Taide’s Weblog

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The Holy Amusement Park

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I know. I still haven’t kept my promise to report about the sad fate of my old car, and what has happened since. I will get there. In one of the coming posts.


But my home town sets the agenda at the moment, and the fifth season of the year has started yesterday: the Domweih.

I don’t know an adequate English translation for that. Maybe the Hamburger Dom can give you an idea. The historical background is different here, of course. It refers to the opening of the Dome of my home town, some Yes, kid. He's a human being, too.900 or 1000 years ago. And The Hamburger Dom doesn’t turn Hamburg’s inside out the way the Domweih of this small town does. And that is problem number one that pisses me off. Hamburg has the Heiligengeistfeld. The whole amusement gets into nobody’s way. Here, it fills the whole city, and the broken glass of bottles thrown away by people who think they are … umm… social scrunches under your feet as you walk through town. And if you go by bicycle, I suggest that you make a long detour around this beautiful town anyway, during these festive days.


It really started last night, when the boozers began celebrating their own bad habits, but the official opening was the traditional pageant, earlier during the day.

I have happily missed it for 25 years or so, but this the first one since is my wife’s come to town, she wanted to watch it, my father found that a nice idea and joined her, and I didn’t want to leave either of them alone in the crowd.


Yes, these folksy events never change. Not fundamentally, anyway. But there was a big cultural and religious difference. One of our Lutheran parishes paraded an old church bell, attached to the front-end loader of a Fendt tractor, which I suppose and hope had desecrated long ago and not by this event, competing for the spectators’ attention by sounding periodical jingles.


When I was about fifteen years old and we secretly smoked on the square in front of the Dome of our town, we took to our heels when the parson was approaching. We feared him and his church, rather than admiring either of them. But to get peoples’ attention today (respect would be quite a different story), the church apparently needs to exhibit one of its bells on a front-end loader that moves cow dung on working days.


I’m not sure what looks sicker to me now: the fear of a teenager of the parochial dignitaries some decades, or the way the church is now making fun of itself.


Written by taide

June 1, 2008 at 8:45 pm

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