The Weirdest Christmas Tradition Ever

On Saturday a friend invited Dylan and I to go with her and her daughter to see Santa Claus in our neighboring village of Burlo. I was excited because it would be Dylan's first time seeing Santa (or, St. Nikolaus, as he is known here in Germany). I mentioned these plans to another friend and she replied:

"Oh yes, every year St. Nikolaus comes with Knecht Ruprecht, the dark-faced, scary Santa."

Huh? Why would anyone want to see a scary Santa? Doesn't Santa scare enough kids each year while trying to be friendly and jolly?

Here's what I learned: Santa comes each year not on Christmas Eve, as he does in America, but on St. Nikolaus Day (or around it), which is Dec. 6. St. Nikolaus looks a lot more like a Catholic Bishop wearing a Santa beard than "Santa Claus" and he is in charge of giving candy and small gifts to children who have been good. The naughty kids are dealt with by St. Nikolaus's travelling companion, the sinister Knecht Ruprecht, who looks a bit like the Grim Reaper and very out-of-place in the shot-gun seat on St. Nick's sleigh. A long time ago Ruprecht would whip naughty kids with switches, but now he just gives them a stick instead. I guess the German's take this "naughty or nice" thing pretty seriously.



Laugh all you want, this is totally for real.  This photo was taken from someone else's website because we couldn't get close enough to get our own (keep reading to find out why), but I can vouch that Burlo's St. Nikolaus and Ruprecht looked very similar to this.

My friend gave me the run-down on how this was going to play out.  Everyone (that is, kids from the local elementary schools and their parents) would meet at a spot in Burlo where a sleigh with Nikolaus and Ruprecht would come through and everyone would follow through the woods for a while until we got to a second meeting place.  There would be some music and songs, then St. Nikolaus would hand out candy and Ruprecht his sticks.  This all sounded well and good, but Dylan inserted his own idea's in to how the night would go - such as, throwing the biggest temper-tantrum in history and ruining everyone's evening.

He started out doing OK, but somewhere between the first meeting place and the second, he tripped and fell down and just couldn't recover.  Perhaps it was a combination of the cold weather (it was snowing), being bundled up and not wanting to walk (we were taking turns with the stroller since only one would fit in the car), but he quickly spiraled out of control.

Here is Dylan with his friend, Amy, shortly before the meltdown.  He is holding Amy's lamp, which all the children carried to light the way in the woods.  We need to replace the lamp because in Dylan's blind-rage it was destroyed.

As soon as the pageantry began at the second meeting place, Dylan fell apart.  I removed him away from the crowd of people as far as I could, but nothing would console him.  He didn't want to be held, he didn't want to stand/walk/run/play, he didn't want to be in the stroller, no food, water, or anything would help.  So I let him writhe around on the ground flipping and flopping all over the place, banging his hands on my legs, screaming and crying while I watched bewildered wondering "Whose devil-child is this, anyway?".  My friend came and found us and said "He sounds like a Gremlin.  Are you sure he isn't sick?"  Yes, I'm sure, although there were moments where I had to give him a really good hard look and make sure he wasn't actually having a seizure or something - it was that bad.  Here are some thoughts that ran through my head:

This is like a scene from The Exorcist. Is he possessed?
I hope Kristin calls me again.  Maybe next time I'll get a babysitter.
Is he seriously the only child out of 200 that is crying right now?  How is that possible?
We are never bringing him out in public, ever again.
If the guy dressed as Ruprecht had any sense of humor, he'd walk over here and give Dylan a stick for being naughty.

The program finally ended and it was time to go, although our car was parked about 1/2 mile away.  Dylan refused to go in the stroller (he slithered out of it) and wouldn't walk, so I had to carry him.  1/2 mile felt like 10 miles ... up hill ... in the snow (and the snow part was true!).  My arms were on fire by the time we got to the car.  Dylan, of course, was generally well-behaved in the car and went to bed immediately once we got home (all that freaking out really got him tired).

