IT WAS NOT THE QUANTITY THAT WAS AT FAULT, BUT ALAS, THE MIXTURE

Happy New Year from Pinswang! The green Christmas mentioned in my last BLOG post has extended into an equally green New Year with nary a flake in sight. We shall see what the remainder of the winter has in store. Despite this, Christmas here in the Tirol has, for the most part (as you shall soon hear), been wonderful.

The Masses on Christmas Eve and Day were transcendent and of great beauty, with Blech (brass) and Holz (woodwind) ensembles providing the music for the liturgy. On the 26^th (St. Stephan’s Day), the music at Mass was provided by a splendid Blechbläser ensemble from our sister village, Musau. Our children and grandchildren visited with us here in Pinswang and we had a delightful Christmas family celebration. Susi prepared a splendid feast, after which we adjourned to the top floor family room and opened colorfully wrapped gifts.

It should be noted here that the unwrapping of gifts may, in fact, be a function of a host of social, cultural and economic variables; something not immediately apparent until visitors or expatriates view said activity as it is performed. Now, know from what follows is that there is no one correct way to deprive a treasured gift of its precious wrap. In America, for example, I have observed throughout my lifetime that the term unwrapping is something of a misnomer, as the often highly decorated paper that has been lovingly form-fitted to the gift and adorned with fanciful strings, bows, glittering flakes of unknown and probably unhealthy substances or other small accoutrement, is torn asunder in the most barbaric manner. Adults do so employing limited motions of the hands whilst the gift wrapping explodes into a storm of airborne shards as children eagerly seek the prize buried layers within. The red, blue, white, green and yellow on dark background remains of HoHoHoing Santas, dancing elves and fairies, mistletoe graced ringing bells and flakes ‘a fluttering lie scattered everywhere, akin to the detritus littering a still smouldering battlefield. Even after a time-consuming effort to locate and discard in the bin all of these remains, there inevitably remain some that, tucked under an edge of carpet or behind a long curtain, will reveal themselves many months later.

In contrast, throughout much of Europe, those receiving gifts will painstakingly remove the tape, ribbons, bows and, slipping fingers in the spaces between each place the paper has been folded, slowly, carefully pull the paper apart in such a manner that, if correctly accomplished, the paper can be re-used for gifts for others next Christmas. Again, there is neither correct nor incorrect here, merely an observation made. Still, I must confess, I rather prefer the American version of ‘unwrapping’; it is definitely not proper, environmentally anathema and, as such, evokes an elemental child-like joy that too many of especially my age have long since forgotten. But I digress……

We sat together in the warmth of the slowly darkening late winter afternoon room, the small comforting white lights of the ornament bedecked Christmas tree providing star points against the purpling outside the large windows overlooking the village. I read a couple of wonderful Christmas tales, one of which being the story of life, death and life provided in my previous BLOG entry. The other was an account of ancient times, when a horrible robber appropriately christened ‘Horrificus’ confronted Our Lady and the baby Jesus enroute to Egypt. It is a delightful and funny tale which I plan to translate and publish herein prior to Epiphany (O dear, this needs an update: Should now read, ‘prior to Easter’).

Our Christmas celebrations were then saddened by the death on the 27^th here in Pinswang of our beloved village Priest, Father Simon. He was our dear and close friend for many years and his death has hit us hard. Father Simon had a long and rewarding life (he was to turn 90 this coming March) and although becoming frail, he was 100% cognitively clear until the very end…..which came but a week after he returned to Pinswang after a brief stay in a nearby hospital. I am told that he died comfortably and without any pain, surrounded by family and friends. It was for me a great honor to play the church organ for him throughout the day on Friday (the 29^th) as Father Simon lay in state within the church. Yesterday a Requiem Mass was said for him. The entire village said goodbye and the good father was taken to his home in Mittenwald, a town across the border in Bavaria. This humble, wise and most noble of men will be buried there in his family grave on Tuesday.

The 28^th was Holy Innocent’s Day when, in an attempt to eliminate the newborn Lord, male babies were murdered by Herod’s house guards. This day is remembered in Austria by a host of different traditions. Here in Unterpinswang, a group of boys, most no older than 9 or 10, take to the village streets and, in the still pitch early morning (usually at about 5:00a), go from door to door yelling, “Hola Hola, Bierezelta, siasß oder sau’r, raus met’m Bauer!”, the meaning of which is very strange: “Health, Health (or Attention, Attention), fruit and nut cake with beer and Lebkuchen, sweet or sour, out with the farmer”! Each boy has a small can hanging via string about his neck with an opening cut into the top…the perfect place for the adult to insert a Euro or two for each. In other regions, the children also carry thin branches with which they lightly swat at the adults; revenge for Herod’s murders, and as such, the acts of all miscreant adults.

It is the 31^st of December and most of Europe is now less than a few hours away from the new year. Susi and I celebrate New Year’s Eve quietly at home; a wonderful dinner is often followed by a relaxing evening ensconced in a book or watching an old movie as we await the turning of the year. Then, at about 11:30p, we (along with much of Austria, Germany and Scandanavia) seek out a television broadcast of ‘Dinner For One’; a short black and white English theatre stage piece which, since being put to film in 1963, has become a much beloved cult classic here in Austria and Bavaria. For those not conversant in the German language, please note that although the introduction to the film is in German (The work was recorded by the North German Broadcaster (NDR)), the play itself is in English.

