The rest is the best

I am getting in under the clock! Here is the rest of what I like about Germany... I would have written sooner but I haven't had much downtime on my vacation home:

Number 4: Lack of sarcasm.

Sure, Germans are not very funny, in fact, they are unfunny. They do not like puns, double entendres or sarcastic asides. Sometimes they tolerate physical comedy or racist jokes about Italians, but usually they keep it straight-laced. And although this is one of my least favorite things about Germans, it's also an admirable trait. Unlike so many sound byte-y Americans, Germans are comfortable with silence and reflection and an altogether absence of cheer. They also don't quip mean or sarcastic or speak like a MySpace away message. Finally, I think this lack of sarcasm also eliminates the cultural-verbal hiccup of "like." Like, cool.

Number 3: Easily identifiable prostitutes.

Are they going to the State Fair, or going to turn a trick? German hookers always inspire this question in my mind because they are outfitted with a jaunty white fanny pack. Brilliant! It holds money, prophylactics and lipstick, what else does a lady of the Nacht need?! Not to make light of a serious topic in Germany (hookers are taxpayers, it's legal) but I like that they sort of have a uniform. From to Berlin to Hamburg you see the fanny pack, a white puffy jacket and white pleather go-go boots. This fits Germans general love of order and stereotypes, and if you can't stereotype a hooker, who can you stereotype?

Number 2: Regionalism.

I love this one. In the past year I have been to Cologne, Berlin, Hamburg, Nuremburg, Munich, Hannover, Bamberg, etc... and every city is different, reflecting the vast regionalism in germany. Geography helps: The Alps, the river region and the North sea all provide ready-made identities, but even in states like Hessen, the people are proud to have their own slang, booze and universities.

Mambo number 5 (and 6)

Why does Lou Vega exist? Why am I taking off-brand German cold medicine? Where am I?


The number 6 thing I like about Germany is their precise and particular and perplexing language. It's true: Even though German grammar is so hard, and I'll never understand a sentence like Ich wasche mir die Haende mit guter Seife (literal translation: I wash myself/to me the hands with good soap. Real world translation: I am washing my hands) I keep trying because it's so hard that it becomes fun. Maybe this is how it feels to play chess or something. I also love the words because they are so literal. Let me illustrate with some words from advertisements in the latest issue of the German fashion magazine Brigiite: Protein is "Eiweiss" (egg white); oral contraceptives are "die antibabypille" (the anti-baby pill); vacuum cleaner is "Staubsauger" (dust sucker); mittens are "Handschue" (hand shoes); gums (from a toothpaste ad) are "Zahnfleisch" (tooth meat). But my favorite is one of the first German words I learned: "Nacktschneke." It means naked snail, in other words, a slug.

And while we're talking about tooth meat, I'll bring up number 5 which is the pretty rockin' German healthcare system. I'm not going to get all political on you, but I have to say going to the doctor for a sinus infection (sorry, that's gross) earlier this year was shocking for two reasons. 1: My doctor had a red 'fro and 2: The cost of the visit plus 18 Amoxicillian pills was only 20 Euros!!!! That's just plain unbelievable. The proof is in the pudding, or my clear sinus cavities.

The Upper Crust

I will not let you down blog readers (mom and dad)! I return with numbers 8 and 7 on things I actually like about the 'Furt/ the Fatherland.

This installment is a little late as our apartmenthold has been staging an epic battle with a nasty holiday cold. I have also been working overtime to get two Romanian girls prepared to take the TOEFL test and I am so emotionally invested in their understanding of "if clauses" and "reported speech." If you know me, you know how I feel about Eastern Europe/ Europeans (undying love/devotion) so you can imagine how much I care about Luci and Maria's success. Ok, so on with the show:

Number 8: I love that Germans take pride in their royal blood.

In the course of this last year I have had several students make artfully blase remarks how all of Europe's royal families are actually German. This murmur of royal boasting was amplified a few weeks ago when Chuck turned 60, it was all over the news and the Germans were all like, "they are actually German, what's the big deal?" Because Germany was such a disorganized mess up until... umm... 1946, Germany was a treasure trove of royal families who rose and descended in power and land, but always made a good marriage option for the houses of France, Germany, Spain and the UK. German houses like the Hannovers, Holsteins and the Saxe-Coburg-Gothas (later shortened to "Windsor") produced Queen Victoria and, thus, my beloved Chuck.

Since the German are incapable or irony, their boasts are totally legit. One student, Ute, actually said that without the mix of German blood all royal families would be "like this." She then proceeded to stick out her jaw and mime not being able to close her mouth.

Number 7: They have never had a problem with Carbs.

Sure, Germans have fad diets (mostly juice fasts and food combining) and women buy cellulite cream by the liter at the drugstore, but Germans have never demonized carbs. They love bread and embrace it in many forms, most notably the pretzel (Bretzle) and the many dense and delicious Kuchen (cakes). Bread here is consumed at every meal, and it's hearty, nutty, brownberry stuff. Bakeries of all stripes (chain and healthy independents) line every street. Thank God we have Dr. Oester, and not Dr Atkins.

Do you get my blog title?

Prost! (cheers)

My number 9 Thing I Actually Like about Germany is... their Drinking culture!

I think Germany is the best drinking country in the world. They make excellent wines, beers and liquors and do not seem to have severe problems with overindulgence. They foster drinking communities through neighborhood Kneipes (like a pub/bar) where groups of friends can claim a Stammtisch, or reserved table. Sure, you may find over-served Germans at these bars, but who cares? A drunk German will just become rosy cheeked and possibly start singing songs about mountains or Austria. A drunk Brit, on the other hand, might try to stab you.

Germans are great at ritual, which is what makes drinking here so satisfying. Here in the 'Furt we drink Apfelwein, not found outside the state of Hessen. So Apfelwein is always served in a dimpled glass out of a ceramic pitcher, or Bemble. We also drink Henniger beer, brewed not 500 yards from our apartment and Rheingauer Riesling, grown one hour north of the city. Each drink has it's own glass, it's own temperature, it's own season, etc. It's orderly and evocative of traditions and merriment that have been taking place long before you turned 21 (or 18, as it is here).

And the Germans show a flexibility and creativity in their drinking culture that is rarely seen in other parts of the country's persona. I have previously written about Diesel (coke + beer), but there is also Jaegermeister tee, mulled wine, spiked cider, and my favorite raspberry beer. The Germans allow their fancies to take over at the tap.

Shameless Pride

I am a very happy DP today because all of Germany is reading an interview of Annie Lennox by Herr Grell in the Friday edition of the FAZ. This is a big paper in Germany, and E's name underneath the androgynous singer's picture is certainly frame-worthy.

I will post again later today about the number 9 thing I love about Germans: Drinking Culture.

In which I do something different

Perhaps it's the mulled wine or the Christmas lights hanging from the Altbau apartments, but I am in the mood for a little holiday goodwill and yuletide reflection. At a recent dinner at our neighborhood Indian place, the colonial namesake Bombay Palace, E pointed out to me that on January 7th I will have my one-year anniversary with the Fatherland.

My initial response: Scheisse. One year and I have a special needs third grader's language skills, one German friend, one Ukrainian friend probably about 3 pounds of Ritter Sport chocolate irrevocably attached to my butt. I was being a Negative Nancy, a role that ex-patriotism not only encourages but supports. For me, 2008 was the Year of the Gripe. The most omnipresent: I can't remember dative personal pronouns. I have no oven. I have no friends. I feel bloated. I wish I looked Aryan. I wish the English movie theater didn't show "Hellboy" on two screens... etc.

So in an effort to be more positive I am going to post my Top Ten Things I Actually Like about Germany/Germans throughout the rest of December. I have one month to foster my "intention of happiness" (that's from an O article I cut out). Here goes:

Number 10: I like how Germans dance because it's so weird

A few weeks ago I went to a German dance club with the aforementioned German friend. The club was full of hipsters, and the DJ was spinning things like " Don't Walk Away Renee" with a house beat. It was weird, but not as weird as a dance floor full of Krauts getting down. Germans do not grind, freak or hump on the dance floor. Nor do they dance ironically, they way most white people do (like me). There are no sprinklers or pencil sharpeners, no people pretending to be hooked fish. Instead Germans dance in a totally serious, totally Teutonic, totally unselfconscious way. They're like Sprockets but better. They do not touch. They do not smile. They do not raise their arms. They grimace and move their hips like people who actually like Kraftwerk. They are robots, and God bless them for that.

Santa packs are comin'...

No they're not! Germans do not do holiday coke products. But they do Weihnachtsmarkt or the Christmas Market, also known as the time of year I become a widow because I have a domestic partner who likes Gluehwein (mulled wine).

