OK, a medical update and then we’ll get to the real business: Octoberfest!
My “naughty” veins reverted on Monday and it took the good doctor 4 tries before we got the blood going! Even so, the machine’s alarm kept sounding because the flow kept stopping. Argh!!! Just when I thought that bit of stubbornness was behind me. But in the end, the lab got the “stuff” they needed and I got my dose of natural killer cells chased by two flu shots. 
I celebrated by having lunch afterwards with another patient who is from San Francisco. She was very kind to talk to me at length about her experience at the clinic back in May when I was doing research on Dr. Kübler and his treatment. Without divulging too much of her confidentiality, I think it’s OK to tell you that her results at the clinic have been VERY  positive. I also had breakfast with another patient from the clinic the previous week who was back to have her blood count taken after finishing her treatment in July. She emailed me when she got home to say that her results were GREAT—the specifics: I’m still waiting to hear. I am so happy for them and so encouraged for my own case. 
Something very real is happening at this clinic and I just wish the American doctors would get interested or probably, more accurately, that the FDA would stop stalling around and make this treatment available in the states. In fact, the machine they use to filter our blood is manufactured in the US! Supposedly, the treatment is completely non-toxic and works on the premise that the body wants to heal itself and sometimes just needs a little help. And one of the amazing things about it is: once the natural killer cells learn to recognize the tumor cells and start fighting against them, they never forget and that information gets passed down from generation to generation of immune system cells. Now that’s what I call education! 
I hate to sound too cynical, but  from the reading and observing I’ve done, I think the barbaric nature of and dismal cure rate from cancer treatment in our country has less to do with the unwillingness of doctors to look into alternatives and more to do with the pharmaceutical companies. Maybe if they could find a way to make as much money off of using a patient’s own cells as they do using expensive chemotherapy drugs, we’d see this treatment suddenly become available in the US…(And, I haven’t even gotten to see “Sicko” yet!)
OK, enough  politics and on to some good old-fashioned Bavarian fun: Octoberfest–or as it is called here: die wies’n (remember: pronounce the “w” like an English sounding “v”: Dee Veesen)! I  tried to follow all of the “Octoberfest Tips”, posted in last week’s blog,  that were passed on to me by Silke, the generous woman who is letting me stay in this apartment in Munich: 
-don’t go alone
-don’t go on the weekend and if so then really in the morning (10:00)
-only go if the weather is nice
-eat a haehndel
-only go when you are in a good mood
-expect many drunk people
-HAVE FUN!
I went yesterday, which was a Tuesday, at 11 am, with Frank and his almost one-year-old daughter, Lola. It was perfectly sunny and warm, I was in a fantastic mood, and I left before I saw too many drunk folks—or became one myself! Frank is a good friend of Angelika’s (my Santa Cruz friend who invited me to spend several days at her parents’ home in Northern Bavaria that really kicked-off my time here at the beginning of the trip).  
(For Octoberfest visuals, go to: http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=4qxwvo0u.2zy706u6&x=0&y=-ibjpp5 which is a Kodak sight where I have put the Octoberfest photos I took yesterday since I haven’t figured out how to program the camera or the computer so that each photo uses only 2 megabytes or less—the limit of what this blog can handle.) 
Silke also wrote to let me know that die weis’n is not located outside of town, but in the middle of the city. I found this out yesterday when I took the subway and it was only 6 stops from home. Speaking of the subway, the first 2 photographs were taken while riding the  escalator up from the subway station. I turned around and snapped them just before being dumped into the middle of the Octoberfest extravaganza. I have to say that the subway ride to the event was an experience in and of itself. 
The train was packed when it came into the station so I just followed the others and smashed my way into a car that already looked like it was busting at the seams. I was literally nervous the doors were going to take off my nose when they closed. I counted almost 50 of us just crammed into the space between where the two sets of facing doors are. (When we got to our stop, I swear I left with someone’s embroidered lederhosn tattooed to my bare arm!) Actually, everyone in the subway car seemed to be laughing and joking. And because a good majority were decked-out in the authentic Bavarian dress–suede and embroidered short pants and suspenders—lederhosn–for the men and pretty, apron-covered, bust-adorning dresses for the women (the secret of which, I’m told, is to buy the blouse a size or two too small…)—dirndls–for the women—I had plenty to admire while I was praying that I wouldn’t suddenly become prone to claustrophobia. The fun thing is that the “locals” don’t reserve these special outfits just to wear to die wies’n. You see people dressed this way all over town during the two weeks and three weekends that Octoberfest is held. If I were Bavarian, I’d be sporting mine proudly!
I always thought that Octoberfest happened all over Germany; but, in fact, it is a tradition that began in Munich when one of its princes got married (I hope I’m remembering this right) and decided to share the celebration with the whole town by making a party and giving out beer and sausages and pretzels to all. Everyone had such a great time that they decided to do it again the next year and so the tradition has continued and expanded for how many years? A long time—by American standards, anyway. So, of course, it’s not just the Munich people that come out for Octoberfest, but there is significant representation by American, Australian and Japanese tourists (to name a few) as well. Something like 10 million people participate in the Octoberfest each year! 
