Home-grown terrorism!

I hate not being in America for awards' season. As someone who makes a point to see all nominated films and loves the Golden Globes, SAG and Academy Awards. I feel chagrined to have to go to people.com to see who won what. And though I didn't get to see "The Wrestler" or "The Reader" over Christmas, I plan to obtain them by illegal means before Feb. 22, Oscar night.*

And speaking of illegal means, you should all cheer for Germany to win Best Foreign Film for the Der Baader Meinhof Komplex. I hear France's, The Class is way better, but I highly recommend Germany's entry. BMK tells the story of the Red Army Faktion, or RAF, a group of home-grown terrorists who blew up federal buildings, bombed U.S. army bases and kidnapped government officials in West Germany from about 1968 to 1977. They were a motley crue, made up of radical students and some professionals who seemed to hate all things "Western," "American," "Fascist," "Capitalistic," or "Israeli."

Loosely organized in different cities, the RAF found their voice through writer Ulrike Meinhof (played awesomely by Martina Gedeck. She's also the star of The Lives of Others which won best foreign film in 2006. She can do no wrong.) Meinhof is a mother of two and left-leaning journalist when she joins the group in 1969, writing missives and getting them published in major magazines. She, along with the others, feel they must "go guerrilla" and "go towards guns," if they want to bring change to their country. What follows is not only a great political intrigue story, but also a very well-done action film that follows the RAF to Rome and Lebanon, Amsterdam and Berlin. It's a romp, full of guns, car chases and explosions. And while you never exactly sympathize with the RAF (it's pretty hard to get down with people who vaguely hate "the establishment") you see how the first post-war generation of Germans could have gone a little crazy. One member explains to a new recruit, very coldly, that he joined the RAF because he grew up in a house with a "Nazi for a father." We see that he means his father was both a tyrant and an actual member of the political party. It's a chilling moment, but one that director Uli Edel doesn't sentimentalize.

The movie is long, and can be a little confusing if you're not familiar with the RAF, so a quick google or nytimes.com search could help before viewing. RAF's most famous action is probably the hijacking of a Lufthansa plane in 1977. The plane landed in Mogadishu and produced the famous image of the plane captain's body being tossed out on the tarmac.


* My birthday is on Feb. 25. I have always loved that its around the following significant events: the Oscars, Ash Wednesday and the Winter Olympics.

Mrs. Cheapie

This week I have been taking note of my sudden frugality. I never before considered myself cheap, or worse, tight-fisted, but as I eyed a package of unopened toilette paper rolls at University on Thursday and actually considered stuffing them in my bag I realized by bargain-hunting just took a sharp turn towards theft.

Perhaps all the talk about the economy entered my psyche by osmosis. I don't have enough money to worry about the stock market, and I (fortunately? unfortunately?) don't have a mortgage or a car payment. I make enough money to live on and save some Euros each month, but since moving to Germany I have found myself saving socks with holes in them, reusing Ziplock bags, avoiding name-brand cereal and (worst of all) going to more matinées.

I hate matinées, the whole magic of the movies has to do with darkness, no daylight, etc. Even more, I hate the people who go to them looking to save a buck.

Yes the cost of living in Europe is much higher than in St. Paul, but personally that fact rings true for me because I can't eat my mom's food, watch my family's cable or trick my father into "checking" my car for gas (works every time). So maybe my life lesson here isn't that I'm cheap; it's that I used to be a major freeloader.

The Germans loved the inauguration. I was surprised it was on all the major networks here! Many students told me they loved the ceremony but were startled by the frequent mentioning of God. Whatever, heathens.

Viva Mexico

There are no good Mexican restaurants in Germany.*

Apparently, there's a decent one in Munich that ex-pats mention when they take personal offense to my critique ("And who cares if you can't get Mexican? Look at the health care system!") but I suspect it's an urban legend. And I do care that there's no place where I can consume 1,000 calories via sour cream and cheese in my urban dwelling. That's important to me.

So I was thrilled on Wednesday when E snuck us in to a press-only PR cooking party sponsored by the Mexican tourism offices in greater Germany. The premise: 15 journalists were invited to a test kitchen where we formed teams and then had a Mexican chef (who married a German man) lead us through the cooking and consuming of 9 dishes. We made tortillas from scratch, guacamole, mole, Cebiche, galletas, tequila spiked mangoes, and a bunch of other dishes I can't remember. I can't remember because the kind people of Mexico greeted us at the door with aprons and a glass of Winter punch, a rum concoction, followed by bottles and bottles of red wine. We arrived at 6:30 and crawled out of the facilities at midnight, fully stuffed and warmed by real Chipotle chilies. It was the best Mexican food I've ever had, but what was more fun was the fellowship experienced between E and I and the Mexicans. They immediately sniffed us out as Americans and then proclaimed, "We are the same!" and gave us hugs. They totally helped us cook more than the other teams and gave me a thumbs up when I, in typical American fashion, loudly ripped open a bag of chips at the start of my cooking (I was hungry, I saw something that looked like Tostitos). They also told me I needed a cast-iron tortilla maker. I made a note of it, because I take my Mexican food consumption, and my fellow Americans, very seriously.

*Germany has the following: Good Turkish food, good German food, good French food, good Italian food, good Japanese food. That's it.

I'm baaack in the 'Furt

I know you're all wondering...where is number 1? We're almost two weeks into the new year and I've already disappointed you. But fear not. I did not forget, I purposefully did not make a number one, because I have at least another 8-10 months in this country and surely the Germans will surprise me. I'm leaving room, exercising blog management if you will.

So maybe it will be Germans orderliness, punctuality or ways with cabbage... but I hope that it's something bold I haven't discovered yet.

I arrived back in the 'Furt yesterday after a hellish Delta experience. No personal TVs, no in-flight snacks and uncertain pilots ("Not sure if this brake light is serious but we're going to have to circle back to the gate" Um, thanks?) I was seated next to a man with very long hair en route to Sweden and Finland for a death metal tour. His band's name?: Hate Eternal. I just googled them and they are real and apparently quite popular in northern Europe. This guy was full of surprises. No. 1: He is a vegan. No. 2: His favorite TV shows is "Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives."

I was expecting our apartment to be cold since Russia cut off our gas supply. But it's not. Apparently we have reserves from the Netherlands. Thank God for Dutch!