German Joys

German Word of the Week: Muttersaft

Germ ans, we are told, consume more fruit juice than any other nation on the face of the planet, except Canada and the United States (!). As you might expect, this daily activity has been subjected by German agencies to a great deal of careful scrutiny. Here's a chart (g) showing that more than 1/3 of Germans drink fruit juice at least several times a week. There's even an Ordnance on Fruit Juice, Certain Similar Products, and Fruit Nectars (g). Every bottle of serious juice comes with full information about the latest results of official testing designed to certify its purity and organic status.

And, as you might expect, Germans produce a lot of high-quality fruit juice. Sure, you can get Capri Sun and other objectionable fluids (g) here, but real Germans would never drink that syrup. Instead, they'll reach for any number of exotic fruit combinations, or naturally-cloudy apple juice, or the ubiquitous  Apfelschorle, the mixture of apple juice and carbonated water that is Germany's national summer refreshment.

Or, if they're hardcore like me, they'll reach for Muttersaft, which literally translated, means "mother-juice." I know what you're thinking (g). Stop it! Muttersaft refers to the pure, unfiltered, unsweetened first-press juice of a fruit or berry, as the organic-juice producer Rabenhorst (g) informs us on this website. It's thick and syrupy and not at all sweet. You could theoretically drink this stuff straight, but you might dissolve a few teeth that way. Instead, you might add a couple ounces of it to mineral water, or mix up some fabulously astringent cocktails with it. Mix up some linden-tree honey, blueberry and cranberry Muttersaft, mineral water and some ice-cold vodka, and have yourself a 100% organic merry old time!

Bisexual German Word of the Week: Zeh/Zehe

Recently I broke one of my goddamn  toes, and while waiting to have it X-rayed, I did some research on exactly what sort of word 'toe' is in German.

What I found shocked and titillated me. Apparently the word 'toe' bats on both sides of the plate, if you know what I mean. The Oxford/Duden has an entry not only for Der Zeh (masculine) but also Die Zehe (feminine). There's apparently no difference in meaning. Every time I talked about this particular part of my body, someone corrected me, saying "no, it's feminine!" or "wait, I think 'Zeh' is masculine." Being a uniter, not a divider, I was able to assure them that they were both right.

If only the rest of German nouns were so 'easy'...

German Word of the Week: Lichterloh

The one nice thing you can say about forest fires is that they bring mention of one of my favorite German words, lichterloh. Lichterloh is an adverb almost always used in conjunction with the verb "burn," and indicates that something is completely consumed in flames.

Lichterloh is one of those odd orphan words with few relatives in its language -- something like 'disgruntled' in English. Lichter means 'lights,' which would seem to have something to do with fire, but nobody is really sure where the rare suffix 'loh' comes from, except that it may be a color. And lichterloh is not only exotic, but easy on the ears. The 'ch' in the middle is the special German 'ch', a breathy consonant is located about halfway between the English 'h' and 'ch,' and you can savor the long 'oh' at the end.

German Word of the Week: Kaffeesatzleserei

While listening to something-or-other on the radio, I heard the word you see above. And thought to myself: Coffegroundsreadery?

Yes, coffeegroundsreadery! Anglo-Saxons like to read tea leaves, but apparently our swarthier cousins, who are more fond of coffee, read coffee grounds instead. Here's how it's done:

There are at least two forms of coffee reading. Both require that the cup be covered with the saucer and turned upside-down. Some traditions, such as in Romania, require that the sediments in the cup be swirled around the inside of the cup until they cover the majority of the cup's inside surface. Other traditions, such as Turkish and Middle Eastern, do not require this swirling but do require that the cup be turned towards yourself for showing your own fortune. The coffee grounds are given time to settle and dry against the cup before a reading begins.

Whatever you do, don't try this in Israel.

German Word of the Week: Paramentik

So I'm wandering around recently when I come across this sign: "Workshop for Evangelical [i.e., Protestant] Paramentik and Textile Objects." Paramentik? Is it a medication? If so, why are people creating it in a workshop? Perhaps it's a kind of theological doctrine. But then, the same question arises: are we to assume that the Protestants first spend an hours working on the doctrine of "paramentics", and then start knitting "textile objects"? I wouldn't put it past them...

Dict.leo.org comes to the rescue, informing us patiently that Paramentik actually means "vestments," of all things. I'm sure the word has some sort of fascinating Greek origin, which my highly cultivated readers will be happy to inform us of. Go to it, Joysters!