Christmas markets are set up in the pedestrian zones of all major German cities. The 'Furt's is pretty decent and winds itself around the Roemerberg and the Zeil. Little wooden huts selling gingerbread, spiced wine, potato pancakes, etc... beckon the passerby from 10 a.m. to 10 p.m. and each mini-house is adorned with lights to boot. It really is festive and sort of Grimm-like.

I however, do not think there is a sicker concoction than hot red wine mixed with sugar and random herbs. It gives me gut rot just thinking about it.

The 'Furt opened their market today (each city does it some days before Advent) with the lighting of a central Christmas tree. We are planning to go to Hamburg on Dec. 20 to see their markets, which are on the harbor and situated around a skating rink. It is all very idyllic and Nordic; it makes me reflect on my time spent with the American Girl doll Kirsten Larson. Though not a Swede nor a Lutheran, I dug her dour candle-lit Minnesota holiday celebrations. Like in Germany, the cold and the usual bummer temperament of the people made the holiday effort seem doubly festive.

Fighting the Bear

This time of year I am fighting the bear, our innate animal instinct to horde and hibernate come November. For me this looks like wanting to eat whole kilos of Milka chocolate and contemplating renting "Something's Gotta Give" from itunes. No other movie, except perhaps "You've Got Mail," makes me more immobile and/or grateful for TBS than "Something's Gotta Give." It's not even a guilty pleasure because Amanda Peet's bangs changed my life and I am in mad love with Erica Berry's (Diane Keaton) life Why?:
1. She always celebrates her birthday in Paris and smokes a cigarette.
2. She collects sea glass.
3. She can only get 4 hours of sleep per night.
4. She only shops at markets and uses an iBook.

That movie also makes me yearn for middle age, which is a feat in itself.

Berlin Baby Pt. II

I went to Berlin this past weekend with my parents and sister-in-law. They came to the 'Furt for an autumn break and although I've seen enough of ZARA kids to last me awhile, I absolutely had a blast with them. I think this was in large part due to my SIL, Janell. She not only taught me how to properly clean my bathroom (who knew that you had to clean toilet basin bowl?! I am not good at that!) but she also balanced the DNA overload of my parents. My father is prone to dramatics and histrionics (At the Checkpoint Charlie Museum: "You mean to tell me that when I was a 16 year-old banging on drums in White Bear, some 16 year-old East German was trying to build a helicopter to cross the Wall... (awed shaking of the head)." My mother, God bless her, has gotten a little too skillful at text messaging and internet browsing via cell phone. She whipped out her phone in front of every monument to "check on my guy." She meant Barack Obama.

But that's why I love my parents, I think.

Besides seeing all of the major Berlin sites, taking a bus/boat tour, and doing damage control at the Pergamon Museum (my dad tried to touch the Ishtar Gate: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ishtar_Gate) we ate at some amazing restaurants. When a guidebook tells me that there's an Italian restaurant serving "the best Italian food outside of Italy" and frequented by the likes of a Mr. Tom Hanks, I'm there. So we enjoyed a meal at Bocca Di Bacco: http://www.boccadibacco.de/

We also ate at Zum Letzen Instanz, Berlin's oldest restaurant (1621) where a group of drunk Swedish business men (from hand gestures we gathered concrete sales) kept massaging both of my parents' necks.

And we hung out a lot in the lobby of the Westin Grand, where scenes from the second Bourne movie where filmed. They have ornery waitresses.

Surprisingly my parents and Janell claim to like the 'Furt more than Berlin. I don't know if they are saying that just to be nice, but for those of us living in the Cleveland of German, it felt pretty darn good.

Scary Urban Experience #1

Tuesday morning: The sun is shining, it's 9 a.m. and I am walking my 4 minute walk to the subway station to go to work. It's fall, the leaves are bright, and I am modestly dressed in a long black toggle coat and full length pants. I also have my hair in a ponytail and minimal make-up (sorry Mom, I don't always "define my eyes"). See me smiling, see me walking by the butcher and the baker, and thinking to myself, "Where's the candlestick maker? Ha ha."

Suddenly, a nice-looking man, age approximately 35 approaches me. In German he asks if I know how to get to the main train station. Indeed I do! I cheerfully tell him to take a tram and then I turn and keep going. He yells for me to wait and asks me to repeat myself "Noch einmal, bitte." Of course I repeat myself, I'm from Minnesota. I smile and turn and hear him yell "wait" again. He asks if I am British, because of my accent. I say "nope, American." I walk and he yells again. This time, I'm annoyed but I stop and he asks me to walk with him, offering me his elbow. Now, about 3 minutes too late, I realize that this guy is potentially creepy, so I just say in a stern voice, "I have to go to work." I start walking really fast, not 100 feet from the U-Bahn when this guy runs behind me, grabs my arm, turns me around and says "You have to work. I'll give you 50 Euro." This proposition was accompanied by the man making a lewd gesture with his free hand, his mouth and his tongue. I pinwheeled my arm and just screamed "No!" without thinking. Luckily, two construction workers on the street ran over and pushed the guy away, and scared him off. The workers escorted me to the U-Bahn where I told a cop what happened. I can identify this man "Law and Order: SUV" style. He is 5'11, no more than 170 and he has dark hair. I gave all this information to the cop. I don't feel like the victim of a crime, per say, but I do feel like I would make an excellent witness.

I am not a suspicious person, and I certainly do not look like a fancy prostitute at 9 in the morning. I smile at strangers and like to help tourists read maps when I hear them speaking English. I even, much to the annoyance of E, strike up conversations with Mormons on the train. Even though this encounter was strange, and by all means scary, I haven't really changed my routine. Maybe I'm too trusting, but I think this guy knows not to come back to the neighborhood where such a fierce arm pinwheeler resides.

I'm probably being really naive.

German Children

On Fridays I teach a group of four 10 year-olds whose parents want them to excel in English. We play a lot of hang man, and I also make them sing songs. I don't think they're really excelling.

These boys are very funny, often smelling their armpits and declaring they need "Deo," or asking me how many kids I have. They can never seem to keep my personal biography straight and always ask if I'm from America or Australia. They asked this last question again on Friday (right after I read them "The Raven").

Me: I'm from America, I just told you guys that.
Them: Oh yeah! (then they kiss their first two fingers before splitting them into a peace sign, a very German soccer superstar thing.)
Me: Do you guys know what's happening in my country in a few days?
Them: (thinking, actually picking their nose) Um, a train strike?
Me: No
Them: Trash strike?
Me: No
Them: City strike?
Me: No
Them: BUS strike?
Me: No, no strikes.
Them: What? It's not a strike?
Me: No, we're voting for a new president.

*Silence*

Them: My father says the Americans are the world police.
Me: Well that's his opinion but... um, do you guys want to play hangman?

This website rocks

You can just watch ANY music video you can think of!

http://www.mtvmusic.com

Does everyone already know about this? Am I really behind on youth culture?

It's in my backyard!

So I guess Hessen's own Frankenstein's Burg (the castle that inspired Mary Shelley) is making some North American news agencies.
http://www.nbc13.com/vtm/news/local/article/spending_halloween_in_frankensteins_castle/43499/

Yawn.

Any Hessischerin worth her weight in Applewein knows that this castle just south of Darmstadt (maybe 50 minutes south of the 'Furt) is the place to be for Halloween on mainland Europe. Make that the only place to be. Halloween is not big here. I don't know if I will have the opportunity to break out my beloved cat ears.* I chalk up Germans' chilly embrace of Halloween to their literalism. Germans have a very low tolerance for fancy, and even less for children knocking on their doors after sundown. Ja, ja, ja, I know that Halloween is an American export and many students and peers have pointed out that it's a holiday created by candy companies, but who cares? It's one of America's better exports, and traditions, if you ask me, and commercialism doesn't bother me so much when it culminates in a Funsize Twix or a Mylar balloon with the the word "Spooky" written on it.

I have had the weirdest work week, which I'm chalking up to the crazy global vibes of the election/the financial crisis/my proximity to Frankenstein's house. Students have been revealing things to me that make me very nervous, and I am just not sure how to respond:

-Today a male student told me that his children (let's be real, he said "childs" because he can't nail down that irregular plural) were miracles. I nodded and said, "I know, children ARE miracles." But then he went into a very detailed account of his fertility problems, including how he got nervous when he had to "Make it in [the] cup with the hardcore."
- On Tuesday a man whom I always thought was German revealed to me that he was in fact Peruvian, born to Estonian parents, and educated in a Swiss boarding school.I never thought him glamorous, and now I can't help thinking he's a spy. I don't trust him anymore.
- Those were actually the only two things, but I thought they were pretty weird, and deserved a mention on this Godforsaken blog.

