Events – Page 4 – Across The Water

December 8, 2009December 9, 2009

Scaring the Crap outta Children Across Europe

Last post I said that there wasn’t anything wrong with Christmas time in Austria. I’m snapping that comment back like a trout on a fly-fishing line. I forgot all about the Krampus. Sheesh.

On Saturday Markus, Annie, my mom, cousin Lilli and I set out for the Krampus celebrations in Igls, about 15 minutes out side of Innsbruck. We were there a bit early so had time for a foot-long sausage and a piping glÃ¼hwein. Annie and Lilli ran around in the snow and played with other kids. There was one round of Krampus’ going by, but Annie held it together pretty well.

For those who missed the post last year, a Krampus is a demon-like creature who accompanies St. Nicholas. Parents call on the Krampus to terrorize their children into behaving. As in, “If you aren’t good the Krampus will come and steal you away and eat you.” Seriously. I shouldn’t be that surprised, given that this is the land of fairy tales like Cinderella (Aschenputtel), where the ugly step-sisters cut off their toes and heels to make the glass slipper fit. The tell-tale gush of blood is what gives them away to the prince.

And don’t get any ideas that I’m exaggerating on the scariness part; Krampus is this

And this

And these dudes

Once dusk hit the gathering was in full swing. Several wooden-masked creatures with giant cow bells and rope switches wandered through the packed crowd growling and pushing people and whipping them. There were literally dozens of toddlers screaming and crying and pleading to their parents to protect them. All they got was a toss of the head and a “you’d better be good then” comment.

Amidst this comes St. Nicholas, whose costume is a cross between a Bishop and Santa Claus. He comes with a host of children dressed as angels and hands out hundreds of sacks filled with chocolate, nuts and oranges.

I appreciate that the whole concept of elves accompanying Santa Claus is odd, but these German-speaking people are whacked, I tell you.

Last year during these “festivities” Annie was in a stroller and it was easy to divert her attention from the scarier beasts. This year she was sitting on top of Markus’ shoulders, with a bird’s eye view of the hell-dwelling monsters. She, of course, wanted to get a present. But, just to ensure no sadistic stone is left unturned, there are two Krampus’ on the stage amongst St. Nic and the angels. So Annie stands in line with Lilli, then starts screaming to go home as she nears the stage and sees the Krampus up close. Good. Let’s get out of here. Then she is wailing because she doesn’t have a present. So we go back and I tell her to close her eyes until we can snatch a sack and make a run for it.

As Markus was happy to point out, she didn’t seem worse for wear, stopping to build a snowman with Lilli on the way back to the car. But I have no doubt that there will be some nightmares over this in the days to come.

Next year, should we be in Europe, I’m not forgetting this craziness. No more Krampus for you, Annie-girl. You’ll just have to learn to sleep in longer without the threat of a terrifying and painful death.

December 5, 2009December 5, 2009

A Grand Grandparent Day

One set of grandparents, Nana (my mom) and Grandpa Drew (my stepfather) are visiting from Canada. Well, Drew has already returned home but Mom is staying for a few more days.

Last weekend we tackled the requisite visitor activity, a hike up a mountain. As my mom has had two hip replacements and has a stent in her heart, this needed to be planned carefully. Markus scouted out an easy-ish trek and off we (Drew, Mom, Markus, Annie and I) went. I became much more worried once we got a bit higher and realized that there was snow and ice on the ground. Mom didn’t have hiking boots on, so it was quite slippery. With the help of a few strong arms, my hiking poles and a midway rest (a hide-and-go-seek break for Annie and Drew) we made it up.

As a reward, we came to a restaurant with a particularly lovely view as well as a 5 euro schnitzel special. Delicious.

After our hike we headed straight for a Christmas celebration in Rattenberg, a small medieval village about 45 minutes outside of Innsbruck. The city has put up hundreds of candles in all of the windows and set up a stage for performers. There were Christmas stalls and every store was open and decorated for the season. The town is known for its glass blowing, and many stores had beautiful hand-blown ornaments, glassware and vases. Mom bought some Christmas tree angels and a pretty blown-glass flower.

After some glÃ¼wein and wurst, we moved to the main stage area. There were children’s choirs and musicians and choral singers. A rope was strung across the square, and for a finale a woman was lifted up on a swing. Swinging above the crowd she proceeded to sing a beautiful Ave Maria that completely enchanted Annie. Very pretty.

As I keep saying, there is just nothing wrong with Christmas time in Austria. It is the best time for a visit without a doubt. Absolutely beautiful.