German Word of the Week: Nothaft

So I'm reading through the latest gout of news about The Continuing Crisis, when I come across this:

Interest rates for 30-year fixed-rate mortgage rates fell for the seventh consecutive week, moving these rates to the lowest since the survey began in April 1971," said Frank Nothaft, Freddie Mac chief economist.

I wonder how Frank Nothaft would react if you told him his name was not a German word (g). I guess he probably wouldn't care. But how would he react on being told that if 'nothaft' were a German word, it would mean "emergency custody"? That might prompt some rumination.

And if you told him that the Nazis (would have) used it to terrorize dissidents and minorities? I bet that'd be good for at least 10 minutes of anguished reflection...

German Word of the Week: Insektensauger

Today's German Word of the Week comes to us from the Lahn-Post Lokalanzeiger, proudly serves the community of Lahn, which is near Limburg. This doesn't really bring me much farther, but perhaps this datum is exciting oohs and aahs of recognition from Limburgers. On Page 1 of the August 6th edition, we find an article about the Lahn Post "Beachsoccer" team, which won the "Beachsoccer"-Cup (www.guggmo.de has more details). We're also advised of the Freienfels "Country & Western Games", in which Freienfelsians will be treated to a barbecue, Whisky and Tequila bar, and groovy (fetzig) music from the likes of "Album" and "Arizona." Not to mention "Square-and Line-Dancing" for all.

 

But this post is really about the article "Wasps and Hornets Aren't Monsters." Background: every summer, a plague of smallish yellow wasps descends upon Germany. Starting in mid-July, trillions of these evil little bastards appear from nowhere. They spend all 7 days of their sorry little lives trying vigorously to pollinate your beer. When that fails, they fly under your clothes. A few weeks ago, I was trying to have an adult conversation with a woman about Very Serious Matters when one of these little jackasses began trying to have sex with my nose. How these moronic creatures -- I hesitate to dignify them with the title "insect" -- manage to reproduce is beyond me. During these weeks, I join most Germans in entertaining gruesome fantasies of mass wasp extermination.

 

But not Hans-Juergen Herrman, the wasp-lover from Limburg. Oh no, he would never, ever, ever hurt one of these precious creatures! First, he advises us that we shouldn't gesticulate and run away when a wasp approaches. And if they build a nest on your property, should you immediately drench them with deadly chemicals, and cackle with glee as they write in death-agonies at your feet? Heaven forfend! Instead, you should call Hans-Juergen, and he will show up with his Insektensauger ("Insect-sucker"), apparently some sort of wasp-vacuum. He will suck all your wasps into a bag, drive far away, and release them into his ex-wife's car the wild, so they can gambol about in nature's fair bosom. How very enlightened of him!

 

As for me, I'm all for the deadly chemicals. Unfortunately, you can't get them over here, apparently. Thanks, Green Party!

German Word of the Week(2): Angstschweiss

First, the psychological study, advertised at the University of Duesseldorf:

The translation: "Are you are a healthy man, a student, and are just about to undergo an important oral exam?  Are you prepared to carry a cotton pad in your armpit twice for 90 minutes at a time? Then get in touch with us..." You'll get paid 80 euros, which seems like a fair sum for something I do every day anyway.

Which brings us to a repeat of a GWOW, Angstschweiss, or "fear-sweat."  Comparable to the English-language flop-sweat.  But it involves fear, which, as I've noted before, is a very prominent theme in Northern Europe. All the fearful male readers of this blog (you know who you are) should sign up for the study.  Strange women will smell your sweat, and who knows what could that could lead to....

German Word of the Week: Bauernfängerei

The CDU/CSU has just released a White Paper, "Preserving Creation," that argues for quitting the current plan to quit nuclear energy (Ausstieg aus dem Aussteig, in German).  We just can't do without it, says the CDU, since it's still the cheapest CO2-free way to create energy. 

During a call-in debate on the paper this morning, each side accused the other of Bauernfängerei: simplistic demagogic argument.  "You can't tell people this horrible energy source is compatible with Christianity! That's Bauernfängerei!"  "The idea that energy costs will stay the same if we shut down out reactors is Bauernfängerei!"

Literally translated, it means "farmer-catching" or "peasant-catching."  You can see some in the following video of the North Minehead by-election starting at about 4:30:

German Word of the Week: Tante Emma Laden

From the Niederrheinstrasse in Duesseldorf:

Explanation for non-German-powered™ readers below the fold.