* My cat ears are an integral part of the costume I have worn most for Halloween, "Black Cat." I love the simplicity of a few black eyeliner whiskers, a headband with ears, and a black turtleneck with jeans. This costume illustrates both my lack of ingenuity and my belief that black cats and I share a similar fashion sense.

Germany: Where kids can look at porn

Sorry for the delay but between working (almost) full-time and going to school, I've neglected my blog. Fortunately, I have a group of students ending this week so I will have 180 more free minutes starting Wednesday... I will use this free time to blog. Or bake cookies. Or, let's be real, read fashion blogs and watch the Sarah Palin rap for the 17th time.

On Tuesday I was taking the subway to my crime fiction class where we just read Poe's "The Murders in the Rue Morgue." My fellow students are old! At least 30! And they all smoke and wear real trench coats. Needless to say, I felt pretty intimidated during the first two lectures until one girl (woman, actually) asked me to do a co-presentation with her on prison imagery in fiction. I am so desperate for acquaintances and/or peers I actually said yes. Anyway, I was on the subway and noticed an old man reading Bild, the number one picture-packed newspaper in Germany. It's like USA Today with boobs. Boobs, boobs, boobs. Everyday the paper features a naked lady on the bottom front page, except on Sundays when she's inside on page 3. So this guy was reading and there was this 19 year-old Brigitte with her rack out when a group of about 15 fourth-graders got on. They crowded in, sat next to the man, and the boys immediately began to crack up. And it wasn't just laughing, it was a rolling on the floor of the dirty subway, gasping for air annoying but cute display. The best part was that the teachers started laughing too. Then the girls pretended to not know what was going on. It was so refreshing. I was glad to see that German 10 year-olds laughed uncontrollably about nudity and sexuality. They deal with the shame of nudity like the rest of us. That's how it should be. I was thinking that in this culture, with it's nude newspapers would have produced a generation of progressives, but not so.

12 reasons they still love us

So the FAZ, the Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung (Frankfurt Daily Paper) had a big article on America in their weekend "Culture" edition. The FAZ is a bit like the NYT of Germany (full discretion: Also E's employer) and they usually have very good, thoughtful coverage of current issues. I can't understand the advanced German in the paper, but I look at the pictures and illustrations.

This Sunday the Culture section was called "We Love America." In the subhead that followed, the editorial staff wrote that even though the USA may have ruined the world economy, they still love the States and admire them. Wow, I thought, how bold. Then they gave the 12 reasons they still loved us. The reasons are a mix of the total obvious (Rock music? No shit.) and completely hilarious German observations.

Here's the list:

1. TV Series. They mention "Frasier" and "Malcom in the Middle" as their top pics. Ouch germany, ouch.
2. Mode (Fashion). Here they mention Jackie O., Michelle Obama, and Marc Jacobs.
3. Rockmusik. It's all about Bob Dylan.
4. Kinderliebe (Americans love children). This is my favorite, because the editors claim that children in America are treated like Kings and Queens. Their proof? The existence of Kid's menus at restaurants.
5. Universitaeten: We have some of the best research institutes, especially medical in the world.
6. Freundlichkeit (Friendliness): Also funny, they claim Americans are friendly because they ask everyone, the shop keeper, the waiter, even their employee, "how are you?" Hey Germany, this is just called being decent.
7. Basketball: Deutschland hoops it up.
8. Indian Summer: And our entire New England landscape they have from movies.
9. New York City: "Es ist hip geworden." It was where hip was born.
10. Debattenkultur (Debating): They love that we actually "still" do this.
11. Kino (Cinema): They ruin this entry by saying the best moment in US film history is Julia Roberts in her red Opera dress in "Pretty Woman."
12. Literatur: In defense against that (French?) guy who said an American author does not deserve the Nobel Prize.

I love how unironic Germans are. And now that they mention it, there are no Kid's menus here! Maybe this is part of the birth rate problem!

I have no pride

If you ever live abroad in a country where you don't really know the language, you will quickly lose any semblance of the pride or dignity you once possessed. If you don't give up your pride, you're subject to daily humiliation. When I first came here, I could barley introduce myself, let alone read German. Thus I walking into doors labeled "out," I was asked to move check-out lines because I had more than 5 items, etc. But even the past 9 months of letting go of shame did not prepare me for Sunday afternoon... when I got kicked out of a McDonald's.

How trashy do you have to be to get kicked out of a McDonald's? McDonald's, the one place in Europe where I could always count on fast service and the footwear-less presence of junkies. McDonald's is like my little American embassy: Visited rarely, in times of extreme desperation.

I was there Sunday using the t-mobile HotSpot WiFi. I had a Happy Meal, a speedy connection to cnn.com, and I was just youtubing some SNL clips when an angry manager approached me, hands waving.

"Geht Raus!"

I thought, "Hey! I understand this guy! :)" I know that means go away, or get outside, because that's what my student's say when there is a bee in the classroom. Then is hit me, he was shooing at me.. A man in Germany was shooing me, a paying AMERICAN customer out of his establishment. I felt the eyes of small children turn to me, and I was too embarrassed to respond. But if I had, I probably would have made a grammatical mistake.

We just got internet and phone!

Here are some pictures of the new place!

Moving trials and tribulations

So we've moved into the much more centrally located, well-cafe-ed area of Sachsenhausen. I would have blogged earlier and posted pictures of our glorious oven, but of course our internet and phone have not yet been connected.

I really think that Americans win when it comes to efficiency in the service industry. If I pay (or E pays) for a service as necessary as a telephone, it should be set up without the prodding of a dozen phone calls and a two-week waiting period. E tells me I am being an impatient American, but really, ask any ex-pat and they'll tell you that without internet they'd be fashioning a noose out of that super sticky IKEA tape that has piled up in any neue Whonung corner. Also, German TV is just not covering the news stories I need. Political upheavals in Bavaria don't do much for me.

The move took place Sunday and Monday. We rented a molester van and also had some new furniture delivered by IKEA on Tuesday. We painted the new place, which is high-ceilinged and sunny, then began unpacking the boxes. Luckily we have big clothes wardrobes so our clothes hanging no longer takes place on free-standing rods. We also have a very sharp Expedit bookshelf that also serves as room divider. We're still working on putting the place together but at least E has put up the bathroom light and assembled everything.

While he works with his newly acquired power drill (is that what that's called?) I have been playing with oven. Things I have made, and subsequently eaten: Coconut and Cranberrry Oat Bars, Blondies, Yogurt Scones, Bean Boulangerie and stuffed peppers. Baking supplies are different here: Baking powder comes only in individual packets as does vanilla extract. Brown sugar is not hard-packed and they do not sell disposable pie tins. Today I attempt cookies.

I start school on Tuesday. My first class is on violence in the American novel. I think the first assigned book is Blood Meridian. Today there is no work. It's Oct. 3, German Day of Reunification, or Einheit. Everything is closed (I can use WiFi at Starbucks or McDonald's) but the day is sleepy. It's not like Bastille Day or 4th of July. Germans don't have any attachment to this specific date and both Ost and West question the Einheit, even as we're approaching the 20 year mark next year.

Here;s some links about our new neighborhood (we live on Textorstrasse) : http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sachsenhausen_(Frankfurt_am_Main
http://www.frankfurt360.de/sachsenhausen-e.htm

Apologies!

I am so sorry to be a lazy blogger this last week. Between work, gearing up for an apartment move and getting all my ducks in a row at the University, I've been busy.

The weather here in the 'Furt is absolutely dreadful. It's cold (40 degrees), gray and wet. This is typical Hessen weather; since we're surrounded by mountains it never gets super cold and doesn't really snow, just a miserable sort of dampness that crawls under your jacket for 6 months.

Despite the cold weather my friend Courtney and I had a great time when she visited this weekend. She's in Berlin, soon to be back in the states and she wanted one last visit to Mainhattan. We walked and walked, and ate and ate. Cafe Crumble has to be the best new place I've tried this week: They serve a hausgemacht (home made) streussel crumble with warm raspberries and rhubarb and vanilla sauce. Truly German pastries at their finest.

In order to celebrate E's last day at his not-so-fun job yesterday, we went to see "Tropic Thunder" at the American movie theater. Choices are limited at the Turm Palast, and we did not want to see "Mummy 4." In most areas of life Germans will avoid being close to you, but not at the movie theater. On a train, on the sidewalk, in an elevator, Germans place themselves as far away from you as physically possible. But at the movies they nuzzle right up... I don't know if it's because the aisle seats are not considered as premium as they are at home, but I can't stand how Germans sit next to you in an otherwise empty theater. Maybe they're looking to other patrons for cues to laugh.

