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I had the most ridiculous of days on Thursday, and it’s taken me this long just to pull myself together enough to write about it. I don’t mean to be melodramatic, but I have honestly never experienced a day so full of mishaps and misunderstandings in my life.
I awoke with great anticipation of the day to come. You see, I had a meeting scheduled at the (wait for it) Landesverwaltungsamt – Zentrale Ausländerbehörde, in order to get my Visa (if you stay longer than 3 months without it, you get deported, so, just a bit important), and I was anxious to finally get it taken care of and no longer looming over my head. I set aside plenty of time to walk to the part of town in which I (as per Google) believed the office to be located (key word: believed). I couldn’t find it right away, but kept asking people to help me, and was a little unnerved but not entirely surprised when no one seemed to be familiar with the building; a fact which should have tipped me off that I had been led astray, but didn’t as I didn’t find it so unusual for German natives to have little to do with the foreigner office. After wandering around until about 10 minutes before my meeting was scheduled, I was finally directed to the fourth floor of some UNLABELED building (SO HELPFUL), and found myself in the office of a man who informed me that instead of being in the the office for foreigners, I was, in fact, in the financial office. Awesome. He was incredibly helpful, though, and called the woman with whom I had my meeting, and explained that I had gotten completely turned around but was still on my way. He was even kind enough to print out a map for me, directed me to the bus stop, told me which bus to take and explained where I needed to go and what I needed to do in order to get to the right office.
UNFORTUNATELY, on my way to the bus stop, I got confused once again, and ended up missing my bus by 2 minutes (it, naturally, only ran once every hour). At this moment, I realized that my phone was no longer working properly (it could send texts, but not make or receive calls), when I attempted to call the woman at the office and explain that I had, once again, been delayed. In the hour that I was sitting waiting for the bus and the half-hour bus trip through unfamiliar streets, I tried to pull my frazzled nerves together — almost successful. I arrived *somewhere* and after getting lost again (I’m basically a pro at not knowing where I am, and not getting to where I need to go), asking another 5 people where I was supposed to be going (with almost no success), I FINALLY arrived at the office, a mere 3 hours after my scheduled appointment. The meeting itself took less than 20 minutes (yay – I’m legal!), and after finding the train station to take me back home, I realized I was a mere TWO stops away (so, five minutes) from the main train station in Saarbrücken. OUTSTANDING. I’m SO glad it took me THIRTY-SIX times as long to get there as it needed to. Sorry, I have to type that again because I STILL CAN’T BELIEVE IT. THIRTY-SIX TIMES AS LONG.
All in all, then, I was more than a little frustrated with the morning’s adventures, but pulled myself together for Phonetik class and the rest of the day. Despite everything, I was still looking forward to the evening because the University was throwing a huge orientation party (unlike Hillsdale’s Welcome Party, this party had about 5,000 attendees), and I was invited to a Polish dinner party beforehand in Waldhaus. On the way to the dinner with Weronika and Monika, a black cat crossed in front of us, and we laughed about it LIKE THE FOOLISH, FOOLISH PEOPLE THAT WE ARE.
We had a really nice time at dinner — polish sausage, pierogi, and vodka (naturally) — and were just getting into the elevator to catch the bus to the party when the universe decided to play one last joke on me.
Nine of us (6 from my party, and 3 from another) had piled into elevator, and some brilliant person decided to start jumping to see what would happen. Well, folks, I’m sure to nobody’s surprise, the elevator got stuck and refused to budge any further, despite our fervent pleas. We called the emergency number, but in the next hour before the repairman came, the tiny, 5×6 feet box of death got warmer and warmer, and the air unbelievably close and suffocating. Two people passed out, and after my less than relaxing morning, I almost joined in the fun. Just because this is how the day was going, within the first minutes of getting stuck, for some unknown reason (I missed the first part of the conversation), one of the guys in the elevator loudly announced that he hated Americans. Fantastic. Seriously, feel free to tell me exactly how you really feel. Really. Don’t hold back on my account. By the end of our time in the elevator (so, a little more than an hour with no air, supporting two slack bodies, and stuttering our thanks to the guy who saved us), he so very graciously told me that I was now his favorite American. Now isn’t that the sweetest? If I hadn’t been on the verge of unconsciousness myself, I would have bitch-slapped (sorry, Mom and Dad) him upside the head right then and there and told him exactly where to stick his prejudiced opinions and backwards compliments. Bastard.
Now I’m going to run the risk of offending someone right now if he ends up reading this (I’m hoping not), but I have to tell you about the cherry on top of the sundae that was my day. The night before, I had met this guy at Heimbar, and gave him my number so we could hang out sometime in the future (in groups, because starting a relationship in Germany is about the least intelligent thing I could possibly do). I had already seen him on the bus on the way to Waldhaus (you can’t believe how small this city of approximately 200,000 can seem), and told him we were going to the party. After we had gotten stuck, he started texting, asking when we were going to arrive. I explained that we were trapped in an elevator and was unsure when we would get out, and after hesitating momentarily to ask what building we were in, sent me another 4 or so texts reminding me that he was waiting for me and continually asking when we would finally get there. Seriously, dude? I’m trying to remain conscious, support two fainting girls, and ward off attacks against America and YOU WANT TO KNOW WHAT TIME I’LL BE AT THE PARTY?! SORRY THAT ME GETTING TRAPPED IN AN ELEVATOR IS INCONVENIENT FOR YOU. I CLEARLY HAD THIS ALL PLANNED OUT IN ORDER TO SPITE YOU. He’s actually a really nice guy, but his timely was just spectacularly off.
