Well. I really blew it. I would like to make a public apology of my disappearance from the face of the earth. But instead of writing out a long, lengthy epistle full of tears and sorrow, I’ll get on the ball to bring you all up to date, starting with My two weeks of madness (which I’d been writing about a little here and there in a word document).
“2 weeks of madness: Luxembourg, Paris, Barcelona
I am starting this post before I go to Barcelona (yay, Msoft word), so that when I return I won’t have to type EVERYTHING up, just mostly everything.
On the 31st, as planned, we got on a bus at 6:30am and headed to Luxembourg. It is a really beautiful city! It really is a “burg,” an old fortress that just has city built throughout/on top of it. There are ancient towers and stone walls sticking out in random places, as well as wonderful precipitous battlements overlooking valleys and whatnot. There is also a series of tunnels that run through the city, but it cost money to see them, which my compatriots vetoed. We spent the day just walking around the city, and then exploring an amazing valley that runs through the city. This valley is a long park, and you can barely tell you are even in the city sometimes. We also visited an old stone church that is the oldest in Luxembourg, no longer in use of course. All in all, a wonderful time, and definitely turned me into a Luxembourg fan.
One of my favorite parts of Luxembourg though is the linguistic atmosphere. Luxembourg (the country) has three official languages: Luxembourgish, French, and German. Each language plays a slightly different role. French is the “service language,” and so almost all road signs or government related material is in French. German is the “media language,” appropriate considering the role of German in the invention of the printing press. Over 60% of the books published in the country are written in German. Luxembourgish is the “heart language,” the language people speak at home or together with friends and family. It’s the heritage of Luxembourg, a tiny country that borders both Germany and France, under one control or the other back and forth through the centuries. Luxembourgish is a real testimony to the history of the country, as it is really a sort of French/German Creole, just different enough from both to be hard to understand. Above all, I loved that there was almost no English in the entire city, other than a shop with the name “House of underwear.” For the first time being in Europe, I felt like I had a special mother tongue—not just some worldwide code—as my first language. And I got around using my German and what little French I had. Totally sweet.
Then I came back to Marburg for 72 hours of Church, classes, and a little bit of sleep. On Wednesday, I got up at the crack of dawn and headed to the Train station. At 10:30 in the AM, my plane landed in Charles de Gaules airport outside of Paris. After casting about desperately, I finally found an official desk-looking-thing and went up to it with a trembling “parlez-vouz anglais?” on my lips. Safely on the bus (I later found out, the more expensive one, alas), I settled down to snooze. About 45 minutes later, I saw my first vue de Paris. My bus stop was Gare de Lyon, which according to the merciful officer at the airport, was right near la Bastille, which was right near my hostel.
Well, it turns out, it was really only pretty close to la Bastille, which was only pretty close to my hostel. In any case, I was glad I’d opted to pack light enough to carry all of my belongings on my back. With the help of a magical map that Alex had given me before I left, I found my way to my hostel in about 30 minutes.
30 minutes of wandering through Paris, and it’s already captured me. The streets, the buildings, the little shops… The air was even cleaner, probably just due to the fact that no people group in the world except for maybe Russians smokes as much as the Germans :P I got to the hostel a half hour before I was supposed to check in, so I walked around for a little while, and contacted Rachel, Amy, and Amanda, to let them know I was there. We spent the rest of the day basically bashing around, visiting a graveyard with famous people buried in it, eating baguettes, and visiting the modern art museum of Pompedou.
Thursday was a whirl of the Eiffel Tower, Museum d’Orsay, eating in a café, getting lost in Paris at night, finding our way (via the Eiffel Tower) and then having a half-hour conversation with an Italian guy—Amanda speaking Spanish, him speaking Italian. pretty wild.
Friday we hit up Notre Dame, le Louvre, and that night went out to eat at a sweet little restaurant, complete with French wine and French onion soup!
Saturday was my last day, and we got up really early to get out to the palace at Versaille when it opened. It was a beautiful place, but HUGE, and by the time we’d walked around the grounds a bit, I had to rush to catch my train. So after running through the palace (I wanted to see that “on my way out”) I caught my train back to Paris, caught my bus to the airport, and flew back to Frankfurt.
all in all an amazing trip. Paris is really a city I would like to get to know more. Maybe I’ll be able to make a return visit someday…”
That’s what I wrote before I fell off the face of the earth.
Since then, I also went to Barcelona, which was also incredible, though not as organized as Paris. But that was nice; it was sort of a vacation, rather than a "tourist trip." We spent the first day on the beach, sleeping after an exhausting 12 hour trip from Marburg. The second day we actually got out and saw some of the city, and it was maravilliosa.
the verdict: I could definitely live in Barcelona.
That brings me to now, exactly 12 days until I leave Germany. In way of an explanation, a big reason I've not been keeping this blog updated is that the pace of life quadrupled between my last post and this one. After two weeks of Euro-tripping it, I came back to a University that was not the passive, lazy institution I'd become accustomed to. Suddenly papers and projects and was weiß ich* were due, and Exams were right around the corner. Also, suddenly my time in Germany was almost over, which meant it was time to do all of the things I'd been meaning to do. A word on the University facet though...
The European (specifically the German) University System is much different than the general form of Higher Learning in the US. First of all, homework is almost non-existent, and graded homework is unheard of, except by Professors who model their classes after a United States style. What does this lack of graded feedback mean for students? Two very important things. 1) You must be self motivated to stay caught up and learn things, because the Prof's job is not to make sure you are learning. Professors are information springs; it's up to the student to drink. 2) Get ready for fun at the end of the semester! If you though finals at US Universities and Colleges were stressful, you h'ain't seen nothin' yet. Imagine for a moment that your final exam/paper/project/whatever it may be is not only the final, and cumulative, but also the only thing that decides your grade for that class. Better pray you don't have a bad test day, because --even if you took amazing notes and learned more than you could have ever imagined in the class--if you blow the test, you blow the course. Have fun!
Anyway, so I've been studying like crazy to make it through these last two weeks of ridiculousness at the Uni Marburg.
Not everything was storm-clouds and plagues though, during that time I did do some fun things. Here at the castle, there were two pretty big parties: the "Schloß party 4 friends" and the Sommerfest, both of which were an absolute blast. For the Sommerfest, I learned a Hungarian folk-dace, and a bunch of my Schloßmates and I helped Zita, our Hungarian Mitbewohnerin** show off a very fun piece of her culture.
The other big event involving the castle was the "Sport-Dies," or "Sport day." It should be noted that "Dies" does mean "day," but not in German. It's Latin. I have no idea why they used it, except because they probably though it would be cool and classy. Which it is. On Sport-Dies, Fei, Patrick, some other Schloßites, and I marched down to the Fußball fields in full uniform. There we proceeded to play 4 hours of very intense Fußball against other thrown-together teams of Fußball-fähig*** Marburgers. It was really fun, even though we only won one out of 4 games, and I didn't even break my leg, though I was sore the next day.
While I'm on the subject of Fußball, I have to say that one of the coolest experiences I had was watching the semi-finals of Germany vs. Turkey, to decide who would go on to the final, and potentially, become the Europe champion. For those of you who don't follow European soccer (or soccer at all), Germany won. It was incredible. First, the whole room erupted into deafening cheers, then, when those died down, you could hear the entire city of Marburg going crazy. Cheering, singing, honking, it was pretty incredible, and very exciting.
Lastish, but not leastish, was our BCA group trip to Hamburg. It was a very good trip and a very bad trip. It was a good trip, because Hamburg is a wonderful, sea-going palce, and is full of amazing waterways that go through the entire city, and on which you can take many fun boat-tours. It was a bad trip, because it was too short, and because it was full of mishaps such as missing our train right off the bat, and arriving in Hamburg 3 hours late as a result, and then the next day, missing our ship, so that we weren't able to do one of the things we'd planned. Still, despite the setbacks, it was a great time, even though the whole city smells strongly of fish. My favorite part of Hamburg (other than riding in boats) was going to Balin Stadt (which you had to take a boat to!). Balin Stadt is like an Ellis Island of Germany, only instead of dealing so much with incoming immigrants, it had a lot of outgoing traffic. It was really cool to learn about the people who were leaving everything behind to try and get a fresh start, and especially neat to realized that my German was good enough to understand everything that was going on, and even to listen to some little recorded interviews of immigrants from years and years ago.
That brings us pretty much up to date. Now I am on the home stretch to leaving what has become my home behind. I'm sad, and excited, fearful, and a little relieved. Pretty confusing. I tried "practice packing" today, and I think I'm going to have to leave some of my clothes behind that I brought with me. That's no biggie, but it reminds me that I will be coming back home with a piece of Germany embedded in me, and I'll be leaving a piece of me here.
*was weiß ich = lit. "what do I know," used like "who-knows-what"
**Mitbewohnerin = housemate (fem.)
***fähig = able, capable
25.5.08
Entschuldigen Sie Bitte! Please excuse me!
Now that it has been just shy of an eternity since I last posted, I am updating this pathetic blog! Honsetly, I did try to write something around 2 weeks ago, about my birthday and whatnot, which I wrote in a Word document, and then saved, and never finished/posted. So here is that post first:
Wednesday, May 14th
Well, it has been 1 week and three days since I hurt my leg, and though it’s gotten better, it’s still pretty ouchy, and I still can’t feel my toes. I think I’m going to go back to the doctor tomorrow, and hopefully get some more advice. The good news is that if I can just figure out the bus plan, I won’t have to pay anything, because you only have to pay a co-pay once every quarter in Germany, which I already paid for my first visit.
Even though I’ve been pretty confined to the very near vicinity, my life hasn’t been all just sitting in my room—thank God!
On the Tuesday directly following my verletzte leg episode, I had my 21st birthday. It was just about as anti-climactic as possible, turning 21 in a country where everyone 16 and up drinks beer by the bucketful. Therefore, to bring the irony to its crescendo, I decided to have a 21st birthday party completely devoid of all alcohol.
So on Tuesday afternoon, Alex Becker, mocktail mixer extraordinaire, went to the local grocery store and cleaned them out of juice, soft drinks, and the like. That night, we had a huge shindig in my kitchen, followed by billiards, kicker (Fussball), and cards. All in all, a wonderful time, despite my hobbling.
The best part about Tuesday though was getting to open The Package. This was the package that had come a couple of days early, and that with great strain on my self-control, I had managed to avoid opening. In the package were a plethora of letters, a picture drawn by Mercy, and an amazing book. It took me about 40 minutes to open everything and read the book, and was just completely wonderful.
…………
That was the last I wrote, and now it is a week and a half later, and I am finally posting it. Terrible. In self-defense though, life has just become totally crazy lately, and so I haven’t had much time to write anything. Still, I apologize for the barren wasteland that my blog has become.
Since then, a lot has happened. Perhaps the biggest change since then is that I now have a new roommate. The David moved out into his own room, and last Friday, Yousif moved in. I must admit that at first I was sort of upset that David was moving out, because I assumed it was because he didn’t like living with me. I now know that is false. It’s actually been an interesting culture-comparison, how German students really don’t like living with someone else. Back at my College, the only people who don’t have roommates are RAs, don’t have any friends to room with, or are antisocial. Ok, so that’s an exaggeration, but the general thought process is that living with people is fun, and many people end up becoming great friends with their roommate(s). Here though, the most basic expectation for a room is that it is a single room. Double rooms are very rare, and usually only for married couples.
So now I have a roommate from Yemen (for those of you who didn’t take Doctor Thomas’ ethnic music class and had to memorize a map of the world, Yemen is a country in the Middle East, right under Saudia Arabia, and right next to Oman). The first day, he asked me which direction was West, which I was only able to tell him because I remember taking a picture of the sunset from my bedroom window a few months ago, and I remembered which building got in my way. He is Muslim, and five times a day, he roles out his little prayer rug towards the West, while I sit on my bed and pray for him. It’s a pretty interesting situation, but a really cool one too, and really awesome, considering I am leaving Germany in July to go to London to learn about missions to Muslims. I get a pretty phenomenal boot camp, I guess.
In other news, my classes are picking up, and I’m starting to panic looking at the month of June, because my workload is now enough that I actually have homework that takes more than 30 minutes to do, and I have a 5 page paper coming up. the problem is that I am going to be in Marburg a total of 6.5 days between June 1 to June 14. I will be traveling all over the EU, to Luxemburg, Paris, and Barcelona. It will be a blast, but also really intense, and my paper is due on the 17th. That pretty much gives me this week to get it mostly done. Eek.
That’s pretty much the summary, except for the Party. Friday night we had a party here in the Schloß. Each person who lives here was allowed to invite 5 people. I invited Alex and Ali, and then David, a (different from my old roommate) German student from my Fencing course who Alex and I have become pretty good friends with. He is pretty awesome, and the only German I know who doesn’t drink, because he doesn’t like the taste of beer. So it’s nice to hang out with him. Elias, one of the Italians from my Sprachkurs also came, which was nice, since I really haven’t seen him barely at all since the end of March. Luckily for me, my guests were tired out by like 1:30am, and went home, so I could go to bed. The party went on for another 3 hours or so, which would have made it hard to sleep, if I hadn’t been totally whooped.
Oh yeah, I guess I should give an update on my poor leg. Well, it’s better, but not all the way, which is worrisome. I tried to go back to the doctor on Friday to get it checked up on, but German doctors are lazy (ok, probably not really, but I’m bitter) and he wasn’t in, because it was a “Bridge day,” which means that since Thursday was catholic holiday, for which everything was closed, the ol’ Doc decided to not go to work on Friday, thereby having a 4 day weekend. So I’m going to try to go tomorrow morning and have him look at my leg and give a verdict.
My verdict is something may be wrong, because it’s been now exactly 3 weeks since I had the misfortune to come between an American who thought he was supposed to be playing rugby and the Fußball goal, and exactly 11 days longer than the doc said it would take for me to be back on my pins and feeling fine. I can walk without crutches now, and even scamper across the street if I need to avoid insane German motorists, but I scamper with a limp, and after a long day of walking, my leg hurts a lot. All that, and my pinky toe is still asleep, which can’t be a good sign. I would say it is no longer asleep, maybe in a coma or something. My main hope is that I don’t end up with a lame leg for the rest of my life just because I misunderstood a German doctor.
That’s all for now, though I will try very hard to do a better job at keeping this thing up to date. I also have some photos, which I will be uploading for your viewing pleasure.
Now I’m off to try and write a 5-page paper on a book I haven’t finished reading, and which I fully intend on leaving unfinished. Still, the paper must be written. Ah, the life of a student…
Wednesday, May 14th
Well, it has been 1 week and three days since I hurt my leg, and though it’s gotten better, it’s still pretty ouchy, and I still can’t feel my toes. I think I’m going to go back to the doctor tomorrow, and hopefully get some more advice. The good news is that if I can just figure out the bus plan, I won’t have to pay anything, because you only have to pay a co-pay once every quarter in Germany, which I already paid for my first visit.
Even though I’ve been pretty confined to the very near vicinity, my life hasn’t been all just sitting in my room—thank God!
On the Tuesday directly following my verletzte leg episode, I had my 21st birthday. It was just about as anti-climactic as possible, turning 21 in a country where everyone 16 and up drinks beer by the bucketful. Therefore, to bring the irony to its crescendo, I decided to have a 21st birthday party completely devoid of all alcohol.
So on Tuesday afternoon, Alex Becker, mocktail mixer extraordinaire, went to the local grocery store and cleaned them out of juice, soft drinks, and the like. That night, we had a huge shindig in my kitchen, followed by billiards, kicker (Fussball), and cards. All in all, a wonderful time, despite my hobbling.
The best part about Tuesday though was getting to open The Package. This was the package that had come a couple of days early, and that with great strain on my self-control, I had managed to avoid opening. In the package were a plethora of letters, a picture drawn by Mercy, and an amazing book. It took me about 40 minutes to open everything and read the book, and was just completely wonderful.
…………
That was the last I wrote, and now it is a week and a half later, and I am finally posting it. Terrible. In self-defense though, life has just become totally crazy lately, and so I haven’t had much time to write anything. Still, I apologize for the barren wasteland that my blog has become.