‘Dinner for One’ is the story of Miss Sophie, a rather grand lady who, having just turned 90, is celebrating her birthday with four of her dear friends. Unfortunately, none of the said friends is able to attend the party, for you see, Miss Sophie has outlived them all. Yet, Miss Sophie’s likewise aging butler James has set four places for the deceased and, to please Miss Sophie, goes through the motion of serving them a full four course dinner. With each course Miss Sophie instructs James to serve a different bit of liquid refreshment. With each round comes a toast to Sophie, and the poor butler must drink all that has been served. By the end of the evening, he is, shall we say, thoroughly in his cups, the result playing out with each of the butler’s excursions ’bout the party table. The audience watching the antics is in hysterics with laughter as poor James succumbs even further with each toast. You can find ‘Dinner for One’ on YouTube at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=To8g9XxAdXs  . I have also attached the video herein below. After watching, you might, like me, wonder why this piece has not become popular worldwide.

Then, exactly at midnight, the Austrian State television and radio broadcaster, the ORF, broadcasts the ringing of the Pummerin, the largest bell of the Cathedral in Vienna. This is then followed by a performance of Strauss’ An der schönen blauen Donau’…the Blue Danube Waltz. At the same time, the entire country becomes alight with fireworks, accompanied by the pealing of church bells from every steeple, everywhere. The sound echoes throughout our valley as explosions of glorious incendiary color can be seen in every direction, some being launched from the valley floor and others from refuges and inns high up in the surrounding Alps. It is a grand and exciting spectacle which welcomes the arrival of the new year, each and every year.

Tomorrow morning it is off to New Year’s Day Mass at St. Ulrich’s church where I will be playing organ and there will be a brass quintet also providing the music. Thereafter, the six of us will head off on our rounds, visiting friends and colleagues who were or still are members of the village band (Musikkapelle). We typically make three stops; the first at the family H. where, sitting about a large kitchen table, we devour sandwiches, Christmas cookies and commence what might be referred to as the ‘great imbibing’. A beer is usually followed by a schnapps or two, all of which it thankfully dulled by the aforementioned sandwiches and cookies. Then it is across the street where we greet another family, who plies us with even more schnapps…a requirement as at each of these stations we usually stop to admire the family’s nativity scene (Krippe). Some of the Krippe are quite modest whilst other (such as that pictured below) truly grand works of art indeed. It matters not, for all have been created with great care and are to be equally admired.

Having done so, it is then customary for the Master and/or Mistress of the house to join those who have inspected, admired and praised said Krippe (a procedure known as ‘Krippeleschaun’) to swiftly down a Stamperl (shot glass) of schnapps; neither the type nor brand of which is critical, for all are collectively known as ‘Krippelewasser’ (Krippe water) or (depending on the household preference) ‘Gloriawasser’. Christmas cookies are likewise offered.

By this time, the stomach-coating defenses offered by the earlier sandwiches have begun to falter and I tend to start experiencing the very slight but recognizable effects of the mixtures of William’s pear and hazelnut elixirs. However, my colleagues display no such impairments as we trundle on to the third station. It is here with family O. that we are treated to a view of their very beautiful Krippe and a seat at their table by the warm sleep-inducing enclosed tile fireplace (Kachelofen)….at least, I seem to be the only one who seeks a brief bit of respite from the celebrations as the others are full bore into yet more cookies, beer and schnapps.

Having reached my limit, I can no longer partake, at least of more than a single bout of the William’s, but my friends appear to possess cast iron digestive dispositions along with highly trained finely honed nervous systems. They show absolutely no signs of impairment, diminishment or any other manifestation of cognitive or motor skill deficits and are as awake and jovial as always.

Finally, it is time for all to depart and head their separate ways the short, walkable distances to home. I do so as well, my ‘goodbyes’ and ‘have a great days’ somewhat distorted by a mouth seemingly full of cotton. I have partaken of only very little throughout the three station stops, yet as this type of refreshment and I greet one another only on occasion during the course of the celebratory year, my resistance to its effects is, if you will, limited. Thus, my steps along the thin path back to our house across the farmer’s fields are slowly and very carefully executed; the ground beneath seems somewhat less than solid as I wend my way onto the ancient Roman Road that courses by our house.

Entering and bounding up the stairs, I find Susi watching the New Year’s Day concert being broadcast via Austrian State television, the ORF. I greet Susi, ask her who is conducting the Vienna Philharmonic and, sitting on the couch, proceed to immediately fall asleep, the somnambulant qualities of the Williams et alia finally taking effect. Upon awakening an hour or so later, the concert is coming to a rousing end with the Radetzky March. A brief word or two to Susi about the tempo and I again fall into blissful loss of situational awareness, only to fully awaken yet another hour or two later. To paraphrase Evelyn Waugh, I suspect that the “fault lay neither in the quality no quantity (for it is not great), but of the mixture”. My New Year’s Day is already more than half over; the remainder thereafter enjoyed in a most welcome rested state.

Christmas celebrations in Austria continue until Epiphany (Heilige Dreikönigstag). However, the actual Christmas season continues until early February when we celebrate the presentation of Jesus at the Temple. It is then that the Krippe are carefully dismantled, the figures wrapped in cotton, and the mangers boxed and Christmas tress denuded of lights and ornaments, all to be carefully stored in a closet, in the basement or attic….packed away until the Advent to come but a mere nine months hence.

So it is, dear reader, that we embark on 2024. Susi and I so much hope that your coming year will be one of joy, great health and blessings. We send you all our best wishes for a very HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!