So, a few comments about the other pictures you’ll see if you go to the aforementioned website:
•	Octoberfest looks a lot like a county fair in our country, with lots of food and souvenir booths. I just had to take a photo of the booth that exclusively featured one of my all time favorite foods: pickles! (Next to this booth, there was a haunted house that was playing salsa music setting up a nice competition with the ubiquitous Octoberfest polka music. You gotta’ love it!)
•	There are all kinds of rides. The carousels were my favorite. Not only did they have the prettiest ones I’ve ever seen for children, but they have adult versions that rotate incredibly slowly, in which people are sitting on stools at little tables drinking—you guessed it: beer!
•	There are a lot of stands selling elaborately decorated, heart-shaped, gingerbread   cookies that are decorated with German words I couldn’t quite translate. I asked my trusty wies’n tour guide Frank about it and he pointed out all the couples walking around wearing these cookies hanging from ribbons around their necks. Supposedly, they buy them for each other to profess their love. Ahhh….isn’t that sweet?
•	Not only was it Family Day yesterday, but it looked like it was Class Day, too. I couldn’t help but take a picture of a teacher leading her class around. Don’t worry, they seem to restrict the children’s tour to the rides—just BIG kids in the beer tents.
•	Did you notice that I got a photo of Bill Clinton in lederhosn?
•	OK, you’re gonna’ see a picture of me enthusiastically biting into the biggest pretzel you’ve ever seen and hoisting a liter stein of brew, but, whereas I was eating the first with gusto, I was only sampling the second to see what all the fuss is about. Pretty vunderbah suds, I have to admit. (Only beer made here in Munich is allowed to be sold at die wies’n. No Coors, no Corona.) And I did eat a haehndel (half a roasted chicken: prima!). 
•	Check out the man waving a gigantic pretzel over his head—he’s calling his friends  over, not alerting the authorities that he’s run out of mustard! 
•	And then there are a lot of photos of the so-called “beer tents”. I’m here to say, they are nothing like the hastily constructed Quonset Huts for drinking tournaments I was imagining. As you can see, they are quite creatively designed on the outside (the lion below the Lowenbrau insignia is animated and is roaring: “Looow-eeennn-brauuuu”) and breathtakingly decorated on the inside. Frank said it takes them two months to construct all these buildings with their adjacent beer gardens. There are at least a dozen of these “tents”, some with second stories for additional seating, and each with a separate raised area for the live band. They looked to me like they each seat hundreds of people. Frank assured me that when we were there at noon it was half as crowded and rowdy as it would be that same evening and NOTHING compared to a weekend night. I’ve heard that the tents get full at some point in the afternoon and then they close the doors. That’s when the REAL party begins with people standing on the benches, arms linked and swaying like some massive and lurching kelp bed, singing their favorite Bavarian songs along with the band! If only I was brave enough for such revelry…
•	I could still go back this weekend…
•	Another thing Frank told me is that a lot of offices bring their employees to die wies’n each fall. He also said that some employees look forward to bonding with their colleagues at Octoberfest even more than the annual Christmas party… (It’s not a cheap party either since it’s customary to wash down your chicken and pretzel with 2-3 steins of beer!  To give you an idea: one stein of beer costs over $10 and the chicken costs about the same. Pretzels are only $5. You do the math.) 
•	And finally, a word about “mein klein schwein”—or the little pink pig that keeps popping-up in photos—from the Alps to our wedding altar! Howard “adopted” him a number of years ago at a garage sale and for some reason, when we started dating, the pig would show up in the darndest places: in the empty seat next to me at a jazz show in San Francisco, beside the salt and pepper shaker at a nice restaurant, peeking out of Howard’s shirt pocket as we rode The Big Dipper at the Boardwalk…One thing led to another, and soon, the pig was taking trips with us. In fact, we took so many photographs of him, he should have his own photo album! Howard wanted me to keep the pig in Germany but I didn’t think I could handle the responsibility. I politely declined until the day I took Howard to the Munich airport for his return flight back to the Cruz, when, at the very last moment, I yelped, “I NEED the pig!” So, now “mein klein schwein” can boast of not only having seen the leaning tower of Pisa, the great carved doors of the duomo in Florence, the Sistine Chapel and the Pantheon in Rome, but, he can also heave a sigh of relief for not being roasted and turned into a sausage sandwich at the Octoberfest!  
When next I write here, my mom and neice, Ella, will be here visiting!!! More tales to tell!
Proust! And love,
Kathleen 
P.S. I want to apologize to any native Muchenites for the many errors I’m sure I’ve made in my innocent attempt to share what I’ve learned about Octoberfest. I truly had a delightful time and would like to come back next year—just under different circumstances—and bring all my friends. But, we’ll need to brush up on our German drinking songs first!
				
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