Where the Wild Things Are
If “Where the wild things are” had an annual festival, then Perchten would be it.
Finding myself in a township outside of Munich, Kirchseeon is the home of a pagan demon-banishing ritual brought down by the Bavarian mountain men a century ago, when they were called in to fight a plague affecting the local trees.
Essentially, it’s a bunch of people in hand-crafted wooden monster masks going from home-to-home yelling, singing and dancing in bid to ward off evil spirits. Also, if one of these happens to give you a noogie, apparently it’s good luck — with three rubs to the noggin, I guess I’ll be pretty blessed this year.
The festival cumulates in the town square where the yelling, drumming, singing and dancing climaxes to a synchronised chaos — I was too busy chowing down a wurst and some mulled wine to fend off the cold.
They tell me the costumes are made for minus ten degree weather, so there were many breaks where the masks would come off and let off steam.
Not a bad way to end the holiday — but I think a warm schnapps bar may have been a better option.
tdha