Since then, a lot has happened. Perhaps the biggest change since then is that I now have a new roommate. The David moved out into his own room, and last Friday, Yousif moved in. I must admit that at first I was sort of upset that David was moving out, because I assumed it was because he didn’t like living with me. I now know that is false. It’s actually been an interesting culture-comparison, how German students really don’t like living with someone else. Back at my College, the only people who don’t have roommates are RAs, don’t have any friends to room with, or are antisocial. Ok, so that’s an exaggeration, but the general thought process is that living with people is fun, and many people end up becoming great friends with their roommate(s). Here though, the most basic expectation for a room is that it is a single room. Double rooms are very rare, and usually only for married couples.
So now I have a roommate from Yemen (for those of you who didn’t take Doctor Thomas’ ethnic music class and had to memorize a map of the world, Yemen is a country in the Middle East, right under Saudia Arabia, and right next to Oman). The first day, he asked me which direction was West, which I was only able to tell him because I remember taking a picture of the sunset from my bedroom window a few months ago, and I remembered which building got in my way. He is Muslim, and five times a day, he roles out his little prayer rug towards the West, while I sit on my bed and pray for him. It’s a pretty interesting situation, but a really cool one too, and really awesome, considering I am leaving Germany in July to go to London to learn about missions to Muslims. I get a pretty phenomenal boot camp, I guess.
In other news, my classes are picking up, and I’m starting to panic looking at the month of June, because my workload is now enough that I actually have homework that takes more than 30 minutes to do, and I have a 5 page paper coming up. the problem is that I am going to be in Marburg a total of 6.5 days between June 1 to June 14. I will be traveling all over the EU, to Luxemburg, Paris, and Barcelona. It will be a blast, but also really intense, and my paper is due on the 17th. That pretty much gives me this week to get it mostly done. Eek.
That’s pretty much the summary, except for the Party. Friday night we had a party here in the Schloß. Each person who lives here was allowed to invite 5 people. I invited Alex and Ali, and then David, a (different from my old roommate) German student from my Fencing course who Alex and I have become pretty good friends with. He is pretty awesome, and the only German I know who doesn’t drink, because he doesn’t like the taste of beer. So it’s nice to hang out with him. Elias, one of the Italians from my Sprachkurs also came, which was nice, since I really haven’t seen him barely at all since the end of March. Luckily for me, my guests were tired out by like 1:30am, and went home, so I could go to bed. The party went on for another 3 hours or so, which would have made it hard to sleep, if I hadn’t been totally whooped.
Oh yeah, I guess I should give an update on my poor leg. Well, it’s better, but not all the way, which is worrisome. I tried to go back to the doctor on Friday to get it checked up on, but German doctors are lazy (ok, probably not really, but I’m bitter) and he wasn’t in, because it was a “Bridge day,” which means that since Thursday was catholic holiday, for which everything was closed, the ol’ Doc decided to not go to work on Friday, thereby having a 4 day weekend. So I’m going to try to go tomorrow morning and have him look at my leg and give a verdict.
My verdict is something may be wrong, because it’s been now exactly 3 weeks since I had the misfortune to come between an American who thought he was supposed to be playing rugby and the Fußball goal, and exactly 11 days longer than the doc said it would take for me to be back on my pins and feeling fine. I can walk without crutches now, and even scamper across the street if I need to avoid insane German motorists, but I scamper with a limp, and after a long day of walking, my leg hurts a lot. All that, and my pinky toe is still asleep, which can’t be a good sign. I would say it is no longer asleep, maybe in a coma or something. My main hope is that I don’t end up with a lame leg for the rest of my life just because I misunderstood a German doctor.
That’s all for now, though I will try very hard to do a better job at keeping this thing up to date. I also have some photos, which I will be uploading for your viewing pleasure.
Now I’m off to try and write a 5-page paper on a book I haven’t finished reading, and which I fully intend on leaving unfinished. Still, the paper must be written. Ah, the life of a student…
7.5.08
From Frankfurt to the Doctor's office in 3 easy steps!
It’s been a long time since I’ve written, so I think the best way to go about this is to do this post as summary of the events, with dates in for clarification.
Almost 2 weeks ago, I went to Holland. Since then I haven’t gone on any other long trips. Last Saturday (the 26th) Kelsey, Ali, Fei, and I went to Frankfurt for the afternoon. It was really nice. The weather was so beautiful, that we didn’t want to go inside, so we just walked around the city, ate a typical wurst for lunch, followed by some Italian ice cream. We did walk into some really pretty churches, as well as the church where the original Unified German State was born (or at least I think that was what it was, if I understood correctly).
We window-shopped for a nice “Deutschland” t-shirt, but all of the tourist-type shirts were in English, so we didn’t buy one. We walked down by the river, and then decided we should take a nap in the sunshine J an hour or so later, we made our way to a place that was supposed to be very well known and popular for it’s Apple wine. We thought we would be good tourists and try some, so we went. Sadly, the service was horrible, and the Apfelwein was pretty gross. But we tried it, and now I know that wine should definitely be made out of grapes, not apples.
That was the last really big adventure until recently.
This weekend was absolutely crazy. I’ve been trying to go somewhere every weekend, since we have free access to the public transportation anywhere in the Rhein valley, but this weekend I on purpose stayed home to prepare for a very scary event: teaching 40 minutes of class in my Theoretical concepts of Foreign language learning class.
Unfortunately, come Saturday, I still had a lot of work to do preparing for it. This was because I helped out with a coffee/tea/cakes/sandwich sale that the Collegium Philippinum put on for a theology symposium in the Alte Uni (the old university). It was a really neat time, because I got to hang out with some of my housemates for about 10 hours when it was all said and done, which I don’t get to do very often. Fei and I worked a lot together, and it was just a fun time where I could feel useful even though my German isn’t perfect. Plus, the more I hang out with Germans, the better my German gets. I definitely wish I could just live with a family instead of taking classes at the University. My free time spent just goofing around with Germans is infinitely more profitable than my courses at the University. Oh well, I guess I have to pull the ol’ wool over the System’s eyes somehow…
Another really neat thing about helping out with the sale is that I got to see the inside of the Alte Universität, which I probably wouldn’t have otherwise, since I don’t have any Theology classes. It is a gorgeous building, which used to be a monastery until Duke Philipp became Protestant and kicked the monks out to start a protestant seminary. Anyway, it’s absolutely gorgeous and old, and I totally understand now why there are so many theology majors here. If went here long term, I would definitely switch to theology just because then I would spend all my time in the beautiful Alte Uni instead of the hideously ugly Humanities building. Seriously, there is no way to describe the difference. I should just take some pictures and post them; that’s the only way to get a really clear understanding…
On Sunday, I played vollyball with a bunch of BCAers and Fei, and then Patrick and I left to go across town to play some pick up Fussball (soccer) with some other exchange students. It was the start of a rather intense adventure, full of peril and injury.
We were a motley crew of students, from all over the place: Britain, Ireland, Finland, Peru, Spain, the USA, and more. I ended up on a team with all Spanish-speakers, which definitely put me a little at a disadvantage as far as knowing what the rest of my team was doing. But with a mix of German, Spanish, and English, we managed ok. Well, except that we stunk. We were getting hammered, partially because we had one less man than the other team, and partially because all of the Spanish guys could play decent offense, but pretty stinky defense, and goalkeeper not at all. Finally, I decided I should see if I could dig up some of my past goal-keeping experience from back in Junior high, and I stepped in to the box as keeper. It actually went a little better from there on out, plus we gained another player, and I was doing a better job at blocking the shots that were getting back to the goal. Then, it happened. One of the players on the other team, an American, ironically enough, got a break-away chance, and somehow made it past the offence into the 18-yard box. It is an important detail that he was American, because he was neither a good soccer player, nor a lithe personality, and made up for his lack of speed and skill by being extremely rough. He attempted to score, and failed. However, in the process of failing, he through his entire mass into my right leg, with me promptly collapsing with the ball in my possession.
At first I thought my leg might be broken, it hurt so bad, but I thought I would give it some time, “walk it off,” like coach always told us to back in the day. The problem with walking it off, is that in order to do that, you have to be able to walk, a skill which I had somehow managed to unlearn during my violent interaction with Uncle Sam’s chunky nephew. After about 20 minutes of trying to “hobble it off,” I decided that it might actually be a better idea to try making my way home, since with a bum leg it was sure to take a long time, and the sun was already getting sleepy. So I bid the boys, chicos, and Jungen fairwell, and began the long limp home.
Marburg on Sunday is dead. No shops are open, and, unfortunately for our wounded protagonist, there are apparently also no buses. At 8pm, after crawling up 139 steps almost on my hands and knees, I arrived back at the Castle. The trip that usually takes me 20 minutes walking took me over an hour to make. At this point, I was absolutely exhausted and in a fair amount of pain, so I crawled up the stairs to my room, and went to sleep, hoping that it was just a big bang injury, and that it would feel better in the morning.
The next morning, I woke up and could barely stand up. That’s when I realized I needed to go to the doctor. After showering using a pilfered broomstick as a crutch, I called the BCA director here in Marburg, to get information about doctors and such. Hanging up the phone, I was armed with information, but not much else. I knew what I needed to do, I just didn’t think I could do it. I needed to find a phonebook (no clue where one of those would be) and look up “Arzt,” the german word for doctor. Next, look at the addresses with a map of Marburg in one hand to find out which was the closest. Then, I needed to call a taxi (in German) and have them take me to the doctor. Then, I needed to find out what was wrong with my leg, and if necessary, go to the hospital.
In all honesty, that would be hard for me to do in the States, in English. I was overwhelmed. I probably would have just tried going back to sleep, in hopes that more sleep would = magical cure, but my leg hurt too much to ignore, so I sat there on my bed, trying to gather my thoughts, and take action. That’s when my roommate woke up.
Just a side note, I would like to nominate David Bethmann for the Nobel Peace Prize. I would also like to thank the entire Collegium Philippinum for just being absolutely amazing.
When Dave heard of my plight, he jumped into action like a New York firefighter. First, he ran next door to Christian, who came over with a pair of crutches that he let me have. This made it possible for me to actually move around semi-independently. Then, Elena, my Romanian neighbor who is studying for her MD, came over and assessed the leg, giving me a little hope in her diagnoses that it almost for sure wasn’t broken. Meanwhile, David was running across the parking lot to the Repetent, Herr Warnemann, who then came up and offered to take me to his personal physician in his car. 20 minutes later, I was on my way, with a bevy of well-wishers waving goodbye.
We arrived at Herr Warnemanns Hausarzt, and I went up to the desk and gave them my handy insurance card, which everyone who comes to Germany to stay for any substantial amount of time gets. I paid my €10 co-pay thingy (which I only have to pay once every 4 months or something, regardless of how many visits I make to the Arzt) and then sat down in the waiting room to, well, wait. Just when I thought I couldn’t wait any more, the lady called my name, and off I hobbled into the maze that is every private practitioner’s office that I’ve ever been in.
No, seriously: why are doctor’s offices so impossibly laid out? Is it so the patients can’t get cold feet and escape? I know I would die of starvation before I every found my way out of that aMAZEing labyrinth.
After waiting some more for the doc, he finally came in, and I began my first ever doctor check up in a foreign language. It was an adventure, to say the least. I managed to convey what had happened, and show him where and how it hurt, and then I think I even understood everything he said.
The result is that I know for sure that the bone isn’t cracked or broken. The reason it hurt so bad is because the muscle had swelled up so much that it pinched the nerve in my leg, giving me a very intense version of the nasty un-comfort you feel after you’ve been driving in a car for about 8 hours. The swelling had also pinched some blood vessels which explained why my foot had been asleep for about 8 hours.
He gave me a prescription for some magical soothing salve—called “pain salve,” ironically enough, and sent me home gimpy, but happy.
Now I am on the mend, and able to limp around with the help of one and sometimes no crutch, and things are looking up. The swelling has gone down a lot, so that my leg doesn’t hurt unless roughly disturbed, though my foot is still asleep. So the next goal is to get the swelling to go down enough that I can be rid of the odd rubber mass that seems to have taken the place of the right side of my right foot. I miss my pinky toe, dang it!
And that is the end of the Saga of my leg and experience with the German healthcare system.
Well, this has become and obscenely long entry, so I’ll leave it at that until later.
This is Gimpy, signing off.
23.4.08
New Pictures!
For your viewing pleasure, there are 4 new albums up, entitled:
-Scheveningen and Keukenhof
-Hike to Spiegelslustturm
-Schnee im Sommersemester
-Wien!
Viel Spaß!
-Scheveningen and Keukenhof
-Hike to Spiegelslustturm
-Schnee im Sommersemester
-Wien!
Viel Spaß!
22.4.08
when we last left our hero...
...he was starting classes. Now he is shocked and appalled to realize that it has been almost 2 weeks since his last post, and begs his public and cheerers-on to forgive him.
That said, where to begin?
Since my last post, much has happened, both significant, insignificant, and no longer significant. Courses continue to progress smoothly, some getting harder, some getting more challenging, but also becoming more doable as I find my rhythm. My Concepts of foreign-language-learning course zum Beispiel is in a rough way, and I'm still trying to figure out how to go about doing it. The confusion comes in that the class is all in German, as well as the discussion and the homework. The catch comes in that all of the texts that we are reading, getting theories and whatnot from, are in English. Surprising, no? I must confess I was blown away at the beginning of the course, when the professor announced (in German, of course,) "if anyone here thinks they may have trouble reading and understanding English, please raise your hand." Can you imagine what would happen in the USA if a prof announced in say, a Political History class or something, that the students would have to be tolerantly fluent in Spanish to take the class?
Yeah, neither can I. Living in Europe is definitely a different linguistic reality then the US.
Anyway, It is surprisingly dificult to write homework in German on English texts, especially English texts that are full of field-specific vocabulary. I have no idea what these words would be in German, and I have no resource to look them up in, because no normal dictionary has them, and all of the linguistic sources we are studying are in English. Anyway, that is a problem to which I'm still seeking a solution.
My other classes are going well though, which is encouraging. Taking classes in German is not as impossible as I originally thought it would be, and it is so helpful to have had some english background in some of the subjects, like in Linguistics.
In other, more interesting, every-day life, I have also been doing a bit here and there. Two Saturdays ago, I went with some other BCA students down to Frankfurt, where we visited the Flohmarkt there (flee market). In addition to being as sketchy as all get-out, it was a very fun time, though we didn't dare buy anything. It was amazing the variety of complete junk to be had there. I was half-tempted to buy an ancient pirate-style pistol (it was real!) but thought better of it, realizing that something of that size and weight would be hard to squeeze in to bring back to the states. I did however pick up and play a guitar there, just to be able to say I've played a guitar in the Flee Market in Frankfurt.
Then, this most recently bygone Saturday, I got up at 3am in the morning with Kelsey and Alex to go to the Netherlands. We were taking a bus there for just the day (I love Europe!) to see the world's largest flower garden in Keukenhof, Holland.
(Info point: Holland is actually a region in the Netherlands, like a state in the USA.)
Before I start stumbling around through silly words trying to describe the indescribable beauty of Keukenhof, I would like to give a small commentary on the bus ride.
First of all, sadly, most young, student-aged kids aren't that interested in flowers. Students who go to the Netherlands don't go to see flowers, they go to Amsterdam to party and to visit the "Coffee Shops," which are actually over-the-counter narcotics distributers, if my sources are trustworthy. This means that me, Alex, Kelsey, and two other students, Telsche (who is in my Biedebach classes) and Katharina, were the only people under like 50 on the whole bus. You'd think that this would make for a peaceful, relatively uneventful trip. Maybe in America, but here in Europe, if you want to get 50 some geriatrics to sit through a 6 hour bus ride without complaining or griping, the solution is simple. Give them lots of coffee, wine, and beer.
I admit I have nothing against drinking a nice glass of something a bit stronger than orange juice every once in a while, but when I saw grandpa two rows behind me downing a glass of hard liquor at 6 in the morning, I started to get worried. By the time we arrived in Scheveningen (a little south-west of Keukenhof) there had been more alcohol consumed by our rowdy aged crew than I would have thought possible. Needless, to say, it was a trip full of adventure, cramped legs, and loud, jolly voices.
