Life in Merry Freiburg
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.
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.