We had obviously missed the bus at this point (it was naturally the last bus), but still decided to walk to the party (about 2 miles away, I’d say). I stayed for about 10 minutes before I simply couldn’t handle it anymore, and made my way home, vowed never to leave my room again and crashed.
Phew. Just writing about it all gets me flustered. I’m sure this experience will be amusing in a month or two, but at present, if anyone even mentions the date April 28, 2011, Ima bust a cap.
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My lovely bed.
Window with accompanying “classy” decorations.
Almost decorated wardrobe + 1 Euro poster = pure bliss
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Lovely old graves, still kept up by relatives.
Hard to see, but a row of older graves, no longer cared for.
Willi Graf, student leader of The White Rose, decapitated at age 25 by the Gestapo for standing against the Nazis.
His grave, almost wholly obscured by the bushes, but still a place of honor.
Translation: Willi Graf, a warrior against the tyranny of the National Socialist Party, in the student-led opposition movement, The White Rose. Executed on October 12, 1943.
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Well, friends, Romans and countrymen. My internet has been a little testy over the past week (read: it only works about every other day, when I’m lucky), so I thought I would take this rare, functioning moment to write a quick post and satiate your appetites. Bitte schön.
This week has been fairly low-key. Starting Monday, I’ve had between 1-2 classes a day, and today and next Monday there’s no class because of Easter. On Monday, I sat in on my first lecture (Epochen der deutschen Literatur von Sturm und Drang bis zum Naturalismus) and understood almost everything! I win! On Tuesday, I had my first Spanish class, and all I can say is I hope I catch on a little quicker because I feel like an idiot. The problem: the teacher is teaching Spanish in German, which is all well and good if you’re a native German speaker, but when you’re still trying to learn the language that isn’t even being taught, confusion results. Whatever, I’ll overcome, and if not, I’ll just look like an idiot for a semester.
I’m not actually enrolled in any classes for Wednesday, but I decided to sit in on a lecture about German poetry in the Middle Ages. I had a few problems understanding what was going on, because this lecture has approximately 200-300 people in it, and the professor seems entirely unconcerned by chit-chat. That means, that on top of deciphering German vocabulary from the Middle Ages (not at easy as you might think), I have to try and pick out his low and slightly droning voice from the sea of murmurs. (That sounds like a good book title. If anyone’s interested, I’ll see you the Rights for CHEAP!)
Thursday, I have a Lektürekurs with Dr. Leber, an incredibly friendly and helpful professor, who Lauren (a student who studied in Saarbrücken last year) recommended to me. I can already tell his class is going to be my favorite, because he is simply brimming with enthusiasm and joy and wants so desperately that we enjoy our time here. (Strange for a German, I know.) He’s already planning on taking our class on a weekend trip to Freiburg and the Schwarzwald sometime in July, and I’m pumped.
Anyway, that was the last week. In the afternoons and evenings, we (Monika, Weronika, Anna and I) usually just hang out, drink a cup of coffee and enjoy the sunshine. We’ve been walking to the Saar (you remember, the river that runs through town) quite often, simply soaking in the rays and ever-so-slowly browning our pasty, white winter skin.
This weekend, of course, is Easter, and we are doing all we can to fight homesickness and generally make it a lovely holiday. Today, we’re going to the grave of one of the leaders of The White Rose, a group of college students during WWII who distributed pamphlets condemning Germany’s conduct and whose six core leaders were eventually caught and executed by the Gestapo. Apparently it’s within walking distance of Waldhaus (one of the dormitories) so we thought we would go visit and pay our respects. Tomorrow, we’re meeting early in the day to start baking/cooking for Sunday (we’re having an Easter Brunch, yoo hoo!) and then we’re taking the train to the Polish church to get our Easter eggs blessed (apparently a Catholic tradition). On Sunday, a few people are meeting at Wohnheim D after church and we’re going to have a delightful Easter Brunch and watch the movie Chocolat (while eating chocolate, OF COURSE, because Lent will be over and it’ll finally be allowed!). Although this all can’t quite make up for the fact that my parents, brother, one sister, brother-in-law and niece are all in Philadelphia celebrating together, and my other sister with her family in Seattle, since neither of those are possibilities, it’s a fairly good alternative.
So, my dears, I hope you all have a Happy Easter weekend with family, friends and a large basket of chocolate! I’ll write again after I’ve knocked off at least one 300 gram bar of Rittersport.
