Das Leben ist eine Baustelle

16. Juli
Two more hours until the 4-hour testing marathon begins. How did I become such a paranoid test-taker? I´m WAY out of practice. I'm also WAY under-prepared. Oh yeah, and I'm also WAY scared of the German expectations.

***Epilogue***
Finished. Not brilliant, but finished.


12. Juli
People, I have a request, and I need your help desperately: can we PLEASE try to start using the word "twee"? (although, according to dictionary.com, it's "chiefly British") If no other better usage contexts come to mind, you can at least use it in reference to squirrels. Please, let's not miss out on this great opportunity.


10. Juli
Just when you thought you were safe...Chuck Norris makes a comeback, and this time in German! I walked into my Political Theory lecture to find a fellow student sneaking over to the overhead projector to surreptitiously put up an overhead stating: "Chuck Norris kann Luhmann steuern!" (i.e. "Chuck Norris can control Luhmann"--a ridiculously nerdy allusion to Luhmann's systems theory) The professor, who had been out in the hall, heard the laughter and headed back in to see what all the fuss was about. She didn't quite get the joke and as an opening "discussion question" requested that someone explain what was going on. One brave soul raised her hand and began to explain in an appropriately scientific tone that "Chuck Norris is a man who is generally believed to be capable of anything and everything, and thus a reference to Chuck Norris is essentially a statement about the limits of mankind's natural ability..."
Yes, the German sense of humor is indeed a bit seltsam.


8. Juli
A productive afternoon of link-surfing in WikiWonderland yielded this (pertaining to the "Sapir-Whorf Hypothesis"):
"Whorf's close analysis of the differences between English and (in one famous instance) the Hopi language raised the bar for an analysis of the relationship between language, thought, and reality by relying on close analysis of grammatical structure, rather than a more impressionistic account of the differences between, say, vocabulary items in a language. For example, "Standard Average European" (SAE) — i.e., Western languages in general — tends to analyse reality as objects in space: the present and future are thought of as "places", and time is a path linking them. A phrase like "three days" is grammatically equivalent to "three apples", or "three kilometres". Other languages, including many Native American languages, are oriented towards process. To monolingual speakers of such languages, the concrete/spatial metaphors of SAE grammar may make little sense. Whorf himself claimed that his work on the SWH was inspired by his insight that a Hopi speaker would find relativistic physics fundamentally easier to grasp than an SAE speaker would."
Does the fact that I find this insight so spectacular that I want to devote my life to it mean that I should actually devote my life to it?
Also, I'm really scared for the linguistic future of the world. Is this just me being paranoid?


6. Juli
Mmmm. Drunk and well-fed, thanks to my roommate, David, and my neighbor, Markus. It's wonderful to be able to have a few beers and then let the guys whip up a meal afterwards.
How is it possible that I'm truly going to have to leave this place? And yet, it will most likely be all too easy...that's the way of things.


4. Juli
The Germans have two words for Jell-O (in literal translation):
1) "wiggly pudding" and
2) "food of the gods".
I knew there was a reason I loved this language.
Happy 4th of July, everybody!
P.S. After switching my Windows operating system language over to French, my computer now tells me that I've just inserted a "virgin CD" every time I try to burn something through iTunes.


28. Juni
Poor little French Canadian kids can't understand the donkey in Shrek because he speaks like the big bad Parisians.


25. Juni
My mom has come and gone. It was a short but sweet weekend that invoved eating raclette in Basel, wandering through Swiss cow pastures, checking out the UN headquarters, trying out some (awkward, tourist-style) French, and stumbling upon a giant music festival in Geneva.
As the train left the station this morning, I came to realize that I'll never again be able to rely on my mom to keep me afloat and happy and engaged in life. Not that I was ever all that dependent, but from here on out, I make my own fun. Or I don't--which is what I'm scared of. I'm getting socially lazy. I wish I were naturally more people-curious and less people-overwhelmed.


19. Juni
As I was riding the Strassenbahn this morning, engrossed in my Turkish phrasebook, a dude from Nigeria sat down across the aisle from me, looked around awkwardly for a bit, and then asked me what I was reading. And then asked me where I was from. And then asked me how many languages I knew. And then asked me how long I'd been here and how long I'm staying. And then asked me what my name was. And then asked me where I lived. And then told me that he "wanted to see me again".
Me: "Hmm. Maybe we'll see each other around some day."
Him: "I ride this Strassenbahn every day and it's the first time I've seen you."
Me: *divert eyes to Turkish list of car parts*
Him: "I won't see you again if we don't figure this out now."
Me: *eyes glued to the Turkish word for 'carburator'* "I'm only here for three more weeks."
Him: "Three weeks is a long time."
etc, etc...
I was left to fill the next five painful minutes with some awkward head shaking, resigned chuckling, and a futile attempt to avoid his gaze. Finally, he hopped off the Strassenbahn one stop before I did.
I found this situation to be pretty creepy, but I'm trying to figure out why: was it genuinely offensive to me, or am I just "supposed" to think that that kind of forwardness is inacceptable? Or both? I'm thinking there may be a reason why society tells us not to try to scrounge up dates by just sidling up to random people on public transportation, but I'm trying to remember what it is...
In other news, I've been starting to use ice cream as a meal substitute. Is this sensible, or is it just fast food-style laziness? The jury is still deliberating.


13. Juni
Every morning, just for waking up, I used to receive a quarter from my parents. If I made my bed, I received an additional quarter. (I usually didn't receive the additional quarter.) This constituted my allowance from the age of six until the age of ten. Juergen Habermas thinks this is bad.


12. Juni
My poli sci class on comparative educational policies really got my ire up today. We had three students from Michigan who were entrusted with putting on a presentation of "the American school system" for a group of mixed international and German students. For much of the presentation, they were intellectually shoddy, missed the mark, and offered up inane and confusing details (just how IS that Lutheran parochial school down the street from your home in Michigan funded? how many bake sales did your school band hold every year? and how many years of gym class were you required to take in high school?). As far as college goes, they essentially just ended up giving the cookie cutter high school college counselor lecture on the college admissions process (just try explaining the term "well-rounded student" to a bunch of Germans---they did and it was hilarious). They basically just served to affirm all of the many poorly-formed prejudices that the Germans have regarding "the" American school system. No new clarity was attained. Moreover, they decided to hold the presentation in English rather than the official language of education in this country which, by the way, still happens to be GERMAN (for how long this will still be the case remains to be seen). What this means: there was minimal research done, and they banked on the fact that anything they said would automatically get "interesting" points by virtue of the fact that it's "new and exciting" information in a "new and exciting" language (and, indeed, most of the Germans, including the professor, were taken in).
All in all, they glossed over what I consider to be crucial and more enlightening issues when viewing the German and American systems from a comparative perspective: inequity in public school funding, magnet schools, foreign language and dual-language policies, racial and socio-economic achievement gaps, the fairness of college entrance exams and other standardized testing, etc. Moral of the story: I care more about educational policy than I had ever admitted to myself. Honestly, don't people CARE that EVERYTHING they are and will be is inextricably linked to their educational pasts? Education is absolutely not something to toy with or to leave un- or underexamined.
*Deep breath*.
In other news, I got my first haircut ever in a Foreign Land last week. It was cheap and turned out nicely. Assuming I understood her correctly, the haircutter lady was surprised that I let her cut so much off (I suppose the Germans aren't know to be drastic and act on impulse).
In other news, I have finally learned to recognize the ticket checkers on the Strassenbahn. So well, in fact, that I spotted them chatting "nonchalantly" with each other in a noble effort to be inconspicuous about five minutes BEFORE they even starting checking tickets and said to myself "I'll bet anything they're ticket checkers". Sure enough, they sauntered over to me "sting"-style and I had to giggle a bit, thinking "it's about time", as I showed them my ticket.
I've also had a mini-revelation: the Germans and the French refer to the United States as a plural subject, whereas English speakers, despite the fact that our language has no real way of indicating whether "the" US is to be understood as being singular or plural, tend to somehow assume we're talking about a singular subject, and we conjugate related verbs accordingly. Does this mean there's a different sense of national unity on our side of the ocean?