After strolling up and down the North Sea coast for two hours, we hopped back on the bus to head to the flower garden in Keukenhof. This was the most amazing part of the whole trip, and one of the most incredible places I've ever seen. As we drove into the area, I noticed fields all around me. They were large, like a field you would grow corn or some other crop in. Only it wasn't corn that was growing in those fields, but rather flowers. One field was entirely daffodils, another tulips. Absolutely heavenly. Then we actually got to The Garden.
I can't begin to describe it, and I will just have to post the pictures I took. But they don't even begin to do it justice either, because you can't smell the beauty with a picture. The whole afternoon as we strolled through the most beautiful avenues, I would sometimes just stop and breath, and breath, and breath. Not a good place to go if you have allergies, by the way! thankfully, I was fine. The whole thing was so beautiful, you walked away feeling like your spirit had been healed to a certain extent, and it made me wonder not for the first time, if creating such places and then sending war or famine victims there wouldn't do a lot of good. You know, making a sanctuary, where anyone who had been through horrifying ordeals could go and just heal. An interesting idea, at any rate.
The trip was definitely worth the mere € 48 that it cost to take a 6 hour bus both ways and get tickets into the World's Largest Flower Garden.
Ahh, Keukenhof...Een stukje van de hemel op aarde
Oh, and I really want to learn Dutch now :-) It's like halfway between English and German, and sounds like lazy German spoken with a Scottish brogue.
10.4.08
"Keep waiting, I'll be right on time," or "Even if you cannot hear my voice, I'll be right beside you dear"
This Post is dedicated to David Rosentrater, Skype, and borrowed music.
So I think it's about time to update this thing. A number of things have come to pass which are noteworthy, and so I note them:
-My classes for Marburg are officially chosen
-My classes for Messiah are officially chosen (unless I decide to change them)
-I am a second-week-victim of Hausversammelung
-I have a roommate! (almost)
Now to expound.
Classes at Marburg run as follows: Monday I have a Pronunciation class, in hopes that in a couple weeks I will be able to introduce myself to a German without getting the immediate response, "Du bist Amerikaner?" Actually I haven't had that happen to me a lot, but I do have some trouble making myself understood at times, and already after only the second class, I feel more comfortable with pronunciation. All this to say, I'm excited about the class. Also on Monday I have Introduction to German Linguistics. This class is absolutely awesome. I am already familiar with a lot of the stuff we are learning, having taking a Linguistics class at Messiah (thanks Chuck!), and so now I am learning the German terminology for things, and also getting to review a class that I wished I would have been able to go more in depth with! On top of all that, one of the Italians from my Sprachkurs, Sylvia, is in it with me, which means I'll have a way to keep connected to her, Elias, and François.
Tuesday I have 3 courses almost right in a row. The first is a good old fashioned Grammar course, with amazing Frau Biedebach. The second, also with Biedebach, is a literature course that is probably going to kill me with all the reading we have to do. Actually, as I write this I should probably be reading for it, but whatever...
After my Biedebach marathon, I have an hour or so before "Theoretical concepts of Foreign language learning." Those of you who know me will realize that just reading the title of this course online made me drool. The class is even more amazing, and again, I am being re-introduced to many concepts (only now auf deutsch) that I learned last semester with my TESOL class (thanks Michelle!).
Wednesday, I just have Fencing in the evening, which is starting to pick up a little more speed. So far we have just been practicing posture, footwork, etc. Hopefully in the next two weeks we'll get to don the mask and glove and toucher each other.
Messiah classes are looking fun too. I managed to procure a prerequisite waver for 300 level Spanish courses, since I haven't taken 206 yet. The goal is to hit the Self-learning center at the Sprachzentrum once a week for an hour or so to brush up on my Spanish while here in Marburg, so that I can come home and jump into mind-watering classes like "Applied (Spanish) Phonetics," and "Topics in Spanish Pennsular Literature."I'm also taking a German literature course, a medieval Philosophy course, and, just for fun, French 102! I'm pretty begeistert, to say the least.
Life at the Collegium Philippinum is getting better, and also worse. Ok, so that was rather confusing. I am connecting with my housemates more (now that everyone is back from break) and that is awesome. Many good times eating together and playing an up-the-river-down-the-river hybrid called "Wizard." Fei, a chinese student, and Jan, a German student are my two fellow Wizard addicts, and also some of the coolest people I've met yet in Germany.
In addition to Fei and Jan, I got to meet my room-mate-tomorrow-to-be. That is, he is moving in tomorrow. I'm really excited; even though this Dave is shorter than me, and considerably more bearded than my Dave back home, he still seems like a really nice guy, and I'm looking forward to many good times, both couth and uncouth, hanging out with him. I am already anticipating how much my German is going to improve having a roommate to speak it with. In any case, it is nice to have a stand in Dave, as a Dave-less existence is hardly an existence at all.
Life is not all Daves, Sonnenschein, and Blumen though; in every Leben must fall some Regen.
The rain of which I speak falls every Monday night from about 8:15 and persists until around 11:30 pm. This is the dreaded "Hausversammelung." A direct one-to-one translation would be "house assembly," but this doesn't capture all of the fine cultural points and nuances of the thing. Here is a more semantically accurate Übersetzung:
Hausversammelung 1 |hous-fehr-zam-mell-ung|
noun
1 ( Hausversammelung) A late meeting in which Germans argue heatedly for hours over petty things, through which people who have no idea what is going on are forced to sit, praying that either someone will set of the fire alarm, or Christ will return and save his children from the awful tribulation.
that captures the true spirit of the thing, I think. Needless to say, it is not much fun, but I am learning vocabulary in a way that I never would do otherwise: pure context. Last week, I learned the word for Mildew--"Schimmel" (shim-mell)--simply by hearing it talked about in context for almost an hour. This week, I learned "Bewerbung"--application, after hearing people bicker over when, how, why, and from whom the Collegium Philippinum should accept residency applications. Viel Spaß, Baby.
Enough schimpfen though. All in all, life is going pretty well, even despite the fact that I have finally gotten sick. Everyone else has been sick long before now, and I managed to hold out until this morning I woke up with a sore throat. I think I'll break down and buy some yummy herbal tea.
This weekend (aka, today through Sunday--I love my schedule!) promises lots of homework, but also some fun relaxing. Saturday has plans for a visit to a Schloss in a town a train ride away, and tonight I'm going to get to talk to Kathryn, which pretty much makes today Christmas, or at least Kwanzaa. Until then, I am going to apply myself diligently (maybe) to read some for my Literature, take a nap (almost certainly) so I am not tired tonight at 11:30 when Kathryn calls, and listen to sweet music from Ruth Rosentrater (which I am in the process of doing).
And that brings me full circle to the end of this post, and the explanation for its title(s).
They are the main lines from two awesome songs that I just listened to. The first is from "Keep waiting" by Stavesacre, the second is "Run," by snowpatrol. Both come highly recommended by self and co.
Well, the credits are about to roll, and so I follow suit. Tschüß!
So I think it's about time to update this thing. A number of things have come to pass which are noteworthy, and so I note them:
-My classes for Marburg are officially chosen
-My classes for Messiah are officially chosen (unless I decide to change them)
-I am a second-week-victim of Hausversammelung
-I have a roommate! (almost)
Now to expound.
Classes at Marburg run as follows: Monday I have a Pronunciation class, in hopes that in a couple weeks I will be able to introduce myself to a German without getting the immediate response, "Du bist Amerikaner?" Actually I haven't had that happen to me a lot, but I do have some trouble making myself understood at times, and already after only the second class, I feel more comfortable with pronunciation. All this to say, I'm excited about the class. Also on Monday I have Introduction to German Linguistics. This class is absolutely awesome. I am already familiar with a lot of the stuff we are learning, having taking a Linguistics class at Messiah (thanks Chuck!), and so now I am learning the German terminology for things, and also getting to review a class that I wished I would have been able to go more in depth with! On top of all that, one of the Italians from my Sprachkurs, Sylvia, is in it with me, which means I'll have a way to keep connected to her, Elias, and François.
Tuesday I have 3 courses almost right in a row. The first is a good old fashioned Grammar course, with amazing Frau Biedebach. The second, also with Biedebach, is a literature course that is probably going to kill me with all the reading we have to do. Actually, as I write this I should probably be reading for it, but whatever...
After my Biedebach marathon, I have an hour or so before "Theoretical concepts of Foreign language learning." Those of you who know me will realize that just reading the title of this course online made me drool. The class is even more amazing, and again, I am being re-introduced to many concepts (only now auf deutsch) that I learned last semester with my TESOL class (thanks Michelle!).
Wednesday, I just have Fencing in the evening, which is starting to pick up a little more speed. So far we have just been practicing posture, footwork, etc. Hopefully in the next two weeks we'll get to don the mask and glove and toucher each other.
Messiah classes are looking fun too. I managed to procure a prerequisite waver for 300 level Spanish courses, since I haven't taken 206 yet. The goal is to hit the Self-learning center at the Sprachzentrum once a week for an hour or so to brush up on my Spanish while here in Marburg, so that I can come home and jump into mind-watering classes like "Applied (Spanish) Phonetics," and "Topics in Spanish Pennsular Literature."I'm also taking a German literature course, a medieval Philosophy course, and, just for fun, French 102! I'm pretty begeistert, to say the least.
Life at the Collegium Philippinum is getting better, and also worse. Ok, so that was rather confusing. I am connecting with my housemates more (now that everyone is back from break) and that is awesome. Many good times eating together and playing an up-the-river-down-the-river hybrid called "Wizard." Fei, a chinese student, and Jan, a German student are my two fellow Wizard addicts, and also some of the coolest people I've met yet in Germany.
In addition to Fei and Jan, I got to meet my room-mate-tomorrow-to-be. That is, he is moving in tomorrow. I'm really excited; even though this Dave is shorter than me, and considerably more bearded than my Dave back home, he still seems like a really nice guy, and I'm looking forward to many good times, both couth and uncouth, hanging out with him. I am already anticipating how much my German is going to improve having a roommate to speak it with. In any case, it is nice to have a stand in Dave, as a Dave-less existence is hardly an existence at all.
Life is not all Daves, Sonnenschein, and Blumen though; in every Leben must fall some Regen.
The rain of which I speak falls every Monday night from about 8:15 and persists until around 11:30 pm. This is the dreaded "Hausversammelung." A direct one-to-one translation would be "house assembly," but this doesn't capture all of the fine cultural points and nuances of the thing. Here is a more semantically accurate Übersetzung:
Hausversammelung 1 |hous-fehr-zam-mell-ung|
noun
1 ( Hausversammelung) A late meeting in which Germans argue heatedly for hours over petty things, through which people who have no idea what is going on are forced to sit, praying that either someone will set of the fire alarm, or Christ will return and save his children from the awful tribulation.
that captures the true spirit of the thing, I think. Needless to say, it is not much fun, but I am learning vocabulary in a way that I never would do otherwise: pure context. Last week, I learned the word for Mildew--"Schimmel" (shim-mell)--simply by hearing it talked about in context for almost an hour. This week, I learned "Bewerbung"--application, after hearing people bicker over when, how, why, and from whom the Collegium Philippinum should accept residency applications. Viel Spaß, Baby.
Enough schimpfen though. All in all, life is going pretty well, even despite the fact that I have finally gotten sick. Everyone else has been sick long before now, and I managed to hold out until this morning I woke up with a sore throat. I think I'll break down and buy some yummy herbal tea.
This weekend (aka, today through Sunday--I love my schedule!) promises lots of homework, but also some fun relaxing. Saturday has plans for a visit to a Schloss in a town a train ride away, and tonight I'm going to get to talk to Kathryn, which pretty much makes today Christmas, or at least Kwanzaa. Until then, I am going to apply myself diligently (maybe) to read some for my Literature, take a nap (almost certainly) so I am not tired tonight at 11:30 when Kathryn calls, and listen to sweet music from Ruth Rosentrater (which I am in the process of doing).
And that brings me full circle to the end of this post, and the explanation for its title(s).
They are the main lines from two awesome songs that I just listened to. The first is from "Keep waiting" by Stavesacre, the second is "Run," by snowpatrol. Both come highly recommended by self and co.
Well, the credits are about to roll, and so I follow suit. Tschüß!
3.4.08
First week of classes
As of Monday, March 31, I officially became a student here at Philipps Universität in Marburg. As of Tuesday, I am no able to ride the buses, trains, rickshaws, and other forms of public transportation, gratis and without fear of a 40 € fine (which as per the current rate, is approximately equal to 62 USD and 51 cents. *sigh*).
So now my first week of classes is over! Wait, what? But it's only thursday...? Welcome to the German System of Higher education. The average classes here meets once a week for about an hour and a half or so. So, if the student so desires, he or she may elect to take courses only on certain days, thereby leaving certain days completely free. I was one such student, and my current course schedule calls for a moderately strenuous Monday through Wednesday, followed by a 4 day weekend inclusive of days Thurs-Sun. I am admittedly quite pleased, as this will leave me plenty of opportunity to travel (as supplies last of course) without having to skip any classes.
This week my schedule was the following:
Montag Monday
Those of my college friends who are looking at those 8 courses and scratching their heads, saying "what, for petes sake, is Josiah taking 8 classes for?!" Well, I have an explanation. Over here, only certain courses translate to the American 3 credit system. Most of them are 2 credit courses.
That said, actually all of the ones I am taking, except for fencing, just happen to be 3 credits :P So yes, I attended 22 credits worth of classes this week! Woo hoo! Naturally, this means I will not actually be able to attend all of these classes, since I can only transfer 18 credits back to messiah. So I will have to stop going to one of the courses, because the preparatory Language course that I took during the month before University classes started will transfer back to Messiah as 4 credits. that will leave me with 20 credits, which although it is more than 18, is at least only a little bit more...I'm not sure how I am going to swing that, so you can all be praying that messiah lets me take extra classes free of charge.
A quick return to the actual classes though, namely Fechten.
I hope all of you Messiah College-ites are thoroughly jealous that I get to cover my last activity course not with badminton, softball, or even the ever-popular water Aerobics, but with Fencing. I know I am pretty much ecstatic. Alex Becker and I went for the first session last night, and it was very sweet. We learned the three main types of Fencing swords, or "Waffen," in German. They are as following:
Florett - Foil
Säbel - Saber
Degen - best definition is "rapier;" a little bit stockier than a Florett, but with generally the same style of fencing.
We also learned a little bit of history. If I understood correctly (I'll double check and correct errors later), back when people used to have duels, there were two main courses of conduct. The French would fence with real, sharp fencing swords, and each bit of blood drawn on the opponent was a point. The Germans on the other hand, must have thought that was too complicated, and simply held that the last one standing was the winner.
Thankfully, nowadays we have lots of cool electronic gadgets that tell you when you would have been bleeding if we were still back in the day.... :)
So now my first week of classes is over! Wait, what? But it's only thursday...? Welcome to the German System of Higher education. The average classes here meets once a week for about an hour and a half or so. So, if the student so desires, he or she may elect to take courses only on certain days, thereby leaving certain days completely free. I was one such student, and my current course schedule calls for a moderately strenuous Monday through Wednesday, followed by a 4 day weekend inclusive of days Thurs-Sun. I am admittedly quite pleased, as this will leave me plenty of opportunity to travel (as supplies last of course) without having to skip any classes.
This week my schedule was the following:
Montag Monday
- 9:15 - 10:45 Ausspracheübung und Lesen Pronunciation practice and reading
- 11:15 - 12:45 Einführung in das Althochdeutsche Introduction to Old High German
- 2:15 - 3:45 Einführung in die Linguistik des Deutschen 1 Introduction to German Linguistiks 1
- 9:15 - 10:45 BCA German Literature Course
- 11:15 - 12:45 BCA Grammatik Grammar
- 2:15 - 3:45 Theoretische Konzepte des Fremdsprachenlernens theoretical concepts of foreign language learning
- 9:15 - 10:45 Einführung in die formale Semantik Introduction to Symbolic Semantics
- 7:30 - 10:30pm Fechten Fencing
Those of my college friends who are looking at those 8 courses and scratching their heads, saying "what, for petes sake, is Josiah taking 8 classes for?!" Well, I have an explanation. Over here, only certain courses translate to the American 3 credit system. Most of them are 2 credit courses.
