'Tis the Season for German Christmas Markets During the festive season, the scent of roasted almonds

and mulled wine fill the streets of German cities as shoppers in mittens and gloves pour over handmade ornaments and other goodies at Germany's Christmas markets. A traditional Christmas shopping experience in Frankfurt Christmas markets are a centuries-old tradition that connects the Advent season -- the four weeks before Christmas -- to the baser pleasures of shopping. And even though Christmas in Germany also means tinsel and lights and extended shopping hours, it is the markets that set the country off from its Christian neighbors. A typical Christmas market consists of wooden stalls perched on a site in the center of the city, where people shove past each other to buy Christmas decorations and stop for a chat over a mug of mulled wine. A nativity scene is usually on display and often musicians, singers and dance clubs offer entertainment from a central stage. Long tradition Since the 15th century, merchants have traveled to Dresden to display their wares. To this day, from Nov. 24 until Dec. 24, shoppers flock to the market in the city center which also features a Christmas pyramid, woodcarvings and a stollen festival, where a nearly four-ton heavy version of the fruit-cake-like German Christmas specialty that Dresden is famous for will be dished up.

The Augsburg market lights up the night Cologne has six Christmas markets, one of which is situated next to the city's gothic cathedral. The cathedral's towers, reaching some 150 meters (490-feet) into the winter sky, make the giant Christmas tree in the middle of the setting appear quite small. In the four weeks of December during which the markets are open, around 2 million people come to Cologne, according to Karl-Heinz Merfeld of the Cologne Tourism Association. "The Christmas market industry is still important and the tourists who come here are usually really excited -- above all the English and Dutch -- because they aren't familiar with these kinds of markets with the music and the lights," he said. In Augsburg's old market, once called the Lebkuchenmarkt after the gingerbread-like cookie calledlebkuchen it sold, visitors still can find numerous varieties of the baked goods. Centuries' old tradition No trip to the Christmas market is complete without a bratwurst sausage or a cup of German mulled wine, which is spiced with cinnamon and cloves. It is said to have originated in India, where the drink was prepared with water, alcohol, sugar and spices. Apparently the British then brought the recipe to Europe in the 18th century. Folklore has it that at the Christmas market in Nuremberg, Germany's most famous, someone first added red wine to the mixture and created what's now known asglhwein. These days, about every third stall sells the stuff.

Backer Thomas Schmidt with tons of the Christmas specialty, stollen, in Dresden Still, Christmas markets have come a long way since they were first introduced in Germany. Dresden is said to have had the first, in the 15th century, and Nuremberg followed suit in 1697. In 1820, the first Christmas market was held in Cologne and restricted to locals who could buy toys and food but no alcoholic beverages. Back to the past Now Cologne holds a medieval Christmas market where the salespeople wear wool clothes and wooden shoes and pursue medieval chores like blacksmithing. The smell of burning wood wafts through the air, and candles illuminate the setting. Nothing as profane as reibekuchen or potato pancakes is for sale; hungry visitors can snack on unleavened bread freshly baked in ovens heated with wood. Nor isglhwein available. Instead, thirsty souls drink mead. Since Christmas markets didn't exist during medieval times, one of the organizers drew a tenuous link to the markets held long ago. "The emphasis is on a market where there is peace and quiet as opposed to the other Christmas markets where the turbulences of every-day life are dominant," he said. A selection of other Christmas markets around Germany: * Dortmund (until Dec. 23) with 300 stands of art, decorations and toys * Munich (Nov. 25 to Dec. 24) on Marienplatz * Berlin (until Dec. 24) on Alexanderplatz

* Nuremberg (Nov. 25 to Dec. 24) Against the historical backdrop of the city's main market * Rdesheim (until Dec. 23) with 120 stands from 12 states in the romantic old town * Bremen (Nov. 24 to Dec. 23) near the town hall * Frankfurt (Nov. 23 to Dec. 22) in the central shopping district * Leipzig (Nov. 24 to Dec. 22) Shopping and concerts in nearby churches * Hamburg (until Dec. 23) * Wiesbaden (until Dec. 23) a historical craft market * Weimar (Nov. 25 to Dec. 22) the town hall becomes a giant Advent calendar DW.DE