4. Juni
We set out early on a Tuesday morning and arrived in the vibrant capital of Liechtenstein in the early (and rainy) afternoon. Then a steep busride took us up to our starting point--the little town of Steg (still below the snow line). An hour later, and we were on a hillside riddled with curious cows and abandoned (storage?) huts. Not wanting to set up camp in a "populated" area without some sort of permission, we managed to dodge the defensive cows and find a lone elderly and nearly unintelligible Liechtensteinian man who was unloading gear at his little mountainside hotel before opening up for the season. We interpreted his accent-obscured advice as adequate permission to set up camp under a pine tree, where we proceeded to pitch our 35-euro three-person tent, prepare half-cooked spaghetti, and settle in for a night peppered with light snow flurries and cold feet (guess who forgot to bring a second pair of dry socks).
Wednesday consisted of a lot of stupid decisions, starting with the initial decision to wake up and peel ourselves out of our sleeping bags. Then, after about two hours of hiking, came the decision to cross the snow line. Then there was the decision to proceed even after meeting two trail maintenance workers who were setting up a safety fence (which, of course, we couldn't take advantage of in its unfinished state) and who looked at our shoes and packs and sort of laughed and warned us that under no circumstances should we take trail "X" and that it was best to avoid trail "Y". It should have occurred to us that this ruled out virtually all of our escape options save one--the one we ended up taking and that involved lots of snaking and clinging to brush and that killed my leg muscles for three solid days. Next came the decision to try to reach the Kuhgrat peak (about 2100m), which led us along a trail that was about 20-25cm wide and where any false move or fainting spell (high altitude, mind you) would send you plummeting down the snowy hillside.
The only good decisions: 1) deciding to turn around, head back donw, and avoid the balance beam Ridge of Death, and 2) stopping for the night in a little mountain hut open to all insane travelers like ourselves and furnished by the Liechtensteinian boy scouts.
What I gained from this experience: a better understanding of appropriate footwear, a mean sunburn (including my eyeballs), and a new respect for the Power of the Mountain.
It was also felt great to give into the temptation to be the nasty American in my train compartment on my way to Vienna by crunching through a bag of peanut M&Ms, eating peanut butter sandwiches (spread by finger), and washing it down with a traditional Austrian Almdudler.


28. Mai
Tomorrow, it's off to Liechtenstein for camping in the rain...
In other news, Turkish is VERY intriguing. The part of my brain that is devoted to grammar (i.e. ~32.7%) is having a heyday.


19. Mai
New favorite German word: "Fachidiot", meaning someone who is so obsessed with their own line of work that they are an idiot when it comes to everything outside of their own specialty
You know your book bag is too large when you're walking towards the library on a Saturday afternoon and run into a woman walking her dog who smiles at you cordially and politely asks you if you're going home for the weekend.


17. Mai
"I like blue light. I see it as a sign of civilization." ~David, my roommate (who later went on to explain that it is one of the few non-naturally occuring shades of light and that he also happens to really enjoy analog dials for some inexplicable reason)


12. Mai
German drivers are incredibly alert: I was riding home today at night in a black coat, when I crossed in front of a car that I really should not have been in front of. The car, unphased, stopped in its tracks and politely tapped its horn as a sort of *tsk tsk* and let me proceed. And this was even on a friday night with all of its drunken driving potential.
And, many thanks to [baldwint] for educating me in the psychology of anger and self loathing, but even more so for putting up with a very intense and sort chick-flicky documentary (don't ask me how such a cinematic oxymoron is possible, but it is).

9. Mai
Happy Europe Day everybody!
I just gave a presentation on India to a group of seventeen German retirees and adult learners. Well, half a presentation, since I thought I was supposed to go two hours when I was actually only allotted 90 minutes--I'll have to finish up next week when they meet again. Either way, I'm feeling pretty impressed with myself, considering that just a week ago, I knew next to nothing about India, and considering that I somehow had to stretch my passive vocabulary into activity in order to explain some of the more complex economic concepts. Pat on the back to myself (and thanks to Concordia Language Villages for making me what I am today). Let's just hope I can pull it off again next week...


7. Mai
How often at night when the heavens are bright
With the light of the glittering stars
Have I stood there amazed and asked as I gazed
If their glory exceeds that of ours.


2. Mai
Visited prison today and sat in on a politics class led by a (paid) high school teacher who taught a group of about seven men. Was pretty underwhelmed by the subject matter and teaching style, but was pleased to be back in [prison] and had to think of [garrecht], of course. It's remarkable that these inmates were SO similar to the ones back home at NCF: astute, exuberant, critical thinkers, often with an odd mix of juvenility and gravitas. As a teacher, it is absolutely the most gratifying and cushy job you can imagine--to the point where it seems sort of self-serving. I miss it.


1. Mai (aka "Maitag")
As I was coming home in the Strassenbahn, an older man with a cane hobbled into the car I was in, looked around a bit, and then seemed to want to take the seat next to me. I had my feet up and dangling oddly on the banister and my bag sitting on the seat next to me, so I shifted around to make room for him, he said "thanks", and I continued reading about how flat the world is (by Thomas L. Friedman). During the ride, he kind of looked over, almost like he was trying to figure out what I was reading, but I was engrossed and didn't take the opportunity to engage in a conversation. The man got out two stops before me, and as the train was pulling to a halt, he reached into his pocket, grabbed a lemon candy, plopped it onto my lap, and said "thanks for making room for me--have a nice evening". The best I could do was stammer out a feeble "uh, thanks, you too". Hmm. That was beautiful. And he sort of looked like Santa Claus.


23. April
Romantic awkwardness: shaving your legs by candlelight in a 2' x 2' shower.
Contentment: good music, a warm evening, gliding home in the Strassenbahn, and the prospect of a new grammar waiting to be mastered (Turkish).
Potential for loss: springtime, a bike, and city of 200,000 residents with too many nooks and crannies for its own good.


