The Welcoming Committee

So when Bas and I first got here we started going to a little gasthaus that is just one little town over from the town our temporary apartment is in. We live in Munchaurach, and the next town over is named Falkendorf. We can even walk there quite easily. We found that the gasthaus had great schnitzel, and a nice place to sit outside. There was always a group of locals there as well, drinking beer, doing shots and smoking - mostly old men, but some children with them as well. We felt a little like we were under the microscope - after all Falkendorf probably has a population of a couple hundred or so, but like I said - the food was good, and the service pretty decent. And we felt pretty confident in our ability to be friendly and speak decent German.

When Bas's parents came for a visit we decided to take them there on their first night here. So we drove up and parked and made a bt of a spectacle of ourselves when we had to flag down his parents in the street so they didn't drive by - but were very excited to share an authentic Franconian dinner with them.

Bas went in to ask for the "kinderstuhl" which we had taken outside both times before. Bas returned soon and announced that the highchair was broken - AND we were going somewhere else. Turns out that the proprietor informed him (I imagine with a smirk) that it was broken. Bas got the message... we weren't welcome.

Honestly - it didn't surprise me. I guess the scrutiny we seemed to have attracted on our previous visits made it almost seem expected. So we went somewhere else - and had a very nice meal. And of course decided that we wouldn' be checking back to find out when the highchair got fixed. Too bad - they had great schnitzel. We even joked about it when we would drive by - talking about how the little town was probably like the one in Texas Chain Saw Massacre or one of those horror flicks, and that if we tempted fate we'd end up being tortured in some dingey basement and becoming the latest delicacy du'jour for the locals or something!

So it shouldn't have been a surprise when I noticed yesterday that high up on almost every single light post, where no one could possibly tamper with them, was a sign for a political party called the NPD. The signs are red, black and white, with a big Nazi-esque X on them, and proclaim "Sozial geht nur Nazional!" (my spelling is off I'm sure.) So ofcourse I googled the NPD when I got home. Turns out they're the neo-nazi party of modern Germany, very conservative, very anti-foreigner, and basically insane. (Look it up on Wikipedia - they even have a picture of a similar propoganda sign) I can't even believe that there are really people like that out there, let alone enough to fill a small village! Guess that explains the kinderstuhl. And even though I keep thinking about their schnitzel, I guess we definitely won't be going back for more - for fear that an angry mob of local villagers show up at our door in the middle of the night with torches and pitch forks! So much for the welcoming committee...