November 5, 2009November 5, 2009

Of Devils and Angels (well, fairy princesses…)

Last Saturday Annie woke up possessed by the devil. BY THE DEVIL I say. The last four days Markus and I felt like we were in a very, very hot place. Annie’s independent streak has been building for months now. Years, actually. But it has gone to a very unhealthy (for the parents) place. If I do something completely ridiculous and horrible like, say, turning on a light in a dark room or handing Annie a spoon so she can eat her cereal, crisis ensues. “But I wanted to put on my clothes/choose my socks/peel my banana/stir the boiling hot soup/etcetcetcetcetcetc.” Any one of these things (except the soup maybe) would be great. A real show of independence. But every single second for every single thing is exhausting.

Markus and I are getting our ducks in a row with this, as we haven’t had too much of the tantrums in the past to need to strategize about. We are trying time-outs, taking away toys, ignoring, praising (the moments of good behaviour), reasoning, redirecting, bribing. And I certainly try letting her do whatever she can by herself when at all possible or giving her choices to let her feel like she is in control. What I found works the best is if I take a time-out. I leave her wherever she is freaking out (so far only at home, so that is doable) and tell her she can come find me when she can speak properly to me. We’ll see how long that works. I’m chalking it up to the fact that we are phasing out afternoon naps, and so she is undoubtedly more tired than usual. Here is hoping this is a very short phase.

On top of it, Annie didn’t want to get dressed or go out all weekend. So along comes Halloween. Well, not really, as they don’t have Halloween here. But I’ve joined an expat group and we organized pumpkin carving and dress up for the afternoon at a local restaurant. I made a commitment to go, so I needed to get that girl dressed and out the door. Annie was having none of it. Finally I took her downstairs naked, and then, afterÂ more drama and trauma, managed to shoehorn her into her costume in the car.

And, of course, once she got there she had a wonderful time. And mommy had a drink.

Here are the pictures. (It was fairly cold, so the crown was replaced with a hat and scarf after some time. Next year I’ll find a costume that goes over the coat.)

With new best bud, Max, from English Club

The restaurant was also a farm (common in these parts), so here is the fairy princess feeding the animals.

And a couple of Annie and Dad carving a pumpkin at home. (Who needs pants?)

Doesn’t she look like an angel? Sigh.

October 25, 2009October 25, 2009

A Few Firsts

[The last time I posted was Oct. 11th?!! Sorry about that. To make up for it, here is a post about everyone’s favourite subject. (grin) ]

There have been a few firsts in Annie’s life lately. A couple of weeks ago was an invitation to her first birthday party in Austria. I was so interested to see what parents did for their children to celebrate birthdays. Some of the regular blogs I read have been talking about Snow-white parties, fairy tea parties, planning for 3 months for a birthday, and one sad, teary video lament from a mother who, due to having lost all of their money in the Madoff scandal, can’t mount the birthday extravaganza that all of her daughter’s friends put on.

Unsurprisingly (as I have gotten to know these Austrian types a bit better), birthday parties here are decidedly lower key. We walked in and the birthday boy, Jacob, opened Annie’s present (and all subsequent presents) right away. There was a table set up for snacks and cake, there was a space for dancing, and then by the time I picked Annie up, they were all watching a DVD. Due to a mixture of things including my innate laziness and my hatred of the MTV show “Sweet 16”, I’m quite pleased with this discovery that birthday parties here are just easy and fun.

Here is the girl when I walked in. My little 3-year old ingenue.

Last week was also Annie’s first time riding her bike to school. It took almost as long as when we walk together, so I’m not sure this will be a regular thing just yet. And of course, winter is coming and I’m not one of those crazy people who encourages bike riding in the snow. (Very common here.) Nevertheless, Annie was pretty stoked.

And perhaps the biggest first, last week was Annie’s move to Kindergarten. Children start Kindergarten here at 3 1/2, not at age 5 like in Canada. It wasn’t that much of a transition, as she is just going across the hall to a new room. Annie knows the teacher well and is friends with half the kids. The transitional phase can be up to 2 weeks, but by day 3 Annie was spending her whole time with Melanie in her new classroom. At this particular school all of the children take a second language, with a choice of Italian, English or French. We stuck with English; this kid has had a lot thrown at her in terms of changes in her little life, so adding a third language seemed, well, just a wee bit pushy. The English teacher is in the classroom a couple of hours a day, which I’m sure Annie will enjoy.

I took the camera to school on her first day of Kindergarten and asked her to smile. This is what I got.

