Männertag

Last Thursday was "Männertag" or "Man's day". Actually, technically it was the religious holiday "Christi Himmelfahrt" (Ascension). But at some point here, and apparently it is particularly pronounced in Saxony, it evolved into "Männertag", a day celebrated my grown men by the masses getting drunk off their asses all day long, making fools of themselves in public, and eventually getting into fights and/or arrested. What an embarrassing "holiday" when police are securing the city the night before in anticipation, hoping to avoid, for example, what happened two years ago. (1000-drunks-strong riot a few blocks from my house where 41 police were injured and over 100,000 euros of damage occured).


So of course I celebrated. When in Rome......, right? There's this sweet little courtyard-grill area with my building.

Radeberger and Bratwurst. Really, what else?

Everybody in this picture is a doctor, is working in their PhD, is a CEO, or is named Matt.

After hours of that we headed to the park, where a few of us actually managed to get a bunch of Europeans to play some American football(!). It was hilarious. The Kiwi was actually the star, returning a punt for a TD, yet having trouble remembering which team he was on, or, for that matter, how to walk straight. No doubt the rugby heritage in the blood.

MVP
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