That said, actually all of the ones I am taking, except for fencing, just happen to be 3 credits :P So yes, I attended 22 credits worth of classes this week! Woo hoo! Naturally, this means I will not actually be able to attend all of these classes, since I can only transfer 18 credits back to messiah. So I will have to stop going to one of the courses, because the preparatory Language course that I took during the month before University classes started will transfer back to Messiah as 4 credits. that will leave me with 20 credits, which although it is more than 18, is at least only a little bit more...I'm not sure how I am going to swing that, so you can all be praying that messiah lets me take extra classes free of charge.
A quick return to the actual classes though, namely Fechten.
I hope all of you Messiah College-ites are thoroughly jealous that I get to cover my last activity course not with badminton, softball, or even the ever-popular water Aerobics, but with Fencing. I know I am pretty much ecstatic. Alex Becker and I went for the first session last night, and it was very sweet. We learned the three main types of Fencing swords, or "Waffen," in German. They are as following:
Florett - Foil
Säbel - Saber
Degen - best definition is "rapier;" a little bit stockier than a Florett, but with generally the same style of fencing.
We also learned a little bit of history. If I understood correctly (I'll double check and correct errors later), back when people used to have duels, there were two main courses of conduct. The French would fence with real, sharp fencing swords, and each bit of blood drawn on the opponent was a point. The Germans on the other hand, must have thought that was too complicated, and simply held that the last one standing was the winner.
Thankfully, nowadays we have lots of cool electronic gadgets that tell you when you would have been bleeding if we were still back in the day.... :)
29.3.08
"Baba Vienna, hallo Marburg" or "Sandwich and pop in broken German"
Wien. Vienna. City of culture, of composers, of music and cafés. Ahhh.
And yet I'm so glad to be back in little ol' Marburg…
But Wien was marvelous on many levels. I wish I had more time to get to know the city, because I feel like I only got the bare scraping of a glance during my 4 days there. The city reminds me of a sort of modern Gondor, with stately white stone architecture, high domes dedicated to art and history, and long tree-lined pathways. Why anyone needs a car in Vienna is beyond me--the public transportation system is incredible. Subways, Taxis, and Trollies make navigating the city a cinch. Vienna is an unbelievably clean city. Marburg puts most US cities to shame, and Vienna makes Marburg look like inner city Philadelphia. Now to the actual trip!
On Monday evening , after several hours of riding trains, plains, and subways, we arrived at our hotel. It was really nice. That evening, we ate out at a "typisch" restaurant and I had my first Wiener Schnitzel! It was delicious, especially with some lemon juice on it...mmm...
The next morning we got up and ate a delicious continental breakfast, and then headed off on a tour of the city. Our tour guide, Wolfgang Höfler, was awesome, and had a sweet Wienerisch accent. He was really knowledgeable about the city, and I wished for the umpteenth time that I was fluent in German, so that I could understand more. He took us all around to the little nooks and crannies that I would have never found on my own, but which were still incredible, like two of the houses that Mozart lived in! The only downside to the tour other than my linguistic incompetence was the fact that it was freezing and snowing the whole time. Due to our just sub-frostbitten condition, after the tour we made a bee-line for somewhere warm where we could eat lunch. We found a really nice Pizzeria, where I spent more money on Pizza than I ever have in my life. Still, I was warm, and for that, I gladly paid my 9 € and tried not to think about the exchange rate.
That afternoon we went to the IAEA center, which is the International Atomic Energy Agency. the IAEA tries to regulate the use of atomic energy, and to ensure that it is used for peaceful means only. Obviously this isn’t the reality, and many countries (the US included) still insist on the production or possession of Nuclear weapons. We learned about what the IAEA is trying to do, and also a little about the UN, and how people are working towards a global nuclear disarming. It was encouraging and also a little depressing, since there are so many countries that refuse to disarm—the USA included.
After the tour, we went to the Prater, which is the giant Ferris wheel in Vienna. It was pretty impressive, but as I got into the car, I looked behind us at the sky and was a little uneasy…
It turns out I had a good reason to be uneasy. About halfway up the circle (we were moving v e r y s l o w l y) we heard a huge crash of thunder, and then lightning! “Great,” I thought, “what a way to go: electrocuted on a world-famous Ferris wheel…” It was definitely scary, especially when it started to snow. What?! Snow?! During a thunderstorm?! Apparently the weather decided that Thunder and lightning really wasn’t apropos for March, and so almost instantaneously switched to gale-force winds and more snow than I have seen since I visited up-state New York in January. This wasn’t your regular snowstorm, it was a blizzard, and we were smack in the middle of it, 200 ft in the air. I wasn’t actually worried until snow started blowing in through the windows and door—all of which were closed.
In any case though, we arrived back on the ground safe and sound, and all the better for having had the adventure. We all assured Herr Riggs that we wouldn’t sue him, or blog about the experience thereby making our parents and loved ones hysterical thinking that we were in the hands of a mad program director who was in the habit of taking his pupils out into the heinous elements of mother nature on PMS.
oh wait…oops. Well, I still won’t sue him.
The next day was Wednesday, and we were off to the Schloss Schönbrunn. It was really impressive, actually, and very palace-y and incredible. There were endless art galleries, which was really neat. The only problem was that I took too long, and thought that the rest of the group left me behind. in a panic I rushed out of the Schloss, to see the distant backs of Alex, Amy, Ruth, Sharon, and Avdo. I hailed them in German, and they waited for me. After collecting Bridgette (who was behind me) we decided to try to visit the Tier Garten (zoo) that was right next door. After discovering that the Eintritt cost was 12 + €, we promptly changed our plans and went to the Palm Greenhouse across the way. The entrance fee was too much there as well, so we got on a Trolley and made our way to the Naschmarkt.
The Naschmarkt may well have been my favorite part of the trip. It was an open air market, with everything imaginable for sale. Well, as far as food went, that is. There was one category of non-edible merchandise, and the stalls just seemed to tessellate down the rows, until you were quite sure you’d seen the exact same stall 100 feet earlier. We bought huge pieces of bread for next to nothing, and some cheese fresh off the block to go with it. Then we made for a park and ate our simple meal in the sun. After our lunch, we were all very thrilled that we’d managed to have a meal in Vienna for only about 2.50 € each, so we went to an unbelievably expensive café to celebrate. Actually, it turned out it wasn’t unbelievably expensive, just regularly expensive. It was very posh though, and so I was amazed when the 4.20 € I spent on what I thought was a cup of tea turned out to be an entire pot. three cups of the good old Earl later, I was happy and content.
It was getting late, so we headed back to the hotel to dress for the theater. I am happy to be able to say I went to the theater in Wien, but in all honesty, I didn’t like the play much. It was a Freudian concept play about guilt, and where it comes from, and in the end the main characters were raped, murdered, and then committed suicide. The mechanics of the play—the acting and effects—were very well done, absolutely top-notch. The story was just blicky.
So afterwards, when we went out to eat, I got a huge dish of ice cream, which reminded me that there is more to life than Freud, guilt, and getting hit by trains. Ice cream is very effective therapy.
Thursday morning we traipsed off to the Schloss Belvedere. this was my favorite artsy place that we visited. It felt smaller, and there wasn’t as much art, but the art that was there was wonderful. I got to see some actual Rembrandt and even piece by Monet! It was much better than the Art History museum, which we visited directly afterwards.
The Kunsthistorisches Museum was actually very impressive. There was a lot of art in there. The building was also beautiful and old and made you think of places like the Library at Alexandria and whatnot. However, most of the art was of the same genre, and it was a genre that has always failed to capture the imagination in my case. Maybe I’m an uncultured barbarian, which is very possible, but after a while portraits of men in large wigs, nude women, and tortured souls being torn asunder all start to look the same after the 20th one or so. Alex Becker and I strolled around trying to be cultured for a while, and finally gave it up as a bad job. We did come to the conclusion however that if Art was any sort of reliable historical mirror, then one could safely assume that it was not the cultural norm for women to wear a shirt—or any clothes at all for that matter—until the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Skeptics may snort at this hypothesis, but I remain convinced. I have felt the nail-holes, so to speak, and believe.
After the Museum, a bunch of us went and pretended we were 8 years old. We bought amazing cheese-filled hot dogs at a street stand, and then ate them in a park, where we proceeded to play in a random sandbox, and then give each other piggy-back rides throughout the park. I was regrettably not a part of the piggy-backing, but it did afford me the most pleasurable task of observing the Viennese citizens’ reactions to two sets of grown adults on the shoulders of two other sets of equally grown adults.
We went to the Freud Museum at 3pm, and took a quick tour. I’d hoped that the museum might clear up the confusion of the Theater, but it didn’t, although I did get to sit on a bon a fide analysis couch. That was cool.
That evening, we went to dinner at the Ritziest place I’ve ever been in my life. It was a restaurant in the Donauturm, a hugely tall tower in Vienna, sort of the Eiffel of Wien. The restaurant actually rotated, so that during the course of your meal, you saw a 360-degree view of the city. It was beautiful. Thankfully, the tab was on BCA, because it ended up being a combined bill of around 280 €, which translates to about $35 a person. Eek.
the next day we had 6 hours or so before we had to leave to go home, so I spent the first 3 sleeping in and lazing around the hotel. Then Nicole, Alex, and I went out to the graveyard.
What? We’re in Vienna, and we go to a graveyard? Well, yes, actually. And it was lovely. Not only was it peaceful and a welcome change from the hustle and bustle of the past 4 days, we got to see some pretty incredible people’s resting places. Among other great composers, we saw Brahms, Schubert, and Mozart! Beethoven’s actual grave wasn’t there, but there was a memorial that was the exact replica of his real grave, so it was still pretty awesome.
On the way back, we had a 20 minute wait in the train station, waiting for our ride to the airport. I was exhausted from walking, so I sat down on the nearest bench. It turns out I'm glad I did, because the following interaction was the most significant part of my whole Wien experience. I sat down, and heard a wheezy voice at my ear. I looked up, and saw that the guy sitting next to me was looking a little worse for wear. After a few minutes of conversation, I'd ascertained that this fellow wasn't Austrian, or even German. He was Russian, and his German was worse than mine. He'd been stuck in the station for 3 days, because he couldn't afford a ticket or something, I didn't catch it exactly. At any rate, it was pretty clear that he was asking me for money. I almost told him no, like people always do to panderers in big cities. You never know if they are asking you for drug money or what, and so you just don't give them anything. But then I had an idea. I asked him if he was hungry. He didn't seem to understand, so I tried again. "Kann ich dir etwas zu essen kaufen?" Can I buy you something to eat? This time his face lit up with understanding "Ja!" Ok, "Ich gehe oben und kaufe etwas--bleib hier und warte auf mich." I'll go upstairs and buy something--stay here and wait for me. I gathered up my stuff and set off. I went up stairs and looked around frantically for someplace, any place that sold food. I only had 15 minutes or so before the train would be there. I scrambled around, and finally saw a little store that looked like a snack shop. It wasn't much, but it would have to do. I walked in and my heart sank. All they had were chips and other snacky things--nothing of real substance. I made my way to the back of the store, and then I hit the jackpot. There in a tiny little fridge, they had pre-made deli sandwiches! I grabbed the largest one and a bottle of ginger ale, paid, and ran back down the hallway, down the escalator, and onto the platform. There he was, waiting for me, standing up looking up and down the platform! I gave him the food, and was nearly blinded by the smile he flashed me. Our train arrived, and I said goodbye.
That was the highpoint of my trip. After walking around a city of light, visiting posh theaters and eating a meal that cost what would feed a family in Africa for a month or more, I was so blessed to spend 4 € to buy a poor Russian man lunch in broken German.
All in all, the trip was really cool, and I am glad I went. I am glad to be back in Marburg though, where life isn’t so hectic, and where ich kenne meine Stadt.
And yet I'm so glad to be back in little ol' Marburg…
But Wien was marvelous on many levels. I wish I had more time to get to know the city, because I feel like I only got the bare scraping of a glance during my 4 days there. The city reminds me of a sort of modern Gondor, with stately white stone architecture, high domes dedicated to art and history, and long tree-lined pathways. Why anyone needs a car in Vienna is beyond me--the public transportation system is incredible. Subways, Taxis, and Trollies make navigating the city a cinch. Vienna is an unbelievably clean city. Marburg puts most US cities to shame, and Vienna makes Marburg look like inner city Philadelphia. Now to the actual trip!
On Monday evening , after several hours of riding trains, plains, and subways, we arrived at our hotel. It was really nice. That evening, we ate out at a "typisch" restaurant and I had my first Wiener Schnitzel! It was delicious, especially with some lemon juice on it...mmm...
The next morning we got up and ate a delicious continental breakfast, and then headed off on a tour of the city. Our tour guide, Wolfgang Höfler, was awesome, and had a sweet Wienerisch accent. He was really knowledgeable about the city, and I wished for the umpteenth time that I was fluent in German, so that I could understand more. He took us all around to the little nooks and crannies that I would have never found on my own, but which were still incredible, like two of the houses that Mozart lived in! The only downside to the tour other than my linguistic incompetence was the fact that it was freezing and snowing the whole time. Due to our just sub-frostbitten condition, after the tour we made a bee-line for somewhere warm where we could eat lunch. We found a really nice Pizzeria, where I spent more money on Pizza than I ever have in my life. Still, I was warm, and for that, I gladly paid my 9 € and tried not to think about the exchange rate.
That afternoon we went to the IAEA center, which is the International Atomic Energy Agency. the IAEA tries to regulate the use of atomic energy, and to ensure that it is used for peaceful means only. Obviously this isn’t the reality, and many countries (the US included) still insist on the production or possession of Nuclear weapons. We learned about what the IAEA is trying to do, and also a little about the UN, and how people are working towards a global nuclear disarming. It was encouraging and also a little depressing, since there are so many countries that refuse to disarm—the USA included.
After the tour, we went to the Prater, which is the giant Ferris wheel in Vienna. It was pretty impressive, but as I got into the car, I looked behind us at the sky and was a little uneasy…
It turns out I had a good reason to be uneasy. About halfway up the circle (we were moving v e r y s l o w l y) we heard a huge crash of thunder, and then lightning! “Great,” I thought, “what a way to go: electrocuted on a world-famous Ferris wheel…” It was definitely scary, especially when it started to snow. What?! Snow?! During a thunderstorm?! Apparently the weather decided that Thunder and lightning really wasn’t apropos for March, and so almost instantaneously switched to gale-force winds and more snow than I have seen since I visited up-state New York in January. This wasn’t your regular snowstorm, it was a blizzard, and we were smack in the middle of it, 200 ft in the air. I wasn’t actually worried until snow started blowing in through the windows and door—all of which were closed.
In any case though, we arrived back on the ground safe and sound, and all the better for having had the adventure. We all assured Herr Riggs that we wouldn’t sue him, or blog about the experience thereby making our parents and loved ones hysterical thinking that we were in the hands of a mad program director who was in the habit of taking his pupils out into the heinous elements of mother nature on PMS.
oh wait…oops. Well, I still won’t sue him.
The next day was Wednesday, and we were off to the Schloss Schönbrunn. It was really impressive, actually, and very palace-y and incredible. There were endless art galleries, which was really neat. The only problem was that I took too long, and thought that the rest of the group left me behind. in a panic I rushed out of the Schloss, to see the distant backs of Alex, Amy, Ruth, Sharon, and Avdo. I hailed them in German, and they waited for me. After collecting Bridgette (who was behind me) we decided to try to visit the Tier Garten (zoo) that was right next door. After discovering that the Eintritt cost was 12 + €, we promptly changed our plans and went to the Palm Greenhouse across the way. The entrance fee was too much there as well, so we got on a Trolley and made our way to the Naschmarkt.
The Naschmarkt may well have been my favorite part of the trip. It was an open air market, with everything imaginable for sale. Well, as far as food went, that is. There was one category of non-edible merchandise, and the stalls just seemed to tessellate down the rows, until you were quite sure you’d seen the exact same stall 100 feet earlier. We bought huge pieces of bread for next to nothing, and some cheese fresh off the block to go with it. Then we made for a park and ate our simple meal in the sun. After our lunch, we were all very thrilled that we’d managed to have a meal in Vienna for only about 2.50 € each, so we went to an unbelievably expensive café to celebrate. Actually, it turned out it wasn’t unbelievably expensive, just regularly expensive. It was very posh though, and so I was amazed when the 4.20 € I spent on what I thought was a cup of tea turned out to be an entire pot. three cups of the good old Earl later, I was happy and content.
