Life with Umlauts

Yo kann ein bisschen Español hablar...

2010-07-10T14:07:00.000+02:00

Upon learning that I spent a year in Germany and how hard I worked to learn German, a lot of people ask innocently, "What's the value in speaking German? Don't they all speak English anyway?" I give them the usual line about the economic and political importance of the US-Germany relationship, how German is the most spoken native language and second most spoken foreign language in the EU, why being multilingual just makes intercultural communication easier, etc.

But during our long transition back to normality this summer, I quickly realized the limits of German language proficiency and a potential disadvantage of being quasi-multilingual. You see, I've been working every day this summer since returning for my father-in-law's landscaping business. Which means neither my native tongue nor the second one I poured my heart and soul into over the last 18 months helps at all. My mental instinct is still to speak German when stuck in a foreign-language environment, because that has been my reality for the last year. Instead, I have to reach back into the dusty recesses of my brain and dig out the grade school Spanish files because my Mexican coworkers certainly don't speak German and almost no English. This all means that I feel even more inept at work than I did last year and speak the most embarrassingly broken Spanish ever (below in green) accidentally intermixed with German constructions (below in red) and English (in black) when all else fails. And this has some rather hilarious effects:

"Hoy esta das Wetter mucho caliente. " (The weather is hot today.)

"Wir haben already dos shovels. Necesitamos noch zwei más." (We already have two shovels. We need two more.)

"Yo creo that we should start mit digging aquí, oder?" (I think that we should start with digging here, right?)

"A dónde soll ich these tools poner? Aquí oder allí?" (Where should I take these tools? Here or over there?)

"Ja, let's trabajo zusammen!" (Yes, let's work together!)

"Yo kann ein bisschen Español hablar, aber not so bueno." (I can speak a little Spanish, but not so good.)

They just look at me even more confused than my German colleagues ever did. Oh the adventures with languages. At least it all makes sense in my head.

Life Without Umlauts

2010-07-02T15:51:00.006+02:00

It's been a while, dear readers. Much has happened since my last post about German words. Namely, we packed up our life in Germany and moved back to the States. But if you happen to be one of our few loyal fans who still continues checking in for an update instead of being productive at work, well, wait no longer.

I have been back in the States for exactly a month now. Culture shock began the moment I was greeted heartily by the "Welcome home" of the smiling, Southern-drawling customs official at the airport. And the culture shock moments have been adding up though ever since. Here are eleven for starters:

-I must drive to the grocery store now rather than walk or ride the subway. Sometimes I need to get back in the car if I want to visit the store... next door.

-Everyone greets me with a big smile and a beautiful tone of informality.

-The check-out ladies at the store gladly bag my groceries, even though they seem shocked if when I present my own canvas bag or decline to use any bag at all.

-Recycling in the US is about a decade behind Europe.

-Air-conditioning exists. Americans don't fear drafts like the Germans do. Thankfully.

-I have two hundred TV channels to choose from rather than twenty. I've quickly realized, however, that more does not equal better.

-Americans wear more colorful clothing and more shorts, and flip-flops seem to be required attire in warm weather months. The very sound of flip-flops is unescapable. I haven't decided how I feel about this yet.

-My pockets are lighter because I lack one- and two-Euro coins.

-A liter of Coke once again costs noticeably less than a liter of beer. I preferred it the other way around.

-I must calculate for tips again at restaurants. This is a royal pain.

-Umlauts no longer adorn signs.

So, our life with umlauts has come to its end, but readjusting to life without umlauts might take a little more time. I will probably still add a few more entries over the next few weeks to wrap up my reflections on the past year. Stay tuned.

Answers to German Linguistic Directness Quiz

2010-05-25T18:01:00.007+02:00

For all of you anxious to get the answers to last week's quiz on German Directness, you will find them here:

Glühbirne: glowing pear = light bulb

Kühlschrank: cool cabinet = refrigerator

Handschuhe: hand shoes = gloves

Fahrstuhl: riding chair = elevator

Fingerhut: finger hat = thimble

Unkraut: not an herb = a weed

Zahnfleisch: tooth flesh = gums

Blinddarm: blind/dummy intestine = appendix

Gehirnerschütterung: brain jolting/shaking = concussion

Durchfall: fall through = diarrhea

Gelbsucht: yellow addiction (ailment) = jaundice

Nacktschnecke: naked snail = slug

Stinktier: stink animal = skunk

Nashorn: nose horn = rhinoceros

Hundertfüßer: hundred footer = centipede

Waschbär: wash bear = raccoon

Nilpferd/Flusspferd: Nile/River horse = hippopotamus

Vorfreude: pre-joy = anticipation

Muskelkater: muscle hangover = muscle soreness you experience the day after a hard workout

Brustwarze: breast wart = nipple

Staubsauger: dust sucker = vacuum cleaner

Ausweglosigkeit: state of having no way out = hopelessness

Vorstandsvorsitzender: in a company, the one who stands in front of those who sit in front = the chairman of the board

Thanks to everyone who played, and double thanks to everyone who posted their best guesses. Lots of right answers, and many of you seem ready to take the plunge and enroll in a German course of your own.