Typisch Deutsch

This weekend was Typisch Deutsch, or typically German around these parts.

On Friday, we tried a new restaurant called Weisse Lilie (White Lilly) a Spanish Tapas restaurant in Bornheim. If you ever get to the 'Furt, this is a must. candle-lit-dark-wooded-hand-written-menu-dwarf-appropriate-table-sizes were really enjoyable, and the saffron rice and seafood (not to mention the cured olives) was also excellent. And then we went home, and I fitness walked while listening to a "Fresh Air" podcast. That last sentence makes me seem too teachery...

On Saturday we slept and eventually made our way to Bokenheim for a birthday party. The crowd was international but leaning heavily towards the Natives. I had to actually speak German and mime (One man told me he was a "Tischler" (carpenter) and I started making a hammer motion. Unfortunate.) What was interesting to observe were the German's drinking habits. They drink Coke Light mixed with any sort of Pils! Everyone told me this was the typical German post-college drink. It tasted nasty, but sort of chemically enticing. Maybe a little cough syrupy?

Sunday was BORING because Sunday's are ALWAYS boring in Germany because nothing is open and everyone wears quilted barn jackets and orthopedic shoes as they take their Sunday strolls. We live by old people.

Get into the groove

Madonna was here two nights ago. Tickets cost 300 E a pop, which is like $500 and the Germans paid out for Madge. I hope she didn't flash a picture of A.H. when she does her montage of starving children/George Bush stage show.

I've been back to Germany for one week and even though I am currently entrenched in a battle with fruit flies in our tiny apartment, I feel jet-lag free. Today a student asked me if I liked die Barrakuda. She meant Sarah Palin, and then she told me that the Wilson sisters of Heart were upset by Palin's use of "Barracuda" at the RNC. Really? I just googled, and sadly my student knew more about this topic than me. Anyway, I don't think the Wilson sisters should be taking their politics too seriously, they are, after all, members of the band Heart. And Heart is exactly the type of music I think Palin would like. I don't mean that in any other way than as a fact. I dig her Tina Fey of the Tundra vibe.

I sent my request for my absentee ballot in this week. Minnesota is super high-tech and apparently I can get an email ballot and then mail it in. I'll bring it in to show my students, they are more jazzed about this election than me.

Besides fruit flies and watching cnn.com news videos every night (they're like our version of a Fireside Chat) I have been obsessed with reading food blogs. My renewed culinary enthusiasm is due to the fact that in 19 days I get an oven!

These are the most interesting:

For dinner ideas-
http://pinchmysalt.com/
http://expatriateskitchen.blogspot.com/
http://www.cookingforengineers.com/
http://www.lastnightsdinner.net/
http://smittenkitchen.com/

When I can bake!
http://momsbest.blogspot.com/
http://chocolateandzucchini.com/

Back to Business

Hello blog readers, I'm back from my two-week hiatus in the States. I didn't blog there because I was too busy driving cars and putting purchases on credit cards. Viva la Minnesota!

I'm still shaking off the dregs of jet-lag, but mostly I'm just grateful for how easy our trip was. Staying at the spacious American homes of your parents', with ovens and multiple toilets was surreal.

We went to the Fair and ate Mini Donuts, Cheese Curds, Sweet Martha's, et. al. We saw friends, saw lakes, saw mountains, and saw Nirvana in the form of the Highland Park Barnes & Nobel.

Erik got attacked by tear gas while looking for protesters at the RNC. I got attacked by heavy feelings after watching Beau Biden talk about his dead mom at the DNC. We met T-Paw at the Fair before we were sideswept by the Tina Fey mit Kinder candidate... it was nothing if not a political trip. If I heard my mother shout "Mama for Obama" one more time into the TV screen, I may have been back to Germany a week earlier.

And of course, we attended the other Grell brother's wedding to the lovely and well-read Amanda. It was so funky up there in the mountains, there were even white buffalo, which are supposed to be sacred according to "Dances With Wolves." And, there was square dancing: perfect wedding activity, anyone could follow the instructions and if you didn't want to dance it was entertaining just to watch.

So now we're back home, which is surprisingly okay. I got on the U-Bahn after the airport and smelled that nasty/awesome subway smell, I noted which movies were playing here now on the yellow posters, I even missed my German 1.8 % fat milk.

I do however miss my family, and their newfound love of Blokus, the best board game ever.

Score one for Germany!

Germany, unlike Italy or France, doesn't get a lot of love from American celebrities. No one comes here to get married, have a baby, or hang out with George Clooney. Even though we have mountains, beaches, and cosmopolitan cities, the only movies filmed here have to do with the big H. Sometimes Royals come skiing here, but that really doesn't count.

But news my blog readers: I was visiting Courtney in Berlin this past weekend. On Saturday we got high on the splendor that is the KaDeWe makeup floor. (KaDeWe is the biggest, most fantastic, most glorious department store in Germany) Then we had the best falafel in Berlin, DaDa, then we showered and went out. It was during my second Astra beer at the Pony Bar in Mitte that I heard the life-changing news. A British man sitting next to me was telling his friend that he had word that BRANGELINA are in the process of moving to the ultra-hip, former East Prenzlauerberg district. My ears went up like a short haired pointer's. Could it be?

Yes, apparently. Brad is filming the new Quentin Tarantino in Berlin and is moving the clan there. Score Germany!

I know that the rest of the blog post will be moot after that news, but there are some more updates in our life here. On Friday we go home(s) for 2 weeks for primarily the State Fair, and secondarily to see friends and family. I'm dreaming of the Midway. The last week has been a revolving door at our apartment as we've been showing it to possible renters. Showing your apartment abroad is like going to war. You have to lie to the public (yes, a washing machine fits in the bathroom!) to keep your approval ratings up. You also have to deal with foreigners whose culture you don't understand (cue Japanese man who refused to walk on our Ikea carpet with his shoes on). It's intense.

Trying to be post-race

I have a new class of 4 teenagers every Tuesday night. They are in Gymnasium, which is like smart kid's high school, and taking English. Their parents are making them take extra English lessons with me, and on the first Tuesday they told me they didn't want to be there. 'Chore' was the word they used to describe why they were there. They also told me they did not like reading, writing, playing games, doing grammar worksheets or watching films (?!) in English. They gave me a lot to work with.

Anyway, all four students were born in Korea but raised in Germany (parents got transfered here) and thus are perfectly bilingual and great with languages. I thought that this sort of biculturalism would make them different than most Germans who answer my getting-to-know you question 'What kind of music do you like?' with the dreaded 'Black people music.'

Yes, that's actually what Germans, and the Korean teenagers, say if they listen to any music produced in America. I am always a little stunned by this response. I don't think I would ever win a politically correct award, but c'mon? If there is one cultural area where race blurs it's in music. 'Black' music is rock n roll, jazz, rap, hip-hop, soul... all music also performed by whites, Asians, and Latinos. It's coming up on 50 years since Elvis ''stole'' black music.. I mean, if these kids liked to watch movies I'd play them ''8 Mile.''

Anyway, yesterday I thought I would outsmart them and get them to see for themselves how ludicrous (Ludacris!) it is to racially define music. Like a dork, I brought in pictures of Jimi Hendrix and Prince (black rock), and also German rappers Fettes Brot (white rap) and had them descripe what type of music each performer played. They looked at Fettes Brot and said 'Black music,' they looked at prince and said 'Black music.' Then I went into a long-winded monologue about how it's imporatnt to be color blind, and post-race, and how it's wrong of the German press to always call Obama the ''new black Kennedy,'' instead of just, ''the new Kennedy,'' but I lost them. After I came up for air, I noticed that all four were texting under the table.

Next week I'm making them do grammar worksheets.

The Magnificent 7

The Olympics are here, and even though it sucks having to watch German athletes featured on TV I am glued to the coverage in Beijing (Peiking). Michael Phelps has already stunned me, and I can't wait for gymnastics qualifying to start later today.

I am a loyal Olympics watcher, and do not discriminate between winter and summer games. For me, the most formative Olympics were Atlanta, summer 1996. I was 11 years old. It was during these games, when my parents allowed me to bring the kitchen TV into my bedroom, that I watched the Magnificent 7 take the USA's first gold in team gymnastics. Those little munchkins were such freaks of nature, but man, with their hair glitter, ankle injuries, and "Devil Went Down to Georgia" floor routines, I became obsessed.

Dominique Dawes, Moceanu, Amy Chow, Keri Strug, Shannon Miller (the best!), Jacey Phelps, and Amanda Borden.