Germany's Gingerbread Giant At the cookie manufacturer Lambertz in Aachen, the factories are running at full capacity to meet the current demands. The company is the largest German producer of gingerbread cookies and now exports worldwide. It's a hard choice... Unless you have a cold, you will not miss the smell of sweets in the air at the omnipresent Christmas markets in German cities and towns. One unmistakable scent is that of gingerbread. The Lambertz cookie company, based in Aachen, Germany, makes its money off of it. With sales over 400 million ($532 million), Lambertz is the main player on the German Christmas cookie market. And it is seducing sweet tooths now in North America and eastern Europe. Lambertz's ingredients include hazelnuts, walnuts, almonds, candied orange and lemons, honey, flour, sugar, eggs, marzipan and most importantly, spices: Anis, ginger, coriander,

cloves, cinnamon -- just to name a few -- are all combined to produce a variety of cookies, including the trademark "Printen" cookie. The origins of the cookie are uncertain. Some proudly speculate that Charlemagne, whose throne still stands in Aachen, was the inventor of the rectangular cookie. But that is just speculation. Supplier of church and city hall Lambertz is sole supplier to Aachen's cathedral One thing is certain: The Lambertz tradition dates back to 1688 when the family bought the rights to establish a bakery on Aachen's main market. The name of the bakery was called Zur Sonne -- in reference to the reigning monarch in France at that time, Louis XIV, the Sun King. For over three centuries Lambertz, who still use the sun in their logo, has been the exclusive supplier to both the Aachen cathedral and city hall. In 1820, the first "Printen" was produced, said current sole owner, Hermann Bhlbecker, a descendant of the Lambertz family. It takes a strong jaw to bite into the cookies. There is also the chocolate covered variety, created by accident in the late 19th century by one of the family's daughters. Earlier, the cookies were produced laboriously by hand. The forefathers of the company would be proud of the modern production lines where a scent of Christmas emanates from the cookies as they glide past. Plants in eastern Europe Gingerbread or "Printen" do not hold a firm foothold just in Germany. In eastern Europe, particularly where Germans once lived, gingerbread is beloved, Bhlbecker said. The aroma of gingerbread belongs to the Christmas tradition in the German-speaking regions in central and eastern Europe. Besides the six factories in Germany, Lambertz has a plant in Katowice, Poland to cater to the markets in Poland, the Czech Republic and Hungary. Now, Lambertz is also finding out that North Americans have grown fond of their various baked goods.

Bhlbecker said they print "German cookies" or "European cookies" on the boxes for the large supermarket chains in North America. Hermann Bhlbecker Some 3,500 employees work for Lambertz. Bhlbecker (photo) took over the company 28 years ago as sole owner and manager. He said he feels a deep responsibility for the welfare of his workers and Germany in general.This is reflected in some of the numerous awards Bhlbecker has won of late. In 2002 he was honored as the Entrepreneur of the Year in Germany. One year later, he was added to the list of Best Entrepreneurs of the World. All this a small bit of sunshine, like in the company logo, at a time where gloom usually wins the economic headlines in German newspapers.

Santa's Other Workshop: Thuringia NORTH, SOUTH, EAST, WEST: GERMANY'S FOUR CORNERS 1 Northern Germany's Literary Houses 2 Platt and Proud 3 Sylt: In Winter, a Mellower Pleasure 4 More Beach up North 5 Climbing the Windmills of Schleswig-Holstein 6 Rhine River Transformed Into Nearly Pristine Water Stream 7 The Rhine River's Gold Rush 8 The Business of Carnival 9 Vogelsang Castle: In the Shadow of the Third Reich 10 Eastern German Town Boasts Cutting-Edge Technology 11 Blame it On the Bratwurst 12 Santa's Other Workshop: Thuringia 13 Six Centuries of Sweet Success 14 Catch a Wave in Germany's California 15 Neuschwanstein Castle Modernized for Visitors