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So, my dears. It’s another Friday night, and I’m sitting at “home” alone with my netbook, my music, and a bag of mini croissants (which, might I add, is quickly diminishing). Never fear, though. I’m not reverting back to my Hillsdale-Friday-Night-habits (you know … when I stayed up til 4, not partying like a normal college student, but studying), but am here by choice, because it’s been a long, and sort of unusual week and I need a break from everyone and everything.
Nothing exactly bad has happened this week. It’s just been odd. People seem to be stranger than usual, acting illogically and generally annoying me. (I am the Secret Mean Sister). It’s fine and all, but a night off from the world suits me just fine.
Today was quite lovely, though. Monika, Weronika and I met at the Mensa (cafeteria) for lunch at around noon (after I once again went to the bank to have them send me my online banking pin number — here’s to hoping the fourth time is the charm), and then took the train to the city of Saareguemines, France for the afternoon. It’s only 30 minutes away, directly on the border between Germany and France, and going there made me realize once again that the countries of Europe are incredibly small. I mean, this is not exactly an earth-shattering revelation, but the ability to travel from one country to another in such a short amount of time continues to surprise and fascinate me. Anyway, we wandered around a bit, got a cup of coffee and a croissant (SO FRENCH, I KNOW) and took pictures of all the beautiful trees that were in bloom. (I’ll post pictures on Facebook when I can muster up the strength.) We were only there for 2-3 hours, but it was absolutely delightful to get out of town and explore somewhere new for a bit.
Now we’re going to jump back in time for a bit (OMG, TIME TRAVEL), and I’m going to tell you sometime both funny and embarrassing which my sister (the ACTUAL Mean Sister) suggested that I share with you, my vast and faithful audience. So, I live on the first floor of eleven in my dormitory, and from the very first day, I could not for the life of me find the stairs. It was so embarrassing taking the elevator to and from the first floor, day in and day out, especially as the people on the elevator kept throwing me funny looks (or, at least, I felt like they were) when I climbed on for my two second ride when they had made the arduous journey from the eleventh floor (self-righteous bastards). This lasted for a good three weeks before I decided once and for all to man up and find the damn stairs (LANGUAGE, NORA). Once I finally found them (you thought I couldn’t do it, DIDN’T YOU?!), I felt justified in my previous confusion because instead of simply being hidden behind some secret door, or even attached to the outside of the building, they are both inside the building, and impossible to access without leaving the building. Let me explain. Every floor has a balcony, and in order to find the stairs, you have to go out onto the balcony, and through a second door which leads to the stairwell. That opens out from the front of the building, but is no where close to the main entrance. So, like I said, I feel less idiotic about my inability to find them earlier because their placement makes ABSOLUTELY NO SENSE. Anyway, I was so happy to find them, that I now use them every time I’m either coming or going in order to avoid the wait for the elevator and break all fat-and-lazy-American stereotypes. Yoo hoo! Today, however, my joy was squelched once again by a sign on the door to the stairwell that read, “Use of stairwell absolutely prohibited except in case of extreme emergency.” I think I might just choose to believe that the unnecessary use of an elevator from the first floor to ground floor equates extreme emergency.
I did have one more funny, and actually on-going, anecdote to share, but I’ve decided to wait until next time because I’m not sure you guys have earned the right of reading about TWO secrets in ONE day. That goes too far. You have to prove your love to me first.
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Casualties from April 13, 2011:
1.) A full bowl of pasta with red sauce. Bowl shattered and pasta sauce splattered all over my nice, white bedspread. (9 points for distance and accuracy)
2.) A bottle of L’Oreal foundation; a shade I had been saving because it was too dark for my winter skin, and, as of yesterday, I was finally tan enough to use again. Typical.
3.) Whatever else stands in my way. If I were you, I’d probably stay away today. Otherwise, you might end up in shards all over my bathroom floor, just like the last thing that crossed me.
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I am deeply sorry that my posting has become sporadic at best, but you see, things are fairly busy here and it’s not always easy to write daily or even every other day. I’m going to try to schedule a time when I write every week, maybe even twice a week, so you all won’t hassle me continually be sad that I don’t write as often as I should. We’ll see how well that works.
At the moment, I am very excited because I just signed up to take a Spanish course this semester (I had to wait until 8 o’clock this morning and hit the button at precisely the right second), and 2 minutes after 8, 17 of the 20 slots were full and I HAVE ONE OF THEM! I WIN! SI! I thought it would be practical to take a Spanish course here because all language courses are free, and there probably won’t be a better opportunity for me to begin (EVER IN MY LIFE).
Here’s something funny about the German semester that all my Hillsdale friends will surely enjoy. Although the actually semester starts this week, none of my courses begin until next week. The professors get to decide when they want to start, and not one of mine could be bothered to pull themselves together a week early. I’m amused. I’m also going to France today because of this delightful fact, that is, if the weather holds. That’s the only fabulous perk of this system. My student ID allows me to travel for free (train, bus, subway) anywhere in Saarland and just over the border into France. Apparently there’s a tiny town there, with few points of interest, but Weronika, Monika, Anna and I decided to pop over for a few hours, find a lovely little French cafe and wander around the town. Just because we can. I’ll take pictures and post them on FB so you can all see how delightful and Euro it was.