Oh, Annie-girl, you are more fun than 10 barrels of monkeys. I hope that as you grow and go through hundreds of other firsts, the joy stays the same.

September 22, 2009September 24, 2009

Almabtrieb und Landesumzug, 2009

There are few weekends here where there isn’t something going on either in Innsbruck or in one of the neighbouring towns. Pretty much anything is taken as a reason to gather outside, drink beer, eat deep fried cheese and sausages, play traditional Austria tunes and…drink beer.

This weekend we fit in two festivals. The first, on Saturday, was in Kufstein. The festival is a celebration of the cows being taken down from their alpine summer home back to the farms. “Look, the cows are coming! Let’s sing, eat and drink!!” Cracks me up.

The farmers dress their prized bovines in floral headdresses and huge cowbells and parade them through the city center. My friend, Nicole, caught the action on her cell phone video.

Almabtreib from Hillary Samson on Vimeo.

The other festival was a 200-year celebration of Andreas Hofer. Hofer is a huge hero here, as he and his army of pitchfork-carrying farmers pushed back Napoleon’s troops. A few times. The result of these battles (eventually lost by Hofer’s troops) was that Sudtirol became a part of Italy. The parade included several groups and banners calling for the reintegration of Sudtirol into Austria. This part of Italy even has a “distinct society” status. All very Quebec, right down to the protest bombings in the 1960’s. Markus tells me that the Italian police weren’t too fussed about giving the suspected rebels a fair trial at that time. They just never came home.

The parade was massive. 26,000 participants marched through downtown Innsbruck for four hours in front of about 50,000 spectators. Given that Greater Innsbruck has only 350,000 residents, this is an impressive turnout.

The traditional costumes are always interesting to see and Annie loved the music. The highlight of the parade was the carrying of a giant crown of iron thorns on the shoulders of 20 men to represent the suffering of the Sudtirolers. Apparently this caused quite the controversy in the past, so the thorns are now covered with red roses. In celebration of the year, 2009 roses were used to beautify the crown. Very impressive.

Our pictures weren’t great, but you can see 44 images of the parade here on the local newspaper’s website.

Another highlight for me was taking Annie to the start of the evening festivities in the square behind the hotel. A band was playing traditional music that literally everyone in the crowd knew and sang along to. Annie and her cousin, Lili, joined the dirndl and lederhosen-outfitted couples and were dancing queens for over an hour. Sadly, no pictures or videos but, trust me, it was cute, cute, cute.

I’m sure there is more going on next weekend, but on Friday we are off to the island of Elba, Italy (between the mainland and Corsica) for 6 days. But more on that later…

June 29, 2009June 29, 2009

Kaiserfest in Kufstein

Last weekend we attended a large street festival in Kufstein, a smaller town about 45 minutes away from Innsbruck. My friend, Nicole, lives there and invited us down, good-naturedly spending the day with a hyper toddler. It was raining on and off (and sometimes ‘on’ in squalls), but there was so much to do and so much awesome Austrian junk food to eat (mmmm, fried cheese and beer) that we managed to stay out for five hours.

This was the first time I have visited Kufstein, whose city center is guarded over by a 12th Century castle.

I never quite figured out what the celebration was for, but the city had done a great job of dedicating the city to the festivities.

There was a very large kids play area, with toys, 2 playgrounds, tractor rides (Annie only lasted 30 seconds on that…tears ensued when a little boy smashed into her tractor), drawing easels, a small train that toured around the festival, and face painting. We hit the face painting first, as there wasn’t yet a line-up. Annie told us she wanted to be a lion. That kid already has very well-formed opinions. (See my tweet from this morning.)

She looks sad here, but she actually loved the final results. Always a bit withdrawn with strangers...for the first 10 seconds anyway.

As Annie gets bigger, my hardest dilemma is how much to protect her. She is so independent and so neverÂ wants to hold my hand or walk by my side. In big crowds it tends to freak me out, but I know it is important for her development. She had a blast, as a budding ham does, running ahead and then waving back at us with a little wiggle and dance.

There isn’t much else to tell, as I spent pretty much every minute I wasn’t watching Annie play eating and drinking. I’m starting to feel like a real Austrian! Annie fell asleep on the ride home and was out for the night, which was great as I conked out early too. Apparently there are festivals in one area or another pretty much every weekend of the summer. My arteries are clogging just thinking about it. Tomorrow…hiking.

May 28, 2009May 29, 2009

I Love Every Minute of You

My Sweet Girl,

I remember shortly after you were born, a poem started to form in my head, or my heart, or wherever poems begin.