And of course you had Bela Karolyi coaching and Svetlana Khorkina competing for the Russians. She was that tall, old blond girl who always looked like she was going to cry.

I am not a hiker

Sorry for the delay... with working extra hours whilst colleagues are on vacation and trying to clean our apartment for showings, I've had little time to update the blog.

It's August in the 'Furt which means back to school. These poor Europeans only get 6 weeks of summer and each of Germany's 16 states has staggered vacation schedules so as not to clog the Autobahns wit traveling families. School started in Hessen, my state, yesterday. I love riding the U-bahns with kids again. A) Their backpacks are so bright, square and colorful, I love coveting them. B) Sitting next to a clean 9 year old is infinitely more pleasing at 8 a.m. than a a homeless person drinking a beer.

On Friday the last weekend of summer was celebrated in the 'Furt by a street fair on the Main. It was fun, but nothing compared to my beloved Fair. The food at a typical German streetfest leans a little too far to the "salty dry goods' right for me. Plenty of popcorn and toasted nuts, but nary a French fry/cheese curd stand/milkshake stand.

Saturday saw me attempting to be sportlich by hiking in the Bergstrasse, a beautiful wine-growing region south of Germany that features vineyard-lined mountains and cute towns. We climbed up the Starkberg in Heppenheim. The climb was steep and at the top there was a castle. Castles are so disappointing in sunlight: They look old and bleached, nothing remotely Vampire-ish about them. I'm getting jaded: Once you live in a country where castles are every few kilometers, it's hard to get jazzed. Heppenheim was also hosting a Krewe a rite of passage in the small villages of the Odenwald. Town boys, 16 and up, get together for a big drinking fest. The Bergstrasse is very "Deliverance."

We also visited Rimbach and Weinheim before returning to the big city.

The life boat

I really love television.

I loved it before I moved abroad but recently I realized how much deeper my love has grown in light of the expat experience. Don't get me wrong, I still think books do more for my brain and thanks to at least an hour on subways per day I go through many a Bildungsroman (German word!) but this post sings the prises of the boob tube.

Telvsion DVDs are life boats for ex-pats, especially ones like me who just can't handle watching "Two and a Half Men" dubbed in German. Erik agrees and so luckily I've had a partner in crime. Since January we've watched:

Heroes: Season 1
Veronica Mars: Season 1
Mad Men: Season 1
Entourage: Seasons 1 and 2
Californication: Season 1
24: Season 6

Clearly the winner here is Mad Men, and thanks to itunes we can purchase season 2's episode each week. The writing, the ad campaigns, the style, that horribly sad moment when Peggy tries to do the Twist with Pete... this show can't be beat. Others were less than stellar, including Heroes (screw the cheerleader) and Entourage Season 1.

Should I be embarrassed that this is pushing 100 hours of TV?

No, I live in Germany for gosh sake's. What else am I supposed to do?

Pics from Amsterdam

Better late than never... look at our cool beer, and cheese, and canals!

Obama ist gekommen

The Obama speech just happened, and the political pundits are doing the analysis on German N24, our CNN.

200,000 people stood in the Tiergarten between the Siegesaeule (the gold tower under which Obama stood) and the Bradenberg Gate. Obama came on after about 15 minutes of "Yes We Can!" chants and then began his 35 minute speech. It was the largest crowd Obama has every spoken in front of.

The Germans were spilling the purple Kool-Aid all over themselves.

And why not? Obama came out like "ein Popsuperstar" and managed to be both thoroughly fawning ("If any city knows hope... it's Berlin") and stars-and-stripey (thanks for the Wikihistory of the Airlift!) He laid the foundation for asking for more troops in Afghanistan, then softened the blow with a call to end nuclear weaponry. He even managed to squeeze in a future reference about Iran and get cheers..... largely because the comment was sandwiched in between laments over melting ice caps. The speech was full of these one-two sweet contradictions and through it all the crowd cheered at appropriate pauses. Over and over again Obama kept bringing up the friendship between America and Europe, the friendship, nay, partnership that began in our fair Hauptstadt.

But still, I would be a liar if I didn't say I thought that speech was cool, and even more cool because it was in a city that defines cool, that manages to be hip and sad at the same time (hip+sad= cool). And Obama is certainly the coolest man we've ever had run for president: According to my latest perusing of people.com, he's taking his daughter to see "WALL-E" for her birthday. That's pretty cool.

I still may be protesting no thirst when the paper cup is passed my way, but I won't deny coolness. Besides, McCain recently admitted that he won't use e-mail. Brother is old, and if there's one thing America has taught the world: Old is not cool.

Amsterdam

Sorry for the delay in blogging, but I was in Amsterdam this last week with my friend Courtney.

I had always wanted to go to Amsterdam because it used to be the traditional NWA portal into Europe, and I often wished I could get out at Schipol and go see the city when flights were delayed. Courtney and I took the train this time, and it is only about a 4 hour trip, with a transfer in Cologne, to the capital of the Netherlands.

The Dutch are an amazingly friendly and happy people, and most stereotypes about them prove pleasantly true: They are prodigious bike riders. They are tall, blond, and most embody the quality of being "ruddy-cheeked." They like cheese and beer. They speak better English than the characters on The Hills.

In all, they were friendly hosts, and far from feeling like I was in some moral danger zone, I felt like I was in Europe's most water-drenched, un-bombed, gem of a city.

It rained most our trip, but, aside from an obligatory canal boat ride, most Amsterdam activities can be done in doors. The Van Gogh museum and the Anne Frank House were amazing. The entrance line at the Frank house wraps around the block consistently, so any visitor has to wait an hour minimum-- but it's worth it. The building is haunting but subtle, and really moving. We especially enjoyed the excited preteens (many Amis) roaming the premises with a keen interest, surely developed after a recent reading of The Diary of a Young Girl. The Van Gogh museum meets expectations, and I learned that Vincent shot himself in the chest! What? I always thought he died of consumption/syphilis! Did other people know this?

We wanted to go on the Heineken brewery tour, but they were renovating, so instead we capitalized on a dry two hour block to board the "Lover's" boat tour. Oddly named, but fun. I am a sucker for any and all boat tours, especially when they show me weird things, like these hooks that Amsterdaminan row houses have on the top window to hoist furniture into the steep buildings. I love those tidbits.

Besides sight-seeing, Courtney and I enjoyed the food and drink of the city. Amsterdam is a pancake city, and we had both sweet and savory for non-breakfast meals. We also had little pancakes coated in a magic butter and sugar sauce. They are called Poffertijes, and they are probably laced with heroin.

And finally: We discovered the best bar on earth. Seriously, the bartenders tell you exactly what to drink, they only carry Belgium and Dutch beers on tap (over 200 types in bottle) and they serve your drinks with Dutch cheese. I can't even begin to share how cool this place is, but here is the website.

http://www.cafegollem.nl/

Obama ist mein Fuehrer

This was a t-shirt I saw the other day walking down the Fressgasse. A large German man was stretching the cotton to unseemly proportions but there it was: Obama's face with the phrase "Obama is my leader" emblazoned under it.

The Germans (and most Europeans) began their love affair with "Der Schwarze Kennedy" (the black Kennedy) almost a year ago, and many of my students brought up Obama's upcoming campaign stop to the Fatherland in class this week.

If I were a German, I would have a little resentment towards Obama's campaign bringing its "Yes we can!" patriotism to my country (Obama will be in Berlin on the 24th). I get the whole global village idea but don't Germans see the brassy attitude displayed in this visit? Obama is saying, "Hey Deutschland, pay attention because I may be the president in a few months and we all know your lives are dictated by that possibility." It's a little brash. But what's even more brash is Obama's presumptive choice of speech locale: the Bradenberg Gate. Long a symbol of the Cold War and made famous by Reagan's "Mr. Gorbachev, take down this wall bit" in 1987, the Gate is arguably the most important public space in Germany. So why do our candidates get to make stump speeches there? Isn't this event, with its pomp, publicity, and sound exactly what they don't like about us?

Some Germans, like Angie, agree with me. But others raise an interesting counter-argument: America helped save Berlin, so the Gate is as much our symbol as anyone else's. What's interesting is that this pro-America argument is coming from the left... would they be so willing to lend the candidate their backdrop if he was associated with "Mr Bush?" It's also coming from Berlin's mayor, a man who looks at a very poor, underpopulated city and probably sees Obama's visit as a ka-ching, ka-ching photo op.

I asked my students their opinions and they welcomed the use of the Gate. Again, they said that it's hard for them not to see Berlin as a proxy American city, so why not? Plus, they said, Obama is so young. And his wife is so stunning. And he has two little girls. And, he's not Bush. They've got a crush on Obama.