This past week has been a lot of fun. I’ll give you a brief summary. I spent most of the day on Wednesday just recuperating from all the traveling, but managed to pull myself together enough to go to Heimbar (it’s tradition, yo). Thursday, I spent a large portion of the day sitting in the sun and soaking up some rays! Spring has finally sprung (leaves, flowers, sunshine) and I couldn’t be happier with the change. Friday, I invited some friends over for a Wine and Cheese party (photos can be found on FB), and we had a very sophisticated time. Even if we were drinking out of Christmas mugs with penguins on them. Saturday, a group of people from Wohnheim D (and then my poor hanger-on self) went to the Saarschleife — a lovely area along the Saar river with almost-mountains, hiking trains, and a beautiful view. We spent our entire time there hiking (from about 12-7), uphill, both ways, in the snow, and it was marvelous. My legs and feet were very sore afterwards, but it was well worth it for that view. Sunday, I went to church in the morning, met Monika, Weronika and Anna in Monika’s room for coffee, and then Monika, Anna and I wandered along the part of the Saar that flows through Saarbruecken. There are grassy banks along both sides, complete with a few Biergartens and ice cream booths, and people absolutely swarm the area on weekends. We sat in the sun (reoccuring theme?), stared at strangers until they noticed us looking, and then went on our merry way.
There. I hope you’re all a little happier and more informed, but now it is time for me to shower and face the day. I have to run downtown and sort out some fun banking issues (who said dealing with bureaucracy couldn’t be fun?) and then go to the University to sort out books for next week.
Before I post this though, I’d like to give a big shout-out to the ladies of Suite 144, especially Emily and Deborah, with whom I had the pleasure of conversing via Skype this week! I miss you girls! They are in their last semester of college EVER (slash, undergraduate programs) and rocking it out, as they do. They basically MADE my life last semester (read: kept me from going over the edge), and I’m so happy to have them in my life. I’d send you all my love, girls, but we know that postage is expensive, so I’ll just use my dazzling mind powers and will a little love over the ocean to you.
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Okay, there really was no Earth-shattering revelation, but I had to get your attention somehow.
Hey, ya’ll! I’m back (not from Texas, although I understand the confusion) from Lüneburg! I’m thoroughly exhausted right now, so I’ll write about the end of the trip later, but I wanted to share the four posts that I wrote while I was there, so you guys wouldn’t die from the anticipation. You’re welcome.
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It seems I will have no internet in Lüneburg, but never fear, there is plenty to keep me busy. What with the three kids and the drinking and the partying, there’s little chance that I’ll be bored even for a second. Luckily for you, I can still write for the blog in Word, and then copy and paste later.
Yesterday (so, Saturday, March 26th), I woke up at 6:20 (and we all sigh a collective sigh) to get ready because the first bus that I had to take came at 7:36. I had a fairly busy week (read: I slept approximately 10 hours in 3 days), so it was a bit difficult to get going, but the excitement pulled me through. Then I had to transfer to another bus, and then finally arrived at the train station and bought a coffee so I wouldn’t die. Then another 40 minutes or so until my train came. The first bit of my journey (from Saarbrücken to Frankfurt) took almost 3 hours, and then I had to change trains and wait in the station for a little more than an hour before the next one took off. From Frankfurt to Lüneburg took another 4 hours, and then I finally arrived – tired, but pretty freaking excited to see “my German family” again. It’s been almost 3 years since I’ve seen them (almost 4 since I was last in Germany), and I must honestly say that I wasn’t sure how it would be. You see, although I love my Germans very, very much and Germany in general, my time as an Au-Pair was not without its hiccups. During and even after, I struggled with stress, anxiety and exhaustion (a few of my favorite things), both mentally and physically as well as the various other fun issues that consequently resulted. There’s really no need to go into detail describing it all here, but I was worried that in some form or another, as soon as I set foot in Lüneburg, all the emotions and fears would set in again, and I would collapse under the strain of it all. Luckily, at least to this point, that hasn’t been the case. Precisely the opposite, in fact.
Anyway, Volker, Anne, Elena, Philipp and a friend of his met me at the train station (Viktor was playing soccer with a friend, of course), and we walked the few blocks back to the neighborhood that I remembered so well. “My” family has since moved out of the small apartment that they lived in when I was last here, to their own house (still in the same neighborhood) with a lovely backyard, complete with trampoline, swing set and lots of trees – perfect for the kids. Elena had made a lovely banner for me that said “Welcome, Nora” which was hanging in the window for all the world to see! We spent the evening talking, eating, playing games, reading, etc. just like before (in fact, in some ways I feel like I never left) and it was really quite delightful. Viktor was a bit shy at first, but now, he’s warmed to me again (it’s hard, you see, for a 12-year-old boy to be good friends with a 21-year-old female), and it’s pretty great being with them all again.