So the lesson learned from tonight is that Dylan is strong-willed enough to go to whatever means necessary to get what he wants, even if it is not in his best interest (he could have gotten candy, after all).  16.5 years until he moves out and goes to college ... and counting.

He was so happy while we were getting ready.  No visible signs of the future meltdown.

Here is Dylan in his long-underwear.  This photo will embarrass him when he is a teenager.

"Look Mom, it's snowing!  Can we go into a big crowd of people where I can throw the mother-of-all-temper-tantrums and leave you wondering if I am a Gremlin?  Can we?!  Can we?!!

Dylan und Oscar's erster Schnee (first snow)!

The day my parents returned home from visiting us, it snowed several inches. We stuffed Dylan into his snow pants and took him and Oscar outside to see how they like the cold weather. "Stuffed" is a good way to describe Dylan in his snow pants since they are at least one size too small and if he falls down he can't get up without help. When he fell in the stairwell heading up to the flat, he couldn't get up.  This prompted Bryan to say, 'Come on Ralphie!  Help me, Ralphie!  Wait up,  Ralphie!' before helping Dylan up.  I am pretty sure Dylan did not understand his Dad's 'A Christmas Story' reference.

Dylan likes the snow OK, although I don't think he really cares what the weather is doing as long as he can borrow our neighbor's soccer ball and play with it in the driveway. Sun, rain, snow - it doesn't matter. Whenever we go outside Dylan radars in on this ball, which is kept on the back of our neighbor's bike, and runs over to it shouting "Ball! Ball! Ball!" He subsequently throws a tantrum when it is time to go inside and put the ball back. I think I know what his favorite Christmas present will be this year...

My little "stuffed sausage."

"Dad, these snow pants are giving me a wedgie!"

Oscar, on the other hand, is crazy over the snow. Every time we go outside we let him off the leash in the driveway and he does the crazy dog run-around-in-circles thing, slipping and sliding everywhere and burying his face in the snow. That is, of course, until a snow/ice ball develops on his paw, which turns Oscar into an overly dramatic, limping wuss who whimpers and won't walk anywhere until we stop everything to wipe his paw off.

Oscar the crazy snow dog.

Snow at this time of year is highly unusual. Average temperatures for this time of year are in the mid-40s, but this week they have been in the high-teens.  Bryan calculated that in order to even the average, we are due to have about 10 70 degree day's in a row.  I sure hope that's true.

International Hotel de Foltice: Part 2

After two days of traveling to Münster and Amsterdam, we all needed a respite at home, especially Dylan who desperately needed a day or two with a normal nap schedule. So we spent our time Christmas shopping in Borken and having Thanksgiving, which was a bit strange since we were the only people in town (and the country) celebrating.

Dylan bonding with grandpa while watching Sesame Street.



The Dom Cathedral in Koln

 Friday was our day to go to the Christmas market in Koln, which is our favorite city. Bryan and I have spent a fair amount of time in Koln, including twice going to Karneval (German Mardi Gras) and visiting several other times for shopping and sight-seeing. Most impressive in Koln is the Dom Cathedral, a massive Gothic-style church that dominates the skyline.

Dylan had other plans for Friday, namely not traveling anywhere.  He was amicable during the hour-and-twenty-minute drive there, but once we got on foot he pretty much refused to sit in his stroller and was extremely "shrieky."  Ever since Dylan was quite little he has had the ability to create a head-splitting, blood-curdling shriek that will make your ears bleed and cause permanent hearing damage.  It happens most often when he is tired (or teething), but sometimes he seems to do it just for fun.  Turns out that on Friday he was both tired and teething, which made the shrieks that much more unbearable.  I got a lot of grief that day for forgetting to bring the baby pain medication.  I can name about 100 other things that I did remember to bring, but of course we would have traded every single one for a drop of infant-Tylenol. 

Bryan and Dylan with the Dom in the background.