German and Me: Linguistic Directness

2010-05-19T00:13:00.004+02:00

Germans are known for being direct and straightforward, especially in comparison to us equivocating Americans. I’ve found this to be generally true. They say what they mean. They mean what they say. Punkt. But this cultural directness is also amazingly reflected in the German language. Take, for instance, our word ambulance. If you didn’t know the English word, there’s nothing about it that suggests what it is. Conversely, the German word is Krankenwagen, which just the two words Kranken (“the sick”) + wagen (“car”), or simply “sick car.” I’ve had plenty of “duh” moments this year when I get hung up because I don’t know the word for a concept like “progress” only to be told it’s Fortschritt, meaning literally a “step forth.” But conversely, I feel rather proud when I see a word for the first time like gleichzeitig (literally “same-time-ly”) and correctly guess that it’s the German word for “simultaneous.” Or unumgänglich ("un-go-about-able”), or as we would say, "essential." So really, this linguistic directness is surprisingly quite helpful to the German learner. You also get a sense of that directness from the compound words posted earlier this week. Being the ultimate über-nerd, I have spent much of the year writing down funny examples of this linguistic directness. And now, dear friends, to show you how this plays out on a daily basis here in Deutschland, it’s time for a little game. I’ll give you the German word and its direct translation, and you come up with our convoluted, non-descriptive, English word. C’mon, it’ll be fun and worth a few laughs, I promise! I’ll post the answers in a couple days.

Example: Krankenwagen: sick wagen = ambulance

Glühbirne: glowing pear =

Kühlschrank: cool cabinet =

Handschuhe: hand shoes =

Fahrstuhl: riding chair =

Fingerhut: finger hat =

Unkraut: not an herb =

Zahnfleisch: tooth flesh =

Blindarm: blind/dummy intestine =

Gehirnerschütterung: brain jolting/shaking =

Durchfall: fall through (ailment) =

Gelbsucht: yellow addiction (ailment) =

Nacktschnecke: naked snail =

Stinktier: stink animal =

Nashorn: nose horn =

Hundertfüßer: hundred footer =

Waschbär: wash bear =

Nilpferd/Flusspferd: Nile/River horse =

Vorfreude: pre-joy =

Muskelkater: muscle hangover =

Brustwarze: breast wart =

Staubsauger: dust sucker =

Ausweglosigkeit: state of having no way out =

Vorstandsvorsitzender: in a company, the one who stands in front of those who sit in front =

Viel Spaß!!! (Have fun!!!)

German and Me: Those Compound Words

2010-05-16T13:06:00.008+02:00

Perhaps the one thing that has occupied more of my mental capacity this year than anything else is dealing with the German language. Now that I’m nearing the end of my time here, I want to spend a few posts covering my linguistic odyssey this year.

The other day at work I joined some colleagues for a seminar for employees called Geschlechtersensible Gesundheitsberichterstattung. As I sat looking at this two-word line of text spanning the width of the introductory Powerpoint slide thinking to myself, “this might actually be interesting,” it suddenly dawned on me: Oh no! I’ve become like them! Ok, I’m a long way from being a real German, much less mastering this nutty language. But I do mean that those terribly long German words that intimidated me for so long have suddenly become routine. During conversations at work, I surprise myself less when a mouthful like Konfliktbewältigungsmaßnahmen (conflict resolution measures) escapes my lips. Like Mark Twain, I have kept a particular eye out for these fantastic words “marching majestically across the page” as though accompanied by banners and music, and also like him, whenever I come across a good one I stash it in my notebook for safekeeping like a museum collects artifacts. I’ve already shared a handful earlier this year, but today I thought I’d share some of the most prized gems from my collection for your linguistic entertainment:

Krebsfrüherkennungsuntersuchung: Cancerearlydiagnosisexam

Zusammengehörigkeitsgefühl: Togetherbelongingfeeling, i.e. feeling of solidarity

Fluglärmschutzbeauftragter: Airnoiseprotectionagent, i.e. the bureaucratic office for the protection against air noise in and around German airports

Hochgeschwendigkeitseisenbahnverkehr: highspeedrailwaytransportation, the preferred mode of travel in Germany

Rolltreppenbenutzungshinweise: escalatorusagetips

Leistungsfähigkeitsverstärkung: achievementcapacitystrengthening, or productivity improvement

Fahrtrichtungsanzeiger: drivingdirectionindicator, i.e. turn signal

Adventskranzkerzenanzünder: Adventwreathcandlelighter

Demokratieförderungsreferat: democracypromotionunit, the office I work currently in.

Rüstungsbegrenzungsübereinkunft: armamentlimationaccord

Eierschalensollbruchstellenverursacher: eggshellshouldbreakpointcauser, or the little hammer some people use to break open their hard-boiled eggs at just the right spot (most normal people just use a spoon)

Fußballweltmeisterschaftsendrundenteilnehmer: soccerworldchampionshipfinalroundparticipant, or World Cup finalist and something the Germans are hoping to achieve next month.

