Walking With Lanterns (005)

Hey, how are you liking this fog?

November in Germany hits differently, doesn’t it? The light fades early, the air smells faintly of woodsmoke, and suddenly it feels like the whole country is retreating indoors.

When I first moved here, I found this time of year heavy—the cold, the dark, the endless layers of winter prep. But then, one November evening, I stood in the street surrounded by children carrying homemade paper lanterns—bright little orbs bobbing through the darkness—and something inside me shifted.

That was my first Laternenlauf—a St. Martin’s Day lantern walk.

At first, I thought it was just a cute kids’ event. But walking through the neighborhood, singing songs I barely understood, something deeper clicked. Everyone—kids, parents, grandparents—was contributing a small piece of light. And I realized: this is how Germans get through the dark months. They don’t resist the season—they illuminate it.

That night taught me something important about belonging here (and maybe about life in general):
You don’t have to be fluent, or perfect, or fully integrated to belong.
You just have to show up—with your own little light.

So this November, whether you’re lighting candles at home, joining a lantern walk, or just finding small rituals that make the darkness feel warmer—remember: belonging often starts with participation, not perfection.

If you’d like to hear the full story (and the deeper meaning behind this tradition), I talk about it in this week’s Life, Just in German episode: “Walking with Lanterns.”
🎧 [Listen here → link to podcast page]

Lantern Story

When my kids were little, November meant the Laternenumzug—the lantern walk for St. Martin’s Day. I didn’t grow up with anything like it. Where I’m from, November mostly meant leftover Halloween candy and the slow slide toward Thanksgiving.

But here, it meant sitting at a tiny kindergarten table surrounded by tissue paper, glue sticks, and slightly impatient German parents who all knew what to do already.
The kids chattered, cutting out stars and moons for their paper lanterns. Teachers rehearsed songs on repeat:
Ich geh’ mit meiner Laterne…

And me? I hummed along, half proud, half lost.

When parade day came, we bundled up—tiny boots, puffy jackets, little hands gripping wooden sticks with flickering lights. The air smelled like damp leaves and bratwurst. The procession wound through the dark streets, hundreds of glowing lanterns bobbing like fireflies.

My children sang loudly and I tried to keep up. I joined in softly, still learning the words.
And somewhere in that mix of candlelight and chorus, something shifted.

This tradition wasn’t mine by birth, but it sorta became mine through becoming part of it.
Through doing what the locals do—even before I fully understood why.

Now, years later, whenever I see groups of children walking with lanterns on a chilly November evening, I think of those early years. And, as corny as it sounds, I smile.
Because I know what it means—not just the story of St. Martin and his shared cloak (which you can hear more about in my podcast, if you're into it), but the quiet generosity of a culture that keeps its light alive even in the darkest month.

Do Lanterns Bring Belonging?

Belonging in Germany can begin this way—by borrowing traditions and letting them slowly become your own.
You don’t need to have your own childhood memories of Laternenlaufen to take part.
You just need to show up, sing the songs, hold a lantern, and let yourself be changed by the light.

That’s another small way you can make cultural fluency grow—not by knowing every word to every song, or knowing every rule, but by stepping into the rhythm of the place you find yourself now calling home.

☕️ The Café Table

🎧 Podcast Highlight – “Cultural Belonging in Real Time”
This week’s podcast dives into how joining small local traditions—like St. Martin’s Day or Advent markets—builds real integration faster than any language app ever could.

📍 Cultural / Seasonal Tip – St. Martin’s Day (Nov 11)
If you see children walking with lanterns this week, they’re celebrating Sankt Martin, a Roman soldier who shared his cloak with a beggar. The act of generosity (Mantelteilung) is the heart of it all.

📸 Instagram Spotlight – Behind the Lanterns
I’ll share a photo from my first Laternenumzug—glue-stained fingers, proud faces, and a very crooked paper moon. Come comment with your own first German holiday experience!

🍴 What’s Cooking – Weckmänner & Martinsgänse
Two traditional St. Martin’s treats: sweet Weckmänner (yeast pastry men with raisins) and roast goose. Most bakeries already have Weckmänner on display—buy one for a taste of the season.

📚 Book Share – “The Year of Living Danishly” by Helen Russell
Not German, but a funny, heartwarming read about finding belonging through foreign rituals. A perfect mirror for expat life in Europe.

🧳 Day Trip – Mainz Old Town
Beautiful at night in early November, when lantern walks and church concerts fill the narrow streets. Stop by Marktfrühstück for coffee and Weckmann.

🌍 Around Wiesbaden / Rhein-Main
Check out your local Laternenumzug listings—many kindergartens and churches welcome visitors. Bring a lantern, even if you don’t have kids!

🛠️ Tools & Tricks – “Eventbrite.de”
Search “St. Martinsumzug” or “Lichterfest” in your city—you’ll find plenty of community parades and markets this week.

💬 Playtime – Phrase of the Week
“Ich geh’ mit meiner Laterne” — the opening line of the St. Martin song you’ll hear everywhere. Bonus vocab: der Umzug (parade), die Laterne (lantern), das Licht (light).

🧭 From Next Level German
We’re adding a “Real-Life German: Holiday Edition” mini-guide soon—phrases, traditions, and cultural cues for November–December.

✅ Your 3 Wins for the Week

1. Step outside after dark—notice how your town glows differently in November.
2. Learn one St. Martin song line (and hum it without shame).
3. Do one small act of generosity—share your “cloak,” whatever form it takes.

Keep Walking With Light

November in Germany isn’t loud or flashy. It’s gentle, flickering, and quietly communal.

If you see the lanterns this week, remember this:
You don’t have to be born into a tradition to take part in it.
Sometimes, it's enough to hold the light for someone else.

💛
Christine