It was getting late, so we headed back to the hotel to dress for the theater. I am happy to be able to say I went to the theater in Wien, but in all honesty, I didn’t like the play much. It was a Freudian concept play about guilt, and where it comes from, and in the end the main characters were raped, murdered, and then committed suicide. The mechanics of the play—the acting and effects—were very well done, absolutely top-notch. The story was just blicky.
So afterwards, when we went out to eat, I got a huge dish of ice cream, which reminded me that there is more to life than Freud, guilt, and getting hit by trains. Ice cream is very effective therapy.
Thursday morning we traipsed off to the Schloss Belvedere. this was my favorite artsy place that we visited. It felt smaller, and there wasn’t as much art, but the art that was there was wonderful. I got to see some actual Rembrandt and even piece by Monet! It was much better than the Art History museum, which we visited directly afterwards.
The Kunsthistorisches Museum was actually very impressive. There was a lot of art in there. The building was also beautiful and old and made you think of places like the Library at Alexandria and whatnot. However, most of the art was of the same genre, and it was a genre that has always failed to capture the imagination in my case. Maybe I’m an uncultured barbarian, which is very possible, but after a while portraits of men in large wigs, nude women, and tortured souls being torn asunder all start to look the same after the 20th one or so. Alex Becker and I strolled around trying to be cultured for a while, and finally gave it up as a bad job. We did come to the conclusion however that if Art was any sort of reliable historical mirror, then one could safely assume that it was not the cultural norm for women to wear a shirt—or any clothes at all for that matter—until the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Skeptics may snort at this hypothesis, but I remain convinced. I have felt the nail-holes, so to speak, and believe.
After the Museum, a bunch of us went and pretended we were 8 years old. We bought amazing cheese-filled hot dogs at a street stand, and then ate them in a park, where we proceeded to play in a random sandbox, and then give each other piggy-back rides throughout the park. I was regrettably not a part of the piggy-backing, but it did afford me the most pleasurable task of observing the Viennese citizens’ reactions to two sets of grown adults on the shoulders of two other sets of equally grown adults.
We went to the Freud Museum at 3pm, and took a quick tour. I’d hoped that the museum might clear up the confusion of the Theater, but it didn’t, although I did get to sit on a bon a fide analysis couch. That was cool.
That evening, we went to dinner at the Ritziest place I’ve ever been in my life. It was a restaurant in the Donauturm, a hugely tall tower in Vienna, sort of the Eiffel of Wien. The restaurant actually rotated, so that during the course of your meal, you saw a 360-degree view of the city. It was beautiful. Thankfully, the tab was on BCA, because it ended up being a combined bill of around 280 €, which translates to about $35 a person. Eek.
the next day we had 6 hours or so before we had to leave to go home, so I spent the first 3 sleeping in and lazing around the hotel. Then Nicole, Alex, and I went out to the graveyard.
What? We’re in Vienna, and we go to a graveyard? Well, yes, actually. And it was lovely. Not only was it peaceful and a welcome change from the hustle and bustle of the past 4 days, we got to see some pretty incredible people’s resting places. Among other great composers, we saw Brahms, Schubert, and Mozart! Beethoven’s actual grave wasn’t there, but there was a memorial that was the exact replica of his real grave, so it was still pretty awesome.
On the way back, we had a 20 minute wait in the train station, waiting for our ride to the airport. I was exhausted from walking, so I sat down on the nearest bench. It turns out I'm glad I did, because the following interaction was the most significant part of my whole Wien experience. I sat down, and heard a wheezy voice at my ear. I looked up, and saw that the guy sitting next to me was looking a little worse for wear. After a few minutes of conversation, I'd ascertained that this fellow wasn't Austrian, or even German. He was Russian, and his German was worse than mine. He'd been stuck in the station for 3 days, because he couldn't afford a ticket or something, I didn't catch it exactly. At any rate, it was pretty clear that he was asking me for money. I almost told him no, like people always do to panderers in big cities. You never know if they are asking you for drug money or what, and so you just don't give them anything. But then I had an idea. I asked him if he was hungry. He didn't seem to understand, so I tried again. "Kann ich dir etwas zu essen kaufen?" Can I buy you something to eat? This time his face lit up with understanding "Ja!" Ok, "Ich gehe oben und kaufe etwas--bleib hier und warte auf mich." I'll go upstairs and buy something--stay here and wait for me. I gathered up my stuff and set off. I went up stairs and looked around frantically for someplace, any place that sold food. I only had 15 minutes or so before the train would be there. I scrambled around, and finally saw a little store that looked like a snack shop. It wasn't much, but it would have to do. I walked in and my heart sank. All they had were chips and other snacky things--nothing of real substance. I made my way to the back of the store, and then I hit the jackpot. There in a tiny little fridge, they had pre-made deli sandwiches! I grabbed the largest one and a bottle of ginger ale, paid, and ran back down the hallway, down the escalator, and onto the platform. There he was, waiting for me, standing up looking up and down the platform! I gave him the food, and was nearly blinded by the smile he flashed me. Our train arrived, and I said goodbye.
That was the highpoint of my trip. After walking around a city of light, visiting posh theaters and eating a meal that cost what would feed a family in Africa for a month or more, I was so blessed to spend 4 € to buy a poor Russian man lunch in broken German.
All in all, the trip was really cool, and I am glad I went. I am glad to be back in Marburg though, where life isn’t so hectic, and where ich kenne meine Stadt.
24.3.08
"Er ist wahrhaftig auferstanden!" or, "Nach Wien!"
In about 2 hours, I will be boarding a train that will take me to Frankfurt, where I will board a plane that will carry me through the atmosphere to Vienna!
Needless to say, I am rather begeistert. Obviously though, since I am not there yet, I have very little actual writing to do as of yet. So, forward to yesterday!
"Er ist auferstanden!" "Er ist wahrhaftig auferstanden!"
He is Risen! He ist Risen indeed!
Easter morning, I was woken up by a banging on my door. It was 6:35 am; 5 minutes after our Sunrise service was supposed to start. I threw jeans over the plaid sleepwear, and booked it out the door.
It was snowing! The five of us--Nicole, Ali, Kelsey, Alex, and I--huddled together as we read the Crucifixion from Mark. Then we sang When I survey the wondrous cross. Then we read the Resurrection account from Luke, and sang Christ the Lord is Risen Today! We prayed, and then went inside to make pancakes.
at 9am, we headed across town to Christus-Treff. We wanted to get there early because we wanted to make sure we got seats, since it was Easter Sunday and we weren't sure how many people would be there. Now I want to go early every Sunday, because we were able to help set things up, which was really neat. I felt more connected than I have, and I think it would be a good way to get to know people there in a less intimidating atmosphere.
Gottesdienst was beautiful. Once everyone came in, the blinds were pulled over the windows, and the lights were turned off, except for a spotlight shining on a small, stone tomb that had been built on the stage. The pastor was not up front, but rather back behind, out of sight. He began to read (in German) "Early, on the first day of the week..." and continued to the part where the angel says, "Er ist nicht mehr hier, denn er ist auferstanden, wie er gesagt hat!" I got chills just hearing that. Then a candle was lit in the tomb, and the candles which we had received coming in were lit as the fire from the tomb was passed along the rows of chairs. Then we sang some beautiful German Easter hymns a cappella. It was so haunting, and beautiful, sitting in the candle light, singing medieval-sounding German hymns. It was amazing.
There was a short, 15 minutes message, which was equally incredible for its stark, raw truth: Jesus is alive, he has conquered death, he is still here, for he has risen! After that, we took communion in the Risen Lord, and we dispersed.
I was so incredibly blessed this Easter, and I am in awe of God's love. Last week was the hardest week I've had yet, missing home and everything included in that word, and all of the Easter traditions I'm used to. Being able to continue a tradition in our little sunrise service (ok, so it ended up being a snow-rise, but that's ok) was so wonderful, and then being blessed beyond belief by new traditions at Christus-Treff...We really do serve a risen Lord, who is not only risen at home, among people we know, and in traditions we are familiar with, he is also risen in a foreign land, in a language that is strange to my tongue, in traditions and people that are foreign to me.
Er ist wahrhaftig und ewig auferstanden!
begeistert - excited
Gottesdienst - Gottes: God's, Dienst: service
"Er ist nicht mehr hier, denn er ist auferstanden, wie er gesagt hat!" - "he is not here, for he is risen, just as he said!"
ewig - eternal(ly)
Needless to say, I am rather begeistert. Obviously though, since I am not there yet, I have very little actual writing to do as of yet. So, forward to yesterday!
"Er ist auferstanden!" "Er ist wahrhaftig auferstanden!"
He is Risen! He ist Risen indeed!
Easter morning, I was woken up by a banging on my door. It was 6:35 am; 5 minutes after our Sunrise service was supposed to start. I threw jeans over the plaid sleepwear, and booked it out the door.
It was snowing! The five of us--Nicole, Ali, Kelsey, Alex, and I--huddled together as we read the Crucifixion from Mark. Then we sang When I survey the wondrous cross. Then we read the Resurrection account from Luke, and sang Christ the Lord is Risen Today! We prayed, and then went inside to make pancakes.
at 9am, we headed across town to Christus-Treff. We wanted to get there early because we wanted to make sure we got seats, since it was Easter Sunday and we weren't sure how many people would be there. Now I want to go early every Sunday, because we were able to help set things up, which was really neat. I felt more connected than I have, and I think it would be a good way to get to know people there in a less intimidating atmosphere.
Gottesdienst was beautiful. Once everyone came in, the blinds were pulled over the windows, and the lights were turned off, except for a spotlight shining on a small, stone tomb that had been built on the stage. The pastor was not up front, but rather back behind, out of sight. He began to read (in German) "Early, on the first day of the week..." and continued to the part where the angel says, "Er ist nicht mehr hier, denn er ist auferstanden, wie er gesagt hat!" I got chills just hearing that. Then a candle was lit in the tomb, and the candles which we had received coming in were lit as the fire from the tomb was passed along the rows of chairs. Then we sang some beautiful German Easter hymns a cappella. It was so haunting, and beautiful, sitting in the candle light, singing medieval-sounding German hymns. It was amazing.
There was a short, 15 minutes message, which was equally incredible for its stark, raw truth: Jesus is alive, he has conquered death, he is still here, for he has risen! After that, we took communion in the Risen Lord, and we dispersed.
I was so incredibly blessed this Easter, and I am in awe of God's love. Last week was the hardest week I've had yet, missing home and everything included in that word, and all of the Easter traditions I'm used to. Being able to continue a tradition in our little sunrise service (ok, so it ended up being a snow-rise, but that's ok) was so wonderful, and then being blessed beyond belief by new traditions at Christus-Treff...We really do serve a risen Lord, who is not only risen at home, among people we know, and in traditions we are familiar with, he is also risen in a foreign land, in a language that is strange to my tongue, in traditions and people that are foreign to me.
Er ist wahrhaftig und ewig auferstanden!
begeistert - excited
Gottesdienst - Gottes: God's, Dienst: service
"Er ist nicht mehr hier, denn er ist auferstanden, wie er gesagt hat!" - "he is not here, for he is risen, just as he said!"
ewig - eternal(ly)
22.3.08
Saint Patricks day, followed by no more Sprachkurs
Wow, so life seems to be moving slowly, but also ridiculously fast. It seems to be moving slowly, because I haven't felt like I've had a lot to write about, and now, only 5 days later, I feel so behind in this blog!
I'll start with St Patrick's Day, since that is when I last posted, even though I didn't say anything about St. Patrick's day then.
On St. Patrick's Day, I went with Patrick and some other BCAers to the only Irish Pub in Marburg. Apparently it's exclusivity made it a big deal on the 17th of March, because when we got there, we were informed that it was 5 € for "Eintritt"--admission. That was way too expensive for me, so I was going to leave, but then one of the others said they would pay for me, and so rather than critiquing the equine mandibula, I accepted and trat ein.
It was a tiny pub, and it was crammed to the gills. We made our way to the back and managed to grab the only two free seats in the whole pub. there were 7 of us. we took turns.
It was actually a really fun night. I'm definitely not a bar person, but a tiny little pub with good live music is pretty cool. There was a group there from Ireland, and they sung lots of folk and drinking songs, and I even employed my rusty Irish Step skills and got a big round of applause from everyone in the vicinity! I also drank the first good beer I've had in Germany--and it wasn't even German: Guinness. It was the only one I've tasted so far that didn't make my taste buds riot in the streets. I don't think I'll be drinking much though, maybe a beer once a month or something--it was expensive. At 3,70 €, Guinness might be good, but it's also half a day's food money for me!
If you want to see Pictures, follow this leprechaun:
In other Nachricht, my language course is over. We had our exam on Wednesday, and then Thursday just had a big breakfast together in class. It was very enjoyable, and a little sad. I wasn't sad about my grades though--I got a 1,0 on the exam, and also in the course overall. The European grading system is a little weird, but 1,0 translates to an 'A'. Now if I just continue this trend into the real Universitäts semester, which begins on March 31.
Until then, I am celebrating Easter as best I can away from home and it's traditions, and on Monday, we go to Vienna for 5 days, which should be really incredible.
This past week has especially been really difficult as far as homesickness is concerned. Tuesday was an all-time high, as it really began to dawn on me that I would be missing Easter with my family, and then on top of that I missed being able to talk to my girlfriend, who was calling from Costa Rica, because I had the time zones confused. Wednesday was much better, and I even got a package from home full of letters, a Dr. Seuss t-shirt, and a plethora of art from the hand of my 4-year-old sister. God is so good!
So despite my Heimweh, I am excited about tomorrow and celebrating the most incredible, important event that ever took place on this earth, and the participating in the joy of creation in the promise of redemption!
Frohe Ostern! Gott segne euch!
equine mandibula - horse's mouth ( this isn't german!)
trat ein - went in
Nachricht - news
Heimweh - longing for home, homesickness
Frohe Ostern! - Happy Easter!
Gott segne euch! - God bless you!
I'll start with St Patrick's Day, since that is when I last posted, even though I didn't say anything about St. Patrick's day then.
On St. Patrick's Day, I went with Patrick and some other BCAers to the only Irish Pub in Marburg. Apparently it's exclusivity made it a big deal on the 17th of March, because when we got there, we were informed that it was 5 € for "Eintritt"--admission. That was way too expensive for me, so I was going to leave, but then one of the others said they would pay for me, and so rather than critiquing the equine mandibula, I accepted and trat ein.
It was a tiny pub, and it was crammed to the gills. We made our way to the back and managed to grab the only two free seats in the whole pub. there were 7 of us. we took turns.
It was actually a really fun night. I'm definitely not a bar person, but a tiny little pub with good live music is pretty cool. There was a group there from Ireland, and they sung lots of folk and drinking songs, and I even employed my rusty Irish Step skills and got a big round of applause from everyone in the vicinity! I also drank the first good beer I've had in Germany--and it wasn't even German: Guinness. It was the only one I've tasted so far that didn't make my taste buds riot in the streets. I don't think I'll be drinking much though, maybe a beer once a month or something--it was expensive. At 3,70 €, Guinness might be good, but it's also half a day's food money for me!
If you want to see Pictures, follow this leprechaun:
In other Nachricht, my language course is over. We had our exam on Wednesday, and then Thursday just had a big breakfast together in class. It was very enjoyable, and a little sad. I wasn't sad about my grades though--I got a 1,0 on the exam, and also in the course overall. The European grading system is a little weird, but 1,0 translates to an 'A'. Now if I just continue this trend into the real Universitäts semester, which begins on March 31.
Until then, I am celebrating Easter as best I can away from home and it's traditions, and on Monday, we go to Vienna for 5 days, which should be really incredible.
This past week has especially been really difficult as far as homesickness is concerned. Tuesday was an all-time high, as it really began to dawn on me that I would be missing Easter with my family, and then on top of that I missed being able to talk to my girlfriend, who was calling from Costa Rica, because I had the time zones confused. Wednesday was much better, and I even got a package from home full of letters, a Dr. Seuss t-shirt, and a plethora of art from the hand of my 4-year-old sister. God is so good!
