Kölle Alaaf, my dears, a few very, very jolly days lie behind us, the Cologne carnival is over today. Anyone who has been reading here for a while knows how sacred this wild colourfulness of joy, friendship, melancholy and confetti is to me and how important it was to me that the children also understand why we love this festival so much. What makes it special.
There are so many memories that come up with every song, there are so many people that I don’t usually get to see in the annual hamster wheel, there are so many hugs, appreciative comments, so much swaying, solidarity, lightness and letting go.
In a way, it’s the most un-German festival imaginable, I sometimes think. So wild, so exuberant, so cheerful. It’s so different from the stubborn, bourgeois image of humourless German semi-detached house owners with Schnörres and beer bellies and Weber grills, I always say: Kölle is the Latin America of Germany 😉 With rhythm, passion and ecstasy.
The weeks of the street carnival used to be MY days when the children were small. I went out and left the responsibility at home, I could just be myself again, take care of myself, eat when I wanted, sit when I wanted, do what I wanted. How much energy it gave me to finally be just Lisa again for a few hours, embedded in the best, most appreciative, dearest circle of friends – and at mum-friendly times during the day!
I’m no longer like that, I’ve regained a lot of freedom in my everyday life now that the children are older and more mobile. I can now often just be Lisa in everyday life instead of „Mum of…“ But everything is evolving and now all the children are going out on the piste. Life goes in waves! And then suddenly you go off again with a slightly more uneasy feeling.
Kölle Alaaf! Even the kids are celebrating now
Will everything go well with the children? Oh, some of their friends aren’t going because attacks have been announced. Are we going to let something like this restrict our freedoms? Are we going to tell young people not to stay so close to roads, but rather in the centre in case a crazy person crashes into them in a car? What if someone has more than just a disguise sabre with them?
You can drive yourself crazy over things like this. We also have to let go a bit here and hope. That nothing happens, that they look out for each other in their cliques, that they get to experience the joy of the festival, not the dark side. They are young, they have to try things out, they love carnival, they look forward to it. The best party is the one at school to kick things off, then it’s off to the city. May they be in the right place at the right time and just sing beautiful songs together, hug each other and feel the joy of life, that’s what I wish them so much.
And then I wake up on day 2 of the carnival and there’s a prisoner costume (not folded) in the living room and a rescue sheet next to it. Oh God, it goes through my head. Surely I would have found out if something had happened? And then everything clears up. A friend of mine had injured her knee and while she was being treated in the rescue tent, our boys waited outside – so they didn’t have to freeze, they were given the blanket, which they took with them as a souvenir. They look after each other. And people look after them. Isn’t that a beautiful learning too?
And there are colourful things everywhere in the flat, confetti flying around, music playing – and it’s a state of emergency. A break from the world. Time for joy, togetherness and unforgettable memories. There are always too few (ergo: no!) young people at home, or too many. If there aren’t any, we check their Snapchat location from time to time to find out who is where.
And then suddenly there are so many young people sitting in your kitchen, cooking pasta, laughing their heads off, then jumping out into the garden on the trampoline like they used to, refuelling and then disappearing into the day or night again. In the family chat, it’s suddenly: „Oh man, carnival is just the best thing ever. So many people on the street, where do they all come from? Where else are they? Plus the dream weather… just live.
And with us grown-ups in the south town pub? The woman who was still fearing for her life dances with the guy who has just become unemployed through no fault of his own, the postman talks to the professor, everyone sings „Only love wins“ at the top of their voices and then my new favourite song Ding Südkurv is sung and tears run down my face with „Yes to life“ and emotion. The song by Kasalla is about support for their children, at the end of this text I’ll show you a few excerpts.
While I’m writing this text, the big one is sleeping outside, the boys have four to six overnight guests, there are lots of shoes downstairs again, it’s a good feeling that everything has gone well for everyone in the last few days and it’s a melancholy feeling that the great time is already over again.
Yesterday evening, I had one last performance with the choir, performing carnival songs for the prince and burning Nubbel (and with him all the sins of the last few days, it’s all very Christian in the complex here). And what remains is the fire and love of the last few days, which we can now take with us into spring and the reawakening of nature. Thank you for letting us have all this here. It is more than special. Especially now and in these times.
As promised, here are a few more excerpts of the text that I feel so strongly about:
I would like to tell you that you are never alone (I would like to tell you that you are not alone)
Even if you don’t have a clue about it (And if you don’t have a clue about it)
Even if you don’t get it, weil du noch vill zo klein bes (And if you don’t understand it because you’re still too small)
Du verliers niemols die Dauerkaat zo mingem Hätz (You’ll never lose the season ticket to my heart)
I spröh dinge Name op jede Stroßebahn (I spray your name on every tram)
Un wenn et düster weed, maach ich et Flutleech aan (And when it gets dark, I switch on the floodlight)
I ben ding Südkurv, dinge Ultrafan (I am your Südkurve (note: that’s where the fans of 1. FC Köln stand in the stadium), your Ultrafan)
Keiner lösch dat Füür, dat för immer in mir brennt (No one extinguishes the fire that burns in me forever?
E Levve lang ding Südkurv ohne Ävver oder Wenn (A lifetime of your Südkurve)
Denn ich bliev för immer dinge Hooligan, dinge jrößte Fan (Because I remain your hooligan forever, your biggest fan)
Manchmol foult dich et Levve op däm Äscheplatz (Sometimes life fouls you on the ash field)
Dann ich sing ding Hymne, kumm, stonn widder op, minge Schatz (Then I sing your anthem, come, get up again, mein Schatz)
Ejal, wat uch passeet, zesamme durch et Füür (No matter what happens to you, together through the fire)
Deef em Hätze tätowiert, immer nur zo dir (Tattooed deep in the heart, always only to you)
Un em jegnerische Fanblock stonn ich jäje en Million (And in the opposing fan block I stand against a million)
I mean, wat ich saare, you’ll never walk alone (I mean what I say: You’ll never walk alone)
(…)
Wenn duo mich röfs, dann ben ich do (When you call me, I’ll be there)
Janz ejal, wann, janz ejal, wo (No matter when, no matter where)
Mi Hätz brennt för dich leechterloh (My heart burns brightly for you)
