Pilgrimage: Saint Patrick’s Day in Germany

No one, for the entire day in Germany, pinched me for not wearing Green. I’ve been waiting for this moment since 1st grade. Also, apparently it’s “a bit weird” to skip down the street with a joyous countenance as you listen to fantastic songs by the Wombats, feeling as if you’re in a movie and gliding straight through some fantastic adventure.  They also seem a bit perturbed by someone sitting in a trance as they stream the new Kendrick Lamar album on Spotify. The Germans, I believe, can party, but they provide clear and definite borders to places of work and play. They are the living emodiment of the cliche-frat-honors-student-matra work hard, play hard. As seriously as do Germans take work, do they also take their play: a stern businessman might wander into the park, strip into the nude (pubic nudity is allowed in certain areas), and proceed to lay on his back and drink a beer, smoke a cigarette, to only ten minutes alter re-dress and return to work in some skyscraper, the austere mark of a German returning to his face.

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Where these spaces of “play” and “work” become blurred: cafes, bars, where a professors of theology reads the Qur’ran aloud to himself beside a table of rowdy young students PROST!-ing for the fourth time in an hour, suds of hefeweizen splashing down their mugs. But not so mugs with green beer. Here, there exists on Irish Pub and exactly one Irish party this evening. This is to me surprising, because any chance to glorify binge drinking to social drinkers can make bars sees serious green (in this case: money). Otherwise, St. Patty’s has barely been mentioned (other than of course by me) asking others if they knew today was St. Patty’s Day.

Hong Kong: no.

Australia: no.

Italy: no.

Japan: no.

Denmark: Yes, because they can drink.

Otherwise, the day passes on unmarked by puke puddles or garish green baby onesies. Today people sat in parks and spoke lightly (not nude, these imaginary people) of things other than cultural appropriation or how drunk they’re gonna get tonight. The sun winks at us from above, in on this cosmic joke. Below us, a swatch of green, green, green-as-shamrock-on-the-Lucky-Charms-Leprechaun green.

 

 

About derekberry

Derek Berry is a novelist, poet, and student located in Charleston, SC.

Posted on March 17, 2015, in Blogging, Pilgrimage, Pilgrimage Vignettes, Writing and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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