Today, we slept in until 7:30 (8:30 with the time change – WILD, I know), and Viktor and I walked to the neighborhood bakery to pick up fresh rolls for breakfast – just as before. Just like for so many months so many years ago, we spent the morning/afternoon playing games (hide and seek, hairdresser, tag, etc.), and generally acting as if nothing had changed. Philipp and Volker then went on a little trip together to a neighboring town to see a dinosaur exhibit, and Elena, Viktor, Anne and I decided to spend the afternoon in Kollase, the tiny village where Anne’s parents live. After almost 4 years, nothing had changed. We arrived a few minutes before 4 (we took a bus as Volker and Philipp had the car), and exactly on the hour, were seated for tea. Oma is very serious about her mealtimes, and lateness is simply not tolerated. Although she is now a little old woman, hunched over with age and hard work, the rules still apply, and her insistence that guests eat 2, 3 or even 4 times as much as they originally intended has not changed. Both she and Opa are unbelievably sweet and welcoming, and were always so kind to me before, that it was truly a joy to be near them again. Anne even convinced me to stay longer than I originally intended on their behalf (I’ll be leaving next Tuesday rather than on Sunday), because Oma’s birthday is on Monday and it would be simply unacceptable if I missed the party.
Anyway, we took the train back to Lüneburg, ate a supper of noodles and curry ketchup (such a familiar dish, du) and I gave everyone their little presents, which I’m not sure they enjoyed as much as I hoped because they were small and not all that exciting. They loved the many different kinds of candy I brought though, certainly, and Volker and Anne were very happy with their little presents. Ah, children. Little buggers. Now that I’m a commodity again, though, each child wants to play/read/sleep with me, so I spent the evening doing a little of everything so that no one felt excluded.
Maybe it’s just the time that’s passed, but I really love being around my babies again, even Philipp who used to bite and kick me mercilessly. They’ve really matured over these past 4 years (for which, I’m grateful), and even though I’m not particularly interested in playing hide and seek for 20 hours a day, it’s quite lovely to be with them all again. Anne and Volker are two of the most generous and welcoming people I have ever met, and in many ways, visiting Lüneburg is like coming home. I get to be part of a family again, if only for a few days, and although I love being a student (what with the parties, the constant stream of new people, and the short nights), family life is what I enjoy above all else. Here it’s comfortable and familiar, I can simply be, without having to worry about what this or that new person will think of my clothes, my country and above all, my beliefs. Although our ideas of political justice differ drastically, here I can unapologetically think precisely what I want without feeling attacked or self-conscious. I miss that.
Tomorrow, the kids will go to school, and then I’ll have a few hours to myself to sit and soak in the sun, and then will certainly spend the afternoon/evening playing, reading, and generally being a fabulous big sister. Being the youngest of four, it’s quite nice to fill that role. Not that I don’t enjoy being youngest (I personally think it’s the best), but it’s nice to have it switched up a bit. Now however, I really should sleep, because I promised that I would wake up tomorrow at 7 to eat breakfast with the children before they have to go to school. Ach, die Lieben.
Note: I want you all to appreciate this post especially, because not only am I writing it at almost midnight when I have to wake up at 7 tomorrow, but English words are becoming increasingly more and more difficult to fashion into coherent sentences. That hopefully means that my German is getting better, but it also means that with every other phrase, it takes me twice as long to translate my thoughts from English to German back to English, and very frequently I simply can’t remember the correct words. Also, exactly 1 month ago, I left for Germany, which is in and of itself, quite astounding. Only 4 months more, and the time is running. This trip is already going well, and I feel it in my bones that it will continue to do so.
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Today is Tuesday, March 29th, and I’ve had an interesting last few days. Yesterday, I took Elena to school (the same school Viktor attended when I was last here) and Philipp to Kindergarten (SURPRISE: the same one that I used to take Elena to every day). SO STRANGE. The people, the places – nothing really seems to have changed, and at the same time, everything has. Lüneburg is still as lovely as ever, the old buildings drooping ever so slightly, the Elbe flowing through the center of town. But I feel as though I’m losing my mind, with both my past and present crashing into one another. It’s distinctly unsettling.
Yesterday, when the kids were all still away at school, I read and played Peggle because I simply had nothing else to do. No chores, no grocery shopping, no cooking, no cleaning – all the jobs that were mine before are now Volker’s, and they barely let me help clear and set the table at mealtimes, even though I used to do that and SO (so, so, so, so, so ….) much more before. I understand, I don’t work for them anymore, but being here wakes up The Crazy in me. I mean, it really is wonderful being with them all again, playing and talking and generally having a good time, but I still feel like I’m being tricked somehow, like someone pulled the rug out from under me and I can’t quite right myself.
Anyway, last night, Anne and I went to Sport (I went a few times with her last time, but not that often), and we actually had a lot of fun despite my deep-seated disdain for enforced exercise of any kind. The group she works out with is comprised of all women, mostly between the ages of 60-70, and both she and I stuck out like the young, hip and happening ladies that we are. (Sorry, I just threw up in my mouth a little, after typing that last line.) After, we sat up and talked for about 3 hours. Four years ago, those moments were my favorite – the kids tucked away in bed, a little peace and quiet, and a good friend to talk to. Last night was the same.
