There is nothing more entertaining than an American at Oktoberfest. Having gone to Munich, Germany, this past weekend for the 200th anniversary of the world’s largest gathering of beer consumption enthusiasts, I was provided with an up close and personal view of the American out of his or her typical environment.

The stark contrasts between American festivals (think MayFest) and Oktoberfest (think MayFest times 10 billion and with carnival rides) will leave an American bewildered, yet focused on keeping pace and saving face to avoid being spotted as an outsider by European counterparts.

The stigma of the European drinker has manifested itself in American college students in a resounding and resilient need to outdrink, landing those students in a handful of precocious predicaments.

On my first day of Oktoberfest, I arrived at the beer tents at around 7 a.m. to get in line. There, I met a seemingly logical American college student who was eager to start his morning with the traditional one-liter glass (sorry, no glass boot) of well-brewed beer.

Several hours later, I saw this individual continuing his brewsky binge (seemingly without a siesta) on the outside porch of the same tent. And by tent, I really mean warehouse. After downing the dregs, my new friend proceeded to toss his cookies (and by cookies, I mean an array of beer sausage and pretzels) on the deck. Like a man crawling to the trenches, he tried to leave the deck, only to be assaulted by a tiny-yet-ferocious German waitress.

She punched and kicked this overly intoxicated individual until he ceased his swaying attempts to escape. When he’d given up, she handed him a bucket and a rag, making it clear he was expected to clear the combo of beer and bile he had failed to efficiently stomach.

Now let’s examine his German counterpart. In the same beer tent, I met a 22-year-old man from Berlin who went by ‘DJ Chilout.’ He started at the same time as the American college student and consumed nine liters between 8 a.m. and 2 p.m. All the while, he was chanting German drinking songs while standing on his table, orchestrating the playing of a handful of German drinking games and keeping his dirndl-laden girlfriend entertained. Needless to say, the American was worse for the ware.

Precocious predicament No. 2: drunk driving. No, not real drunk driving. I’m talking about the kind with bumper cars. After leaving the beer tents around 3 p.m., I progressed to the ride attractions, where going on the bumper cars seemed like a winning idea. No dice.

After I learned the art of elbowing everyone around me to get to a car, thanks to the absence of orderly lines, I grabbed a bumper car and buckled up. A German father and son hopped in the car on my left, and a couple of American guys wearing lederhosen claimed the car to my right.

The cars got power, and the slick metal floor became a coliseum of aggressive drunk driving. The boy from the previously mentioned father/son duo was driving their car, and the passenger of the two American boys was standing in his bumper car, slurring something about the autobahn.

German boy saw an open target and made a beeline for the American car, colliding at the full speed of 10 mph. Inebriated American down! The German kid laughed. The American boy scrambled. The bumper cars went on, and the injured American stayed seated.

I have attributed these displays as similar to the ‘big fish, small pond’ mentality, except along the lines of a ‘big drinker, small festival’ mentality. The average American, adjusted to MayFest on a small scale and Mardi Gras on a big one, is ill-adjusted for beer meccas like Oktoberfest.

Stuck in a society that watches movies like ‘Beerfest,’ yet condemns similar behavior, Americans are susceptible to the partier’s paradox: The same behavior that renders respect will simultaneously come married to shame.

For instance, inebriated American No. 1 imbibed enough alcohol to be comparable to his German counterpart, but did so in such an irresponsible manner that he got physically assaulted by a small German woman. No respect in that.

Take-home message: When in Munich, do not do as the Munichans do – unless you have an unusually spectacular tolerance.

Jessica Smith is a junior information studies and technology and television, radio and film major. Her column appears weekly, and she can be reached at Jlsmit22@syr.edu.

 

Published on October 4, 2010 at 12:00 pm