Mom and Dad in front of the Christmas Market (Weihnachtsmarkt) boat.  We really wanted to go inside to warm up, but Dylan was too shrieky to go anywhere enclosed so we had to stick to the outdoor markets.

Mom, Dylan and Bryan.

Mom and Dad in front of market booths.

The main entrance to the Christmas Market.

We originally planned to stay until nighttime to see the markets under the lights (and miss traffic), but it was really cold and since Dylan's shrieks prohibited us from going inside anywhere we were chilled to the bone so we left early.  


The next night was Bryan's basketball game, then a babysitter came over to watch Dylan while we went out to dinner and to enjoy Borken's Christmas market in the evening.  It was bittersweet since we all knew that Mom and Dad only had one day left before going back home.

Bryan took Mom and Dad back to the Düsseldorf airport first thing Monday morning.  International Hotel Foltice is awaiting their hotel service assessment and will tell you the number of stars we receive for future guests to look at. 

We went to eat at a local restaurant called Kaffeeklatsch.  Somehow the waitress was British so we didn't have to stumble through ordering like we would have in most other places.

Enjoying the Borken Christmas market.

International Hotel de Foltice: Part 1

Sorry for the month-long absence from blogging. I'd like to say it was because I was just so busy that I didn't have time to write, but it really was the opposite and nothing too interesting happened until last weekend. The beginning of November was consumed with planning, cleaning and organizing for my parent's coming to visit, which meant we didn't really do a lot of extracurricular activities.

Alas, on November 19 my parents hopped on a plane and made their first overseas journey to visit us, becoming our first official guests at the International Hotel de Foltice. They were to stay for 10 days and we had a lot on our itinerary. Details of our escapades will be split into two posts.

Here is a  map of the main places we visited with my parents.  The orange dot in the middle is Borken.  The purple dot just to the left of Borken is Winterswijk.  The blue dot to the right is Munster.  The yellow dot on the far left is Amsterdam.  The pink dot near the bottom is Koln.

Although they left the US on Friday, they did not arrive in Dusseldorf until Saturday morning. Bryan set off in the big van to pick them up while Dylan and I got some fresh German pastries for breakfast. Day 1 for them was very low-key, since they had been up for 24-hours travelling and still had to make it to 9:00 p.m. Germany-time before they were allowed to go to bed.  This is the best way to force yourself to adjust to a new time zone.  We went on a long walk around town, stopping at the park for Dylan to run and helping them get acclimated to German village life.

Dylan holding his grandma's hand at the park.  He was so excited to have two additional people to entertain for a whole week.

Grandma and Grandpa smuggled on the plane some of Dylan's toys that we had to leave behind, like this car steering wheel.  He was so excited excited to get some toys back, it was like his birthday all over again.

On Sunday, we were planning on touring 2 or 3 nearby castles, but Bryan said that someone (he couldn't remember who) told him that Winterswijk, Netherlands has a good Sunday market.  I said numerous times that didn't sound right - no one has markets on Sundays here because nothing is open on Sunday.  Truly, the only establishments open on Sunday are about 1/3 of the bakeries and restaurants in town.  Everything else - grocery stores, retail shops, etc. - are all closed, so a Sunday market is really odd.  He insisted that his information was solid, so we all piled into the van and headed for Winterswijk, a 20 minute drive away, only to find the city a virtual ghost town.  No market, nothing open.  Doh!  We rerouted to Gemen, a suburb of Borken, where there is a nice moated castle that is now a hostel and were at least able to tour one castle before all of us were ready to head back home.




In front of the Schloss Gemen on what was probably the warmest day of the whole week.

 Monday was our first real travel day, where we took a daytrip to Munster.  Bryan was able to show off his office and the University and while he worked for a few hours, we did some shopping and enjoyed Munsters first day of their Christmas markets.  Bryan joined us at lunch time and we took Mom and Dad out for their first Turkish doners, our personal favorite food here.

Bryan, Dylan and my parents in the Prinzipalmarkt in Munster.