16 Reinventing the Bavarian Myth 17 Bavaria Says "Gr Gott" in Chinese The southern Thuringian Forest, home to makers of toys and glass Christmas ornaments, is known in Germany as Christmas country. A snowy paradise Scarcely any other town has been so renowned for its toy making as the southern German town of Sonneberg, which lies on the tourist area referred to as the "German Toy Road." Villas and workshops Back in the 1920s, the town shipped toys, often handmade, to the rest of the world. Although history played its part in phasing out much of the business during the course of the century -- this part of the country became East Germany during World War II -- there are still a number of toy makers in the region, and the tradition lives on. A stroll through the town shows the signs of the wealth the toy business brought: villas of former toy manufacturers, erstwhile trading establishments and workshops, town halls and schools. There is also the German Toy Museum, the oldest in the country. It attracts visitors to Sonneberg from all over the world, with some 60,000 items in its collection, 6,000 exhibit pieces, and a unique library of toy history. There you can read about how arduous a task it was to make the filigree toys from the early 19th century. The top floor of the toy

museum is dedicated to dolls. Competition blues In the area around Sonneberg, most families were in some way tied to the making of toys. After the region became part of East Germany, the businesses were nationalized. Today, the challenge for the remaining toy makers is to compete on the open market against toys made in low-wage countries. While toys are important to a German Christmas, so are Christmas trees -- and with the trees, the decorations. Lauscha also makes these plain red christmas ornaments The cradle of glass Christmas tree decorations is the small Thuringian city of Lauscha. In 1835, a human glass eye was made in the town, adding to its international renown for glassmaking. Christmas ornaments In Lauscha, the Museum of Glass Art documents the origins of ornament making. In the beginning, cotton batting was shaped into winter motifs, covered with decorative paper, and covered with clear paste and glittery glass dust. Today in Lauscha, "Weinachtsland," or "Christmas Land," is open year round. You can see the breakable artworks being created, and buy them, too: chubby cheeked angels, silvery Christmas trees and icicles, colorful birds with feathery tails, exotic fruits, Santa

Claus on a sled or a motorbike -- over 10,000 different ornaments in all.

Round-the-Clock Shopping Comes to Germany Now that Germany's unpopular store closing law has been scrapped, state legislatures have started liberalizing opening hours, and permitting round-the-clock shopping six days a week. During special events such as the World Cup soccer games this past summer, store opening hours were liberalized North Rhine Westphalia passed a state law on Thursday that permits stores in Cologne, Dsseldorf and Essen, among other cities, to stay open 24 hours a day from Monday to Saturday, and on four Sundays or holidays a year. The densely populated western state follows the lead of the Berlin state legislature last week, which in addition to the Monday through Saturday 24 hour rule, will stores to be open on Sundays ten days a year. This past summer, Germany's unpopular Ladenschlussgesetz or store closing law was scrapped in a move to shift federal power to Germany's sixteen states, several which have been expected to expand their store opening hours regulations, which used to be among the most restrictive in Europe. Europe's most deregulated shopping legislation Shop until you drop? The economically depressed eastern states of SaxonyAnhalt and MecklenburgWestern Pomerania

are also expected to completely deregulate shopping hours six days a week, while retailers in the state of Rhineland-Palatinate, which borders on France, will be permitted to remain open until 10 pm during the week. Up until now, the fifty-year-old Ladenschlussgesetz, which has undergone numerous reforms over the last 17 years, mandates stores can be open from 6 a.m. to 8 p.m. on weekdays and Saturdays, and imposes a general ban on Sunday opening. Exceptions include florists in the vicinity of hospitals and shops at airports and railway stations. Before 1989, stores were only allowed to open until 6:30 p.m. on weekdays and 2:00 p.m. on Saturdays, with many smaller general stores closing even earlier. Unions and churches critical of extended shopping hours The law was deeply unpopular with German consumers, but defended by unions, which argued that longer hours did not necessarily contribute to higher revenues and that they posed a threat to smaller family-owned shops, which could not compete with the longer opening hours and resources of large department stores and supermarket chains. The churches have also been strong critics of store hours liberalization and in particular of Sunday trading as interfering with family life and promoting excessive consumption. A mega-media store in Berlin plans to experiment with all night shopping on Fridays Wolfgang Huber, spokesman for the Protestant Church, said "Can you imagine an entire month without a single shopping-free Sunday? That means protection of our Sundays and holidays, which are supposed to be guaranteed by our constitution, has completely fallen away." Retailers say that liberal state laws simply give them the latitude to set their own hours, but how long they decide to remain open would depend on public demand for extended hours. Larger chains in central locations, such as C & A at the heart of Berlin's Alexanderplatz plan to open late on weekdays and Dussmann, the media department store on the central

