Freiburg and Travels
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...
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...