19. April
"Rate yourself on each of the following traits as compared with the average person your age:
Humility - [X]highest 10% [ ]above average [ ]average [ ]below average [ ]lowest 10% "

Hmmm... I feel like an (oxy)moron.


4. April
Was getting all stressed out earlier today about the upcoming journey to Morocco when I realized that it's been a while since I'd engaged in a little omphaloskepsis to help me re-center and find my xi. After one cathartic hour of staring at my belly button, I'm now ready to tackle the world.
(P.S. I'm not actually stressed in the least--I just needed to fabricate a context that would fit my new, ridiculous vocabulary word.)
Morocco or bust!


31. March
Thank god I passed through middle school in such a blissful state of nerdy oblivion. It's easy enough to avoid being tormented by fashion and popularity issues when you don't realize there ARE such a things as fashion and popularity. Now that I have become an enlightened adult, however, I realize: somebody needs to tell the teenage boys here than puffy nylon jackets with fur on the hood are a BAD fashion decision. I'm just too intimidated by them to be a good samaritan here.


29. March
I just turned down a joint so that I could finish the paper I've been procrastinating for a week. I'm certainly not a pothead, but I still feel lame about this. Mainly because never in my life have I been such a shameless procrastinator.


18. March
Radtour to Strasbourg with [orourkej] and [scharrma]. 95 kilometers later and we're still alive! I've abandoned my bike in town, though, and don't think I'll be able to look at it again for another few days.


14. March
Major pet peeve of mine: when the Germans cleverly slip the phrase "last not least" (or any other English phrase, for that matter) into their literature in a pitiful attempt to sound 'with it'. As in:
"Dieser Anstieg ist eine Folge der systematischen Nutzung von Wissenschaft und Technik zur Entwicklung der Produktivkraefte..., der sozialen Organisation der kapitalistischen Mehrwertproduktion und - last not least - des massiven Einsatzes fossiler Energietraeger zum Antrieb der Werkzeuge und Maschinen des Industriezeitalters."
I'm sure I'm not the only one to let out a resigned chuckle at the sight of this. This phrase DOES NOT exist in English--it's "last BUT not least", people. If you're going to shamelessly throw around Anglicisms and make yourself look like a sycophantic literary snob, at least do it properly. Otherwise, just stick to your own language. It worked for Goethe, and Kant, and Marx, and Nietzsche...


12. March
Beautiful weather. Not much incentive to work on papers. Today's realization: Ich bin eitel. How do you crush a bad habit?
Also, while procrastinating today, I randomly stumbled across a Fox News video headline online that helped reaffirm how truly insidious Fox can be. The video was about a young couple--"Christian camp counselors", of course--who were "brutally" shot to death in 2004 at "point blank range" (great mind-numbing buzzwords that they tended to emphasize a lot) while lying on a random beach somewhere. The news moderator posed the question that was on everyone's mind: "is it possible that they were murdered because of their Christian beliefs?" They then turned to "Fox News Criminal Analyst" Rod Wheeler (who, in a brilliantly calculated display of political correctness, was a member of a racial minority). Wheeler of course confirmed the alarming idea that this poor couple was hunted down because of their "strong Christian faith", citing the fact that driftwood with "satanic etchings" had been found near the murder site. In the interest of balance, they turned to a "Forensic Psychiatrist" who emphasized that it was possible but not definitive that the crime was religiously motivated, but by the time they got to him, all the good Christians had most likely turned off their televisions and entered their bunkers. I'm sorry if this seems like an offensive analysis, but the psychological manipulation here was just so thinly veiled that it's sickening. The only good news: Fox didn't go so far as to try to link the satanic etchings to Al Qaeda (aka "Saddam Hussein").
In other news, Barack Obama is a hypocritical lackey of the Chicago "political machine" (another buzzword) and a "left-of-center, doctrinaire liberal" (*cringe*). Just to prove how unbiased he is, the Chicago Tribune columnist they were interviewing, who was offering a "hometown perspective" on Obama, threw the senator a bone, saying that Obama "has mentioned ethics" at different points during his political career ("mentioned", mind you, but not necessarily "followed"). The implicit message, of course, is that Republicans are all free-thinking, ingenuous politicians who see it as their moral imperative to operate outside of the "political machine". I'm convinced.


7. March
In the interest of my own further education, I was able to attend two hearings today at the Amtsgericht. (I naturally thought of [kieffera] and all our tedious hours devoted to Mock.) Although I've never been party to any of the day-to-day goings on in American courtrooms, and although I imagine that even American hearings aren't nearly as glorious as TV and mock trial would have me believe, I did notice a few major differences in style while observing the continental legal system in action. The judges are far more active, pose questions, make a few jokes now and then, and are responsible for deciding not only the punishment, but also the facts of the case, as there is no jury. The hearings sort of devolved into a discussion between the judge, the state attorney, the defense attorney, and the expert witness. The burden of justice basically falls on the intellectuals in the courtroom. According to my law-student roommate, it is typical for German that a strong dialogue exists between academics and the legal profession. Another major trend is that they try to dole out fines and punishment based on the culprit's ability to pay. They ask a few questions about his income and expenses and from that, they end up assigning a daily sum of X amout to be paid off for Y number of days.
At one point, they had to decide on a condign punishment for a guy who'd (drunkenly?) crashed into a BMW at 4am on Christmas Eve morning. An approximate reproduction of the conversation between the judge and the state attorney (the defendant was, of course, present the whole time):
Judge: "Hmm. How does 1,000 euro sound?"
Attorney: "Yeah, that sounds reasonable."
Judge: "And then I suppose he can have his license back."
Attorney: "Right."
Judge (to defendant): "Does that sound all right to you?"
Defendant: "Sure."

As if that weren't enough excitement for one day, I was also in a "youth arrest facility" designed to carry out short-term rehabilitative arrest for sentences of up to four weeks. ([garrecht], I thought of you.) There were no metal detectors, they let us walk through with all of our backpacks, we had to dodge kids playing ping-pong and reading in the library. They even let the kids out alone to head to the dentist or hospital, if necessary. If someone flies the coop, they give him 24 hours and hope he decides to come back--only after the grace period is up do they call the police. The place was, admittedly, "the most liberal of this type of facility in Germany"--but still, I was stunned.


5. March
Menschenrechtsvertraeglichkeitspruefungen. *Grin*. Another paper, another great word. It feels good to be back in Germany.

3. March
Prague isn't quite as poetic as I'd imagined, but maybe it's just me. I'm starting to think I'm not much of a big-city person. No real complaints, though, and the weather held up enough so that I could take a walk in the park. Plus, I've been heading to cafes and reading sections of my book "The Spirit of Prague".


26. Februar
You know the Germans are getting to you when you decide to wear a scarf around the house in a futile attempt to ward of an impending cold.
Also, don't ever try to explain "Unitarianism" to one of your professor's old high school cronies who happens to be accompanying you on a school field trip. He won't understand what you're talking about and will most likely place you in the category of "devil worshippers".