Unter den Linden boulevard plans to do business all night on Fridays. DW.DE

Saint Nicholas: The Bearded Legend CHRISTMAS IN GERMANY 1 Americans Taking Bigger Bite of German Christmas Fare 2 Saint Nicholas: The Bearded Legend 3 Berliners Celebrate New Shopping Hours 4 Germany's Christmas Markets: All That is Filling and Festive 5 Singing: The Price Merkel Pays for the Chancellery 6 Germany's Hottest Christmas Market 7 A Home for Angels in Germany 8 Berlin Begging for More Santas While Germany's children are looking into the shoes they put out before going to bed and spent the night hoping to find them filled with candy in the morning, kids in other countries might be scared they'll get the whip. Saint Nicholas with staff and mitre The island of Borkum has an unusual way of celebrating the Feast of St. Nicholas. Saint Nicholas, known as Klaasohm in the regional low German dialect, roams the island in the night of Dec. 5 and spanks young women on the behind. And he whacks them hard, using a big curved cow-horn. Borkum boasts six of these such red-nosed "Klaases" who sport huge sheepskins on their backs and have cow-tails. They drink schnapps with the local men and dance on the bar tables till late in the night and they give gifts to the children. This old whaling custom has very little to do with the celebrated fourth-century bishop from Asia Minor, but it is how the islanders celebrate St. Nicholas Day. In what seems to outsiders to be no more than an excuse for drunken debauchery, the night is reputed for

being great fun and the young islanders start their preparations months in advance. A humble and generous bishop becomes a legend Nicholas, a fourthcentury bishop from Asia Minor More traditionally, however, Nicholas is known as a gaunt bishop from the ancient city of Myra, now in Turkey. He apparently became a bishop at the age of 19 and gave away his inheritance to the poor. His humility and generosity gave rise to a wealth of legends. One story tells of Nicholas coaxing grain intended for the emperor from some sailors in the local port to feed the poor during a famine. When the cargo was unloaded in Byzantium, not a single grain was said to be missing. Another time, he bailed out an impoverished father whose daughters could not marry because he had no dowry for them. Three nights running, Nicholas threw gold nuggets into the young women's bedroom and thus the wedding bells were able to toll. Over time, the gold nuggets were transformed into golden apples, whereas the Kaiser's grain became tasty foodstuffs and candy. Nicholas' punishing helper Together they mete out praise and punishment But St. Nicholas didn't run a oneman operation. The good, generous Nicholas was said to be accompanied by an angry side-

kick whose task it is to mete out punishment to mischievous children. In Germany, this devilish being goes as Knecht Ruprecht, in Switzerland his name is Smutzli, in Austria he is known as Krampli and in Holland he is Zwarte Piet, the Black Peter. Just as their names differ, so do their appearances and their use of rods, whips and rattling chains. However, their common role, which arose in the Middle Ages, was customarily to frighten children into good behavior with threats of being whipped, slit open or gobbled up. According to the Dutch, Sinterklaas, wearing his bishop's garb, and Zwarte Piet in his devil's dress, live in Spain most of the year, monitoring the children from afar. But, once a year in November, they set anchor in Holland and their arrival is broadcast on television and the duo travels across the Netherlands, giving out praise and punishment. Well-behaved Dutch children receive their annual gifts on Dec. 6, instead of Dec. 25. Naughty children, however, get the rod -- with Zwarte Piet scooping up the worst of the worst into his sack and taking them all the way back to Spain. Legends all rolled into one Santa Claus as he is known today with his helpers the reindeers In Finland, Nicholas goes by Joulupukki. He is neither holy nor devilish but pretty pagan. He lives in Lapland and distributes gifts on Dec. 6, which are reminiscent of pagan times. A descendent of this 900-year-old man has been trying to prove his existence for years. In his version of the St. Nick story, the sack and the rod are symbols of male fertility. Saint Nicholas, Black Pete and Santa Claus have merged into one happy entity, as have the myths and legends, culminating in a cheery Christmas celebration at the end of the year. The Christian reformers of the Middle Ages had their part in this metamorphosis and people transposed their pagan customs to Christmas. Whatever the tradition today's children believe, the hope that Nicholas has paid them an overnight visit leaving them gifts and candy has become the norm. Whether he put them

