Oktoberfest

Words by Volker Wolf - Edited by MiniMe

Oktoberfest is one of those experiences you only need once, but it stays with you. It's not just the beer - though the weight of that one-liter glass in your hand feels like a rite of passage, and the 22 euros you paid for it quickly fades into the background once the music starts. The band plays from a stage that towers over the crowd, and suddenly you find yourself singing along, your voice blending with strangers who, for a few hours, feel like old friends.

There's something raw and human about it all. Sharing tables, clinking glasses, tearing into Bavarian food as if it's the most natural thing in the world. You step outside the tent and the night surprises you - rides twisting into the sky, lights spinning everywhere, laughter echoing. Evening arrives before you know it, and above the carnival chaos, the stars remind you that this too is fleeting.

Of course, it's messy. People stumbling, laughter spilling over into the streets, the mad rush towards trams, buses, or taxis that cost too much. But that's part of it too - the reminder that life isn't always neat, and maybe it isn't meant to be.

When you finally make it home, there's a strange satisfaction. You're tired, maybe dizzy, but glad. Glad you showed up, glad you let yourself be carried by the music, the crowd, the moment. You close your eyes knowing: this was enough. Once is enough.

(Contributed by Dr. Volker Wolf, former Director of Goethe-Institut Malaysia)