20. Februar
Romanian highlights: Going to the German consulate in Sibiu and getting to use the bathroom of former dictator Ceascescu's son.
Finally realizing my full potential in bowling (110!). America, cruelly, has never allowed me to mix bowling and large amounts of alcohol before--but it works!  Also, I visited my first Romanian Orthodox church service and was absolutely enthralled.  I love how the churches are square and not cross-like with strange nooks.  I would definitely consider converting if it weren't for the Church's position on feminist and gay issues.


17. Februar
Romania or bust!


13. Februar
The girl behind the counter at Starbucks today got excited when I told her my name, because apparently a character from Grey's Anatomy also has the name Al(l)ison. Being the crappy American that I am, I had to admit that I've never seen the show, but on the other hand, I did compromise my values enough to head to Starbucks in the first place, so I guess there's not moral high ground here. I need a reality check: what country am I in again?
Also, the "showing the Germans what s'mores are all about" worked out marginally well. The toaster functioned brilliantly--no danger of flaming marshmallows, and perfectly golden brown every time. The biggest problem: the Germans didn't want "s'more". They were either "too full" or the s'mores were "so sweet that you can't handle more than one". *Eyeroll*. That type of self-restraint is SO antithetical to the very principle of s'mores that it makes me sick to my stomach. Or maybe that's just those 20 jumbo marshmallows that I just got done eating...


11. Februar
Proof that I'm not just being bigoted when I say the Swiss are bizarre. You've gotta love them, though.


06. Februar
I'm starting to despise myself for sampling the forbidden fruit called "Second Life" and finding it...intriguing. (For those of you who don't know what I'm talking about: STAY AWAY and give praise to god that he has deigned you worthy of preserving your innocence.) My only semi-legitimate and somewhat nerdy justification: I was checking out the website of the World Economic Forum that just took place in Davos when I stumbled upon a press release that explained that Reuters news service was going to interview key global economic players in the virtual world of Second Life. Several hours later, I still haven't managed to find the Reuters news service in this bizarre technological netherworld, but the addiction is already setting in.
In other news, the "A" key on my keyboard seems to be partially jammed.
In other news, I was reading up on Aristotle's view of the morality of the masses when I came across a passage where he compares the common good to "the meals where many have added their part and that are thus better than those that are hosted by only a single individual." I take this to mean that Aristotle was a fan of potlucks.


04. Februar
Shit. Why do I so often get the feeling that I don't know myself at all?


01. Februar
Hmmm...not quite sure what's up with me today. I was sitting in the Strassenbahn tonight when I realized I really need some sex. Either that, or I need some quality time at the piano. Ideally, both.
I blame February.
Happy Black History Month, everybody! (Thank god for John Stewart online, or I would have forgotten.)


31. January
Instead of writing my final papers like I should have been doing, I spent a good hour and a half this evening philosophizing about the nature of art with my roommates. What I decided (and not all of them agree with/understand my conclusion, since this stuff is hard to translate): art is a moment that lifts you out of routine.
Art exists along a continuum between the historical and the novel, with the real beauty lying in the balance. The droves of old Flemish paintings of the Virgin with her oddly-proportioned, big-headed Christ child that seem so popular in Europe are not art to me. They are history, yes, but not art--to me. I know this probably sounds kind of trite, but it was a pretty big revelation for me.
Anyways, then my roommate spilled some water on the floor, pointed at the splotch and called it art, and we all laughed. He got pretty offended and insisted that "no joke"--he found it aesthetically beautiful. And we, of course, were all forced to affirm his right to do so. I'm finally starting to grasp what a bunch of weirdos we are.
I've also realized that the reason I enjoy playing with foreign language so much is because it makes me aware of the fact that I'm thinking--a process which would otherwise go unexamined and unnoticed. It's pretty profound to be able to "sense" yourself thinking.


29. January
I am such a technology fiend. I just got a new cell phone today--the cheapest available, but it is still ten times sweeter than my old one--and I'm now in gadget heaven. It's got a camera that takes grainy thumbnail shots, lots of tinny-sounding ringtones, and a labyrinthian user interface, but I'm still thrilled. The best part: it must have some sort of built-in tracking device, because if I lose it, I can log into my account online and use the "Handy-Finder" service, which not only sends a text message to the phone telling it that it's been "found", but also displays a little map on my computer screen with the precise location of the phone (within 100m accuracy level in the city, and approximately 1km accuracy level in the country). I know this should creep me out, but instead I just can't stop beaming.


23. January
I'm pretty peeved that I still can't manage to pronounce the German "r" properly. I think I'll just give myself up as a lost cause. What REALLY pisses me off, though, is that I happen to come from a country called "AmeRica". Every time I sense the word "America" eitering into the context, I panic, start racking my brain for possible alternative choices of diction, come up with nothing, and inevitably stammer the word out, but unintelligibly enough that I'm met with a friendly "huh?" and am forced to REPEAT the entire embarrassing process.
And should anyone be wondering about the Plan name change: I've gone radical and joined the Unitarian Jihad. To be honest, I'm really only doing it for all the goodies that may or may not be promised to me by a "god(dess) figure" of dubious existence in a heaven that may or may not exist.


21. January
Read an article today by a German citizen who had returned home after having spent 13 years in South Africa and who was musing on all the cultural idiosyncracies that make Germany so depressing. Now, maybe my German has gotten worse over the past few months, or maybe I'm just going insane, but I'm pretty sure the author mentioned something about "squirrels receiving anal massages".
Also, you know that you've gotten overly ambitious when you're doing research for a paper and the author quotes a paragraph from Cicero (without translation) and then concludes that "thus, it should be obvious..." Yeah, right, Herr Obtuse Philosopher--about as obvious as ancient Greek. And to think I'm one of the lucky few who actually HAD four years of Latin...


20. January
I was on the tram tonight heading to a party when I ran into a group of mildly obnoxious, somewhat boisterous and drunken American students who started their (English-speaking) exchange program in Freiburg about two weeks ago. I asked one of the guys, in English, where he was from, but I don't think he quite heard me and then another one asked back in drunken German: "What did you say?" Needless to say, I switched over to German and played along. Pretty soon, I've got a group of about five random Americans surrounding me (one of them was even from Iowa), thinking I'm German and flattered that I'd bother to talk to them. They asked if I was impressed by the fact that they, as Americans, could speak German so well, and they kept mentioning random places they'd been for 2-week high school exchanges, and I'd sort of nod and pretend I recognized the region. They even asked me my opinion on EU politics and Angela Merkel, and I had to sort of stammer out some BS about EU politics being "above" the general public, etc. Hehe, I feel so evil and haughty--it's delicious. That's what they get for embarrassing me and my fellow countrymen with their public drunkenness.
N.B.: Why must "embarrass" have two "r"s? That one's been plaguing me since 2nd grade.
Oh yeah. I should also mention that I just lived through a hurricane named "Kyrill". It was really no big deal--particularly for an experience tornado dodger like myself. I even feel like we got a bit short-changed when it comes to rain, although the wind was fun.


