And what are you going to do, Lauren?

Well today, folks, I chased a giant puppet in Berlin.

(Let me apologize in advance for the layout of this post. Blogger and I are in a major fight, and I think Blogger just came out on top.)

Filling my time while we are in Germany is going to be something of a challenge, so I've been trying to take every opportunity to get out of the apartment and see new things. Today (and yesterday) I partook in a theatrical "performance" called Die Riesen Kommen (The Giants Arrive). Yesterday supposedly "strange things" would be happening in parts of the city. It turned out these so-called strange things were as follows:

A geyser bursting from the concrete at Schlossplatz and an anchor stuck in the ground in front of the Brandenburg Gate.

Honestly, not as strange as I had hoped.

So I headed out again this morning a bit wary of what might await me. I arrived at the Red Rathaus (near Alexanderplatz) to discover a growing crowd of expectant Germans waiting in front of a giant sleeping puppet. I joined the masses and anxiously expected the start of the show.

(Once things started happening they happened entirely in French, so the following commentary is a mere assumption about what is actually happening.)

The Little Giantess was sleeping in Berlin across from her boat (not pictured because the crazy man in front of me kept putting up his camera exactly when I did.)

The children in front of me passed the time by couting down from ten for at least 15 minutes, in hopes that the puppet would awake. It never worked, but it did help me work on my numbers.

Finally, the Little Giantess awoke only to be immediately soaked by a fake rain shower (which was entirely unnecessary as it was actually raining throughout this part of the performance.)

After a good soaking, she was more appropriately dressed by her puppeteers in a fetching yellow slicker and then she walked right up to the Berlin mayor to deliver a letter, which contained the picture of her uncle, for whom she is looking. The mayor welcomed her to Berlin and may or may not have offered his help. Because he spoke in German, I can't be sure.

Then she was hoisted into the air and set down on her boat, which was being hauled around by a massive 18-wheeler. All throughout the performance, a band was rocking out behind her on their own trailer and a woman was narrating her story (in French, of course).

She road the boat around the Rathaus with throngs of people running, shoving, and stopping abruptly (to take pictures) around her. Along the way she creepily blinked, opened and shut her mouth and looked from side to side. Apparently the Little Giantess doesn't have much to say.

You would not believe the yoga-esque bending and squatting I did in an attempt to capture both the puppet and the TV tower. I may have toppled more than a few Germans as I practically laid on the ground trying to get this picture (and still I couldn't get it). That thing is crazy tall.

She's still just riding that boat.

After her circuit around the Rathaus, she paused, hopped off the boat and proceeded to walk a second time around the building. I missed much of the change-over to perambulating because I was distracted by a little cutie, shivering pitifully on the ground next to me.

It took a cadre of people to make this girl move. These men were literally throwing their body weight against her strings to lift her legs. You know, it takes a village...

Here is the Little Giantess leaving the Rathaus for a more exciting walk through Berlin. I didn't stay much beyond this because it was drizzling, ridiculously cold, and I hadn't had coffee yet.

Two further things to note, before I leave you though. As I'm standing watching the puppet, something nudged my leg. What was it, you ask. Another adorable dog, begging me to steal/save it from its hapless owner. I could have taken the owner of this one, no problem.

Look at that face! (I am in serious Lucy-withdrawal.)

Finally, I decide to go, when all of a sudden the puppet show stops, the team strips the Little Giantess of her rain coat (which, by the way she probably still needed) and she proceeded to do some light stretching there in the street. Here she is, doing some squats:

That's more squats than I've done lately.

My honest assessment of the performance is that it's really strange, bordering on scary-movie material. However, the mechanics of the performance are remarkable, the music is interesting and the crowds are all smiles and laughter (an unusual site in Berlin). Definitely worth the near-frozen state of my fingers.

John and I plan to go tomorrow to watch the continuation of the drama - a meeting between the Little Giantess and her uncle, who will be emerging from some body of water in the city, donning his scuba gear.

While perhaps not the most productive day, it was interesting. Now back to Tolstoy and the epic life of Anna Karenin!