I love every minute of you
I love every breath of you
I love every smile, cry, sigh of you

The poem hasn’t grown beyond that yet, maybe never will. Poems do that sometimes, as you may discover if your love of words and sounds and sense continues to grow at this breakneck pace. (Words and writing and reading have always been so important for me, shaping who I am and what I believe. I think that maybe we will share that.) But for some reason those poem’s words help me to express and understand the magnitude of change that I went through when you were born. A complete love that I have never felt before.

I have had a broken heart in my life. As you will have, undoubtedly, in yours. I think it is O.K. to have a broken heart once or twice in the span of a lifetime. It means you have loved and lived and tried. (Oh, the trying. That is the toughest part of all.) But I remember thinking, as your 3-line almost-poem ran through my head, that if anything ever happened to you, my heart wouldn’t break. It would shatter. Into a thousand million pieces that could never be put back together. Without you, I wouldn’t be me anymore. Not the me that was created the moment you came into this world 3 years ago. Not this me, the best me that I have ever known.

Back in your room in Victoria, I am floored by the scent. Just like I remember, like no other smell in the world. Because it is you. It brought back the flood of memories of nursing and rocking, changing and tickling. My beautiful baby. This room is no longer yours, but that smell will stay with me always.

And speaking of tickling. Never, no never, has there been a girl in the world who loves to be tickled more than you. “It’s tickle time!” is peeled out several times a day. We also have tickle games, games that developed over time, the origins of which are murky and irrelevant. You climb under a blanket and pretend you are asleep, snoring loudly like a 70-year old man. That is my cue to throw back the cover and madly tickle you. Or you tuck into the corner of the couch and say “You can’t reach me”, which I respond to by stretching out my arm, pretending like I can only…just…barely…grab your hand, and then pull you to me and tickle your side until you squiggle away. Your funny, sweet, surprisingly deep laugh will be in my ears always.

As will your voice. Much of your day is filled with music. Listening to music, strumming on your guitar, and singing. Always singing. You have brought music back into a more central part of my life. I try to think of music that we can listen to and dance to together. Or we just turn on the radio and boogie to whatever is playing. It doesn’t really matter. It all sounds and feels wonderful.

I hope you remember these fun times, the lovely times together. Because not every minute is perfect with us. I’m a different kind of mom…like I guess every mom is different in their own way. I don’t bake or cook much, I like/need to work and explore my own projects, I sometimes have a really, really short fuse, and the thing I pray the most for is patience. There are days I wish I could take back, and desperately hope that the better days somehow overpower the worse days in your memory.

But you are kind and confident and fiercely independent, so I think maybe in the end it will all turn out alright. Maybe even better than alright. The other day I caught you awkwardly shimming up on the big-girl toilet and showed you how to move your stool, which you cart around the apartment constantly to help you do whatever it is you want to do, to get up there more easily. Your eyes lit up like I had given you the best gift: a way to do yet one more thing without any help. Dad found you the next day happily perched up there, reading a book that you had hauled from your room. He forwarded me the photo immediately, so we could share the laugh together.

I can hardly believe 3 years have gone by, and also can barely comprehend how much you have changed and learned in such a short time. I’m fascinated by the way your mind works, and I think it will just keep getting better and better as we can talk and share more. I’ve always said that 3 was my favourite age for children. Innocent and daring, talking and roughhousing, growing independence while still needing lots of cuddles, a full and vibrant personality with just a hint of baby. I’m going to love every minute of it.

Pufferbelly from Hillary Samson on Vimeo.

May 17, 2009

Hannibal Over the Alps: Who Said History Was Boring?

Markus was catching up on my blog and commented that I hadn’t posted about the Hannibal show yet. Not sure how I let that one pass by, as it was one of the most impressive experiences of the year. Since we spent the whole day today baking ourselves in the city’s ginormous outdoor swimming complex, it seems a bit strange to be talking about partying in the snow. But I guess we Canadians are used to it, given that the hockey playoffs spill into June.

As part of my birthday present (because Paris wasn’t enough, lucky girl that I am), Markus bought tickets for the year-end show at the SÃ¶lden ski mountain. Each year a few of the main ski resort villages put on major performances to celebrate the end of the winter ski season.

For the last few years, SÃ¶lden has put on an amazing performance which focuses on the story of Hannibal, the Carthaginian military commander (about 200 BC), during the period he marched over the Alps into Italy.