So despite my Heimweh, I am excited about tomorrow and celebrating the most incredible, important event that ever took place on this earth, and the participating in the joy of creation in the promise of redemption!
Frohe Ostern! Gott segne euch!
equine mandibula - horse's mouth ( this isn't german!)
trat ein - went in
Nachricht - news
Heimweh - longing for home, homesickness
Frohe Ostern! - Happy Easter!
Gott segne euch! - God bless you!
17.3.08
Linguacide
I realized it has been a long time since I've updated this blog, and so I thought I would schreib a few lines.
The trip to Kassel was very fun (there are pictures posted if you want to see them!), and I enjoyed it thoroughly. I'm convince that if we'd lived at the same time, I would have been good friends with Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm. They were linguaphiles and fairytale nerds, and were dedicated to preserving culture. The world needs more grimm people (no pun intended).
Speaking of preserving culture, in our Sprachkurs last week we did a mini-unit on the overwhelming influence of English on German. Contrary to the beliefs of bitter German 101 students, a huge chunk of accepted German vocabulary is pulled straight out of the English language.
Some of this is understandable; things like company names and such needn't be translated, and no one but the Wise Guys is advocating for a "Kleinweich*" branch of Microsoft in Germany (though that may be because nobody would want to use "Fenstern**" anyway--they'd be better off with an "Apfel***"). But there are lots of things that have a legitimate German name, that people just call by the English, because it is "trendy." Despite the US's plummeting economy, we are still the Business Nation, and all of capitalism still kneels and prays with with it's face towards Lady Liberty and the holy land of commerce.
When you get into an Auto in germany, you fasten your Seatbelt. Many people go "shoppen," instead of the german "einkaufen." There are millions of Coffeeshops, but I have yet to see a "Kaffeehaus." There are a million more examples.
Now before you start thinking that I'm just a grumpy purist, let me put it this way: The Highway Administration had to reevaluate their information policy a little while back, because there were so many anglicized words on the tickets and things that elderly Germans or people who didn't have any English background couldn't understand it without help.
Not to be blunt, but what the heck? That's ridiculous. Give it another 100 years, and watch the German language disappear. How many other languages are becoming victims, I wonder?
The end of this rant is a harangue: don't participate in linguicide--learn a foreign language, and learn it for real. Don't just sit on your monolingual throne and expect everyone to learn English, or worse, turn their language INTO English! The French get a bad rap for being snobby about protecting their language, but maybe they're not just snobs--maybe they see the writing on the wall...
*"Kleinweich" klein - small, weich - soft
**Fenstern - windows
***Apfel - apple
http://dict.tu-chemnitz.de/dings.cgi?lang=en;service=deen
The trip to Kassel was very fun (there are pictures posted if you want to see them!), and I enjoyed it thoroughly. I'm convince that if we'd lived at the same time, I would have been good friends with Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm. They were linguaphiles and fairytale nerds, and were dedicated to preserving culture. The world needs more grimm people (no pun intended).
Speaking of preserving culture, in our Sprachkurs last week we did a mini-unit on the overwhelming influence of English on German. Contrary to the beliefs of bitter German 101 students, a huge chunk of accepted German vocabulary is pulled straight out of the English language.
Some of this is understandable; things like company names and such needn't be translated, and no one but the Wise Guys is advocating for a "Kleinweich*" branch of Microsoft in Germany (though that may be because nobody would want to use "Fenstern**" anyway--they'd be better off with an "Apfel***"). But there are lots of things that have a legitimate German name, that people just call by the English, because it is "trendy." Despite the US's plummeting economy, we are still the Business Nation, and all of capitalism still kneels and prays with with it's face towards Lady Liberty and the holy land of commerce.
When you get into an Auto in germany, you fasten your Seatbelt. Many people go "shoppen," instead of the german "einkaufen." There are millions of Coffeeshops, but I have yet to see a "Kaffeehaus." There are a million more examples.
Now before you start thinking that I'm just a grumpy purist, let me put it this way: The Highway Administration had to reevaluate their information policy a little while back, because there were so many anglicized words on the tickets and things that elderly Germans or people who didn't have any English background couldn't understand it without help.
Not to be blunt, but what the heck? That's ridiculous. Give it another 100 years, and watch the German language disappear. How many other languages are becoming victims, I wonder?
The end of this rant is a harangue: don't participate in linguicide--learn a foreign language, and learn it for real. Don't just sit on your monolingual throne and expect everyone to learn English, or worse, turn their language INTO English! The French get a bad rap for being snobby about protecting their language, but maybe they're not just snobs--maybe they see the writing on the wall...
*"Kleinweich" klein - small, weich - soft
**Fenstern - windows
***Apfel - apple
http://dict.tu-chemnitz.de/dings.cgi?lang=en;service=deen
11.3.08
"All the Americans only speak English, well, except for Nicole and Josiah..."
The title of this post is a direct quote, translated from it's original German, by Françoir, my Belgian classmate. It was probably the highest compliment he could have paid me, and was confirmation that my efforts to connect with the other international students--and avoid cloisterment with Americans--is paying off. Needless to say, Nicole and I had to try very hard not to do victory dances as we left the Sprachenzentrum today! :)
Another compliment was given when I had Nicole and Ali over for dinner, and Matthias and Elena were also making dinner. We Americans talked to each other auf Deutsch the whole time, evening navigating the dificulties of cooking in a foreign language. Matthias and Elena were very impressed, and showered praise on us for speaking German even amongst ourselves. I also had an in depth discussion with Elena about mushrooms, and secured the promise of a taste testing when hers (which she is growing in a little mushroom garden in her room) finally sprout. woo hoo!
All and all, a success-filled day. It ended with me finally getting internet in my room, which means my life will be much easier (as soon as I get used to this English keyboard again) and YOU, my dear readers, will have more pictures!
But now it is getting late. We are leaving at 8:50 tomorrow morning to go to Kassel, the home place of the Brüder Grimm, where we will see lots of amazing sites, and even get to hear some Grimm fairytales from a bonafide story teller!
hopefully, my batteries will allow me to take copious amounts of digital documentation, which I will in turn be able to share with you.
Tschau!
Another compliment was given when I had Nicole and Ali over for dinner, and Matthias and Elena were also making dinner. We Americans talked to each other auf Deutsch the whole time, evening navigating the dificulties of cooking in a foreign language. Matthias and Elena were very impressed, and showered praise on us for speaking German even amongst ourselves. I also had an in depth discussion with Elena about mushrooms, and secured the promise of a taste testing when hers (which she is growing in a little mushroom garden in her room) finally sprout. woo hoo!
All and all, a success-filled day. It ended with me finally getting internet in my room, which means my life will be much easier (as soon as I get used to this English keyboard again) and YOU, my dear readers, will have more pictures!
But now it is getting late. We are leaving at 8:50 tomorrow morning to go to Kassel, the home place of the Brüder Grimm, where we will see lots of amazing sites, and even get to hear some Grimm fairytales from a bonafide story teller!
hopefully, my batteries will allow me to take copious amounts of digital documentation, which I will in turn be able to share with you.
Tschau!
10.3.08
'In the mud and the muck' or, 'My soul is troubled to the point of death'
I would like to write a special, public thank-you to Kathryn Fulton, whose letters and emails have been a constant wake-up call to me as I try to make sense of true discipleship to Christ in an atmosphere that is dominated by the intellectualized spiritual lethargy of modern university life.
This Sunday's Christus-Treff was amazing. It was the first Sunday I went by myself. Kelsey Yoncha is off in Italy with her family, and Nicole and Ali were visiting friends in Strasbourg, France. So it was me on my lonesome, but it was one of the best services I've been to yet here.
Worship was, as always, incredible, and then we broke up into small groups of 4 or 5 to pray for Afghanistan. It was the first time I ever got up the nerve to try praying in German, and I only said a short sentence, but it was really awesome to be able to pray with fellow believers in a different language. Even more incredible was listening to the prayers of the other people in my group, and understanding most of what they prayed, and realizing so concretely that God hears his people praying all around the world, in every tongue and every land. Unglaublich, unbegreiflich.
The message was all about the problem of pain: why it exists, how we deal with it as Christians, usw.* First of all, my comprehension level was running high at somewhere near 95%, which was of course exciting. But more important was the message itself. The problem with Pain is that we can intellectualize it, and philosophize and 'theologize' and add as many -ize words as we want, but when it comes down to the real, mucky, 'God! where are you? My soul is troubled to the point of death' kind of stuff, all of that theory--as true as it might even be--falls to dust, and we are left alone, hurting, with only God, and no concepts or theories. Where does Christ fit into a world so full of real pain? How does one reconcile such existence with an all-loving, all-powerful God?
Look at the example of Jesus. His life was just as full of pain as any existence we can imagine. In Christ, we see in the Garden of Gethsemane, God himself, in human form, cries out to the Father saying 'my soul is troubled to the point of death! God, where are you?'
When we decide to submit our lives to Christ, to follow him, we do not sign up for a life of happiness and sunshine. that doesn't mean that happiness and sunshine are completely MIA, but it does mean that when things become hard, terrible, even unbearably so, that something has gone awry, and God has disappeared. Quite the contrary. He is in fact, perhaps more present than ever. Jesus Christ is not some Fairy godmother, who waves his magic wand, turning the pumpkins in our lives into dazzling stagecoaches. He stoops down, the creator of the universe, of stars and planets, he kneels down in the mud and the muck and the pain, and when we cry 'Where are you, God?' he answers, 'right beside you, where I've been all along.'
As Christians then, as little Christs, what are we to do in a world so full of pain? We should go out into it, kneel down in the mud and the muck with those who are in pain, and with the hands of Christ, embrace them.
This blog entry is dedicated to the people I see on the street, passing me by, living lives of quiet desperation.
*German 'etc'
This Sunday's Christus-Treff was amazing. It was the first Sunday I went by myself. Kelsey Yoncha is off in Italy with her family, and Nicole and Ali were visiting friends in Strasbourg, France. So it was me on my lonesome, but it was one of the best services I've been to yet here.
Worship was, as always, incredible, and then we broke up into small groups of 4 or 5 to pray for Afghanistan. It was the first time I ever got up the nerve to try praying in German, and I only said a short sentence, but it was really awesome to be able to pray with fellow believers in a different language. Even more incredible was listening to the prayers of the other people in my group, and understanding most of what they prayed, and realizing so concretely that God hears his people praying all around the world, in every tongue and every land. Unglaublich, unbegreiflich.
The message was all about the problem of pain: why it exists, how we deal with it as Christians, usw.* First of all, my comprehension level was running high at somewhere near 95%, which was of course exciting. But more important was the message itself. The problem with Pain is that we can intellectualize it, and philosophize and 'theologize' and add as many -ize words as we want, but when it comes down to the real, mucky, 'God! where are you? My soul is troubled to the point of death' kind of stuff, all of that theory--as true as it might even be--falls to dust, and we are left alone, hurting, with only God, and no concepts or theories. Where does Christ fit into a world so full of real pain? How does one reconcile such existence with an all-loving, all-powerful God?
Look at the example of Jesus. His life was just as full of pain as any existence we can imagine. In Christ, we see in the Garden of Gethsemane, God himself, in human form, cries out to the Father saying 'my soul is troubled to the point of death! God, where are you?'
When we decide to submit our lives to Christ, to follow him, we do not sign up for a life of happiness and sunshine. that doesn't mean that happiness and sunshine are completely MIA, but it does mean that when things become hard, terrible, even unbearably so, that something has gone awry, and God has disappeared. Quite the contrary. He is in fact, perhaps more present than ever. Jesus Christ is not some Fairy godmother, who waves his magic wand, turning the pumpkins in our lives into dazzling stagecoaches. He stoops down, the creator of the universe, of stars and planets, he kneels down in the mud and the muck and the pain, and when we cry 'Where are you, God?' he answers, 'right beside you, where I've been all along.'
As Christians then, as little Christs, what are we to do in a world so full of pain? We should go out into it, kneel down in the mud and the muck with those who are in pain, and with the hands of Christ, embrace them.
This blog entry is dedicated to the people I see on the street, passing me by, living lives of quiet desperation.
*German 'etc'
9.3.08
In which I empathize with a greek philosopher and continue to dislike beer
As I begin to write this post, I cannot help but feel that it may be unwise. I know many people are reading this, and it is even being posted on the Epicenter's website. Therefore, I would like to post a disclaimer.
Disclaimer 1: The views expressed in this blog are not necessarily those of Messiah College, it's staff, or it affiliates.
Disclaimer 2: The views expressed by persons mentioned in this blog are not necessarily those of the author.
Now we can proceed.
On this most recent of Saturdays, I was walking back to my room, from the computer room, and my previous post, as it were. It is important to this story and many others to come that you know the geography of my room, as it pertains to the rest of the building. My room is right off of the kitchen on the 2nd floor (that's the 3rd floor, for those of you not familiar with European structural concepts). When I say off of, I really mean through, because the kitchen is on the far left side of the building, and one must go through it to get to my room.
Because of this location, I often meet people eating, preparing food, or cleaning up (only they aren't actually cleaning up, because no one does that here) as I exit or enter my room. It was just such an occasion yesterday afternoon, and I opened the ol' Tür der Küche to find my warm kitchen acquaintance, Mattheus, and his friend from America, whom I had met that morning. They were enjoying some beer and had a big bowl of peanuts and a big bowl of pistachios to pass the time. Mattheus really is a nice chap, and he has been very helpful in answering the plethora of questions I have had as a newbie here in Schloß 4. Just last week, I had an amazing conversation with him that lasted for about 30 minutes, about how the horrible events of WW II still cast their shadow on German people today. But I digress.
Wanting to be sociable, and to avoid the temptation to hide in my room until I magically become fluent in German, I sat down. The first thing they did of course, was to offer me some beer. Now, this is very natural, and probably the default greeting in Germany. You see someone you know, and they are sitting at a table. This means they almost certainly have beer, and they are almost certainly going to offer you some. Mattheus knows I don't like beer very much, beer having cropped up in our second conversation ever held together. He is naturally nonplussed at my dislike, and I think has taken it upon himself to find a beer that I will like, or to help me acquire a taste for the ones he likes.
So he offered me some beer, and I, trying to be grateful and fit in to German culture, said, 'sure, but just a little bit. I got a small glass out of the cupboard, and sat down. Thank God I got a small glass...
Apparently Mattheus's concept of a 'little bit of beer' and mine are worlds apart. I was looking for a tablespoon or two, and what I got was more along the lines of the last bit of Psalm 23. I took a sip before my cup could runneth over, and had to swallow my grimace with the bitter liquid. I just can't understand the attraction to something that tastes like rotting rainwater. 'That's not too bad, I like it more than some other beers.' I said, quite truthfully. I stared unhappily at the glass, still most of the way full. It was only about 1 cup of beer, but it was foul. Still, I'm a pretty stoic chap, and known for my durable pallet besides, so I began the unpleasant task of draining my cup to the bitter dregs.
It was a very small glass of beer; I could have done it quite easily, and held no hard feelings towards Mattheus or his friend. Alas for the might-have-beens!
I took another sip, eyed the glass, and calculated that I had already drunken about a fourth. This heartened me, but before I could buckle down again, Mattheus's blasted friend reached over and filled my cup back up! I would like to highlight that it was the American who did it first, because I don't think this practice of refilling glasses before they are empty is necessarily a German one. This point makes the entire thing a little harder to forgive, however. I settled back in my chair miserably. It had to be done. I took a generous handful of peanuts, in hopes that a strong thirst might make the beer a little less revolting. 2 handfuls of peanuts and another of pistachios later, I was almost done. I had a little more than a quarter of the glass left, about three more large sips. Freedom was nearly mine!
I've often noticed in life that one is best occupied expecting the worst. I have been accused for being a bitter, hopeless wretch, which is not quite fair, I think. There is a marked difference between utter despair and a healthy acknowledgement of the dependability of Murphy's Law. However, even the most level headed person can be caught off guard when pending salvation seems so near at hand...
Mattheus reached for the bottle. 'Would you like some more?' he asked. Horrified, I stammered 'nein! das ist gut!' but he must have mistaken my vehement negation for excitement, and proceeded to fill my glass to the brim.
the rest is, if not history, something very akin to it.
Socrates don't have nothin' on me.
