Crowd swimming in the Christmas Market

You knew it was coming, a Christmas market post. Living in Aachen it’s virtually impossible to avoid. In Germany alone there are thousands of Weihnachtsmärkte (Christmas markets), from the larger cities with their respectively larger markets (Munich, Berlin, Cologne), to even the smallest of villages will have some kind of Christmas related event (most commonly in the form of a market). The opening of Christmas markets is somehow connected to Advent; Aachen’s market opened a week before the first day of Advent, and runs until the 23^rd of December. Not all markets run that long, or are even open from morning until night.

It’s no wonder Aachen’s market is considered one of the larger. We’re quite close to the border of France, Belgium and the Netherlands; it’s also a popular destination for British people as well. There are of course tourists from all over the world in addition; bringing estimates to 1,5 million visitors per season. Walking around you hear all kinds of languages, and announcements made over the loudspeaker for security are in German, French, English and Dutch. During the day it’s packed with school kids and tourists, and at night it fills further when even the locals come out to meet up with family, friends and co-workers.

With more than 120 Stände (stalls), you can quench any thirst or satiate any holiday cravings. There’s the standard Glühwein, or Lumomba (hot chocolate served with amaretto or Bailey’s). There’s Eierpunsch (I guess something similar to eggnog), there’s even Jägertee (tea served with Jägermeister). If you’re feeling noshy (fun fact: nosh is another German loan word from “noschen” the verb that means the same), there’s no shortage of savory and sweet, whether it’s Pommes frittes (fries), pizza, fish or my personal favorite Rostbratwurst, or Lebkuchen (kind of spicy cake), Pfannkuchen (pancakes filled with your choice of fruit), Crêpes and Waffels, to even cotton candy, licorice, chocolate without end and Gebrannte Mandeln (candied, toasted almonds), you’ll find something to enjoy that quickly becomes a holiday ritual, as reflexive as wearing your winter coat.

If you’re not hungry (or full), you can spend even more time cruising around purchasing a range of decorations and gifts, a lot of which are made locally or at least in Germany. I personally enjoy the woodwork and lace. The air is filled with the sound of a humming crowd sometimes accompanied by a choir singing or musicians playing in the streets, and pathways are warmly lit and trimmed with Christmas plants and almost every shop has Christmas decorations. It is indeed a sight to behold.

Since Christmas markets are such beloved holiday "musts," it’s almost always packed. If you go on a Friday night for example, it’s a sea of people bustling around. This unavoidable mass (similar in size to public viewing broadcasts of World Cup games) led me to fine tune a skill I’d like to coin as crowd swimming. You’re no doubt familiar with the concept of crowd surfing, which you would do at some kind of performance, where you trust in the sea of people to pass you around much as an ocean moves a surfer on their board. It would obviously be a bit awkward if you tried to crowd surf at a Christmas market, as the crowd isn’t compact and stationary as it is at a concert, but rather alive and flowing much like a body of water. Instead of being transported via the surface water, it becomes necessary to use currents to your advantage in getting you from one stand to the next. You have to hone a kind of tunnel vision, where you know what your desired destination point is, and you can kind of focus in on it, enabling you to see the most direct route and get through the current obstacles as smoothly as possible. Notice I said “current,” as the obstacles are ever changing, one second it’s an elderly couple, the next it’s a pack of school kids, then it’s a crowd of university students (who may or may not be on their way to class/exams), suddenly it’s a mom with her baby and toddler in toe (adorably rugged up for the nippy temperatures), and people snapping pictures at every angle. It’s properly full of people.
So I see the movement therein as similar to this water metaphor in crowd surfing, only instead instead of letting yourself be transported, you’re moving around whatever is in front of you at the moment always with your end point in mind, swooping to the left to allow space for a wheelchair, perhaps a quick pivot to give way to the couple holding hands always looking over your shoulder to locate your partner lest you suddenly find yourself missing your other half and have to “plant,” yourself until you make visual contact again. (First is from a 2010 World Cup public viewing on the market place)

 Another physical capability that must be trained in such crowded events is the ability to transport drinks for a group without spilling. The aforementioned Glühwein is often served in charming little boots. Some stands serve in conventional round mugs, but enough serve the magically warming beverage in these festive boots. Imagine this, you and some friends are meeting up at the market, once everyone has arrived it becomes necessary to purchase the first round. Depending on the skill of the procurer, it may be a 1 or 2 person operation. Once you get to the actual bar, and order your 6 servings, then you have to get back to your posse through the swarm of thirsty visitors that has amassed since you’ve been waiting. You learn to use every centimeter of your foot as you carefully navigate through the huddle (bonus points if there’s snow on the ground). It’s also not unlike when you were a kid and would pour yourself a healthy bowl of cereal filled with milk, those steps from the counter to where you were going to eat were careful and precise. Such is the dexterity required for retrieving a round of this warm treat, keep in mind spilling one creates some kind domino effect where the others tremble sending streams down your fingers, then you’re left with the unfortunate sticky hands/clothes and you may have slopped on another person, a real Christmas market fowl.

(Hexenhof, a crowded Glühwein vendor). Despite the crowds, I still find the Christmas market to be a wonderful place. I enjoy it each year just as much as the last.