There were over 5,000 people watching…and eating and drinking and buying stuff of course. (I know I’ve said it before, but except for the bank’s refusal to lend us money, I have seen very few examples of the effect of the financial crisis on this part of the world.) The event was incredibly efficiently run, starting with a couple of dozen buses providing non-stop transportation from the lower village to the mountain top. (I just closed my eyes and imagined good things as we teetered on the edge of the mountain switchbacks for the 15 minute journey.)

At the chalet we ate and drank and found our place at the base of the glacier to watch the action. Even before the main event there was a huge video screen and blaring music to accompany the dare-devil stunts of the fighter jets and B52 bombers zooming through the sky.

The event itself was a contemporary retelling of the Hannibal story, with a deep-voiced narrator and an English-speaking talk-show host moving the story along. The performance was incredible. We figure it took hundreds of thousands of Euros to put on this thing. There were dozens of performance skiers, helicopters, para-gliders, dancers and actors. 15 snowplows represented the elephants that Hannibal drove over the mountains, while a giant crane transported the overseeing goddesses and Hannibal to the scene. An ice pyramid provided a platform for the dancers as well as a real bed with some hot action.

After the stunt motorcycles and snowmobiles jumped over ice ramps, I thought we had hit the highlight of the show. That was when a real live avalanche was triggered. CA.RAY.ZY! To be followed by about a dozen parachuters carrying glowing lights jumping from planes. And of course, the whole thing ended with a spectacular fireworks display.

I decided to take my video camera, thinking that that would be a better way of capturing the performance. On review of the footage, I have discovered that, although I’m not a great photographer, my video taking skills are truly scheiÃŸe. Luckily, between the magic of YouTube and the existence of promotional videos, you get to see 3 incredible minutes of this stunning hour-and-a-half extravaganza. Enjoy.

April 20, 2009

A Lovely Birthday Morning

The story and pics of Paris will be up soon, but I just wanted to do a short post on this day, my 40th birthday. (So weird, I tell you. I think of myself as much younger and am constantly forgetting I’m not a puppy anymore.)

I woke up before Annie did, a big treat, and then heard her toddle into our room. She gave me a big snuggle and then, when I told her it was my birthday, attempted to sing Happy Birthday and claimed, “but it isn’t in your closet.” O.K. then.

Markus and Annie made me crepes with strawberries and Canadian Maple syrup, which is one of my favourites. Even Rebecca woke up early to join us. Right now, after chatting with Markus and my mom, I’m sitting on our balcony reading a book. I feel content and happy and pretty lucky to be in this beautiful setting.

Tonight we will all go out for dinner and then back to the cafe for cake. A lovely way to spend my birthday.

Here is my view on this gorgeous morning (click on the picture to enlarge):

The mountains actually feel even closer in person.

February 25, 2009

Fasching Fun

Today was a half day holiday for schoolchildren and most businesses, as the country celebrates Fasching or Karnival. This is the festival the day before Lent starts, an interesting crash between pagan and Christian mythologies, where people can get their drinking, eating and partying in before the 40-day deprivation begins. The other main focus of Fasching is driving away winter. Some wear scary masks or bear costumes to represent winter, while others play instruments, wear bells and noisemakers, or have mirrors on their heads to scare winter away. Kids get dressed up in costumes similar to those seen in NA for Halloween, with princesses, pirates and clowns being the obvious favourites.

We went over to Aunt Susi’s and Lili’s last night and borrowed a very cute ballerina costume. Mostly I really don’t like organizing costumes, either for myself or for others; but the upside today was that Annie was so excited to put on the costume that she was easily dressed, including letting me put up her hair. Annie has been so difficult to get dressed the last few weeks, that when Markus returned from Canada last time I told him that it was his responsibility to see to that duty in the morning for, like, the next 10 years.

Here are the sweet pictures of the little ballerina.

Starting a fun filled morning at daycare

Students Rebecca’s age don’t really get dressed up anymore, but she and I went to watch the parade for an hour or so while Markus worked in the Cafe. Unfortunately the weather wasn’t very good, lots of snow, very slushy and chilly, but that didn’t seem to stop the crowds. The legal open alcohol for anyone over 16 certainly helps with the festive atmosphere, I’d say. There was a real range of traditional and modern floats and bands. There were scary masks, children riding unicycles, and beautiful costumes. I think my favourite had to be the Austrian drag queens, but I’ve always had a soft spot for that sort of thing.

I grabbed my regular camera instead of the video camera, so unfortunately the quality of the following could be better and I can’t edit it to make it shorter (only 1 minutes, but still.) But it does give you a sense of one of the main themes of the festivities, driving winter away and ushering in spring.

Fasching Umzug from Hillary Samson on Vimeo.