Austria!: A Reason the German Word for Nightmare Translates to Alp Dream

So, this post is only about two weeks behind—hooray.

One fascinating and somewhat terrifying tradition I experienced here was Krampus.

On December 6^th in Austria and elsewhere in Europe, Saint Nicholas visited the houses of all the good boys and girls and brought them small gifts—usually chocolate. The day (or now days) before that, something else happens—the bad children were punished by creatures known as Krampus.

These creatures really are the stuff of nightmares:

(source: theatlantic.com)

This creature in some form of another, has been a part of Alpine folklore for over one thousand years, and has accompanied Saint Nicholas since the seventeenth century. Within Austria, this tradition was taken much more seriously in the more mountainous regions, especially Tirol, Salzburg, and to an extent Carinthia—my region, not as much around Vienna (we'll see what tourism and some sort of performance of an imagined authenticity does to this—if anything).

One way that people engaged this tradition of Krampus was to make or wear completely handmade Krampus costumes.

The masks were often handcarved from pine wood and could cost several hundred Euros alone.

(source: the atlantic.com)

The hairy/furry bodies were often made from over a dozen goat or sheep skins, take days to produce and also cost a few hundred Euros.

Many of them also had really large bells attached to the back of the costumes that would ring loudly every time the Krampus walked, a forboding warning of a monstrous creature nearing ever closer.

My observations/experiences:

I first came across Krampus during my first visit to Austria in August 2008 at our language camp. The instructors told us about this tradition, and pretended that in Gmunden, people even dress like them in August to scare away tourists (not really true). Joke was on us when they had their friends dress up and run after all the exchange students in the language camp's basement—unforgettable

Then, later in December I went to my first Krampulauf.

(Altmuenster Krampuslauf, December 2008)

In this Krampuslauf, it was basically a parade where dozens and dozens of people dressed as Krampusse walked past. If you were near the front, they reach at you to mess up your hair, hit you with sticks, throw flour on you, or other actions.

According to some people I talked to both this time and in '08, these parades were really safe and tame—almost too much so. The Krampus were not allowed to do such things to really really small children, and there was plenty of police presence to make sure the Krampus (many of whom had several drinks before beginning the parade) didn't do anything too crazy. Each Krampus also has a number on their costume, so if they did anything really inappropriate you have a way of finding out who it was.

This year, I also went to two Krampuslaeufe—one on a Friday night in Villach, the other on Saturday in Klagenfurt. It was pretty fun. In Villach one took my hat and made me chase it, and another hit my leg hard enough for me to feel it a good while later. Some of the TAs and I pretended to flirt with them, which was also fun and silly.

I knew about the Krampus tradition in other pars of Austria. I heard stories from very rural areas (including where my host grandmother lives) where Krampus stormed the schools and scared kids so bad they passed out. Places where wearing 3 pairs of pants (including ski pants) was sound advice. But do I feel like I missed out? Not really.

In Vilach and Klagenfurt, I was not really a tourist. Attending a Krampuslauf was a social event—not a tourist attraction. I was participating in my community's event, no matter the scale. Perhaps I didn't yet know any people behind the masks, but could tell my students in the crowd did. This was my way of celebrating Krampus, grounded in a specific time and place--not some abstracted, timeless Krampus "tradition". And it was wonderful.

Now.... for all the pics! (Klagenfurt ones taken by Karen)