In Other Berlin-Ami news, the new American embassy opened up on July, 4. George Bush Sr. (who the Germans like), was in attendance. The embassy is located right next to the Gate, in the most prime real estate in the city: 100 yards away from the Reichstag, 50 feet from the former wall, 100 feet from the Murdered Jews monument, and half a block away from that hotel where MJ dangled his baby.

Read this article about Obama in Deutschland:
http://www.dw-world.de/dw/article/0,2144,3473664,00.html

Mistaken Identity

Even though soccer ended last week I can't get over how much the Portugal coach looked like Gene Hackman. In fact, I think it was Hackman, "Hoosiers" style.

Happy 4th of July!

Nothing is more depressing than celebrating a national holiday in a foreign land.

Yesterday was the 4th of July and even though I made all my students learn holiday vocab ("parade," "sparklers," "stars and stripes") no one was really excited. The Germans aren't too big on national holidays and understandably so: Their country day is Oct. 3, Reunification Day of East and West. Too bad Reunification didn't actually happen on Oct. 3. Most argue that Reunification day is Nov. 9, 1989 when the Wall came down. But Nov. 9, 1938 was Kristallnacht, the night of broken glass when Nazis attacked synagogues and Jewish businesses...so, Oct. 3 it is.

This week has been major for our lives here in Germany. I got permission/acceptance to become a Gaststudentin at the Johann Wolfgang von Goethe Univeristaet starting next semester! I will be taking Master's seminars in Americanistik and I even have an academic adviser named Bernd. Bernd rocks. He's obsessed with the idea of American space and the Western frontier. I went in for a meeting with him and he had sickeningly good English. Granted, he lived in Boston for 4 years, but he actually said stuff like "No problemo," and "Man, hot enough for you?"

We also found a perfect new apartment, with.... drumroll... an OVEN! It's also in a much better neighborhood, Sachsenhausen, and it's in a pre-war Altbau house. And it has a bay window. I can't get too excited since we still have to get approved by the landlords but I am jazzed for the potential move.

While Courtney and I were at our regular quiz pub on Thursday evening something sweet happened, and I guess it sort of embodied the spirit of Independence Day one day early. We were sitting and a group of Germans started talking to us. A woman at the table asked where we were from and when we said Minnesota she exclaimed, "I knew it!" Turns out, she spent 1986-87 living in Hastings, and she said our accents made her "feel at home," which is just about the nicest complimet you can give a person. Then, she started talking about her Homer Hanky and Kirby Puckett. It is a small, America-dominated world after all.

Que Triste, Vienna Calling

We lost. After beating Turkey, Portugal and Poland we (and by "we" I mean, Germans, which means the people I live near but don't really talk to) lost the Euro 2008 to Spain.

Boring 'ol Spain.

Que triste. Maybe if this was 1492 or 1936, I'd be thinking "whoa, Spain, watch out," but instead I was snoozing. The game was neither political nor all that tense and I wish Schweinsteiger or Podolski had saved some of their sparkle for the later games. Oh well.

We watched the last two games of the tournament underneath a bridge on the Main. A beer garden with a white screen, benches, and a drinks hut was set up over abandoned train tracks. It was a great public viewing crowd: not too rowdy but ready to cheer at appropriate times. For both Wednesday's game and tonight's game the weather was a perfect 80 degrees and sunny, and looking out onto the river I felt so lucky to be able to live in a country with open bottle laws.

So no more soccer. This will be a big hole in my life. For the last three weeks there was always something to talk to strangers about, something to watch on TV, something to drink to. Sports are the great equalizers, the great national conversations. Tonight, Frau Merkel, or as I call her, Angie, was cheering in the stadium in Vienna, surely not more than 50 yards away from someone with their chest in grease paint and a German flag-colored afro. Soccer is enjoyed by both presidents and plebeians.

Childless Europe

The NYTimes magazine is on a role for me. Last week, Mad Men, and this week, "No Babies?" exploring the "lowest-low fertility rates" in modern Europe. This topic never fails to intrigue me...

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/06/29/magazine/29Birth-t.html?_r=1&oref=slogin

Mediocre at best

Yesterday, my favorite student, the one who I have three times per week kept saying "childs" instead of "children," and all I could think is, "I have failed you."

I have been teaching for over 5 months, living here for over 6, and sometimes I feel like I am not improving my language acquisition or the language acquisition of others. I feel like things are a bit stagnant and I wonder if I have officially left my honeymoon period with Germany. Sure, football (big game Wednesday!) still keeps the flame burning, but maybe Germany and I need to work harder on our relationship. Maybe the problem is summer, or the fact that the charm of living in an apartment without an oven has worn off.

I've been trying to liven up my lesson plans, making my own Taboo cards (try to get people to say "Titanic" without using "ship," 'iceberg," "accident," "Leo," or "movie") and using provocative National Geographic photos (young Asian women with guns! Snow Leopards!) to work on description and vocab, but I'm afraid it's a losing battle. My students still say "become" when they mean "get" and "meaning" when the mean "opinion."* And my own German is poop. I've reached a plateau where I can understand 80% more than what I can speak and I can never remember the verb I need in a conversation.

But for all the bloggy complaints there are some major improvements in my life. Namely, we got a coffee maker, and I've resumed a regimen of arm-pumping fitness walking with my friend Courtney. Today we walked by what was clearly a "males only" section on the banks of the Main river. I saw a 65 year-old man in a red thong bikini bottom. He was lying about on his stomach, waving his feet in the air like a little coquette. It was my daily high.

I am EAGERLY awaiting Season 2 of "Mad Men." OH MY GOD PEGGY!!!!

* These are what we call "false friends" in the language world. In German, the verb to get/receive is bekommen, so when Germans often say "become" when they mean "get." Same goes for the German word meinung, which means "opinion" but sounds like "meaning." Tricky business.

Germany in the Final Four!

Goddamn I love the drama of sports! In fact, I haven't felt so jazzed about a game since my senior year of high school when the Twins were in the pennant race...

Anyway, Germany played a marvelous 3-2 game against Portugal on Thursday and it was so thrilling. The Portuguese players are such Lacy Lovelaces: Rolling around on the ground when a German brushed up against them, covering their mouths in agony at the mere appearance of a cleat, etc. Thank goodness the Germans weren't distracted, they finally played a cohesive game. Then last night the game to determine our halb-finale partner was played: Turkey vs. Croatia. It was an utterly boring game, no score after 90 mins, but then Croatia scored, then Turkey scored, and then they had to go into a shoot out. Turkey won, and it was one of the more exciting victories I have ever seen! There are over 8 million Turks living in Germany and thus the street celebrations after the game were insane: Fireworks, flags, drums, Mediterranean pubescents with beer.

Other news pales in comparison to soccer, but we had a visitor in my mother this week. It was so good to have family here, but the weather was scheisse and there's only so much to do in the 'Furt. We went to the gorgeous botanical gardens, the Palmengarten. Unfortunately, this trip was made after seeing "The Happening." I am so afraid of plants.

My other highlight of the week was going to an art opening with Katie We were so out of place, seeing that our main goal was to sample every free dessert and appetizer they were offering. The event was for a new modern photography exhibit at the Staedel called "Warhol malt night," (Warhol doesn't paint). The photos were great but what was even better was the entertainment. A dashing man in a black suit and jaunty white hat played the piano. He sang really cheesy songs, like "Night Fever," in this jazzy, sexy way. I piked up his card after the event, and his name was printed as "Dr. Feelgood Jr." I kid you not.

Katie left for NYC today, I am too sad to write anymore.

Warning: dirty article

Germany is so racy. I see this book in the store everyday and I like its Band-Aid on the cover. My friend Kerry sent me this link because it uses my favorite phrase, "national conversation." Yes!

Read this:

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/06/06/world/europe/06taboo.html?scp=10&sq=wetlands&st=nyt

EM Fever

I thought I didn't like soccer. Or rather, I never gave soccer a chance because I assumed that it was a sport only to be enjoyed by those who at one time or another experienced a political dictatorship. But I'm wrong, I do like soccer, and even I wouldn't call Jesse "The Body" a diktator.

On Saturday the European Championship begin. Europe's 16 best national teams play each other in brackets of 4 over the course of 3 weeks, winnowing down to a final game. So far, there are two games (each bracket) played per night.

I am rooting for Germany, but only marginally. The Swedish fans wear very funny little hats with blue feathers, and I feel my loyalties pulling me northward. Anyway, what I like about these games is what I like about the Olympics or the World Series: They contribute to a national conversation, nay, a continental conversation that takes place on the streets. On Sunday I was alone at home during the Germany game and before I turned on the TV I heard my entire neighborhood burst into cheer. The Germans had scored, and a mere open street-facing window told me that! How great.

