Whose idea was this, anyway?

Our own local village Christmas market

The first-ever Svätý Anton Christmas market is small but convivial, as you’d expect in a village of only 1100.

The mayor appears for brief words of welcome, and dressed in his traditional Slovak costume. The governor of the Banská Bystrica kraj (state) also attends (in a business suit) to give a few words of greeting. There are elections coming up in March.

Unlike the St Hubert Days market, where stalls fill a full half kilometer along the village’s main road on both sides and another couple hundred meters up the castle approach – here there are only a few stalls set up in the courtyard alongside the local volunteer fire department on the roadside. They sell fabrics and crafts, honey, beeswax candles and food.

The honey stall, run by friends of our neighbors, does a good business in medovina, the sweet Slovak honey wine – served hot with lemon slice. JoEllen is a little under the weather today so she has stayed home. But Scott brings her a little of this tasty “medicine”. (It does the trick.)

On one end of the courtyard a donkey waits to take part in the “Living Bethlehem” nativity tableau, and patiently allows children (and some adults) to pet and photograph.

The other major event of the day is the kapustnica cooking competition. This traditional sauerkraut soup served in most Slovak homes at Christmas is one of those dishes for which every family has its own recipe. The three or four competitors prepare theirs over open fires. The soup, in all of its iterations, is simply delicious. Most add sausages often homemade, many also add wild mushrooms plucked from the autumn forests.  Making homemade sauerkraut is also a national pasttime among the women.

We look forward to next year’s, especially Jo.

 

. . . it's Christmastime in the city. . .

JoEllen has some things to get off her chest. . . so she has written this post in the first person singular. We thank you for indulging her.

As I get ready to visit the famous Christkindlmarkt in the park at Vienna’s Rathaus, I try to recall the very first Christmas market I ever saw. It should have been in Innsbruck when I was nine. We lived in a spacious apartment above the post office in the village of Lans bei Igls, up on the Patscherkofel, one of the Tyrolean Alps above Innsbruck.

But of course the James H Zumberge family actually spent Christmas that year of 1960 in Monte Carlo.

What a bizarre place for a lowly professor, with wife and four children in tow, to find himself and his family on Christmas!

I remember buying what I thought was play money for my brothers as Christmas gifts. I could not understand why each piece of paper cost me an entire French Franc (each brother got only one piece of play money). I had no idea it was a Lottery ticket I was buying from the outdoor kiosk – it just looked like fun, fake money. And Christmas was something else:

There was a US Navy destroyer and submarine in port that week. We went to visit them just before Christmas. The Captain and crew of the destroyer were so excited to see actually American children on Christmas Eve, they invited us for Christmas Day breakfast. My oldest brother, John, was in heaven: they put a plate of steak and eggs in front of him. We didn’t hear from him again for almost ten minutes! We were just happy to have Americans to talk to during the meal. I think all the crew fell in love with my mom. (She was a babe then – barely 35 years old and built).

But I digress.

Talking about Christmas markets:

Munich is probably the first time I actually visited one. But there have been others: Cologne, Frankfurt, Kingston-Upon-Thames, Bergen Norway; Bratislava of course; we just missed one in Tallinn Estonia.

And wonderful Vienna.

I revisit the time in the late '80s when Mom and I visited Vienna just before Christmas; and ‘discovered’ the Christmas market on the grounds of Vienna’s town hall, or Rathaus. We were due to have dinner in the Rathauskeller (a typical eating tradition in Germanic and Scandinavian countries, where perhaps the first restaurant in every town or village was located in the town hall, often in the cellar, or keller).

The lights, the gemütlichkeit, hot spiced wine, sausages, the baubles and wooden toys were just simply wonderful to behold.

It was during this trip we attended a performance of the Vienna Boys’ Choir in their home theatre, the Royal Chapel in the vast Hapsburg Palace (a palace that perhaps puts the Louvre to shame in size and imperialness).

We attended a musical comedy (in German) at the Volksoper (People’s Opera). This was not a production we would see in the U.S. most probably: it was called The Tour Guide, though in German, Die Fremden Führer. You understand why.

Sorry, I keep digressing.  I’m thinking of (and missing) my Mom.  We had a GRAND time in Vienna then.

I brought my camera this time in hopes that my memories are still accurate.

They are.

Not a lover of crowds, I am fortunate that this evening is rainy – it keeps them back some.  But the quality of goodies for sale – both food and stocking stuffers – is as good as I remember.

The difference between now and 25 years ago is the increase in number of markets all around town. The gardens between the Art History and Science Museums also boast a large market. There’s a smallish one under a covered pedestrian zone one street over from the Ring Straße, where you can find mostly edible goodies – life-size marzipan ‘fruits’, home smoked bacon (haus geraucht speck) and other Austrian delights. There is an old, bearded man selling his hand-carved nativities and other wooden wonders. He reminds me of the “grandfather” in the Shirley Temple version of Heidi.

But now I move on to the market in Bratislava.

Vienna is roughly four times the size of Bratislava, which is a city of half a million people. And I'm pretty sure there is only one Chrismas market.

But Bratislava has something the Austrians don’t:  carp!

Live, swimming around madly in little kiddie wading pools just waiting to be snatched up for the bathtub at home, where they live until Chrismas Eve day.

Then a deadly whack! on the head so they can end up on the Christmas Eve dinner table as the symbolic meatless dish. (No meat before midnight, then you can dig into all the pork you want).

The carp don’t show up, however, until the last week before Christmas: adults don’t want their kids to get too attached to the pet fish swimming around in the bathtub, not to mention the ban on baths while the fish is in there.

There is a big skating rink right out in front of the Opera House with a giant tree under which skaters can rest their weary ankles.

Tonight, the sky is crystal clear and the temperature is a balmy six degrees centigrade.