This morning, I woke bright and early (after sleeping in Viktor’s room – I’m on rotation), and Viktor and I rode our bikes to his school. I got back with minimal number of wrong turns (you see, this school is actually a new one for me – Überraschung!) and then I went into town (first stopping at Anne’s Praxis to say hello) and wandered around town, taking pictures and pretending that I was a tourist. I walked home, slowly (it’s uphill, yo, both ways, in the snow), and sat out in the garden for a good hour, soaking in the sun. Volker came home (he had been at the dentist) and we made lunch and the kids got back. Today is Anne’s long work day (8 AM – 8 PM, poor thing), but she got to come home for lunch before rushing out again. All the kids were invited to friends’ houses for the afternoon, so I walked to the train station to buy my ticket for my journey home (which, by the way, will be utterly wretched as I have to change trains THREE TIMES – otherwise, though, I had to pay 20 more Euros), and then laid on the trampoline in the sun for a bit. Now, like the girly-girl that I am, I’m going to paint my nails, and generally relax. Tomorrow, Anne and I are going into town for a bit to go shopping for Oma’s birthday party. Yoo hoo! So, then, my dears, my darling ones, I’ll write again soon. (You lucky beasts, you’re going to get between 3-4 posts all at once! It’ll be like Christmas came early.)
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Wednesday passed quickly – the kids have practice of various types all over the city (swimming, soccer, basketball, etc.) for which we had to rush around – but my body decided to break down and make me hate life. Kind, yes? No, but Viktor had gotten sick the day before, and I wanted to renew all traditions from last time and decided to follow his lead. Regardless, the weather was absolutely beautiful, and I got to soak up a few rays before the sickness fully settled. Before the kids came home, Anne and I went shopping in the roaring metropolis of Lüneburg, and found her some fun clothes for her mother’s birthday party. It was very pleasant to wander around and people watch (have I told you how fabulous it is to people watch in Europe? Everyone is so much more interesting looking!) Anyway, after the kids got back and between practices, Anne and I visited Doro, someone I got to know last time I was here. She’s a teacher, and four years ago when I still had sugarplum dreams of being an elementary school teacher, she let me come to her class and tell her students about America. (I brought chocolate chip cookies and they loved me.) Anyway, we chatted for a bit, and then continued on our way.
After, we spent the evening reading, playing a variety of games, and generally enjoying life. I continued to get sicker and sicker, and after the kids went to bed, I watched TV and curled up on the couch. (Poor little bunny.)
Today, I slept in a bit (7:30, hey oh!), and slowly got ready for the day. Viktor, as I said, is also sick, and stayed home from school. The two of us puttered around, generally pitying ourselves and feeling disgruntled. I kept falling asleep all over (slash, on the couch) and then, after the other kids came home, we played a few games and tried not to get any sicker. At least it’s a nice rainy day, though, so I don’t have any desire to go outside anyway. Tonight, I get to put the kids in bed alone (and all my worst nightmares return) because Anne is working late and Volker has to go to a school meeting for Viktor. Whatever, I lived through it last time and I’ve grown much meaner and tougher in my old age. Illegitimi non carborundum.
Tomorrow, Anne works in the afternoon, but in the morning she wanted to go shopping again and hang out. In the evening, she’s taking me out to dinner, and if I’m feeling better, we’re going to go dancing! We’ve been having SO much fun together (the two of us), particularly in the evenings after the kids go to bed. I really am lucky to know her (and Volker, and actually the whole family), but being with her is like being with my own Mama again – she’s a combination of a mother figure and a good friend. I love it.
Well, now Viktor is chomping at the bit for me to finish typing so I can play some more games, but I’ll write again, if I have time, in a couple days. Tschüss!
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So, ihr Lieben. I’ve made it a full week in Lüneburg and I still have a few days left before I resume my life as a student. What with the sickness and all, things have been slightly more subdued than normal (by normal, I mean four years ago “normal”, of course), and I’ve gotten to sleep in almost every day (difficult to do with the children shouting and generally carrying on, but we try our best).