Besides soccer, this past week has been exciting because my great friends Ben and Megan came to visit us in the 'Furt. They were the easiest guests to have, and not only did they bring up Oreos and Real Simple magazine, they brought Cribbage. I am walking around saying "15 for 2."

Must go watch soccer.

Feist and MFAs

Summer is officially here in Frankfurt and the city is hopping, well, in a Frankfurt-y sort of way. the Fressgasse, the main "eat street" of the 'Furt is having a food and wine fest all week with bands, outdoor seating, etc. I went there this weekend and had some delicious strawberiies in Appelwoi and listened to a really, really, heavily accented German sing "Sittin' On the Dock of the Bay." Please Germans, leave soul music alone.

On Sunday I saw Feist at the Jarhuderthalle concert hall with all of four of my friends. It was a good concert. feist was weird as ever, dressed like Stevie Nicks, white fringe and all. Her voice sounded great and she amused the crowd with some anecdotes about her years living in Berlin. One hilaroius/distracting/too-cute-for-indie-words note: Feist's version of a pyrotechnic show was to have some girls finger paint on a large projector behind the stage. They finger painted waves and hearts. It was something a two-year old could do, but my friend Courtney was probably right when she whispered to me, "These girls probably have MFAs." Their poor parents.


Obama crazy here this morning, he is on the cover of every German newspaper and all over the news screens in the train stations. I'm so glad that he's won the nomination because I cannot explain to my students anymore about the difference between primaries and caucuses.

I have visitors this week! More updates soon.

Peiking snooze

I overestimated German's excitement about the upcoming Olympic games. And by overestimated, I simply mean I thought that the Germans might actually muster up a little umlauted buzz about the games. I thought that they would have some sort of TV personality like Bob Costas covering the events, and maybe his name would be Helmut Spitter or something. I thought that I would be constatly seeing commercials for Olympics coverage and hear beer-soaked German Olympic cheers spring forth from crowded sports bars. But alas, I hear and see nothing. In fact, the only excitement I see about Beijing comes from the discarded McDonalds' cups lining the U-Bahn track.


But now I know why. Some German students looked at me quizically the other day when I mentioned the big games. ''Beijing?'' they asked. I told them it was the Olympic city, and the said, ''Oh, you mean Peiking!.'' How can I teach these people prepositions when we can't even agree on a common name for China's second largest city?

I was under the impression that Germans ate up athletic competitions, espcially the geopolitical kind. The country hosted the two most politically significant games (Belin '36, Munich '72) and just played host to the 2005 World Cup (ugh, I hate myself for even mentioning fußball on my blog. yuck.) But these are buzz-resistant people.

It is hot here. Like 90 degrees and really humid, feuch, and all of the little German Eis Cafes (ice cream parlors) sell one scoop for € 0.80. It's the one affordable thing in this town.

Back from Berlin

Just got back from six days in Berlin, surely the best city in continental Europe. Where else can you see men in puple leggings pushing strollers through the ruins of socialism? Erik and I went there last week because we had even more archaic Christian holidays to celebrate, and we met Erik's brother in the big city.

We did all sorts of really touristy stuff. We walked down the Unter den Linden towards the Reichstag, visited Checkpoint Charlie, and went to the Pergamon museum.

The two highlights of the trips though were decidedly ''un-Berlin'' moments. The first came on Thursday night when we scalped tickets to see Vampire Weekend at Maria's, a river-side rock club in the industrial area by the Ostbanhof. The people watching, especialy the American college kids who were trying their hardest to look German, was spot-on at this club.

The second event was our attempt to see the new ''Indiana Jones'' in English. There are plenty of English theaters in Berlin, so when we looked online and saw that it was playing at a place called the Babylon, we felt optimistic. We asked a waiter where the Babylon was and he gave us clear directions that led us to the theater after 20 mins on the U-Bahn. Too bad it was the wrong Babylon. Turns out there was an East and a West Babylon theater. We raced to the other one and were only 10 mins late. Indy was waiting for us.

Now it's back to work in the 'Furt.

My best students like Monty Python and...

... are never Germans. Lately, I've realized it's Turkish and Polish/Russian students who are the most willing to participate in class, review vocab, and actually try to learn English. I don't know what accounts for this. Perhaps because English is their third or fourth language these students are more relaxed about the learning process; they don't get frustrated if challenged with difficult reading or do poorly on a quiz. But with Germans it's another story; I've had so many run-ins/disagreements with really great adult German students who complain about how slow their language skills are improving. I try to explain that even with 90 minutes per week they have to devote a lot of free time to English is they really want to perfect it. They have none of this, they have "no time." That's fine, but then don't blame me if you forget the meaning of "exception."

Anyway, I had an uplifting moment on Tuesday with one class, a group of architects, many of whom are Russian or Polish. They only have three sessions left and so I asked them what they would like to do for their last month of class last week. Their answer: Watch "Monty Python" clips with a native speaker so they can understand the nuances of "the Flying Circus." I thought they were kidding but when I came to class on Tuesday I found a movie projector in the conference room and one student passing out hand-transcribed scripts to the group. It was so fun! They were laughing so hard at "Story Time," especially when I explained the dirty stuff about transvestites in British sea ports. And I had an extra proud moment explain that SPAM is manufactured in Austin, MN. This was a class that already knew (from my raving) that MN was also the birthplace of Post-It Notes. They were doubly impressed.

I am not a dedicated blogger

To all 3 of my dedicated readers: Sorry for the absence!

I wish I could say the last 10 days have been filled with adventure or travels, and thus I couldn't find time to blog. But, alas, I was simply in the 'Furt feeling the malaise of summer and not doing a whole lot of anything.

A few updates:

Last weekend we went to IKEA and bought a couch! Yes! No more air mattress for us. The chenille moss-colored Sofabett is a real treat, and that coupled with my new straw place settings really made the hellish 5 hour trek to the Swedish store worth it. Thinking about it, I wonder if I could actually get to Sweden in 5 hours and go to the original IKEA outpost. In the 'Furt, for the car-less, the journey is never-ending because one must rely on 3 forms (U-bahn, train, bus) of public transportation.

In addition to the couch, we got locked out of our apartment on Wednesday and Erik had to jump from our neighbor's balcony, Indiana Jones-style, to our balcony in order to crawl through the open window. This "adventure" also took 5 hours (most of them filled with the sweat-drenched consultations on the remove-ability of our door knob with our Czech manlord), which leads me to develop a new theory that everything in Europe takes 5 hours. Note: Never stick your keys on the inside of your door in Europe and then proceed to shut said door while asking "Do you know where my keys are?"

Finally, my work schedule has been pleasantly spotty due to the 3 Feiertage, or public holidays, in May. Because of these off days (one being this Monday) many students plan vacations to Spain or Miami in May. Germans love to travel to Spanish-speaking lands. This is an unfortunate fixation because nothing sounds worse than a German trying to pronounce the soft melodies of the Spanish language. Nothing.

Speaking of the Spanish language, last night Ms. Henly had a Cinco de Mayo fiesta in Sachsenhausen. My homemade guac just made me pine for Chipotle even more. *Sigh.

It's 80 degrees here and way too many German men are wearing tank tops on the U-Bahn.

Munich is so much more...

...than that super creepy sex scene in Spielberg's epic of the same name.

Last weekend I went down to Germany's golden city with my friend Courtney because Erik was working down there. It was so fun, and was the most beautiful stop on my April 2008 tour of Gross Germania.

Munich looks more like an Italian city than anything else. Although we bombed 80 % of it, the reconstruction efforts (led by Americans, dirt off our collective shoulders) were spectacular. Most buildings look like they were part of the original beer-brewing Monks' designs, and the city squares are clean and always protected my big golden lions. Because Munich was/is Bavaria's capital and home to its royal family, the city is dotted with gorgeous gardens and palaces. From the Residenz to the Nymphenberg Castle, the city oozes charm.

It also oozes beer.

This too was a highlight of the trip. Beer, beer everywhere and many drops to drink. The Biergarten is the greatest cultural contribution Munich has given the world, and I could not believe the amount of people at the Chinesiche Turm in the Englischer Garten on a Saturday's dusk (The Garden is bigger than Central Park and three times the size of Hyde). It was a party. Throw in a couple of Butterbreze (pretzels sliced like bagels and spread with melted butter in the middle) and you've got the happiest place on earth.