15. January
I am absolutely bowled over after learning today that the Germans are actually expected to PAY for their right to receive radio signals on whatever types of radio receivers they happen to own. This effectively means that they are expected to pay monthly fees for their televisions, radios, and "new-fangled radio receivers" (loosely translated), whatever that means. We're talking 16,56 EUR for three months of radio! There are, of course, exemptions for people on welfare, students on financial aid, the elderly, high school graduates fulfilling their mandatory civil service or military duties, people seeking political asylum, the hard of hearing, blind people or people with a visual handicap of at least a 60% degree of severity, people with general handicaps with at least an 80% degree of severity, and wounded war veterans. In order to receive these exemptions, however, you'll naturally be expected to present a valid form of identification, proof of handicap, or other official document proving your exempted status.
The best part is, this system means that they've had to develop a bureaucracy to monitor people's houses and charge accordingly. (See <http://www.gez.de/> for more information.) So, when the GEZ guy comes knocking, you'd better switch off any signs of radioactivity pretty quickly or you risk being charged. I am told, however, that you are not required by law to actually allow the guy to search your house. *Sigh*. Such is the silly system of sinecures that the German bureaucracy devises to keep people happy and employed.
On the one hand, this system is arguably better than pledge week on PBS and allows the government to fund kick-ass shows like "Die Sendung mit der Maus". On the other hand, it's just BIZARRE.


12. January
I count myself among the lucky few who have the privilege of writing a paper using such delectable words as:

Sprachaufnahmefaehigkeit
Fremdsprachenunterricht
Akkulturationshypothese
Refelxionsgelegenheit
Sprachanpassungsfaehigkeit

The only downside: I've got 2.5 more papers' worth of privilege.
I also still can't get my head around the German word for "foreigner": Auslaender. Translated literally, it means someone who is "outside of the country". The problem is, they use it not only for tourists, but also for immigrants--who are most decidedly NOT outside of the country and may not ever go back to a place outside of the county. I suppose it's no better than our term "alien", which places poor immigrants even farther outside the realm of "native reality", but I'm still perplexed. Maybe that's what sociology's for.
In other news, I can now report that every single stereotype about the Germans that has ever been created is currently being shattered right in my very own kitchen. That's right--my roommate and three of his friends have decided it would be a good idea to go shirtless and strut around to such hits as "It's Raining Men", "I Feel Like Dancing", and "Like a Virgin". And they hadn't even had THAT much wine.


9. January
Today was a good, albeit wholly unproductive day. I performed manual labor at my internship carting around books for about three hours. I then helped a schoolteacher find appropriate books about human rights for her classroom and got a lecture from an ex-soldier on how to properly write the date (year first, then A.D., then month, day, minute, second). Apparently, everybody's doing it that way these days. Even the Americans. Who knew?
I also had a discussion on the relative merits of gift receits, during which I was made to realize that they serve their intended purpose of not revealing the price to the recipient ONLY if the recipient decides NOT to use them. This discussion and subsequent revelation was prompted by a rather harrowing experience in Karstadt (German department/electronics store) where I had to tactfully and somewhat baffledly convince the store's designated electronics expert that I really should be able to take back an MP3 player that I bought before Christmas just because I didn't really like it, and not because anything was wrong with it. I'm pretty sure I turned beet red during the whole ordeal, as I usually do. He, figuring I was a bluthering idiot for buying something I didn't really want in the first place, agreed to take it back, all the while insisting that he wasn't "legally bound to do so". I, having figured that German chain stores are as generous as American chains with their return policies, was verdutzt.
I then had the pleasure of rediscovering the old Apple II version of Oregon Trail and can now look forward to hours of procrastinative enjoyment in the coming weeks.


3. January
My sister has turned into a really cool kid. I'm starting to regret all of the mind games I put her through over the years. Even worse, I'm actually starting to get sort of jealous...

18. November
Sitting in the aftermath of a pretty wild party that the roommates and I put on last night. My main contribution was five boxes' worth of puppy chow. It seemed to be a hit, since anything with peanut butter here is immediately pegged as "exotic".
It was a very educational evening. For example, I learned that the Spanish version of "tortilla" has nothing to do with the Mexican idea of tortillas, and instead is more like a really thick omelette. I also learned that four glasses of wine maybe isn't quite enough for an evening, and I probably could have used more like six. Also, I had a chat with a Brit:

Random British dude: So, I decided that, in order to get myself away from the drug scene, I needed a change of scenery and needed to leave London. That's how I ended up in Freiburg.
Me: Right. Well, Freiburg is...um...nice. And we've been enjoying very fine weather recently.
Random British dude: (referring to his roommate, who was also at the party) By the way, did I mention that he's perfect?
Me: Um, yes, only about a hundred times already. (Brit dude seemed very intent on conveying the extent of his roommate's perfection.)
Random British dude: Well, he IS perfect.
Me: Well, I suppose it's possible to be TOO perfect.
Random British dude: No, it's not. Because then you wouldn't be perfect.

I was, however, able to glean one major piece of wisdom from this conversation

Random British dude: Look around at these people here. Do you want to get to know them?
Me: (ponderous pause) Probably.
Random British dude: Then you will.

And I think he's right. I just need more conviction.
And now, after a little less than four hours of sleep, I was able to greet my dad in Freiburg. Fortunately, he's just as drained as I am after having stepped off a plane from India. He was, however, polite enough to stay awake long enough so that we could head to my favorite, semi-expensive brewery for a half liter each and some very stereotypically German food (involving plenty of meat, of course).


14. November
Procrastination: makes it happen. Or not. The first (2-page) paper of the semester is always tough, though, right?
In happier news, I enjoyed a very "mature" pizza (olives, gorgonzola, arugula, etc.) with the roomies tonight and now THEY'RE washing the dishes.


12. November
Sunday morning swim = refreshing
Sunday morning pancakes = a flop


8. November
NOT my idea of what Richard Wagner's "Das Rheingold" ought to look like:
-a rotund baritone with dreads and a nice little leather ensemble bouncing around the stage and thrusting a spear
-a Michael Moore look-alike with a fisherman's vest and red baseball cap casually perching himself on stage right in order to roll and smoke a cigarette
-a smaller Asian man with long hair, knee socks, cowboy boots and hat, a Speedo (!), and a knee-length fur coat coming on to a woman with the frizziest red fro this planet has ever seen (with the exception of Carrot Top) and a larger-than-life string of plastic "pearls" that she liked to swing around her head and then smack on the stage

Apparently, someone at the Freiburg City Theater thought this made a lot of sense.