Yesterday morning I felt slightly better than the night before (read: my pounding headache had subsided), so I rode my bike with Anne to take Philipp to Kindergarten. After, we climbed to the top of Kalkberg (a hill nearby which used to have rich chalk deposits – which you fools would know if you only spoke German – get on it), and enjoyed the view of the city. After, we rode out bikes through the old section of the city, where I used to go to church, and slowly, slowly home. Viktor and I spent the rest of the morning/early afternoon playing games (he stayed home from school again because of his sickness), and then I peeled approximately 10 pounds of potatoes, as I do, for lunch. I then picked Elena up from school (as per special request), and we ate lunch and Anne went to work for the afternoon. The afternoon passed without much need for comment, no huge fights or broken chairs, crockery, legs, etc. After the kids were settled but before Anne came home, Volker and I had a long conversation, and solved not only all of the major problems in the world (war, famine, drought, etc.), but also devised a highly detailed plan so that I can: a.) get married; b.) visit Germany often; c.) find love; d.) have money. Actually, we came up with two distinct plans with differing estimated rates of success. The first requires that I find and marry a German professor with connections to the political sphere. I’ll, naturally, be invited to parties with high-powered politicians, and after a few years, I’ll divorce the professor and move on to a politician. After some time, through a series of divorces and re-marriages, I’ll have climbed to the top of the social ladder through this process and be both rich and famous. That’s one option. OR, if I’m inclined to marry for love (foolish idea, for a variety of reasons), I’ll marry someone I love in America, and then enter into a civil union with someone rich in Germany, claiming that I don’t believe in marriage. That way, I’ll be able to visit my “German family” and various friends in Germany with relative ease, and still have love in life. It’s a win-win! Both of these are fabulous ideas, obviously, with their respective pros and cons. I’m leaning toward the second one, but I’ll let you know.
So, Anne came home (probably luckily, or we would have gone out on the search right away, and I would have been married by 5 o’clock today), and we went out to an Asian restaurant and spent hours and hours just talking, drinking wine, and people watching. Delightful.
Today, I woke relatively early, slowly oozed my way down stairs, drank some coffee and came to life. (I am a gelatinous monster.) Anne took the boys to the swimming pool (Philipp is learning to swim on his own), and I walked to the nearby bakery to pick up some fresh rolls. (My life is so hard!) We had a nice, leisurely breakfast/brunch, and have, until now, spent the whole day outside in the garden, soaking in the sun. Tonight, we’re having a grill party with Anne’s brother, Andreas, complete with 3 different kinds of meat, a variety of sausages, and true-blue American B-B-Q sauce. WIN!
Tomorrow, Anne’s friend, Umit, is coming to visit with her three young boys (4, 2, and 1 respectively), and Monday is Oma’s birthday. That probably means that I won’t write again until I get back, but be sure I will flood the interwebs with photos and stories as soon as I step in the door to Wohnheim Guckelsberg.
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Another St. Patrick’s Day has come and gone, the first of hopefully very few that I will spend not a.) dancing in front of large crowds while wearing elaborate and expensive costumes; b.) drinking Guinness and doing Irish Car Bombs with my mother (I haven’t forgotten, Mumsie.); or c.) being in America where we have more than 1 Irish Pub.
We had all the best intentions, you see. I made plans to meet a group of friends and go to the only Irish Pub in Saarbruecken, but luck was against me (ha HA — get it?! DO YOU?!!!!), the Pub was so full that it was standing room only, and my new “friends” (I use the term loosely in this situation, as I’m severely disappointed) were unwilling to stand outside in order to drink a Guinness. The horrors. We actually did end up having a nice time though, if slightly less than Irish, at another bar with a billiard table. Nevertheless, that tiny Irish part of me wept.
But I’ve gotten ahead of myself. As some of you have been kind enough to remind me, I haven’t written in a few days, so I should probably give you the whole story of the past week. On Wednesday (so, the day before the Great St. Patrick’s Day Debacle of 2011), was Heimbar in Wohnheim D. I had heard mysterious rumors of this being a Heimbar unlike other Heimbars — where the music carried a beat and people actually attended. I, always skeptical, decided not to let the excitement get the best of me and expect too much, but much to my joy, the rumors were true! There were people! There was music! There was dancing! There was a chocolate waterfall that crashed onto cheesecake boulders surrounded by bubblegum dreams! (Didn’t think they had those in Germany, didya?)
Naturally, Friday followed in an exhausted haze, and I spent the day/night catching up on sleep from the hectic week. Saturday, I woke and went into town to buy my train ticket to go see my German babies in Lueneburg next week! You see, this month-long German course ends on Friday of this week, and then we have until April 11 before the actual semester begins. I need to be back in order to sort of my classes, etc. but I decided this would be the best time to go visit the Grohts and spend some time catching up with them. I am really so thrilled to be able to go see them, because it’s been almost 4 years since I lived with them and almost 3 since I last saw them. My babies are growing up, and although they were quite the handful to take care of, for a week-long visit, I think I’m up to the challenge.
Anyway, after buying the ticket and taking care of some other errands, I came back and a group of us decided to meet up in the evening to go to Blau, a “nite” club that had been described to me as “Saugeil”. Now, I’m not sure how Germans decide what qualifies as “good dance music”, but so far, I’m less than impressed. Last night was an Alternative Rock dance party. I’m assuming you’ve probably never tried to dance to Alternative Rock, and for good reason — it’s impossible. Now I know the German preferred style of dancing is merely a glorified version of thrashing, but this music even seemed to throw the natives off-balance. It was an interesting time.
Today, I woke bright and early, and hopped on a bus to Johanneskirche for church. The building was lovely, but the sermon rather less than what I’ve grown accustomed to back home (that’s not to be taken as an insult, merely an observation), so I think once I get back from the Grohts, I am going to visit the church that Zoe attended when she was here.
