Our Sister City Crailsheim's Fraenkisches Volksfest

I spent the past weekend in my hometown's sister city, Crailsheim. Dieter, the director of the exchange program, invited me to see a real German fall festival.

Here at the left, I ran into the Chief Editor of the Hohenloher Stadtblatt, the local newspaper (equivalent of the Daily Globe for those Worthingtonians) and on Monday discovered my name in the paper "Rick Nonneman"--hey, close enough. Coming from Woo-town, it's really makes for a warm reception and great time in Crailsheim.

Here, the madman himself as we both sport our Lederhosen, Dieter. He insisted upon celebrating every night. It's the true "Work Hard, Play Hard" as these festivals originally celebrated the bountiful harvest season. (So I'm led to believe)





Always important is eye contact when saying cheers--hence the photo to the left as Kai and I look each other straight on. Otherwise, you might offend the other person as you won't "look 'em in the eye" and are, hence, untrustworthy.

Friendships from the past renewed, Milena on the left and Katrin in the center, both went to Worthington High School with me during my senior year and are from Crailsheim. To the right is Katrin's friend, Lucy. (To beat her to the punch, I expect Bridget to comment on this photo)







Monika, Thomas, and Uli. These are friends I met in the Frankisch Family when I marched in traditional clothing in the parades. Having done that, it really made this Volksfest superb, as if I were surrounded by friends that I had known for years--as if part of the Crailsheim Fraenkische Familie.

Eva also added to the extreme fun. She's eccentric, on Facebook, and a true fan of the Fest. Officially "friended" on Facebook, Eva and I will certainly have to exchange stories from the Volksfest.
As I mentioned, the sausage is 1/2 meter long (1 1/2 feet approx.) and the bun is never large enough. But after singing for 6 or 7 hours in the beer tent, a little bit of bread and little bit of ketchup and a hot dog hit the spot.

Here Dieter and I stand in front of the tree IN the tent. The tent is the longest one in Europe and held upwards of 7,000 people. Every night the tent was as packed as a typical bar on a Saturday night.

What an impressive sight as I walked past the stands of beer masses. Yes, these are the glasses they store and distribute for the beer. Note, they're almost exclusively 1 Liter. You're moderately a pain to the server and party pooper if you order anything less (unless, of course, you're watching your children, or having to drive, or reasonable excuses excluded.)


"Adios mein Engel" This was written on the urinal. Adios, (I assume we all know it means "goodbye" in Spanish) and "mein Engel" means "my Angel" which is the brand of beer brewed in the town and served in the beer tent. Basically in the urinal it stood, "goodbye, my beer"
Here is the beloved Uli as she and I say cheers or "Prost" in German. She's the leader of the Frankisch Family. Note, she's a Grandmother and still celebrating like every other. It's makes for a great atmosphere.

At our break by the beer stand, we ran into Lucy and Katrin again. And as seen here, the varieties of clothing completely acceptable and encouraged at the fest. Lucy sporting the Volksfest T-shirt, Dieter in the regional traditional clothing, Katrin in modern European wear (I say European because of the scarf, it's so often a dead give-away when distinguishing between Europeans and non-EUs), and me sporting the Lederhosen.

This wonderful woman works in the courthouse and is responsible for distributing the certificates. As one from Worthington, I was very very taken care of. I think I calculated it out to be almost 200 Euros gifted to me for coming, combined from the city's certificates, those from friends, and those from the Fränkische Familie. It made it far more affordable (as a min. wage intern) and far more enjoyable.



As you'll read, Guenther we met at the Bier stand/booth and was a hoot. Here, I decided to see what I look like in the traditional married woman's hat. It certainly covers up the receding hair line.




And here's me with an old friend, Katrin. Well, we're both young, but we went to High School together as she, from Crailsheim, came and spent senior year with the class I was in. The dress that women wear is called a Dirndl, and the men wear Lederhosen.

Here, two fellow Tracht Traegerer (Men in Lederhosen, more or less) Guenther and Andi. Dieter and I ran into them in the afternoon as we took a break from the beer tent to go to a beer stand, unlike the previous day where our beer tent break was at the beer garden. Keep up and don't be so confused.

These guys helped make the last day of the festival unforgettable as we were then with a great group of people, everyone friendly to meet each other. And Guenther was constantly in the best of moods--perfect company for such a festival.

Last comes the Festival Funeral. The procession marches in and a "priest" sadly closes the festival.

There should be more to come from the parade. This year was agriculture-themed--especially fitting for my father, the farmer, my sister, the future Veterinarian, and me growing up on the farm. The Germans certainly have a different way of celebrating, but one of really celebrating.

Later Days,
Rick