7. November
Today, I experienced something as astounding as it was terrifying. I am taking a class on the philosophy of the state, and for most German courses, it is pretty standard practice to require students to 1) give a presentation, 2) write a term paper, and 3) write a "Protokoll", which is basically a summary of one of the class periods, like a secretary taking minutes. In addition to having very specific requirements regarding presentations (one is expected to highlight the "epistemological interest" and pose a "disputable thesis" for discussion at the end), the professor for this class has a very bizarre approach to working through the process of knowledge. At the start of class, 30 minutes were designated to the reading, critiquing, and fleshing-out of last week's "Protokoll". Everyone was handed a copy to read through, and then the floor was open for critique. Students took issue with everything from the basic structure to font usage (the value of bold face really can't be overstated) to comma placement (!). The Protokoll-takers are now expected to take these suggestions into account, rewrite the stupid thing, and send it to all of us via e-mail. This means that it takes at least TWO WEEKS of dragging out the platitudes and triviality before the process is "finished". (Recognizing, of course, that true science can never be considered "finished".) The creepiest part was that none of the German students seemed as taken aback by these banalities as I was. It seemed almost--*shudder*--normal to them.
In other news, I stumbled into a beautiful mini-metropolitan harmony today as dusk was settling and I was walking home from a relatively unproductive internship session. I followed the streetcar tracks past the theater, which always exudes a daunting and irresistible historical gravity and exoticism, but which was more potent tonight as the warmth of the box office started to suck me in and away from the cold. I then glimpsed the spire of the Münster peering out over the roofs of the little cluster of bookstores near the university. Granted, the Münster's scaffolding always robs it of some of its enchantment, but for me it was still a friendly reminder of proper perspective. I hadn't eaten much lunch, so I grabbed a Döner and headed to the streetcar stop, where I was greeted by an oboe/cello duet playing something that seemed vaguely familiar. Knowing how expensive oboe reeds are, I dropped 50 cents into the case (couldn't find any more change in time), hopped on the streetcar, and rode home content.

Happy election day! Germany's excited, so I sure hope you guys are.


2. November
Germany has a vastly different style of paper management--particularly when it comes to hole punches and binders. People, we're talking TWO-RING binders.
I have now successfully managed to navigate the labyrinthian German print material system: two library cards, one student ID card, two libraries, various city archives, and three copy shops later, and I now own ALL of my "Readers" for this semester. (Yes, course materials packets are called "Readers". *Eyeroll*. Just don't get me started on "Handouts"...)


1. November
Germany has a university system based on a more long-term, overarching concept of knowledge. This translates into 2-4 semesters of lectures to acquire basic knowledge (which are attended on a voluntary basis and which don't require outside work) and seminars (less self-directed and more like the liberal arts concept we know). After this "Grundstudium" portion of your course of study, you are required to pass an oral exam to determine how and if you'll continue on to graduate. Your entire first two or so years are focused on passing this test, and, if you don't have the resources to prolong your studies long enough to retake the test, this exam determines whether or not you'll graduate.
A friend of mine is studying to be a teacher. He did not pass the exam. He cannot afford not to have passed the exam. He literally will not be able to support himself long enough to finish studying, and his life has pretty much turned into a high-stakes crap shoot. I am absolutely astounded by the shit he has had to put up with in order to even be able to get to a university: sick parents, being placed in a "lower-level" high school (Germany sorts kids into pre-professional vs. college prep at the tender age of ten), a community pressuring him to "stay in his place" and satisfy himself with his job as a sanitation facilities worker. But for whatever reason, his brain wouldn't let him "stay in his place", and he fought like mad to get a college prep diploma ("Abitur") with virtually no support from his parents--financial or emotional--in order to be able to go to the university. Because of this nonsense, his studies have been delayed by about eight years and he's quite a bit older than most of the rest of us.
He is not dumb, and sees social realities clearer than pretty much everyone I've ever met. And yet, he was not immune to stage fright, absolutely froze up during the exam, failed, and was told not-so-subtly by the examiners that perhaps he should take his age into account and consider alternative career paths. (To me, this reeks of ageism.) Beyond that, the department is under pressure from above to separate the wheat from the chaff and turn Freiburg into and "elite institution"; it appears that the new theory of responsible education is no longer to help motivated individuals become self-actualized and productive members of society, but rather to produce some vague illusion of "academic excellence".
The cruelest irony is that Germany is in desperate need of good teachers, and now they've quite likely alienated one of their most promising candidates.
I don't feel quite right about broadcasting other people's miseries, but I need to get it out there. We're new enough acquaintances that I'm surprised he was willing to go into so much detail with me, and I feel ashamed that I have never had to really fight for anything in my life. I don't think I would have had the strength of character to make it as far as he has, has my circumstances been different. Actually, I know for a fact that I couldn't have done it.

Education is not smoke and mirrors. It is a human service, or better yet, a basic human right. It is also a brilliant tool to help micro-adjust for societal injustices that inevitably arise in countries with liberalized economies. And yet, the institution of education can so easily be abused, misapplied, capitalized, institutionalized, and lose its humanity.


29. Oktober
Today was lovely. Swimming in the morning with the roomies was very refreshing and just what the doctor ordered. It was also amusing to see the harmonious orderliness of the "Hallenbad": there was the lap pool with its tacit understanding that everybody just keeps swimming back and forth and isn't doing handstands or otherwise being disruptive--for that, you've got the kiddy/goof-off pool. Last but not least, of course, is the diving board area, where it's pretty much a free-for-all; I don't think I heard a single lifeguard's whistle the entire time I was there. I love the Germans (Europeans?) and their perfectly logical sense of personal responsibility.
After skillfully avoiding a heap of reading, it was off to the theater to see a hyper-modernized version of a play by Kleist. A brief summary: skeleton puppets, various sets of actors screaming at each other simultaneously for different reasons, demi-dreads on the main female character, lots of sweating, some cheesy blood packets bursting (three or four times), full-frontal nudity, followed by a Romeo and Juliet-esque lovers' death scene. Oh yeah, and instead of sitting and facing the stage in the nice, plush seats of the theater, we were sitting BEHIND the stage in tiers of folding chairs, looking through the stage out into the theater hall. Call me a traditionalist, but for the most part I really can't quite grasp what they were thinking...


27. Oktober
I've been nostalgic for the past two days or so. I sent my dad a birthday e-card yesterday and also mentioned that I was sick, and my mom gave me a call about seven hours later to see how I was doing. That totally set me off--I started missing my bed at home and the prospect of pumpkin pie for Thanksgiving. Then iTunes started playing Van Morrison's "Moondance", a song we used to play in marching band, and I began missing the days of slacking off during percussion practice and my uniform and my little set of marching bells. Then I started thinking about how I won't be able to make it to camp next year and how I'm going to miss the craziness and midnight swims and the Birkenbäume and driving around in the Chevy Impala. And every time I go to the music room here and see their miserable excuse for a piano, I start thinking about all those Steinways tucked away in the basement of Bucksbaum (I know it's ungrateful of me, but I can't help it). *Sigh*.

Many thanks to [kanolmin] and her brother for the delicious soup.


25. Oktober
Sickness = Homesickness


24. Oktober
[lamberte] is here and I only regret that I've got so much going on and can't quite give her a proper Freiburg tour. The start of the semester combined with the fact that I've got some inexplicable, not-so-severe but nonetheless uncomfortable stomach illness is making things difficult. (I'm starting to wonder if [fossvick] and I have some psychic connection when it comes to illness.)
But happiness still! I've discovered that [lamberte] in Germany is the same as [lamberte] everywhere else. =)
I have to say, though, that the honeymoon phase in my relationship with the Strassenbahn is officially over. After a sobering and pricey enounter with three very burly and intimidating ticket checkers, the innocent infatuation has vanished.

