Excerpt
Case Study 1 - Vienna comes to Southampton
This is the one that started it all. If it had not been for Gerda Cohen's enthusiasm about a Christmas party for her Year 9 second-language German class, the whole idea would not have been born. The children wanted an end of term celebration.
"Mmm," said Gerda. "We ought to have German or Austrian cakes and goodies."
"And Apfelsaft," said one of the children - they had touched on food and drink in Deutsch Heute 1.
"Well, I'll certainly need to have some "Kaffee" - perhaps a nice "Mélange", said Gerda, and soon the pupils were wide-eyed as they listened to stories of the Viennese coffee houses, the many types of coffee and the hours one could spend there, after "renting" a table - Viennese coffee houses are not cheap - chatting to people with similar interests.
That was the "Kaffee". Now came the "Kuchen"
"We'll have to have "Apfelstrudel"", said Gerda, "and "Kipferln"."
"You must have some "Stollen"," said another colleague, a teacher of English, who happened to be German. And she donated the one that had been sent to her from Germany. A large improvement on Tesco's own, which wasn't available then, anyway.
Word spread. One or two of the pupils had German relations. One volunteered a Sachertorte, another a Christmas tree, decorated in German fashion.
"Do you have a tape of German Christmas carols?" asked Gerda. I did indeed.
"The tape's good," said Gerda. "But some live music would be even better. I think I'll just go and have a word …."
The school orchestra were persuaded to play some Viennese waltzes. And Gerda had several other words, with several other people. The Head of Resources produced an OHT of the Riesenrad from the Prater. We projected this on to the far wall of our lecture room . The Head of Food Technology organised lunch time sessions demonstrating how to make Kipferln and Apfelstrudel, and oversaw the carting arrangements on the day. A German Mum came in and showed her version of Strudel making. Gerda too had a version - a cheating one, using ready made pastry, but it was delicious.
The young music teacher complained.
"All this sugar is bad for you," he said.
"Alright, you can have cabbage Strudel," said Gerda. And she made him one which he adored. Just as well. We wanted the orchestra to do their best.
I am convinced this is how they fed the five thousand. The effort of a few in donating food inspired others to do the same. Soon, we were overwhelmed with offers of cakes.
The children were a little overwhelmed too. Their party was being taken over. They were in danger of being swept aside. But Gerda's enthusiasm fired them, too.
"We could dress up as waiters," said one boy.
"We ought to charge people to have the cakes, and then we could raise money for charity," said one of the girls.
And so we did. Every child in that Year 9 group was involved one way or another. Some volunteered to wash up and help clear up afterwards. Some brought cakes from home. Some made the drinks. And some waited on the tables and served the cakes. Two set themselves up as cashiers at the exit to the hall. No adult was allowed to leave without giving a substantial donation to our cancer research charity.
Gerda taught Art most of the time. Therefore, she had a sense of the aesthetic. She insisted on the tables being beautifully decorated - and they were. Partly because she had made much of the little amounts of greenery growing around winter playgrounds, and partly because yet another parent and a another colleague, a keen gardener, had helped.
And my role? I barely remember. Gerda's enthusiasm carried most of the event. I think I may have helped somewhere along the line with the logistics - how many tables to set out, and when to do it. Who was going to clear up? And I just made myself as useful as possible on the day.
The day was brilliant. The Lecture Hall is a pleasant room at the best of times. It is housed in the red brick part of the school, and looks out on to trees and grass. The walls are a pale. Wedgwood blue. The large Christmas tree sparkled. The pink sky of the late December afternoon showed through the windows. Tables covered in cakes stretched along one of the long sides of the hall. We were spoilt for choice. The Sachertorte - the well-known Viennese chocolate cake, the numerous Strudel and the little bowls of Kipferln, the small crescent -shaped Viennese biscuits gave us a strong suggestion of something Germanic. As we came into the "coffee house", we smelt the coffee and stared at the Riesenrad. The Christmas carols played gently in the background. Then the school orchestra struck up. We were in Vienna! The waltzes convinced us. When the music died down again, and we returned to the quiet religious tunes, our colleagues chatted. All of them. And the many parents who had turned up! The waiters, waitresses and cake-servers worked hard - and even spoke a little German.
One hour and a half later, people gradually started leaving.
"We'd better encourage them to take some of this with them," I said. Although we had had many customers, each of whom had eaten plenty, the display of cakes barely looked touched. Our visitors were only too pleased to take some home with them, and left a generous donation to our charity as well. The rest was gradually eaten up by the staff over the next few days, but always after a donation.
It was certainly a very pleasant occasion. Everything was done to a very high standard. The atmosphere of Vienna had been recreated and our pupils had had an insight into a very important part of the culture of German- speaking countries. But I had one burning question. Could they have used their German even more? Which set me thinking about the next one.