Oktoberfest (No, Not the One in Munich)

Kirdorf Village, marked by its two steeples at sunset

Oh, Kirdorf...

Kirdorf is the small, northwestern neighborhood of Bad Homburg. Nothing about the village jumps out at you, save perhaps the twin steeples. I was told in my first week that if I wanted to get home, look for the two steeples. Though Kirdorf isn't gorgeous or flashy, it definitely has its own identity--something that I've grown to appreciate. When I make my bike ride home from school during the week, I always feel a small sense of satisfaction when I climb the small rise and pass through the traffic light that brings me home to Kirdorf. 

I experience this sense of identity every time I play soccer at the DJK. Though my club is called DJK Bad Homburg, it's true home is Kirdorf. This past Saturday, I got a chance to feel the true unity of Kirdorf in the DJK's Oktoberfest celebration. 

First, a bit about Oktoberfest 

The name "Oktoberfest" (and I shouldn't have to translate it for you) applies to any autumn celebration in Germany. There is the world famous celebration, The Oktoberfest, held in Munich, but it's not like the rest of the country doesn't join in the festivities. Stuttgart holds a version of Oktoberfest called Cannstatter Volksfest, which attracts a cool 3.5 million visitors to place second biggest behind Munich. But it's not only the big cities that host Oktoberfest parties: the tiniest villages, including Kirdorf, can hold their own celebrations. And I don't think it's much of a stretch to say that no matter the size, these parties are fun. 

I may make my way to some of the larger festivals over the next couple weeks, but the Oktoberfest I attended at the DJK is and always will be my first. 

Oktoberfest at the DJK

Following my match on Saturday afternoon and postgame shower and pizza, I walked down to the DJK clubhouse (cabin, as they call it here). The club usually serves drinks and small meals on the weekends, but for this occasion a big (and heated) party tent had been set up--doubling the capacity for tables and benches. Oktoberfest streamers and banners hung from the walls, as well as the DJK's full repertoire of awards, plaques, and posters. You have to feel some respect for an athletic association that's been around for 125 years. The back room had been transformed into a buffet serving only the most traditional German foods, and the bar area was full stocked with large glassware and specialty Oktoberfest beer on tap.  The beer is some of the lighter stuff you find in Germany, but unlike cheap light beer in the US, it's delicious. I couldn't have celebrated my first Oktoberfest without having a liter (grosse) beer. I have to say, it does make you feel pretty powerful.

Many of my soccer friends from both my junior team and the men's team were in attendance, so we stuck together for most of the night. It was easy to slide between groups of people; simply hold up your beer and say "Prost!" and everyone smiles, touches glasses, and takes a sip. 

This wasn't a party for only the soccer players--far from it. Many of the local Kirdorfers made appearances--decked in typical Oktoberfest outfits. And the traditions didn't stop there. The music that carried on through the night was the same songs that one would hear in Munich--and they probably haven't changed in decades! Everyone knew at least the chorus to the songs; (I felt like I did, too, since it seemed the same five songs repeated over and over for four hours). Men, women, and children sung and chanted, and I particularly enjoyed a song that prompted one table group to stand on their chairs, lift the table in their left hands, and gulp beer with their rights in between the slurred verses. 

I have nothing spectacular to report about the venue or any impressive displays the club put on. This celebration was the essence of what Oktoberfest in German culture is all about. It was so simple but so much fun. I can understand why Oktoberfest has evolved into such a tradition, because above all, it is a gloriously entertaining time.