After checking into my hostel in Nuremberg, I set out to explore the city. My first stumble, was upon a children’s festival, complete with games, balloons and a tattooed man in cow print pants singing “nein, nein, nein” and “ja, ja, ja.” You laugh, but whether it was his long blonde hair or captivating lyrics, his fans were as large in number as they were small in size. They loved him.
My next stumble, also at the fair was a booth for an organization that provides jobs and medical attention for women and young women in India. I stood staring for awhile, trying to use what little German I knew to decipher the posters and picture captions. Then arrived Judy, a sweet and humble lady. After a detailed account of their work, I left, heart full, Judy’s email in one hand and the Indian food I purchased to support their efforts in the other.
And at last, I stumbled upon lederhosen. And lots of it. I was lucky to have arrived on the last day or a great German festival with lots of meat, bread, beer, Federweisser (my new favorite drink) and lederhosen! Public and servers alike were decked out in this traditional garb and no one seemed different for it. I imagined I had traveled back in time, sat down at a table with my glass of federweisser and Indian treats, and watched the German world go by. I called it a night when I truly believed that there was not a booth I had not taken in by smell and sight.
I would have left Germany thinking it might have been a dream until I spotted lederhosen at the train station this morning…