Frankfurt

After one month in Frankfurt our guest from Kenya is summing up thoughtfully.

Christmas came early for me this year. For the time I have been in Frankfurt, virtually every day has been Christmas Day because I have had a Christmas experience every waking day. I have had Christmas dinners – Schmalzbrot, Rinderroulade mit Wirsing und Kartoffelpüree and all – and “specials” such as stollen. I have even been taking notice of the decorations in every building that I visit. This year I will be singing “Joy to the World” with much more meaning.

I have stopped viewing Christmas as a commercial venture and begun recognising the significance of the traditions and practices, some of which go beyond religion but are quite meaningful to the people of Frankfurt. I have listened to the carols, seen the decorations, the candles, the works. It is, in a word, wonderful. And then the snow fell.

What I now consider my “white Christmas” story began at the Römer on November 25 at the opening of the Christmas market, just a few days after my arrival in Frankfurt, and ended with my trip through the “snow-capped” forest in the Taunus mountain range on Thursday. There, I had my “white Christmas” some 878 metres above sea level.

Coming from Kenya, where every day is virtually summer, it was a whole new experience for me. I had never seen snow except on television. And here I walked on it along paths meandering through the forest that is home to the “Christmas trees”. Luckily, the sun shone and made the snow on the trees glitter. It was a sight to behold. My colleagues from the Frankfurter Rundschau Lia Venn and Thomas Stillbauer steered me through the forest as they have been there many times before. And Lia knows the place like the back of her hand.

Walking in the forested hills has never been my idea of a picnic. Forests this size in my country are not safe to be in. There are dangerous animals. But this particular one is a kind of sanctuary which you can withdraw into when you want to meditate or take pleasure in exotic surroundings with plants.

Serenity. That is what defines it. The atmosphere is a guarantee for relaxation and the trees breathe a salubrious breeze to the lives of the people who go up there. “I like it up here because no one demands anything from me. I am at peace with nature and with myself, and if I move quietly enough, I see some animals,” she said, nostalgia written all over her face. At the top of the mountain, the celebratory mood had already been set by the time we got there. There were parents sliding on the snow with their children on wooden contraptions, old folks taking a much deserved midmorning walk and groups of people, young and old, swooning with delight at the panoramic view.

We later left for the museums of the Hessen Park, where German heritage dating back several centuries has been preserved. It was good, but nothing beats the experiences up the hills.