KÜHBACH, Germany (AP) — As the brass band played Bavarian tunes and the villagers drank their beer, watched and cheered, the young men of Kühbach in southern Germany pushed up their new maypole with long wooden rods until it stood perfectly straight against the sky.
In addition to the locals, people from all over Bavaria and beyond flocked to the small village of about 4,500 residents on Friday to watch the Maypole being erected — a custom that has
been observed for centuries and is deeply rooted in Bavarian folklore.
“The Maypole is a symbol of togetherness,” said Mayor Karl-Heinz Kerscher, pointing at the youngsters pushing up the pole. "All these young guys, when they give it their all, when they show their strength, that’s just proof that we’re powerful, that Bavaria means something, and that here in Kühbach it’s twice as beautiful.”
May 1 is a public holiday observed all over Germany, but putting up maypoles in the center of the village is a beloved tradition celebrated primarily in Bavaria, Austria, and other parts of southern Germany as a symbol of not only community but also the beginning of spring and fertility.
In Kühbach, a lot of care and time is devoted to this custom every three years, when a new pole is raised.
Last winter, the Kühbacher Burschen, a village club with 240 members, chose a stately spruce in a nearby forest, cut it down, cut off all branches and the bark, let it dry, and painted it three times over in white and blue — the state colors of Bavaria.
On the sides of the tree, they attached metal signs with the guild emblems of the village, and — most important — they then guarded their precious maypole, which had been put up for storage in a former sawmill for weeks around the clock so that nobody would steal it.
Stealing each other's new maypoles is another beloved tradition in Bavaria. And if the theft is successful, the village that was robbed needs to buy back its maypole, and that gets very expensive: up to 200 liters (422 pints) of beer and a whole barbecued pig with potato dumplings and brown gravy — something that can easily fetch up to 3,000 euros ($3,325).
By Friday, however, no maypole had been stolen from Kühbach, and early in the morning the mostly young men and women, all dressed in their best lederhosen and light-blue dirndl dresses, came to the sawmill to triumphantly take it to the center of their village.
“Our motto is, ‘preserve traditions, shape the future’ — that really sums it up pretty well,” said Florian Oberhauser, 26, the head of the Kühbacher Burschen, or Kühbach Boys.
The 28-meter (92-foot) tall maypole was lifted horizontally on wooden carts and pulled into the village by two sturdy horses from the local beer brewery.
Once the procession — with children sitting on top of the pole in a long row — arrived at the market square, the Catholic priest, who had just finished his Mayday Mass, blessed the tree and the young men with holy water. Everyone drew closer together to pray and the actual work began.
Equipped with long wooden poles, the youngsters paired up on both sides of the pole and cheered each other with shouts of “Hau-Ruck,” as they slowly put up the Maybaum, as it is called in German.
When the maypole stood straight against the blue sky, the marching band played an extra fanfare, people poured into the huge festival tent, sat down on the benches, had pork roast and sausages for lunch — and some more beer.
Simone Nodlbichler, 41, who played the clarinet all morning as her band accompanied the Maypole procession through the village, past the church and to the market square of Kühbach, beamed as she put away her instrument.
“This tradition is being passed down from generation to generation," she said as her two teenage daughters looked on. “As you can see, both young and old are involved.”
“I think there’s a wonderful sense of community here, and it’s still very much alive," she added.
