Middle Europe, Middle Ages, Middle of Nowhere

The Middle. It´s the middle of the summer and the middle of my first month here in Germany. I have realized several impressive milestones. I have a bank account. I have a student ID. I have a subway pass. I have a collection of professional wallet-sized biometric photos in which I look very angry at the world (such stern-looking photos are required in Germany to get basically any ID card, pass, etc).

I have also clearly purchased and installed internet (honestly a noteworthy achievement for me in any language), changed my computer keyboard to German, and have almost effectively re-learned how to type. It took me longer than I would like to admit to locate the question mark key and the apostrophe and to stop switching the letters y and z. But, anyway, that puts me at about the middle of my getting oriented to Germany list.

Here in Germany, Middle (Mitte) seems to be a key idea. I live in Tannenbusch Mitte. Germany is in Middle Europe. Lunch is Mittagsessen (literally middle day food), and Wednesday is Mittwoch (literally Midweek). In this part of Germany, known as the Middle Rhine River Valley, it can sometimes feel like you are about to get dropped in the middle of the Middle Ages.

Ok, fine. That is a total exaggeration shamelessly employed to give this post some semblance of a theme. But in all fairness, it does feel like medieval nostalgia plays a pretty big role in how the Rhine River Valley in and around Bonn presents itself, particularly for tourists. And, as my project has a lot to do with presentation of local culture and history for tourists, I figured, this was fair game.

This past weekend involved quite a lot of interaction with Germany´s medieval world. It started with a Thursday evening concert entitled In the Middle of the Middle Ages. The concert, which I attended with my Russians (natürlich), was held in the courtyard of the Bonner Münster, one of the oldest basilicas in Germany. The present day building, which was built between the 11th and 13th centuries, sits on the site of a shrine built in the fourth century as a memorial to two Roman Christian Martyrs, Cassius and Florentius.


The performance, which involved a lot of interpretive dancing by men in tights pretending to be on pilgrimage during the crusades, was just about as good as it sounds, which is to say, not so awesome. But, the free wine and pretzel rolls more than made up for it. Many new Russian vocabulary words were acquired.


On Sunday we went on our own pilgrimage to visit the Lorelei, a looming mountainous rock that overlooks the narrowest point of the Rhine River. The trip to Lorelei began at 6:50 in the morning to catch a train to the city of Koblenz. In Koblenz we boarded a boat and cruised for three hours down the Rhine (meanwhile we did a lot of homework, which for me included reading about Ghenghis Kahn in German - a different type of Medieval history). The region we passed through was beautiful. The river is flanked by castles, towers, picturesque villages and sweeping landscapes. We disembarked at St. Goarshausen, explored the town below and then hiked up Lorelei!

By the Middle Ages, the location of Lorelei was well-known as a site of many shipwrecks. It was said that sounds and whispers were heard at the site of the rock. In the 19th century the myth was created of a maiden or mermaid who sang so beautifully that she distracted sailors, leading to their doom. In the 19th century many peoms about Lorelei were written. The most famous was by Heinrich Heine:

I know not if there is a reason
Why I am so sad at heart.
A legend of bygone ages
Haunts me and will not depart.

The air is cool under nightfall.
The calm Rhine courses its way.
The peak of the mountain is sparkling
With evening's final ray.

The fairest of maidens is sitting
Unwittingly wondrous up there,
Her golden jewels are shining,
She's combing her golden hair.

The comb she holds is golden,
She sings a song as well
Whose melody binds an enthralling
And overpowering spell.

In his little boat, the boatman
Is seized with a savage woe,
He'd rather look up at the mountain
Than down at the rocks below.

I know the waves will devour
The boatman and boat as one;
And this by her song's sheer power
Fair Lorelei has done.

The Original:

Ich weiß nicht, was soll es bedeuten,
Daß ich so traurig bin;
Ein Märchen aus alten Zeiten,
Das kommt mir nicht aus dem Sinn.

Die Luft ist kühl, und es dunkelt,
Und ruhig fließt der Rhein;
Der Gipfel des Berges funkelt
In Abendsonnenschein.

Die schönste Jungfrau sitzet
Dort oben wunderbar,
Ihr goldenes Geschmeide blitzet,
Sie kämmt ihr goldenes Haar.

Sie kämmt es mit goldenem Kamme
Und singt ein Lied dabei;
Das hat eine wundersame,
Gewaltige Melodei.

Den Schiffer im kleinen Schiffe
Ergreift es mit wildem Weh;
Er schaut nicht die Felsenriffe,
Er schaut nur hinauf in die Höh'.

Ich glaube, die Wellen verschlingen
Am Ende Schiffer und Kahn;
Und das hat mit ihrem Singen
Die Lorelei getan.


So now it`s back to Bonn, and back to school. Back to modern Germany.