The rest of the day I’ve spent doing very little, and now I need to finish up some homework for tomorrow and go to bed early. Mmmm, the hectic life of a student.
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So, it seems I have a pretty fabulous life. Let me tell you why.
As I wrote in my last post, I got to go on a guided tour of Belgium on Sunday, and it was quite the adventure. Despite Saturday’s warmth and sun, Sunday brought rain and chilling temperatures — irritating as we were to spend the entire day outside. (Note: I accidentally typed “poutside” and it seems to be more fitting than the alternative.) Anyway, our group met at the University at 8 o’clock, and all crammed onto a bus, not unlike the band buses of yore. Now, here’s the thing. I’m not sure if you’ve been to Europe recently (probably not, because I’m pretty sure I know everyone who reads this), but Europeans aren’t as into personal hygiene as Americans. That’s not entirely a criticism as I sometimes believe that the American obsession with cleanliness can be over the top. (Surprise: it really is acceptable to wear clothes more than once without washing! I know, I just blew your mind.) HOWEVER. THERE IS A VERY DEFINITE LIMIT, and those people on that bus exceeded it. (Even if the wheels went round and round.)
So, three rank hours later, we arrived in a little town in Belgium called Han-Sur-Lesse. This tiny town boasts of the largest cave in all of Belgium, and we got to go on a tour. Now, over my many (many, many) years of camping and touring state parks with family and friends, I’ve seen my fair share of caves, all with a little tourist traffic, but fairly undisturbed by humans. This cave was precisely the opposite. Although it did have some lovely stalactites and stalagmites, our path was so clearly designed for tourists that it took away a bit of the earthy charm of caves which I happen to enjoy. Truly, the paths were all paved with cement, complete with railings, trash bins, with the bigger chambers even rigged for light shows, with spot lights beaming on some of the more impressive aspects of each particular chamber (i.e. rocks). Regardless, it was still a lot of fun, and our native-French-speaking-tour-guide-who-spoke-to-us-in-English didn’t hate us as much as he could have! Yoo hoo!
After Han-Sur-Lesse, we hopped back on the bus again and headed to Namur, which is (according to Wikipedia) the capital of Wallonia. Now, Belgium is divided into three sections, as far as languages go, and Namur is in one section where French is the predominant language. Honey, let me tell you, I thought my 8 words of French (oui, c’est la vie, jen ne sais pa) would cut it, but these shockingly proved to be insufficient. I discovered this when a few of us went to a restaurant for lunch, (well, it actually ended up being 3 restaurants because we kept having troubles) and it was an uphill battle trying to piece together enough English to order a small fry. We survived, one way or another, however, and spent the rest of the afternoon and early evening touring the town (complete with citadel, WIN) and generally being touristy.
Then came the inevitable bus ride, but we made it back, unscathed, and even in time for me to take a bus to Guckelsberg! Success!
The next day, Monday (which was, incidentally, also yesterday), I was giddy with excitement the entire day because my fabulous sisters and brother-in-law decided to buy me a ticket to see Wir Sind Helden — one of the first German bands I ever listened to and loved — who were, joy of joys, coming to perform in Saarbruecken! I got through Unterricht one way or another (alright, I’ll be honest. I bribed the teacher to let me out early) and Anna and I met and walked to the Die Garage (the same disko I went to earlier with the sketch music — you remember). We arrived quite early because we needed to pick up our tickets at the door, a simple task which almost proved disastrous. We went to get our tickets (after waiting an hour), and the woman at the counter told us that our money hadn’t transferred because we bought the tickets so late, and we’d have to pay the full price, which they would then reimburse when the money did come through. Neither of us had enough money to pay for the tickets with us, so we were freaking out, but the woman called all sorts of people and ran to an office somewhere, and finally discovered that my money had transferred but Anna’s had not. She, bless her heart, decided to let us both in anyway, and we squeeze into to the front of the stage (there was only one person each between us and the musicians — AH!), where we firmly planted ourselves and refused to move for anyone. The opening band sounded like any other boy band (if this tells you anything, their name was Emma 6), but Wir Sind Helden — well, they were fabulous! You could instantly tell that they’d been together for a long time (I checked on Wiki — since 2001) and simply love being around each other and their fans. The lead singer (and, incidentally, also lyricist and guitar player) Judith Holofernes is the cutest thing that could be, and danced all about the stage, told jokes and generally made sure that everyone had a good time. They played a lot of their old songs too (a good thing, because I know approximately 1 of their new songs) and everyone sang and danced, and generally rocked it out. If you ever get the chance, I would STRONGLY recommend them, and I am just SO happy that I had the opportunity to see them.
All this excitement does, of course, mean that I didn’t do any homework at all, which, apparently your teachers expect you to do? New concept for me. Unfortunately, that means that I have a stack of assignments due tomorrow, but at least I’ll have the memories and the music videos on YouTube to keep me warm.
P.S. If you’re interested in pictures, here’s a link to my FB page where I posted them all: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?fbid=10150108346811691&id=500211690&aid=281051