Fin
Epilogue
Because there is a God and heaven, and he is all-powerful and all good, my glass ceased its imitation of Elijah's endless oil jar and I was able to retire to my room with a nasty stomach ache and dark oaths that I would break the bottle over the head of the next wretch who offers me beer.
Disclaimer 1: The views expressed in this blog are not necessarily those of Messiah College, it's staff, or it affiliates.
Disclaimer 2: The views expressed by persons mentioned in this blog are not necessarily those of the author.
Now we can proceed.
On this most recent of Saturdays, I was walking back to my room, from the computer room, and my previous post, as it were. It is important to this story and many others to come that you know the geography of my room, as it pertains to the rest of the building. My room is right off of the kitchen on the 2nd floor (that's the 3rd floor, for those of you not familiar with European structural concepts). When I say off of, I really mean through, because the kitchen is on the far left side of the building, and one must go through it to get to my room.
Because of this location, I often meet people eating, preparing food, or cleaning up (only they aren't actually cleaning up, because no one does that here) as I exit or enter my room. It was just such an occasion yesterday afternoon, and I opened the ol' Tür der Küche to find my warm kitchen acquaintance, Mattheus, and his friend from America, whom I had met that morning. They were enjoying some beer and had a big bowl of peanuts and a big bowl of pistachios to pass the time. Mattheus really is a nice chap, and he has been very helpful in answering the plethora of questions I have had as a newbie here in Schloß 4. Just last week, I had an amazing conversation with him that lasted for about 30 minutes, about how the horrible events of WW II still cast their shadow on German people today. But I digress.
Wanting to be sociable, and to avoid the temptation to hide in my room until I magically become fluent in German, I sat down. The first thing they did of course, was to offer me some beer. Now, this is very natural, and probably the default greeting in Germany. You see someone you know, and they are sitting at a table. This means they almost certainly have beer, and they are almost certainly going to offer you some. Mattheus knows I don't like beer very much, beer having cropped up in our second conversation ever held together. He is naturally nonplussed at my dislike, and I think has taken it upon himself to find a beer that I will like, or to help me acquire a taste for the ones he likes.
So he offered me some beer, and I, trying to be grateful and fit in to German culture, said, 'sure, but just a little bit. I got a small glass out of the cupboard, and sat down. Thank God I got a small glass...
Apparently Mattheus's concept of a 'little bit of beer' and mine are worlds apart. I was looking for a tablespoon or two, and what I got was more along the lines of the last bit of Psalm 23. I took a sip before my cup could runneth over, and had to swallow my grimace with the bitter liquid. I just can't understand the attraction to something that tastes like rotting rainwater. 'That's not too bad, I like it more than some other beers.' I said, quite truthfully. I stared unhappily at the glass, still most of the way full. It was only about 1 cup of beer, but it was foul. Still, I'm a pretty stoic chap, and known for my durable pallet besides, so I began the unpleasant task of draining my cup to the bitter dregs.
It was a very small glass of beer; I could have done it quite easily, and held no hard feelings towards Mattheus or his friend. Alas for the might-have-beens!
I took another sip, eyed the glass, and calculated that I had already drunken about a fourth. This heartened me, but before I could buckle down again, Mattheus's blasted friend reached over and filled my cup back up! I would like to highlight that it was the American who did it first, because I don't think this practice of refilling glasses before they are empty is necessarily a German one. This point makes the entire thing a little harder to forgive, however. I settled back in my chair miserably. It had to be done. I took a generous handful of peanuts, in hopes that a strong thirst might make the beer a little less revolting. 2 handfuls of peanuts and another of pistachios later, I was almost done. I had a little more than a quarter of the glass left, about three more large sips. Freedom was nearly mine!
I've often noticed in life that one is best occupied expecting the worst. I have been accused for being a bitter, hopeless wretch, which is not quite fair, I think. There is a marked difference between utter despair and a healthy acknowledgement of the dependability of Murphy's Law. However, even the most level headed person can be caught off guard when pending salvation seems so near at hand...
Mattheus reached for the bottle. 'Would you like some more?' he asked. Horrified, I stammered 'nein! das ist gut!' but he must have mistaken my vehement negation for excitement, and proceeded to fill my glass to the brim.
the rest is, if not history, something very akin to it.
Socrates don't have nothin' on me.
Fin
Epilogue
Because there is a God and heaven, and he is all-powerful and all good, my glass ceased its imitation of Elijah's endless oil jar and I was able to retire to my room with a nasty stomach ache and dark oaths that I would break the bottle over the head of the next wretch who offers me beer.
8.3.08
Up the Wizard, down the Wizard, and other stories
Well, there is a lot to post about, so I'd best jump right in.
Yesterday was Friday, and so naturally amazing. At any rate, it couldn't help be better than thursday, and this is why: On thursday, I broke the shower on my foor. Now, it's true that in keeping with the stereotype that Germans never shower, probably no one missed it. But I still felt really bad, and kind of worried, since I wasn't sure who I needed to talk to about it, or how to explain in German that the shower head just snapped off in my hand when I tried to adjust it.
So that was worrisome. Luckily, I was able to ask Mattheus, an older Gent who lives next door to me, and with whom I have a warm, kitchen aquaintence (because I always see him and talk to him in the kitchen). He told me who I needed to talk to, and as luck would have it, not only did I already know the person, but I also knew that they were nice, and not scary to talk to..
So that night, I bumped into Jan as he was carrying some empty bottles to the recycling, and explained everything as best I could. Once he understood what I was trying to say, he though it was very funny, and told me not to worry.
Germans just don't really give a fig about showering, I guess.
End of Story.
Yesterday was Friday, which meant that I didn't have to get up until I woke up, at around 9:30. I made myself a delish breakfast of scrambled eggs and Orange juice, and then read Paradise Lost for a good 2 hours or so. Come to think of it, I didn't do much of anything yesterday before 4 pm...Still, it was lovely, and Paradise lost is definitely worth reading. It's pretty incredible.
In the late afternoon, I went to mail a letter to Costa Rica, and then attempted to find Lidl, the grocery store that is right next door to the Post office. I walked all over the whole block, and finally saw it, now on the opposite side of the street, across several lanes of traffic. I went to Aldi instead.
On my way home, I ran into Johanna, Bridgett, and Gina from the BCA Group, who were showing around a friend who was visiting. I gave them a tour of the castle grounds, and then let them use the Schloß computer to figure out some travelling logistics.
Meanwhile, I made myself an incredible sandwich and ate it in the kitchen with Christien and Sarah, two of my floor-mates. This was one of the high points of the day, because not only did I add two more names to my list of those I know, but I had a very enjoyable conversation with them both, in German, and understood it all. Sarah wanted to know why an American was majoring in German, and what I intended to do with it. I tried to explain that it just interested me, and Christien seemed to understand. Sarah was still a little baffeled, but it was a great conversation, nontheless.
Then the motley crew trooped back into the kitchen, and after securing Kelsey, we all went to dinner at Paprika, a really nice pub in the Oberstadt. Since I'd already eaten dinner, I meant to just get a little something to nibble and a drink. I ordered my Ginger Ale (which randomely came with a lemon in it), and then what I thought was a small baguettish thing. It ended up being a very large baguettish thing, complete with a side salad. I was pretty full by the end. During the meal, Johanna and I talked back and forth in German about learning German, and what not. it was very enjoyable, and I even tasted an ok beer. It was actually pretty good, compared with the other beer I've tried here.
We left Paprika, and Kelsey and I went back to the Castle. We tried to find Fei, and awesome chinese student who is also studying here. We wanted to watch 'Ella enchanted' in German, but when we found Fei, he was playing a card game with Jan and another guy whose name escapes me. We sat down to watch, and they explained the rules and dealt us out. I wasn't sure exactly WHAT the rules were, until I watched one round, and realized that the game was essentially Up the River, Down the River with different cards. Since this is one of my favorite card games of all time, I was very excited. The evening past pleasently, and I even learned some new vocabulary. All in all, Friday was a good day for speaking German.
Today is Saturday, and I repeated the first couple hours of Friday. That is, I woke up, showered, ate, and read Paradise Lost. Then I proceeded to wash some of my clothes, and then do something about the mess that was my room. I belive I have stated before that German's are not clean. I would like to stress once more that the building in which I live is absolutely, appallingly filthy. I wiped down everything with bathroom cleaner, and then proceeded to try and clean the floor. Despite the highly evolved dust bunnies (seriously, if I would have left it go a week longer, those things may have grown fangs and eyeballs) I managed to sweep and vacuum the room, and then I mopped it. I think it was cleaner than it's ever been, and I only took of the first layer of grim that has been ground into the floor. I realized while mopping that what I thought was artistic texturing on the linoleum was actually just centuries of dirt, ground down in swirly patterns. The water was black when I'd finished.
So now, I'm just hanging out in my cleaner room (I hesitate to call it clean, it may never be truly so), waiting for the computer guy to come and help me hook up my laptop to the internet, so that I can blog from the warmth of my room, instead of venturing into the freezing tundra that is the community Computer room.
Bis später!
Yesterday was Friday, and so naturally amazing. At any rate, it couldn't help be better than thursday, and this is why: On thursday, I broke the shower on my foor. Now, it's true that in keeping with the stereotype that Germans never shower, probably no one missed it. But I still felt really bad, and kind of worried, since I wasn't sure who I needed to talk to about it, or how to explain in German that the shower head just snapped off in my hand when I tried to adjust it.
So that was worrisome. Luckily, I was able to ask Mattheus, an older Gent who lives next door to me, and with whom I have a warm, kitchen aquaintence (because I always see him and talk to him in the kitchen). He told me who I needed to talk to, and as luck would have it, not only did I already know the person, but I also knew that they were nice, and not scary to talk to..
So that night, I bumped into Jan as he was carrying some empty bottles to the recycling, and explained everything as best I could. Once he understood what I was trying to say, he though it was very funny, and told me not to worry.
Germans just don't really give a fig about showering, I guess.
End of Story.
Yesterday was Friday, which meant that I didn't have to get up until I woke up, at around 9:30. I made myself a delish breakfast of scrambled eggs and Orange juice, and then read Paradise Lost for a good 2 hours or so. Come to think of it, I didn't do much of anything yesterday before 4 pm...Still, it was lovely, and Paradise lost is definitely worth reading. It's pretty incredible.
In the late afternoon, I went to mail a letter to Costa Rica, and then attempted to find Lidl, the grocery store that is right next door to the Post office. I walked all over the whole block, and finally saw it, now on the opposite side of the street, across several lanes of traffic. I went to Aldi instead.
On my way home, I ran into Johanna, Bridgett, and Gina from the BCA Group, who were showing around a friend who was visiting. I gave them a tour of the castle grounds, and then let them use the Schloß computer to figure out some travelling logistics.
Meanwhile, I made myself an incredible sandwich and ate it in the kitchen with Christien and Sarah, two of my floor-mates. This was one of the high points of the day, because not only did I add two more names to my list of those I know, but I had a very enjoyable conversation with them both, in German, and understood it all. Sarah wanted to know why an American was majoring in German, and what I intended to do with it. I tried to explain that it just interested me, and Christien seemed to understand. Sarah was still a little baffeled, but it was a great conversation, nontheless.
Then the motley crew trooped back into the kitchen, and after securing Kelsey, we all went to dinner at Paprika, a really nice pub in the Oberstadt. Since I'd already eaten dinner, I meant to just get a little something to nibble and a drink. I ordered my Ginger Ale (which randomely came with a lemon in it), and then what I thought was a small baguettish thing. It ended up being a very large baguettish thing, complete with a side salad. I was pretty full by the end. During the meal, Johanna and I talked back and forth in German about learning German, and what not. it was very enjoyable, and I even tasted an ok beer. It was actually pretty good, compared with the other beer I've tried here.
We left Paprika, and Kelsey and I went back to the Castle. We tried to find Fei, and awesome chinese student who is also studying here. We wanted to watch 'Ella enchanted' in German, but when we found Fei, he was playing a card game with Jan and another guy whose name escapes me. We sat down to watch, and they explained the rules and dealt us out. I wasn't sure exactly WHAT the rules were, until I watched one round, and realized that the game was essentially Up the River, Down the River with different cards. Since this is one of my favorite card games of all time, I was very excited. The evening past pleasently, and I even learned some new vocabulary. All in all, Friday was a good day for speaking German.
Today is Saturday, and I repeated the first couple hours of Friday. That is, I woke up, showered, ate, and read Paradise Lost. Then I proceeded to wash some of my clothes, and then do something about the mess that was my room. I belive I have stated before that German's are not clean. I would like to stress once more that the building in which I live is absolutely, appallingly filthy. I wiped down everything with bathroom cleaner, and then proceeded to try and clean the floor. Despite the highly evolved dust bunnies (seriously, if I would have left it go a week longer, those things may have grown fangs and eyeballs) I managed to sweep and vacuum the room, and then I mopped it. I think it was cleaner than it's ever been, and I only took of the first layer of grim that has been ground into the floor. I realized while mopping that what I thought was artistic texturing on the linoleum was actually just centuries of dirt, ground down in swirly patterns. The water was black when I'd finished.
So now, I'm just hanging out in my cleaner room (I hesitate to call it clean, it may never be truly so), waiting for the computer guy to come and help me hook up my laptop to the internet, so that I can blog from the warmth of my room, instead of venturing into the freezing tundra that is the community Computer room.
Bis später!
6.3.08
Part 6: in which I've had enough, drink my first glass of wine, and sleep much better for it.
I'd had enough.
We're well into the second week of our Sprachkurs, and the Americana in the class is congealing like you wouldn't believe. It was time to do something, and I did it.
But let me back up. First of all, about studying abroad. Obviously, I want to become fluent in German, and learn more about German culture, etc. Otherwise, I wouldn't have come to Germany. However, as far as generic study-abroad goals go, I also just wanted to get to know ANYONE from another country, whose mother tongue wasn't English.
Ideally, the Sprachkurs is the perfect place to do this. A veritable womb for international friendships. Think about it: there we all are, I my native tongue is English, but this girl's is Japanese, this guy is from Belgium, those two are from Spain... In any normal circumstance, we wouldn't be able to communicate or get to know one another very well. Enter Sprachkurs, stage right. Now we are all thrown together into a language class, where we are all learning a language that isn't our native one, and we are all making a lot of the same mistakes, etc. Basically, we all suck, we all know it, and so we give each other a lot of grace, as well as help one another out, right? Wrong
The Americans (and the lonely Canadian) huddle together in a herd, and the others form their own group, making due with German and other shared European languages. Maybe this wouldn't happen if we didn't have such an unusually high concentration of English speakers in our class, but as it stands, over half the class speaks English as their native tongue, and exactly one half is from the US of A.
So the stage is set. I'm trying desperately to get to know no-English students, and my plans are being foiled by a combination of the superfluity of Americans in my class, and their tendency to congeal into an impenetrable mass, into which there is no entry, and out of which there can be no escape. Well, not unless you break out, which I was desperate to do.
So yesterday, during our half hour break, the whole class was scattered throughout the break area, and I walked over and sat down next to an Italian guy, named Elias. Nicole, one of the Americans who was also livid with the current state of interaction, was sitting across the table. We began making small talk, auf Deutsch, as we try to do as much as possible, thereby bettering out German.
Anyway, so Nicole is talking about how she's traveling to France this weekend to visit a friend who is studying in Strasbourg. Elias asked if Nicole was French, Nicole was of course elated to be mistaken for anything other than an Amerikanerin, but was stoically honest and denied the compliment. She asked Elias why he thought she was French, since her striking blond hair might mark her as Scandinavian, but not French, and her accent was definitely American. Elias said it was because she was speaking German to me, an American. This of course, made me feel a little grumpy, since it was obviously blatant that I was the Amerikaner. Auf jeden Fall (in any case), it broke the proverbial Eis, and the three of us continued talking, about language learning, etc. Near the end of the break, Nicole asked me if I had any dinner plans. Because she and Ali live right down the hill from Kelsey and I, we often make dinner together, the four of us, or some combination thereof. I didn't have any dinner plans, but had been wanting to make Ratatouille, and then all of the sudden I had an inspiration from above.