in their clean shoes, threw them through the window or sneaked them into their stockings hanging above the fireplace is irrelevant. Santa Claus can also wear a bishop's hat, a long beard or daddy's bathrobe for all they care. The ubiquitous, super-cuddly, white-bearded Santa Claus who has become so well-loved among children across the world is a recent invention. He appeared on the world-stage during a 1930s Coca-Cola advertising campaign. His permanent grin has not been wiped off since. DW.DE

German Christmas Culinary Traditions Endure HAVE YOURSELF A MERRY LITTLE CHRISTMAS 1 Bayern Munich Under the Christmas Tree 2 Germany and Gospel: Christmas Tradition, Year-Round Passion 3 Santa Takes a Festive Bashing 4 Book Biz Gets out its Gladrags 5 A Fine Old Pickle 6 Targeting Santa 7 Plastic Payment Gaining Ground in Germany 8 Train Service Aims to Reduce Yuletide Blood Pressure 9 Pushing for Pre-Christmas Peace in Germany 10 German Christmas Culinary Traditions Endure Crispy goose or suger-covered raisin cake: Good food belongs to German Christmas celebrations as much as the Christmas tree. And many a traditional dish dates back to medieval times or even earlier. Crispy duck is a German Christmas favorite Before they adopted Christianity, Germanic peoples celebrated winter solstice around the same time as Christmas. Meals were cooked from whatever the year's harvest brought in -- grains, conserved fruit, potatoes. Everything was dished out for the holidays in one form or

another. Nowadays, many Germans eat only salad or fish -- a Christian symbol since medieval times -- on Christmas Eve. On the first day of Christmas, Dec. 25, they take to the table for a massive roast lunch. Traditionally, Germans tuck into goose, and it remains popular. Variations on goose Just after the feast of St. Martin on Nov. 10, which Germans also celebrate with a meal of goose, farmers work to quickly fatten up their birds to meet the huge Christmas demand for geese. Even so, Germany still has to import them from Poland and Hungary. Siegrid Hltel, who runs a farms that raises geese near Cologne, doesn't put great stock in fattening up geese. Due to fears of bird flu, geese had to remain in their stalls this year "Geese that have only been kept in their stalls and fattened up are really something different than geese that are allowed to graze in fields all summer long. They're more tender and lean." The tradition of roast goose at Christmas is centuries' old. In 1588, Queen Elizabeth I of England ordered everyone to have roast goose for their Christmas meal because it was the what she had been doing when news of the English victory over the Spanish Armada reached her. Goose then became the traditional Christmas dish in England and spread from there to Germany. But there's more to the Christmas goose tradition than just that. In earlier times, Christians didn't only fast at Easter but also during the 40 days between St. Martin's Day and Christmas. On the first day of Christmas, Germans broke the fast with goose. Goods for the gods

Stollen from Dresden is famous around the world Baking at Christmas also dates back to an earlier time. The Germanic tribes offered the food as gifts to the gods. Even the calorie-conscious would be loath to avoid the baked goods that mark German Christmas, including gingerbread cookies andstollen, a fruitcake with raisins and sometimes marzipan. The latter, the most well-known of German holiday loaves, was created in 1457 by a cook at Hartenstein Castle near Torgau. Covered in powdered sugar, the cake vaguely resembles a baby wrapped in a blanket -- to bring to mind the birth of Jesus Christ. Supposedly it's bad luck to cut the stollen before the holiday. On the other hand, if everyone gathers to eat it after Christmas Eve mass, the entire household will be protected and blessed. But it seems that Germans are no longer concerned by such superstition -- years ago supermarkets started selling stollen as early as late summer. DW.DE

