Silvester und Feuerwerk

I guess every society needs an opportunity to cut loose every once in a while, and it seems that Berlin, if not all of Germany, does so on Silvester (New Year's). In terms of numbers, the gathering in front of the Brandenburg Gate rivals, if not surpasses, America's Times Square's celebration, and the drunken merriment is certainly comparable. We opted for a quieter evening, having been preemptively warned by several locals that Silvester in Berlin would be dangerous. We heeded the warning, albeit not really understanding what that meant: there aren't really guns here, and people don't drive enough to make drinking and driving a serious problem. We had heard that Feuerwerk (fireworks) can get out of hand, but in this densely packed city of 3.4 million people, what could that possibly mean outside of a few harmless sparklers?

Our first clue that something was amiss was that, starting a couple days before the special evening, fireworks were available everywhere. Imagine your local supermarket selling Saturn Rockets, huge Roman candles, and all manner of light-up-the-sky pyrotechnics to the general public. Then we began to hear the random sounds of black cats exploding periodically over the next few days, which we automatically equated with the more familiar sounds of gunfire. On our way to the movie theatre on New Year's Eve, some punk kids threw a firework down on us from their apartment perch overhead (Later that night, despite the snow we took the longer alternative route home). By the time we returned home, the steady thunder of Feuerwerk relentlessly echoed around us. The festivities soon began at the Brandenburg Gate, but you probably would have been hard-pressed to notice because of all the explosions reverberating down the snowy streets and lighting up the sky between buildings with reds and greens. We watched as kids and adults launched rockets high into the sky and jettisoned missile-like objects every which way, including a couple aimed I swear right at our balcony. The pandemonium lasted for hours. Man am I glad we weren't out in it!

The next day the streets and public spaces looked like a ticker-tape parade had come through town. What is so bizarre is that this occurs in the same orderly and mostly restrained culture where neighbors complain about the sounds of shoes in the apartments overhead; where I must be sensitive about depositing my glass bottles in recycling bins because of noise; where acts of public nonsense evoke scornful looks. Many neighborhoods even enjoy official Lärmschutz (noise protection). So for everyone to suddenly disregard these social norms is baffling. I can't say for certain that all German cities behave with such wild abandon on New Year's - in fact, I would be shocked if those in the south of Germany would be willing to deal with either the noise or clean-up involved afterwards. But here in Berlin, it must be a price worth paying for a night of fun. For us, it was at least entertaining.

If you have two and a half minutes, I filmed some of the amateur fireworks outside our balcony. A few things to note: the constant noise, the rockets sailing over the building next to us, and our surprised reactions. You're getting a few minutes; this chaos went on for a few hours.