The smell of make-up, schnaps and sulfur is filling the streets. Besides laughter, I hear the masses growl old songs. Sounds you hear only on a special period of time in Aachen.

CARNIVAL, the fifth season begins.

K:„Nice costume!“ T: „Thanks!“ K: „You should have seen me last year.“With all the jesters, I am too making some trouble and find joy in boozy pleasure.

Sip for sip, I adjust to the Carnevalists.

„OCHE ALAAF!“ I become one of them.

„What was your costume last year?“

K: „I dunno, I was too drunk.“ „Taste this! That stuff is from my parents.“

„Cheers to our parents!“

I am getting warm. I am already sealing friendships with domestic drinks. 

T: „Where would we be without our parents, dude?“ K: „Yeah, man! My parents are the best! Without them we would not have this schnaps.“

„I have to thank my parents, for living in Germany.“

"What are you talking about?“

"We seeked shelter from the Bosnian war.“

„I don’t drink with foreigners.“

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