Berlin Begging for More Santas CHRISTMAS IN GERMANY 1 Americans Taking Bigger Bite of German Christmas Fare 2 Saint Nicholas: The Bearded Legend 3 Berliners Celebrate New Shopping Hours 4 Germany's Christmas Markets: All That is Filling and Festive 5 Singing: The Price Merkel Pays for the Chancellery 6 Germany's Hottest Christmas Market 7 A Home for Angels in Germany 8 Berlin Begging for More Santas Germany's unemployment rates are falling, but the German capital is experiencing a

serious shortage of Santa Clauses this year. Is Grinch planning to steal Christmas again? Scenes like this one are something the German capital can only dream of this year It's started again: the annual euphoria which converts parts of the German capital into a Teutonic version of a US shopping mall. Customers are beginning to be lured into a commercial winter paradise in which countless mugs of despair-dampening mulled wine, consumed against the headache-guaranteeing cacophony of jingle bells and white Christmas, can easily drive many a parent to the brink of insanity. At least, it comes only once a year. Berlin's newly built central train station has erected a 20-meter (65-foot) monster tree with more than 28,000 branches and around 40,000 Christmas crystal ornaments, the most expensive tree Berlin has ever seen. But something is rotten in Christmas land. Berlin's Santa Clauses are, apparently, getting lazy. "Heinzelmnnchen" (Santa's Little Helpers) -- a Berlin-based student organization that specializes in finding employment for Santa Clauses and Christmas angels -- said that one month before Christmas, they have only received 100 Father Christmas applications. "I'm worried because we need young talent," said project manager Rene Heydeck. "We need 300 applicants more to cover some 4,500 jobs that we're likely to have this year." But what kind of angels? Germany's new popstar angels Perhaps, Germany is looking for a different kind of magic this winter. The wildly popular German singing contest Popstars, which over the past few years has produced one successful group ("No Angels") and a most diverse series of flops, was running this year under the motto "The Country Needs New Angels." And by angels, the producers certainly didn't have Christmas in mind. And if they did, then it's because they, too, wanted to take advantage of the lucrative Christmas market. Senna, Bahar and Mandy -- the three girls who recently made it to the band called Monrose -- will have their first single released on Dec. 1. As it turns out, the Christmas labor market is no less flourishing in the headquarters of Berlin's Santa Clause Central. "Last year, I had 70 Santa Clauses working for me," said Berlin's senior Father Christmas, Frank Knorre, whose business card proudly declares that he has been a Santa since 1980. "Now I have assembled only one half of them. I'm taking candidates ranging from school kids to pensioners, if they fit." What do Santas really want?

One more mug, and I'll be fine Is it possible that Santa Clauses are getting tired of the whole holiday hullabaloo? Do they really prefer to do what most Germans do -- eat more than they should and realize, at some point, that they have mulled wine coming out of their ears? Or are they hoping for something particularly wild this year -- getting busted by the police for running around wearing nothing but Christmas lights? Or taking Mrs. Clause, for once, to the long-promised, topless Caribbean vacation? Whatever it is, we can only hope that Santa Clauses will come to their senses, suppress their personal desires, forget about their secret fantasies, and remember that they're there for children's sake. Not to mention that they can still make a buck or two. Renting a Santa Clause for a 20minute visit to a family of up to children in Berlin costs between 27 and 29 euros ($35 $38). DW.DE

The German Afghan Connection An Afghan sultan who finds mention in wild carnival songs and a German club serving pork and pepper steak in Kabul? Germany and Afghanistan have more in common than most think. Why Germany? - That was the question on most peoples minds when the Afghan conference on the future of the war-torn country was reported to be held in Germany. Apart from the obvious explanation that Germany is a neutral country like Switzerland or Austria, theres more to the German-Afghan connection than meets the eye. No colonial past For starters, Germany never invaded Afghanistan the country was just too far away and the Germans too busy conquering territory in Europe. Unburdened by a colonial past, its no wonder that the Afghans look upon Germany as a benevolent nation. Not just that, but Germany was a close ally of Afghanistans during and after the world wars, and helped form a united front against England, which wanted to spread its notorious colonial tentacles over Afghanistan.