Dylan was a travelling champion this day and made it through the day with virually zero complaints or tantrums.  The more we traveled throughout the week, the more Dylan's patience for us lessened and by my parent's final day here he pretty much flat-out refused to sit peacefully in his stroller, even for just a walk around town.  Lesson learned.

Tuesday we headed off to Amsterdam, for our farthest excusion of the week.  Driving into the city was ... interesting, to say the least.  Bryan got accurate highway directions, but once we were near the city his directions stopped, so we "felt our way there."  We had no information about where or how to park, so we ended up driving through the most pedestrian/bicycle congested areas in a giant 9-passenger van.  To be frank, it was scary and stressful. The van's 1st gear kept sticking, so Bryan stalled a few times ... which lead my very helpful dad to make fun of him and shout "Third gear!" each time he stalled (implying that Bryan was trying to move forward from 3rd gear instead of 1st). This made Bryan very angry/flustered because he insisted he was in 1st gear.  With each stall he became an increasingly aggressive driver - I'm surprised we didn't hit anyone or anything.  I finally had to referee and tell Dad to "keep it to himself" if Bryan stalled again and for Bryan to calm down and take a few deep breaths.  Driving got better after that, as it was a little safer and everyone was quieter.

We finally found a parking space outside the main city area but couldn't figure out how to use the meter, so we just sent up a prayer that the car would still be there when we returned and that we wouldn't get a ticket.  Thankfully both came true and we parked for free instead of paying 45 Euro's for parking in a garage for the day. 

We walked through Amsterdam's most infamous district (hint, hint) first because it was morning so there were fewer assaults on our eyes and morals but we got out of there as fast as possible. We then headed to the shopping district, then finally to the Anne Frank House side of town, and enjoyed how beautiful the city is (outside of the red light district).

Me, Mom and Dylan - somewhere in Amsterdam.

Bryan and Dylan in front of the European NYSE headquarters.  To Bryan's surprise, there wasn't a huge lineup of people waiting to have their picture taken in front of this building.  Actually, he and Dylan may very well have been the first people ever to request getting their picture taken in this spot.  Bryan even went inside and asked for a tour.  The security guard laughed at him. 

Bryan and I by a canal.

The trip home from Amsterdam took twice as long as it did to get there.  Traffic was simply atrocious - it seemed like every single person in the Netherlands works in Amsterdam and commutes home outside the city.  Mom saved the day and had a Tootsie-Pop sucker in her purse, which we gave to Dylan.  It pacified him for a good hour until we got home.  No one seemed to mind the sticky mess he made as long as he was quiet.

Part 2 coming up soon...

Pee Party

Like most emails that I receive in German, I open up Google translator and perform the translation into English. Though it’s not a perfect 1 to 1 translation, I can usually get the gist of the email and act accordingly. The email I received last week didn’t translate, or so I thought, and was a little disturbing. Here’s what the English translation looked like:


“Hi again,
The child begins to pee by 20 clock. I will give up to 20 clock still training and would subsequently take over. Anyone who would like to come along, is at 20.20 clock in the triple hall.


As a gift it is likely to give a gift certificate for the baby store.”

My good friend and teammate here, Rob, had a baby boy last week. That I knew. However, I was confused as why his child would begin to pee right at 8 pm (did they somehow have this planned?) and why would we go over there to watch this? On top of it all, we would bring a gift? I had so many questions. I was scared and confused.

I replied back to confirm that we were going over to Rob’s house to watch a baby pee. Fortunately for everyone, that was not true. However, it was still called a ‘pee party.’ Though the name is a little strange, I really like the concept.

A pee party is a baby celebration party for the man the birth of his child at his house while the woman is still at the hospital. So basically, the guy invites over his friends, family, and neighbors to smoke cigars and drink beer while the woman recovers. Despite this being a little but unfair to the woman, (who actually carried the child for 9 months and delivered him.  Did I mention this party happens while the woman is still in the hospital?) I personally think this is a great idea and would love to see this implemented into American culture as soon as possible.