16. Oktober
I was out of town this weekend doing kiddie activities with my cousins-in-law and their two daughters. Coloring, building lanterns, watching Pippi Longstocking--the usual. I returned home to find a freshly-painted mint-green hallway complete with a new storage unit. I'm proud of my roommates, and only slightly less proud of thier color choice.
In other news, I made the mistake tonight of watching a somewhat intoxicated "punk" (Freiburg's version of a politically-aware hobo) as he stumbled around in front of the city theater. Once I realized he had sensed I was watching, I started wandering away and, of course, he started following me and demanding to know whether I "thought I had more rights than he did", etc. I walked back to the Strassenbahn stop with him following me and, just as we were face to face and I was absolutely dumbstruck, two guys sort of swooped in and surrounded him, telling him to lay off. They then stood there and sort of patted his arm and tolerated his rant about the SPD and CDU and god knows what other political complaints he came up with. While he was distracted, a woman came over and gave me a very quick sympathetic glance. The punk then left on the next Strassenbahn and the other guys sort of cocked their hats and walked off. Lessons learned: people are good; frustration and alcohol are a bad combination.

11. Oktober
It's so maddening discussing politics here, because I always leave with the feeling that I'm hopelessly underinformed. It's insane how closely the Germans follow the concatenations of American politics. To save face, I'm going to have to become a newspaper junkie.
I managed to secure myself a Praktikum (internship), which, in all honesty, is no major feat, since all I basically had to do was show up and say "Hi, please let me work for you. Oh, and I'll do it for free, of course". Also, the contact was made by one of our "counselors" at the study abroad center, so it was a pretty done deal even before I walked in. Still, I was ridiculously nervous going into the "interview", which was actually less of an interview and more the center director just sitting there, crossing his legs, cocking his head, and kind of waiting for me to pose questions. Oh dear, I have no clue how I'll ever manage to get a real job...

8. Oktober
Hemmed some pants today. I did a pretty lame job. It kind of makes me miss my mommy. =(

Also, for [garrecht] (sorry if it's cheesy):

ODE TO THE STRASSENBAHN

A mechanical whirr, hyper-modern yet inviting
you glide to a halt and flash your little green door button lights with impatience.
Inside your belly, the mass is already churning
attentively, ready to seep out so that others can creep in.
EIN - AUS - UM
EIN - AUS - UM
the pulse of the people who can scarcely imagine
a life without you,
the veins of the city.

Your constancy is astounding, but regularity is only skin-deep.
Inside it is gray-scale green black jacket-clad
jeans-wearing
shivering.
Because it is cold.
Every now and then you get a character who warms up your belly,
but they are gone quickly enough.
They are all gone quickly enough.

And what about you?
You, too, are new.
Just take a glance beyond your tracks and you will see
that life there was and life there will be--without you.

6. Oktober
Spent a little time online tonight trying to figure out how to transfer money into my brand-spanking-new German bank account without having to go through cumbersome cash transactions. I ended up calling the Wells Fargo hotline, explaining my situation, and was then put on hold for about ten minutes while the woman pondered my predicament, painted her nails, grabbed a quick cup of coffee, and who knows what else. When she finally comes back, her first line was: "Well, what you can do is...wait...I'm assuming they have banks over there, right?" I replied in the affirmative. (Lady, the Germans and the Swiss INVENTED banks. Besides, how does she think I opened the account in the first place?!) "Well, you'll need to take your debit card and what you're trying to do is called an 'over-the-counter cash advance'..."
So I'm thinking, "Haha. Try explaining THAT to a German teller." But, I guess the joke's on me, since that's most likely what I'll be doing tomorrow.

5. Oktober
While I was making noodles for dinner, my roommates gave me crap for "wasting energy" by using a burner that was slightly too large for the pot I was using. I mean, I can definitely appreciate the "green" sentiment, but aren't we maybe taking this a little too far?  And this is coming from people who, despite my repeated attempts to work out a system, can't seem to figure out how to sort the garbage properly so that it can be recycled.
Other than that, we've got a blissful co-existence.

4. Oktober
3 new roommates + 1 freshly-painted kitchen = 6 happy roommates

30. September
Skipped out on the genuine Münchner Oktoberfest in favor of a mini-Oktoberfest (no more than 40 people) in a tiny bar in Regensburg. Boy, was it worth it. "Wahnsinn", "YMCA", "Über den Wolken" and all of the other brilliant Schlager that [lamberte] and I appreciate so well.
I'm proud to say, though, that my university in Freiburg is ten times cuter than the Regensburg Uni.

27. September
It's pretty sweet to be able to stroll over to the Brandenburger Tor, by way of Alexanderplatz and the Fernsehturm. In this city, history tickles you every time you turn your head--but it's not the same quaint, stagnant middle-ages history of southern Germany. I'm liking it.
Also, I attended a ridiculously cheesy performance of a "musical" called Casanova last night, complete with trampolines, gymnasts, a swimming pool (with the requisite synchronized swimmers included), some raunchy but styliyed sex scenes, and a man suspended from the ceiling and "ejaculating" glitter. Bizarre, to say the least.

24. September
I'm taking a jaunt over to Berlin for about a week, then on to Regensburg to visit a friend from camp (and perhaps partake in the Oktoberfest festivities).
Today's activites included:
-a "birthday party" involving a hike on a vineyard-covered demi-mountain, from which the birthday boy was conspicuously absent (I guess he got lazy at the last minute and stood us up)
-chatting with a old wine producer while trying the "neuer Suesser"--which is essentially grape juice--and politely pretending to understand his thick Badish accent and very understated boastings about his two children
-eating walnuts with said wine producer, who was cracking them much faster than the group of us could down them
-talking cars and politics (and historical politics and East German politics) with my roommate
-realizing that the Germans invert the "miles per gallon" measure into "liters per 100km" and that, consequently, it is nearly impossible to explain how ridiculously fuel-inefficient a Hummer is without having a calculator for a brain
-scrumptious dinner: Flammkuchen and a Kugel. Schokolecker.

20. September
Feeling incredibly and shamefully lazy when it comes to the prospect of arranging an internship. Hab gar keinen Bock. In better news, I had visitors for the past few days--two friends from camp this past summer. We didn't exactly paint the town red, but we managed maybe a pinkish hue, and it was a great distraction from all the subjunctive grammar madness.

18. September
I just realized that the direct translation of the German word for vacuum cleaner is "dust sucker". Funny it's taken me this long to realize that.

12. September
Room is newly outfitted with 100 euros' worth of IKEA junk. I LOVE it! I've also taken to hanging free tourist maps on my walls for lack of anything more substantial to help combat the mind-numbing institutional whiteness. Good thing I tend to like the aesthetics of maps. And a fun factoid: Germany has its own version of Facebook called "StudiVZ", and it's pretty much the spitting image of our own beloved time-killing stalkers' paradise (I sense a lawsuit coming on), except it's red! It's like I've fallen through the center of the Earth and come out in a new land where...well, where Facebook is RED.
I made dinner really late last night, starting at about 8, as I was washing my new IKEA bed linens. My roommate was around and we started talking politics, and the next thing I knew it was 11 (!) and I'd forgotten about my laundry. Goal for the next week: find some sort of justification for why Bush's intelligence vacuum isn't necessarily sucking all Americans down with him.