As far back as the Berlin conference in 1978, iron chancellor Otto von Bismarck helped pour oil over troubled relations between Afghanistan and England. The grateful Afghan leader, Amir Abdul Rahman looked to Bismarck as a role model and went about earnestly trying to unite the disparate ethnic groups. To his pride, he even earned the name, "Bismarck of Afghanistan"! "D Sultan hat Doosch!" - Amanullah creates a flutter But the most charming aspect of German Afghan ties were forged with the arrival of Sultan Amanullah in Berlin in 1920. At that time in the immediate aftermath of the First World War, Germany was still a pariah nation and still in the black. The Pashtun Sultan didnt seem to care. He roared around with German President Paul von Hindenburg in a convertible during a state visit to Berlin in the golden 1920s. The exotic and dashing Sultan caused quite a stir and fired the imagination of the Germans. Inspired by the dark foreigner and his mystical land of the deserts, German song writers furiously scribbled a "Schlager", a popular German hit and a carnival song for him. Till today at every carnival season in Germany carnival revelers sing at the top of their voices, " Die Karawane zieht weiter...D Sultan hat Doosch". Loosely translated it means "the caravan rolls ahead, the Sultan is thirsty". Sultan Amanullah also suitably impressed the BVG (Berlin public transport). They promptly named a subway train that he rode on after him! DW.DE

Looking Beyond the Facade DRESDEN - A CITY RISEN FROM THE ASHES 1 Stone by Stone 2 Dealing With A Rising Disaster 3 Looking Beyond the Facade 4 Questioning The Reasons For Allied Air War 5 Silicon Saxony: Chip Factory Brings High-Tech to Dresden 6 A New Cupola for Dresden's Frauenkirche 7 UNESCO Honors Three German Treasures 8 The Destruction of Dresden's Frauenkirche Irish architect Ruairi O'Brien has designed a museum for the Platte, those East German pre-fabricated apartment blocks which were the hallmark of socialist living. On

Wednesday he receives an award for his work. An Irish architect hopes to bring back life to forgotten ground in Eastern Germany It is no place for a museum. This desolate, dusty spot on the outskirts of Dresden, frequented by the odd fox from a neighbouring cemetery, is a popular training ground for teenage BMX-bikers. For Ruairi OBrien, it is a historical site, one to be remembered. Ruairi OBrien stands among heaps of sand and concrete rubble on what was once a housing factory and speaks of "making history alive again". Any remnants of history, of the factory which churned out panel after panel essential for those pre-fabricated apartment blocks so typical for the former GDR, have long disappeared. What is left is a collection of concrete boulders resting at OBriens feet. Werner Ehrlich and Ruairi O'Brian in Dresden. They are, one could almost say, his pride and joy. OBrien (right) and his friend, Werner Ehrlich (left), spent numerous mornings during the factorys demolition on the building site, and managed to save several examples of concrete panels and steel girders from the excavators fangs. "With these fragments, you can recount history", OBrien says, eager to tell their tale. State symbol World War Two left 18.4 million East Germans in need of an apartment. After the founding of the former German Democratic Republic (GDR), the government launched a housing campaign for the mass production of millions of new flats. The Plattenbau, short Platte, soon became an, albeit unintentional, symbol of the former GDR. Werner Ehrlich was one of the "lucky ones" to move into a new, modern apartment in the Dresden district of Johannstadt, an apartment block built with panels from the local factory. The first panels fabricated at the factory were made out of rubble from what was left of Dresden after the bombing. Ehrlichs four walls may not be as historic, but they still mean more to him than the apartment's breathtaking view over Dresden and full central heating which he had not experienced in his previous home. "The Platte stands for the birth of the city," he says: without the factory, Johannstadt, as it is today, would never have been born. Due to poor sight, Ehrlich had to give up his job as a clerk years ago. Instead, he took on a job for the towns culture council, dedicating himself to Johannstadts culture and