Bratislava is out in force tonight in and around the Old Town Square (Staré Mesto). Hand-crafted wreaths, wooden toys and cooking spoons are on offer next to the tackier stuff that all markets have.

But Bratislava’s Christmas Market has a higher percentage of food and drink stalls. Tonight the aromas of honey wine, varené vino (hot mulled wine), sausages and venison gulash drift around the square. And the atmosphere is festive. People push baby carriages and have their dogs in tow. It’s party time.

I hate crowds.

I last about half an hour, take my photos, buy a couple of things then get the hell out.

Now I’m going to enjoy a cosmopolitan and dinner sitting down – while being waited on. None of this standing up spilling hot wine on my gloves and dribbling mustard down my nice cashmere coat. Nope, not for me.

The next chapter on Christmas markets will come next week, when our own village of Saint Anton (Svätý Anton) holds its own Christmas market at the castle. 

 

A Living Clock (and other Banská Štiavnica festivals)

Slovakia, with its long history and strong cultural legacy (it had to be strong to survive the thousand years it was ruled by others), boasts many festivals to celebrate that culture.  Our Štiavnicka Vrchy (Štiavnica Mountains) have their fair share.

All the festivals we’ve been to in the two-plus years we’ve lived here permanently have many things in common: food and drink abound; both cheap and quality souvenirs are always available; music plays; people enjoy themselves immensely.

For instance, in May, the old castle (dating from 13^th century) in Banská Štiavnica hosts the Festival kumštu, remesla a zábavy (art, craftsmanship and fun), in the walled courtyard of the castle where townspeople dressed in Baroque costumes participate in artisanal work (smithy, falconry, cooking).

A highlight of this weekend festival is the living astronomical clock. 

Many fine old city squares in this part of the world have ornate and impressive, moving clocks in their town hall towers.  Munich comes to mind immediately, in the Marienplatz.  Prague is another. 

 

At the strike of 12 Noon, these clocks start up a complicated and elaborate moving show of carved wooden figures, often life-sized, representing some part of the city’s history.  You can bet that there will be a reference to the Black Death in many of these mechanical performances.

The town of Banská Štiavnica (pop. 11,000) has its own special clock, or orloj (or-loy) as they say in Slovak. But here it’s a living clock.  That is, the performance is by living men, not mechanical men.

At the sound of the bell, characters from Banská Štiavnica’s history and mythology appear in a procession on the inner courtyard balcony of the Old Castle. 

The first to appear is Death.

Naturally.

Then comes the executioner.  The ubiquitous salamander that figures large in the myth of the town’s beginning is next (more on the Salamander later).

Then come the miners and money-lenders, scholars and burghers, judges and geologists; and more miners to count out the twelve hours on the clock.

 

In July, there’s a month-long Jazz Fest on nearby Lake Počuvadlo, and a “Festival of Nice Music” (a literal translation) for an annual classical music fest.

Our village of Svätý Anton holds the annual Festival of Saint Hubert, the patron saint of hunters http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hubertus during the first weekend in September. Hunting clubs from all over Slovakia (and other adjoining countries) gather together here on the grounds of the castle in the village to eat, drink and participate in hunting-related competitions: bird-calling, elk-calling, wild boar-calling.

 

It’s just plain enjoyable entertainment to see the hunting raptors (falconry is popular in this part of the world), hunting dogs, and to browse through the hunting-related kiosks. We acquired an antler chandelier for the chata, among other fun stuff.

The most famous festival in the Štiavnický Vrchy is the Salamander Days, during the second weekend in September. 

Banská Štiavnica’s mining heritage began with the legend of a shepherd who was tending his flock in the high hills above a little village.  The shepherd saw something bright shining upon a rock in the meadow. When he went to have a closer look, he saw two salamanders – one gold, one silver – scurry beneath the rock.  The shepherd pushed the rock away and discovered real stones of silver and gold.  Thus was  Banská Štiavnica born (banská  means ‘mine’ in Slovak) and became one of the richest mining towns in the Hungarian empire.   

Students of the town’s mining university (Europe’s oldest) started Salamander Days in the late nineteenth century. 

You can see the two salamanders figuring in the town's 1555 coat of arms here.

It’s a two-day celebration that commences with a parade up the main street into the Trinity Square at dusk. The parade goes on for hours and includes mining groups from all over the region, and south even into Hungary. Paraders wear the mining uniforms from their village and all manner of cultural history is represented in the parade. As the end of the parade winds its way up the hill to the main square, viewers fall in behind all ending  up eating, drinking and enjoying lively music into the early hours. The music and entertainments continue into the next day.

A more sober tradition in Slovakia takes place the weekend of All Saints Day, November first. This past Friday was the busiest day of the year on the roads, with Slovaks all over the country make their way back to their home village to tend to the graves of their families. Chrysanthemums are the most popular flower to place on the newly swept and tidied graves. One of the newspapers ran a comparison article on candles – which ones last longest, the longest burning for the money, etc. The graveyards throughout the country are truly beautiful this time of year.

December fifth or thereabouts finds Svätý Mikuláš (Saint Nicholas) visiting children with his companion Čert (devil).  JoEllen remembers the very same experience when her family lived in the Tyrolean alps of Austria when she was nine. Saint Nicholas knocked on their door, accompanied by Krampus the tyrolean version of Slovakia’s Čert. Krampus (being the only one of the two to speak English) gave Jo and her brothers a run-down of all their naughty deeds during the year. Then he gave them each a nicely wrapped packaged that contained. . . coal and potato peelings!  St. Nicholas, on the other hand, handed out very nicely wrapped colored pencils that came in a red patent leather, zippered pouch.

The same tradition holds true here in Slovakia. Čert will list off all the bad behavior but Svätý Mikuláš will forgive and hand over nice presents.