We took a really great Mike's Bike Tour, ate Weiswurst at the Hofbrohaus, saw the monument to Hans and Sophie Scholl, sat on the beaches of the Isar river, shopped the food markets, walked the grounds of the castle and saw the awesome exhibits at the Moderne Pinakothek , Munich's newest art museum. We stayed at a great youth hostel, and although it was crowded with hyper Italian teens*, it was pretty snazzy as hostels go.

Check for pictures later tonight, when I figure out how to download them.

* I'm in the process of developing a theory on Italian teens. I think they go through hyper adolescence: They are the most loud, the most outrageously dressed, the most curiously coiffed, and the most flirtatious of any teen group in the world. Note, this theory is largely being based on my one stay at the youth hostel, but seriously, I've never seen such teens. And the girls! There may have been a handful of super beautiful girls in my high school at 15, but most of us were (still am) awkward-looking. Not Italian girls! They all look like 28 year-old Art Gallery personnel.

The neurotic city

Last week Erik and I joined Flash Video, our neighborhood rental place. It is possibly the most ghetto rental spot in all of the 'Furt. It operates out of a corner in an abandoned office building, and when you walk in you see the owner's senile father sitting in a lawn chair, laughing and watching a dubbed version of "The Kingdom," or "Cheaper By the Dozen 2." The owner only comes out after a few tense minutes. He's like the Wizard when he pops out from behind an old- fashioned counter and says "Guten Abend!" which I hear as, "Well that's a horse of a different color!" Needless to say, I've never ventured to Flash Video alone.

But, alas, we need to rent movies sometimes, so we go. Besides Grandad, Flash's most distinguishing feature is its absolute chaos. DVDs are arranged in no order, and you can find "Raising Helen" in New Releases (that movie came out in like, 2004) next to "The Birds." Sometimes kids movies are mixed in with adult features and there is whole wall of super-duper-ultra-violent PS2 games.

We rented "American Gangster" last night and as Erik was paying I looked at the titles and noted how poorly some translated into German. My favorite was a copy of "Annie Hall," which was renamed "Die Stadtneurotiker." Or the Neurotic City. Germans take everything, including Woody Allen, way too literally.

But Rose is not real...

Earlier this week I went with Henly to the train station. I wanted to purchase my ticket for Munich, and I needed Henly in case the German got fancy and I accidentally ought myself a ticket to Moscow.

The ticket purchasing was going well. Our "consultant" was your typical Deutsche Bahn worker: He had a noticeable lazy eye. When he asked for my identification, I whipped out my MN driver's license and he smiled and asked us:

"Minnesota, aber nicht St. Olaf, oder?" Which means, "Minnesota, but not St. Olaf, right?"

To which we replied:

"Doch! Ja, St. Olaf!" Which means, "No, you're wrong, yes St. Olaf!"

And then he said what every Oles fears the most, that is, not a comment on our wonderful choir, but the inevitable reminder of our sitcom past:

"Ich mag Golden Girls." Which means, "I like the Golden Girls."

I didn't even know of the GG St. Olaf connection until I was well into my freshman year. Apparently, the Rose character (Betty White? Not the slutty Blanche lady, this show was not on my Nick at Nite roundup) was a farm girl from Iowa and went to St. Olaf. And not surprisingly, GG was popular in Germany, popular enough that our DB consultant told us he even googled St. Olaf to make sure it was real. He found our school website, but then solemnly reminded us that Rose didn't actually attend.

"Ja... wir wissen." Which means, "Yeah... we know."

Where's the shrapnel?

In Switzerland they had 500 years of democracy and peace, and what did that produce? The cuckoo clock.
-Orson Welles

So. I'm in the middle of my April travels across Germania, i.e. Central Europe, and just finished a three-day stint in the heart of Switzerland: Bern.

Here's what you need to know about Bern:
-It's language is German, but it's used in a crazy sing-songy way that makes all speakers sound like Medieval toddlers.
-The city is obsessed with brown bears, and houses two in a city zoo/monument called the Bärengraben.
-Movies shown here are are shown in OV (original version) but subtitled in both French and German... and in the middle of all movies there is an intermission! And not a nice paused intermission; just a regular slash job in the center reel.
- They have gourmet samples at their grocery stores on Saturday. We're talking silver ware, porcelain cups, etc., a far cry from a Dixie cup of Shasta and a toothpick skewered piece of cheddar cheese.

...And that's about it. Because Switzerland has so proudly been a peacefully state for over 600 years, there isn't a ton of passion, strife, or turmoil in its history, and cities like Bern show this permanent calm. None of the gorgeous middle ages sandstone was pockmarked with shrapnel and there were no monuments marking deportations, annexations, or general aggravations. It was nice.

But like most things that are nice and clean, Bern was a little boring. On Friday Erik and I celebrated his birthday with a tradition Swiss meal of Roesti (a pot of hashbrowns, vegetables, etc, baked with cheese on top) and then walked along the river Aar. On Saturday, we window shopped among the Brunnen (public fountains) of Bern, and found my new all-time favorite grocery chain: Vatter's (father's). See picture for sample info. Then we saw two films "Lars and the Real Girl" and "Once." I love capitalizing on OV movies.

On Sunday we went to the art museum of Bern and then to the famous bar pits. The weather was a balmy 65 degrees and it was the first time in months that we could eat outside. From there we caught one of the hourly shows of the Zytglogge, the famous cuckoo clock in the town center, before catching our train back north. We got back into the 'Furt on Sunday night and I looked at the ugly parts of my city with a new appreciation. At least we got some character.

Pictures!

Holy Crap, I have to get disciplined about updating photos. Get ready for your eyeballs to explode... I'll go chronologically, beginning with my family's trip to the 'Furt.

From top: The beautiful Roemerburg in the heart of the 'Furt. Emily and Joe doing Down Dog to combat jet lag. Jen yucking it up with some Riesling.

Berlin Baby

So this weekend took a group of Oles and assorted others to Berlin to watch Katie Henly run in Germany's largest half-marathon. It was the time of my life (that gets punny later in the blog entry.)

So Katie, John Morrow (living in France) and our token Brtish friend Catherine (diversity!) piled into a taxi cab-yellow rental car and left the 'Furt on Friday afternoon. We made it about 35 mins. before we realized we were going the wrong way, and once we found the right Autobahn, we were caught in some crazy Friday traffic. But! We ended up making friends on the Autobahn. Perhaps Germans feel friendly cameraderie when they are protected in their wagens, but there was plenty of window-down direction sharing going on on the A7. At one point some blonde chicks even asked us if we were going to Hamburg. They were looking to party.

The drive to Berlin should take 5 hours, but it took us 8. I only threatened to kill people once.

Once we got to the big B, things started rocking. We went to Zapatas for drinks and Da Da for fallafels at midnight and did some necessary drinking at the Siblerfisch bar. On Saturday, Katie gave us a professional tour of Berlin, reliving her summer career as a tour guide for the New Berlin outfit. She was spectacular: Surprising us with tidbits, pointing out where Katarina Witt lived in the DDR times, even making a 'fall of the Wall' story moving by mentioning that ''Dirty Dancing'' was playing on Nov. 9, 1989. We saw ecverything on our 4 hour tour, including Hitler's bunker, the memorial to Europe's murdered Jews, and the hotel where Michael Jackson hung his baby out of the window. I was so unprepared for how everchanging the landscape in Berlin was/is. I had last been there four years ago and it looked like a completley different city, although some things (the TV tower, the punky squats, the prostitutes wearing fanny packs) remained blissfully unchanged.

On Sunday was the big run and it was so much fun!!! We made signs, we yelled loud American things, we got stares from Germans on the route.... but it didn't matter! Katie did not die and in fact finished well within her goal time. It was inpiring.

Mad Men

This blog doesn't generally veer into pop culture territory, which is a pity. This is mostly because I feel pretty removed from pop culture -- especially movies here -- and besides my weekly session at comingsoon.net to watch movie trailers, and my near-religious devotion to Germany's Next Top Model, I remain entertainment-free. I usually hate people like me, people who claim to ''not care'' about movies or those who say they ''don't really watch TV.'' Those people seem pretentious and are usually not very funny. They also don't read nearly as many books as they claim to.

So, I was really late to the party with Mad Men, the stylish drama about ad execs (''Madison Ave. Men'') in 1960. After reading about how the show, in its first season, won the Golden Globe, I decided to watch some episodes illegally... they were amazing. No other show has such sharp writing, inspired set design, or a light-handed touch with nostaligia... I'm officially obsessed.

Other than discovering MM, I'm getting back to normal this week after having two weeks of DNA visitors. Erik and I miss our familes but we've kept busy planning our April travels. This weekend, I head to Berlin to watch Henly run in a (half) MARATHON, next weekend is Bern for E's birthday, and two weeks after that is München!

I am conquering Germania.