history. Ehrlich wanted to rescue the factory, and turn it into artists studios or a youth centre. He couldnt rescue the building, but together with OBrien, he did manage to save at least parts of the factory. These remnants are due to be be displayed in their open air museum, later this year. Collage of fragments OBrien strides down a small strip of the parched landscape which was once the factory. The city of Dresden handed over the strip to them after some weeks of persuasion, and left it to them "to make something out of it" - at least until it fell into the hands of an investor. "Here", he says, pointing to a tiny guard's hut, where watchmen once waved trucks in or out of the factory, "will be the entrance". The first exhibits, a heap of grey-brown mottled concrete boulders - examples of the first panels made at the factory - are to follow, presented in a large triangle box made of wood. Next come the panels from one of the most typical editions of former East German prefab building, and so on. A few straggly bushes growing among a leftover gravel pit struggling for light will become a place to linger. And the former chimney, now a heap of red brick rubble, will be turned into a path. Just 50 wide and 100 meters long, the museum has only the fraction of the size of a "regular" museum found in most cities today. But this does not mean it that it has less to offer. O'Brien calls his small, but special museums, "micromuseums": He has built, and is working on four of these small worlds, one of which is the Erich Kstner Museum in Dresden. Here, vivitors need to pull the museum, which is like a large cupboard open, and can pull out various drawers which hold the exhibits. In the centre of the museum there is a computer, with which the visitor can inform himself on German author Erich Kstner via audios and videos. With his micromuseums, for which the architect will receive a prize from the Federal Culture Foundation on Wednesday, O'Brien hopes both to include the visitor in the exhibition, but also to link to various aspects of the main theme, as in the case of the Plattenbau Museum. Here, there will be information boards to supplement the exhibits, and visitors will be invited to contemplate what they read in the tiny park, the "Secret Garden". Plattenbau blues His friend Werner Ehrlich has spent many afternoons lingering on the former factory's

grounds."Each part of the museum was made in Johannstadt", Ehrlich explains. With the museums, and the original exhibits, he hopes to bring back a sense of identity, lost with the fall of the wall and the closure of the factory. But he particularly wants to commerorate the many people who worked at the factory. 300 people once worked at the factory in Johannstadt, its closure in 1990 was a blow to the area. For eleven years the factory was left to decay. The roof leaked, brambles grew over concrete, graffiti covered walls. The only visitor was the occasional fox. Not everyone is happy to see parts of the factory erected again. "Away with the dirt" was the motto of a local initiative whose members were fed up with the sight of the factory decaying with time. The initiative fought for years for its destruction. Their prayers were eventually answered despite an eleven year delay. During its solitary existence, a friend of Ehrlich documented the factory on film. When he hung up the photos on the sites fence, as a reminder of what once stood there, people tore the photos down, wanting to forget what once stood on this dusty spot. Ehrlich says the city missed a chance when they demolished the factory. He says it was something to remember Johannstadt for. But with an east German unemployment rate of 18.8 percent, Johannstadts citizens prefer not to be reminded of the times when jobs were abundant - and when the machines purred in the housing factory. Ehrlich takes it all with humour. "Imagine when the wall came down, they didnt even tell them to stop!". But behind the laughter, Ehrlich very well knows and takes to heart the concern of those waiting in avail for Chancellor Helmut Kohls back then promised "blooming lands". Turning their backs O'Brien has often walked the dusty grounds with Ehrlich, discussing his concept for the open air museum. The born Irishman, whose first job on arrival to the city was to turn a multi-storey apartment block into an operating theatre, has a penchant for Plattenbauten. He says his fascination lies in the many subjects closely linked to the Platte: industrial housing production, life in modules and, in the case of the Plattenbau museum, dealing with derelict land and the recycling of history. But, he adds, it is also a question of the future of the Plattenbau. The population in eastern Germany is turning its backs on those high-rise apartment blocks which were once the hallmark of their former country. One million apartments now stand vacant in what was once a socialist society. After the fall of the Wall, more

than a million easterners migrated to the West in search of jobs, and economically successful eastern Germans headed for the countryside outside the city. In an effort to prevent more vacancies, housing companies have attempted to renovate and modernise prefabricated apartments all over the country. But thousands of apartments have been left to rot, to vandalism, and eventually to demolition. The museum does not belittle the situation of the Plattenbau. Nor does it follow Berlin's recent Plattenbau trend, when the capitals creative youngsters declared prefab housing trendy and lifestylish. It is a reminder of the history and identity of life in the former GDR. Ehrlich points a finger to a collection of bits of facade, in various colours, lying to one side of the former factory grounds. "Difficult to believe, but our Platte was so colourful", he says with a laugh. There is a sense of optimism, and pride in his voice.