsch was not the only way I knew I wasn't in Israel anymore. First, I heard a lot more German spoken than I do during a normal week in Haifa, but I kind of expected that. The prevalence of tallness and blondness was not a surprise, either. Early in my stay, though, I did notice a physical distinction I hadn't predicted: moustaches. Israelis' approach to facial hair is generally all-or-nothing, but Germans seem to have a predilection for built-in upper-lip-warmers. Come to think of it, my upper lip was pretty cold when I was there. Perhaps they're on to something...

Germany also seems to put more emphasis on the timeliness of public transportation and the ubiquity of recycling receptacles. There is probably less English signage in Aachen than in Haifa -- but, then again, it's a bit easier for the average traveler to glean some sense from written German than from written Hebrew. Surprisingly, I saw nearly as many shwarma stands there as I do here, though in Germany it's called döner. I even had a falafel sandwich one day, but it just wasn't the same. Sadly, the smoking situation in Germany is no better than in Israel. Will the world never learn?!

My return to Israel was by no means an escape from the joys of the season, as you might have expected it would be. Since Haifa has a significant Christian Arab population, certain neighborhoods boast more than a smattering of colored lights and Santa-related goodies for sale. Furthermore, the Festival of Festivals is a Haifa tradition that celebrates Muslim, Christian, and Jewish holidays throughout the month of December. Beyond the novelty factor of hearing "Silent Night" in Arabic, there is a sense that this is what coexistence could look like if it were given a (non-)fighting chance.

I wish all of you a terrifically titillating 2008!

This is one of the entrances to Aachen's Christmas market. You can see the old Rathaus (town hall) in the background to the right; some parts of it date from the time Charlemagne chose this little outpost to be capital of the Holy Roman Empire. The two inflatable gingerbread men represent Aachen's signature confection: printen (a spiced cookie-like comestible often covered in chocolate).

These are the central doors to Aachen's medieval cathedral. According to legend -- or, as I call it, history -- the Devil came to town during construction and offered to help. In return, he demanded the soul of the first being to enter the completed church. As ol' Antichrist waited inside for his payment, the wise Aacheners brainstormed a solution. They released a wolf into the edifice. After a brief struggle, the frustrated Prince of Darkness excised the wolf's soul, stormed out of the church, and slammed these doors so hard that his finger was caught. You can still feel the diabolic digit inside the mouth of the lion on the right. It seems to have fossilized into a metal bolt, but nevertheless I totally believe the story.

Elaine and I are an even cuter non-couple now than we were at Swarthmore!

Apparently, Germany has a big problem with promiscuous root vegetables...

This is Germany's pride and joy: the Kölner Dom. It is profoundly impressive, but it needs a serious bath.

This golden reliquary, given the most prominent place within the Kölner Dom, contains the bones of the three Magi. During times of pilgrimage, it is opened to reveal the remains. I was content to look at the pretty box.

Virtually every public rubbish repository in Germany is divided into four sections: glass, packaging (which includes pretty much all kinds of plastic and cardboard), paper, and "waste." These folks are serious about sustainability. If only attitudes could be exported...

I visited the Chocolate Museum in Köln. This was my favorite part. You guessed it: FREE SAMPLES!!!

In one Christmas market, I came across these guys playing carols on those long-ass alphorns. (Insert witty Ricola-related comment here.)

This is German efficiency at its most benign: electronic real-time street signs that indicate the number of parking places remaining in different lots around the city. Kind of cool, I guess, but perhaps they're overdoing it. I can just imagine the argument between old German spouses about whether to risk trying the garage on Adalberstraße -- whose eight free spaces might be swiped within the 90 seconds it takes to get there -- or to play it safe in the Büchel lot, which has a whopping two additional empty spots. One thing is clear, though: If you settle for Eurogress, you're not even trying.

Especially perspicacious blog-readers may note that this doesn't look much like Germany. They'd be right! You're viewing Haifa's version of the Christmas market, the Festival of Festivals. Enjoying this multicultural gathering is a welcome counterbalance to hearing news reports of Gaza incursions and Qassam rocket attacks.

Yes, this is exactly what you think it is: chestnuts roasting on an open fire -- in the middle of an Arab neighborhood in Israel. Holiday warmth knows no borders.