9. September
Wine tasting in Elsass today included: Cremant Rose, Pinot Gris, Gewurztraminer, and one other one that I've forgotten but that wasn't all that good. It was one sleepy bus ride back, let me tell you. I'm also really loving my dorm complex, which is notoriously hippie-ish and which is about as close as you can get to Grinnell without actually being in Grinnell. The Americans from the program all got together for a grill party while the Germans sat around watching from their windows until we managed to get the coals started, then about twenty people congregated and started grilling random Würste they had lying around in their fridges. Cuteness.

Grrr. I hate being an introvert and not liking the night life (except the occasional beer garden). I'm not even THAT bad--it just feels like it, and it's kind of soul-sucking.
I really like beng a nerd, but it's not as fun here as it is in Grinnell...
For all interested parties: I currently have no internet access, but am optimistic that it will be coming soon and that I will then be able to give much more thorough updates.


Jetzt geht alles langsam bergab... I arrived to find a grimy apartment, no roommates, and two trash bags that were starting to spawn fruit flies. In the meantime, I've met two roommates--one who evokes in me some weird high school catty paranoia, the other who is incredibly chill and Grinnellian--and the apartment has gotten a bit cleaner. I've pledged to clean the bathroom myself tomorrow. I also had an interesting chat about the Weimar Republic and the German legal system, which was pleasantly educational and helped fulfill my daily dosage of "Grinnell moments". Please recognize how incredibly special our school is, people.


Grinnell seems very inaccessible right now, and it scares me. How can I be getting cold feet right now? I'm exhausted.

"For the barrier of language is sometimes a blessed barrier, which only lets pass what is good. Or--to put the thing less cynically--we may be better in new clean words, which have never been tainted by our pettiness or vice." ~E.M. Forester, "Where Angels Fear to Tread"

Freiburg is treating me astoundingly well thus far, though the new social situation is, admittedly, throwing me for a loop.  I am reminded of some wisdom from Vicki, whose theory is that introverts are more easily over-stimulated and have the propensity to shut down in, rather than become charged up by, groups of strange people.  I'm now struggling relatively successfully against my shut-down mode, which is exhausting, but which would be a million times more difficult if I had to deal with communication issues.  So thanks, Concordia, for teaching me German in the most painless way possible.  But enough of the abstract introspection...

Some of the things I've noticed recently:
-I haven't seen any evidence of student "chumminess" so far, or it's at least not as much of a given as in the US; in the US, it seems like many college students switch into "chum" mode for four years and at least feign some sort of instant rapport, whereas here, everyone has an "Einzelzimmer" with the door closed
-my Postfach is too small to receive packages; I'm really eager to figure out what kind of Paeckchenabholssystem they've got in place here
-my laundry card looks ridiculously old-school and was probably printed in the 1970s
-somehow, no matter where I am, my room always ends up acquiring a certain smell--sort of a detergent-y, cozy, stuffed-animal, cushy fragrance--and I have no clue where it comes from, since I've frequently switched detergents, shower gels, etc.
-southern Germany = Wisconsin, was die Landschaft angeht
-Strassenbahnen are brilliant
-I desperately require random philosophizing opportunities in order not to feel like I'm losing my mind in a whirlwind of ditziness; fortunately, I've got Mine around (another Grinnellian), and one of my roommates (a law & philosophy major) is turning out to be a big help in this respect, as well
-I learned that there are more ways to check out a book at the Unibibliothek than my myopic American mind could have ever dreamed of
-I also was delighted by the most surprising display of German efficiency I've yet seen: book rollercoasters that cart around books from the stacks to the reserve room

And for the Waldsee people: the CLV world is eerily small.  We have these orientation helpers called "housing tutors", and I was randomly chatting with the housing tutor in my dorm one night, only to discover that he's actually a distant cousin of Rudi, whom he's never met, but who is apparently an avid genealogist and who sends him random e-mail updates about long-lost (and long-dead) uncles, cousins, etc.  The second I heard that, I knew we were talking about the same Rudi.  Crazy, huh?

Well, this is definitely CLV, but it's CLV in a much less entrenched, much more improvisational style.  At Waldsee, everything is spur-of-the-moment, but at least it's spur-of-the-moment with at least one other colleague.  Here, you're on, and you're all alone, but at least the kids are ridiculously polite and eager and respectful in a more demure, European way.  I can't even explain how weird it is to reply with a hearty "enjoy your meal" rather than the standard "danke, gleichfalls" after each meal presentation.  It's basically Waldsee times twenty on the corniness scale, since everything seems cheesier in one's native language.  I'm coming to realize that English can be a really harsh, ugly language--particularly during "Rock n' Roll" time.

It's odd to think that there was a time when all I wanted was to hop on a bus and get away from this place.  Now, seven years later, I'd do pretty much anything to be able to stick around for a few more weeks.  If it weren't for Switzerland, the Waldseeweh would be overwhelming.  Chalk it up to major mental growing pains, but I still can't get over the fact that I can wander around "aus dem Haus" on my own without fear of chastisement from Betreuer on their infamous Rundgaenge.  I AM that Betreuerin now, and it creeps me out in the best way possible.  It also helps give life the appropriate sense of subjectivity.  Had you found my seventh-grade self, roughing it in one of the Kleinhaeuser (Haus Linz!), and told me that one day I would monitor the camp budget, teach Tagesthemen, carry a master key, etc, there is no way I would have ever been able to envision it.  I don't think it has so much to do with being power hungry--I think I'm just more in awe of the fact that life is so absolutely inexorable.  It's tragic, in a way.  It makes me wonder what impossibilities are still in store.

So, I have this roommate here who's completely out of her mind... Oh, and I'm secretly stealing her socks very discreetly, one by one, just to see if she starts noticing. After that, I think I'll start ripping pages out of her dictionary (if she even has one)...

(hehe Ed, just testing you)

Honestly, though, this job is driving me crazy, but I think in a good way. So far, I've acquired the following, itemized list job skills:
-knowing my way around Bemidji, MN
-honing my "polite and calm" parent-appropriate phone voice
-understanding how to process people in the most efficient way possible (does that sound creepy?)
-FAXING!!! (my new favorite task)
-realizing that NOT all money is the same (there's retail money, purchasing money, payroll money, food service money...)
-realizing that most people (besides me) don't realize that not all money is the same--this drives me up the wall!
-FAXING
-conference calling
-juggling, juggling, juggling
-discovering that, not matter how easy you try to make things for people, they will always find a way to make it harder than it needs to be and you will be the one to have to explain it to them a bazillion times
-faxing
-figuring out the proper implementation of German Schimpfwoerter
-learning how to LOVE and TRULY APPRECIATE the power of envelopes (Oh, Mighty Manila God of office supplies, I am forever your humble and adoring servant.)
-and, most crucial of all: learning people kennen! (which is the reason I started working here in the first place)

And it's all over so painfully soon.  =(