It was desperate. It was forward. But by jove, I had to do something. I turned to Elias, and promptly invited him to dinner. He seemed a little surprised, but flashed me a killer Italian smile and accepted. After class, I invited the other Italian, Sylvia, so that Elias wouldn't feel outnumbered. She also accepted, with the same surprised smile.
I must pause here, to collect my thoughts. It is impossible to describe how excited I was at this point, but I was pretty darn excited.
My excitement was slightly dampened after going shopping and spending two days worth of grocery money on one meal, but I was determined, if I had to eat Butterkekse and water, to bridge the ever widening gap between me and the other foreign students. That evening, I threw all of the ingredients into a pot, and got it cooking, and at 6pm went to meet Sylvia and Elias am Markt, leaving Nicole to watch over the Ratatouille.
I met Sylvia there, and we waited for Elias, who came about 10 minutes later. A refreshing break from German punctuality. He brought a bottle of wine, and Sylvia some Schokolade, in keeping with the guest's code of honor (vis, never arrive anywhere empty handed. I'm not sure if this is just German, or European, but it's pretty cool, and definitely helped ease my wallet's clamoring).
The evening went spectacularly. The Ratatouille was fantastisch, even wowing skeptisch Nicole, who had a hard time believing it could taste that good for the ingredients that went into it. In her defence, I thought the same thing when I made it for the first time...We managed to keep lively conversation going in German, two Americans and two Italians, and even did a lot of practicing back and forth with Grammatik that we'd learned that day in class. I drank a glass of the Wine that Elias had brought from that savior of hungry students, ALDI, and I actually liked it, making it the first alcoholic beverage that I've enjoyed while in Germany, and the first full glass of anything I've ever drank.
They left at about 9.30 that evening, and as Nicole and I did victory dances all over the kitchen, I thought to myself, this is what studying abroad is really all about. Sure, I'm here to learn German, but why? why does one learn a foreign language? Why, to communicate, to connect, to get to know the people who you couldn't to know otherwise. If I had to leave right now and go home, I would consider this time well spent, but only after last night.
The battle against the Amerikaner-cloister isn't over, but I've struck a blow, and it was a good solid one too. Sylvia and Elias are more than just acquaintances now, and they may act as bridges to the others.
Now, I'm going to go drink some tea, eat some left over Ratatouille, and maybe have a little wine...
We're well into the second week of our Sprachkurs, and the Americana in the class is congealing like you wouldn't believe. It was time to do something, and I did it.
But let me back up. First of all, about studying abroad. Obviously, I want to become fluent in German, and learn more about German culture, etc. Otherwise, I wouldn't have come to Germany. However, as far as generic study-abroad goals go, I also just wanted to get to know ANYONE from another country, whose mother tongue wasn't English.
Ideally, the Sprachkurs is the perfect place to do this. A veritable womb for international friendships. Think about it: there we all are, I my native tongue is English, but this girl's is Japanese, this guy is from Belgium, those two are from Spain... In any normal circumstance, we wouldn't be able to communicate or get to know one another very well. Enter Sprachkurs, stage right. Now we are all thrown together into a language class, where we are all learning a language that isn't our native one, and we are all making a lot of the same mistakes, etc. Basically, we all suck, we all know it, and so we give each other a lot of grace, as well as help one another out, right? Wrong
The Americans (and the lonely Canadian) huddle together in a herd, and the others form their own group, making due with German and other shared European languages. Maybe this wouldn't happen if we didn't have such an unusually high concentration of English speakers in our class, but as it stands, over half the class speaks English as their native tongue, and exactly one half is from the US of A.
So the stage is set. I'm trying desperately to get to know no-English students, and my plans are being foiled by a combination of the superfluity of Americans in my class, and their tendency to congeal into an impenetrable mass, into which there is no entry, and out of which there can be no escape. Well, not unless you break out, which I was desperate to do.
So yesterday, during our half hour break, the whole class was scattered throughout the break area, and I walked over and sat down next to an Italian guy, named Elias. Nicole, one of the Americans who was also livid with the current state of interaction, was sitting across the table. We began making small talk, auf Deutsch, as we try to do as much as possible, thereby bettering out German.
Anyway, so Nicole is talking about how she's traveling to France this weekend to visit a friend who is studying in Strasbourg. Elias asked if Nicole was French, Nicole was of course elated to be mistaken for anything other than an Amerikanerin, but was stoically honest and denied the compliment. She asked Elias why he thought she was French, since her striking blond hair might mark her as Scandinavian, but not French, and her accent was definitely American. Elias said it was because she was speaking German to me, an American. This of course, made me feel a little grumpy, since it was obviously blatant that I was the Amerikaner. Auf jeden Fall (in any case), it broke the proverbial Eis, and the three of us continued talking, about language learning, etc. Near the end of the break, Nicole asked me if I had any dinner plans. Because she and Ali live right down the hill from Kelsey and I, we often make dinner together, the four of us, or some combination thereof. I didn't have any dinner plans, but had been wanting to make Ratatouille, and then all of the sudden I had an inspiration from above.
It was desperate. It was forward. But by jove, I had to do something. I turned to Elias, and promptly invited him to dinner. He seemed a little surprised, but flashed me a killer Italian smile and accepted. After class, I invited the other Italian, Sylvia, so that Elias wouldn't feel outnumbered. She also accepted, with the same surprised smile.
I must pause here, to collect my thoughts. It is impossible to describe how excited I was at this point, but I was pretty darn excited.
My excitement was slightly dampened after going shopping and spending two days worth of grocery money on one meal, but I was determined, if I had to eat Butterkekse and water, to bridge the ever widening gap between me and the other foreign students. That evening, I threw all of the ingredients into a pot, and got it cooking, and at 6pm went to meet Sylvia and Elias am Markt, leaving Nicole to watch over the Ratatouille.
I met Sylvia there, and we waited for Elias, who came about 10 minutes later. A refreshing break from German punctuality. He brought a bottle of wine, and Sylvia some Schokolade, in keeping with the guest's code of honor (vis, never arrive anywhere empty handed. I'm not sure if this is just German, or European, but it's pretty cool, and definitely helped ease my wallet's clamoring).
The evening went spectacularly. The Ratatouille was fantastisch, even wowing skeptisch Nicole, who had a hard time believing it could taste that good for the ingredients that went into it. In her defence, I thought the same thing when I made it for the first time...We managed to keep lively conversation going in German, two Americans and two Italians, and even did a lot of practicing back and forth with Grammatik that we'd learned that day in class. I drank a glass of the Wine that Elias had brought from that savior of hungry students, ALDI, and I actually liked it, making it the first alcoholic beverage that I've enjoyed while in Germany, and the first full glass of anything I've ever drank.
They left at about 9.30 that evening, and as Nicole and I did victory dances all over the kitchen, I thought to myself, this is what studying abroad is really all about. Sure, I'm here to learn German, but why? why does one learn a foreign language? Why, to communicate, to connect, to get to know the people who you couldn't to know otherwise. If I had to leave right now and go home, I would consider this time well spent, but only after last night.
The battle against the Amerikaner-cloister isn't over, but I've struck a blow, and it was a good solid one too. Sylvia and Elias are more than just acquaintances now, and they may act as bridges to the others.
Now, I'm going to go drink some tea, eat some left over Ratatouille, and maybe have a little wine...
4.3.08
etwas über Sandwiches
Ok, so this post is completely random, has very little to do with Germany, except that the following theories, conclusions, and nonesense came into my head while I am in Germany.
The Perfect sandwich is an illusive creature. So much so that some businesses have devoted their entire vocation to creating sandwiches, in hopes that some day, the perfect sandwich will be found.
Now, as a mere layman, I do not claim to have found such a sandwich, however, I am convinced that I have found one of a lost race, which, though still imperfect, is perhaps not so far fallen from original glory as some sandwiches (vis, most fast-food burgers). In short, I believe I have found the Dunedain of sandwiches.
What is necessary, you may ask, for a sandwich to achieve such atlantian heights of deliciousness? Many factors come into play, but a simplified equation will suffice for our purposes, whatever they be.
The trick is to find the perfect balance between texture, moisture, and complimentary flavor. The heretofore mentioned paragon of sandwiches has these very things:
-A good wheat bread, with small sprinklings of whole grains throughout give the sandwich the necessary foundation. No stronghold can stand on uncertain foundings, and neither, as it so happens, can a sandwich.
-a good cheese is smelt, and tasted, but not felt. cheese provides the timbre of the sandwich, but with texture it should not be concerned.
-the perfect meat is the melody of the sandwich. strong, forefront, but not so overpowering that it drowns out the rest of the sandwich. The meat's texture must be in accord with that of the bread, so that it provides a smooth firmament over the rougher surface of the bread.
-vegetable additions are the percussion of the orchestral sandwich. in choosing vegetables, be sure to keep in mind that nature is as important as punctuation. For example, avoid iceberg lettuce, because it lacks substance, and though it provides a certain amount of punctuation in the sandwich, it lacks a pleasing timbre, and may be likened to a garish metal can struck in place of a cymbal.
-seasonings must be chosen carefully, because too much moisture can ruin the bread. drier seasoning such as oregano, basil, etc are often much less hazardous, and may be the last touch of finesse necessary to complete the sandwich
-an appropriate drink is vital. such a beverage should act as a cadence, to start each measure of sandwich anew. Much like a good wine when eating cheese, a good sandwich beverage cleanses the pallet, while providing just the right context of flavor to introduce the sandwich with flourish.
All this, I have found in the following sandwich:
Proper wheat bread, with salami, a quality feta cheese, cucumber, one slice of tomato, and a sprinkling of basil. Orange juice went well with it, though I suspect cranberry juice would do even better. Alas, cranberries are rare in Deutschland, so I take my orange, grin, and bear it.
Many happy returns, and may joy be present among your taste buds.
pip pip!
The Perfect sandwich is an illusive creature. So much so that some businesses have devoted their entire vocation to creating sandwiches, in hopes that some day, the perfect sandwich will be found.
Now, as a mere layman, I do not claim to have found such a sandwich, however, I am convinced that I have found one of a lost race, which, though still imperfect, is perhaps not so far fallen from original glory as some sandwiches (vis, most fast-food burgers). In short, I believe I have found the Dunedain of sandwiches.
What is necessary, you may ask, for a sandwich to achieve such atlantian heights of deliciousness? Many factors come into play, but a simplified equation will suffice for our purposes, whatever they be.
The trick is to find the perfect balance between texture, moisture, and complimentary flavor. The heretofore mentioned paragon of sandwiches has these very things:
-A good wheat bread, with small sprinklings of whole grains throughout give the sandwich the necessary foundation. No stronghold can stand on uncertain foundings, and neither, as it so happens, can a sandwich.
-a good cheese is smelt, and tasted, but not felt. cheese provides the timbre of the sandwich, but with texture it should not be concerned.
-the perfect meat is the melody of the sandwich. strong, forefront, but not so overpowering that it drowns out the rest of the sandwich. The meat's texture must be in accord with that of the bread, so that it provides a smooth firmament over the rougher surface of the bread.
-vegetable additions are the percussion of the orchestral sandwich. in choosing vegetables, be sure to keep in mind that nature is as important as punctuation. For example, avoid iceberg lettuce, because it lacks substance, and though it provides a certain amount of punctuation in the sandwich, it lacks a pleasing timbre, and may be likened to a garish metal can struck in place of a cymbal.
-seasonings must be chosen carefully, because too much moisture can ruin the bread. drier seasoning such as oregano, basil, etc are often much less hazardous, and may be the last touch of finesse necessary to complete the sandwich
-an appropriate drink is vital. such a beverage should act as a cadence, to start each measure of sandwich anew. Much like a good wine when eating cheese, a good sandwich beverage cleanses the pallet, while providing just the right context of flavor to introduce the sandwich with flourish.
All this, I have found in the following sandwich:
Proper wheat bread, with salami, a quality feta cheese, cucumber, one slice of tomato, and a sprinkling of basil. Orange juice went well with it, though I suspect cranberry juice would do even better. Alas, cranberries are rare in Deutschland, so I take my orange, grin, and bear it.
Many happy returns, and may joy be present among your taste buds.
pip pip!
2.3.08
Christus-Treff
Today was my second Sunday spent here in Mar-velous-burg, so I thought it would be appropriate to give an account of the Church body I have found here.
Christus-Treff, literally, 'Christ-meeting' is the name of the church, and it meets every Thursday night at 8 and every Sunday morning at 10. Thursday nights are the best though, because we meet in the Old Gothic Lutherische Kirche, who's tower I see right out my window. It's freezing in there, so the second time I went I was sure to bring gloves! The acoustics there are amazing, and I have a new appreciation for Gothic architecture; it draws your attention to the majesty of God in a way that modern Churches often fail to.
Christus-Treff is contemporary, and a lot like many churches I've been to back home (except auf Deutsch). It's really neat, because many of the songs that we sing are the German counterparts of English worship songs. This is especially nice, because I already have an idea of what the song is about, so when a grey vocabulary word crops up, I can usually make an educated guess as to the meaning. Worshipping in German has been amazing. It has helped build my vocabulary in areas that I wouldn't learn in my Sprachkurs, but areas which are nonetheless very important to me. Learning how to understand my faith auf Deutsch has been exciting.
Christus Treff is also helpful, because it is a time of structured listening, with a specific context. My years of Bible quizzing are proving to be invaluable as I hear a Bible passage and instantly have a framework to infer new vocabulary from. It's exciting to see how much my comprehension has improved just from my first Sunday here a week ago. Today I understood almost the entire sermon (except when I spaced out writing down a particularly long word to look up later), and felt like I came away not simply having had a good language\culture experience, but feeling like I do at home when I come away from a sermon with real life things to think about.
Today was also really neat because they had the equivalent of the 'Missions Moment' that my church has back at home. Today's moment was about the country of Somalia. That was really awesome, because last semester I got to be an English tutor for some Somali refugees. Hearing about their country, all the way across the world in Germany, and then breaking off into small groups and hearing the voices of a hundred Germans praying for Somalia the way I would after sessions last fall, it just made me realize that this is what life is all about, hardcore.
I can tell already that Christus-Treff is going to be one of the most significant parts of my time here in Germany, and I am already thinking about how much I will miss it!
P.S. I don't think I can ever sing Agnus Dei in English again...it's just so much better in German,
sorry Michael W....
Christus-Treff, literally, 'Christ-meeting' is the name of the church, and it meets every Thursday night at 8 and every Sunday morning at 10. Thursday nights are the best though, because we meet in the Old Gothic Lutherische Kirche, who's tower I see right out my window. It's freezing in there, so the second time I went I was sure to bring gloves! The acoustics there are amazing, and I have a new appreciation for Gothic architecture; it draws your attention to the majesty of God in a way that modern Churches often fail to.
Christus-Treff is contemporary, and a lot like many churches I've been to back home (except auf Deutsch). It's really neat, because many of the songs that we sing are the German counterparts of English worship songs. This is especially nice, because I already have an idea of what the song is about, so when a grey vocabulary word crops up, I can usually make an educated guess as to the meaning. Worshipping in German has been amazing. It has helped build my vocabulary in areas that I wouldn't learn in my Sprachkurs, but areas which are nonetheless very important to me. Learning how to understand my faith auf Deutsch has been exciting.
Christus Treff is also helpful, because it is a time of structured listening, with a specific context. My years of Bible quizzing are proving to be invaluable as I hear a Bible passage and instantly have a framework to infer new vocabulary from. It's exciting to see how much my comprehension has improved just from my first Sunday here a week ago. Today I understood almost the entire sermon (except when I spaced out writing down a particularly long word to look up later), and felt like I came away not simply having had a good language\culture experience, but feeling like I do at home when I come away from a sermon with real life things to think about.
Today was also really neat because they had the equivalent of the 'Missions Moment' that my church has back at home. Today's moment was about the country of Somalia. That was really awesome, because last semester I got to be an English tutor for some Somali refugees. Hearing about their country, all the way across the world in Germany, and then breaking off into small groups and hearing the voices of a hundred Germans praying for Somalia the way I would after sessions last fall, it just made me realize that this is what life is all about, hardcore.
I can tell already that Christus-Treff is going to be one of the most significant parts of my time here in Germany, and I am already thinking about how much I will miss it!
P.S. I don't think I can ever sing Agnus Dei in English again...it's just so much better in German,
sorry Michael W....
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