This not to say that I can masterfully comprehend every long compound word in this nutty language. As you can see, if you can successfully break up these jumbles into their composite words and stick an imaginary space in between them, the task isn’t so tough. But there are sometimes words like Erwerbsminderungsrentenzugänge sprinkled into a sentence. What should be like a game of connect-the-dots becomes a linguistic Rubik’s cube requiring about ten minutes of dictionary consultations and other algorithms to decipher. (If my decoding is correct, this word means “reduction in the earning capacity of pension in-flows”. Uggh.)

Sure, it slows down reading. Sure, it's frustrating at times. Nonetheless, like that Rubik’s cube, it’s the simultaneous challenge accompanying that frustration that makes me love these words and thus appreciate the strange beauty of a language that makes such words possible.

---

PS. Ever wonder what the longest German word is? Check these two out here and here!

When in Berlin (part 2)

2010-05-12T08:40:00.005+02:00

And here are the rest of my suggestions for when (not if) you come to Berlin...

If you’re going to be in Berlin in the warmer months then make time to head out to Britzer Garden. It’s a bit of a ride (an uncomplicated one) but worth the travel. The garden is beautiful, huge and a perfect way to spend a sunny afternoon. There are cafes, a train to ride, a model boat harbor, lovely ponds, and fields for frolicking. The best time to go is in either May or October when the garden puts on celebrations of dahlias and tulips. In October you'd see these lovely dahlias (+ 10,000 more):

and in May, it's the tulips:

As for museums: If you’re only going to make it to one, go to the Pergamon Museum. Get the free audio guide and plan on being there a couple of hours. Everything in the museum seems over-sized. You’ll spend a lot of time looking up and stepping back to take it all in.

If you have time in your schedule, go out to Dahlem and visit the Ethnography museum. This museum is quiet and cheap; the collection is total eye-candy and wildly fascinating. I can’t sing it’s praises enough. Hey, while you’re in Dahlem, walk down the main street to the Botanical Gardens. There are a dizzying number of plant species in the greenhouses and the grounds are lovely.

Eat Eis (gelato). Eat lots of it. Try several different Eis places to find your favorite. If you’re in the neighborhood of Nollendorfplatz, stop by Fredo’s Eis stand - it’ll blow your mind and the service will make you smile.

If you’re in Berlin on a Saturday or Wednesday go east to Hohenschönhausen. It’s a former Stasi prison that provides perhaps the most eye-opening look at what life was like in the DDR. Most tours are led by former prisoners and though it’s a sobering tour, it’s absolutely worth your time. (English tours are only offered on Saturdays and Wednesdays - check the website for times.)

Eat well. Berlin is a great place to eat out because there's a little bit of everything and it's relatively inexpensive. I don’t usually like to recommend food (because inevitably you might not like it) but there are two restaurants we keep going back to and we think they should be added to your list of eateries! For Prussian-style German food go to Der Alte Fritz. It’s authentic, conveniently located at Alexanderplatz, not outrageously priced and there is English on the menu. Portions are huge. You won’t be disappointed. For Turkish food go to Hasir. (There are several locations around the city - I would suggest the one in Schöneberg so that you can stop by Fredo's on the way home for dessert.) These are the folks that invented döner and they do an amazing döner plate. Order a carafe of red wine, get the fried fetta appetizer, and when they offer you tea after your meal, get it! Come hungry and you'll leave full.

When in Berlin (part 1)

2010-05-10T09:25:00.005+02:00

In just a few weeks John and I make our return journeys home and thus it feels that the time to be reflective is upon us. My way of managing a farewell to this city I love is to pretend that all of you (and yes, I mean ALL of you) are actively planning trips to my lovely Berlin and as such, are in desperate need of recommendations for when you arrive. Please, come to Berlin. Don't choose Munich, choose Berlin. And if you can - do both.

So here's what I think you should do while you're here:

Go up into the Reichstag. It’s free!!! It’s going to be insanely crowded in the morning and early afternoon, but you can almost be assured of interesting people-watching while you’re in line. To avoid lines it’s a good idea to go in the late afternoon, but the best bet is to go after the sun has gone down. The city is lovely all lit up and during the summer heat, you’ll avoid baking in the glass dome. Get the free audio guide!!!

From the Reichstag, make sure you go around the corner and see the Brandenburg Gate. It’s iconic. It’s picture-worthy and there are always street-performers in front.

Walk around and through the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe. Get lost among the stones. Visit the free museum that’s under the memorial.

If you’ve got some time on a Sunday head to Mauerpark. There you’ll find a rambling flea market crawling with locals and tourists alike. It’s busy, crowded and full of junk but I also think it offers one of the most honest pictures of Berlin. People of all ilk abound. Food and drinks are sold from little stands. Outside the market (if the weather is good) you’ll find families, couples, musicians, and groups of friends lounging on the grass. On one side of the park you’ll notice a mass of humanity gathered in the outdoor amphitheater. That’s Bear Pit Karaoke - an open air, open to the public songfest that happens every week. Grab a beer and join the crowds; it won’t be the best singing you’ve ever heard but it will be entertaining. (Ampelhead did a wonderful job covering this phenomenon a while back!)

Go to the East Side Gallery. This is so much more than graffiti. My suggestion would be to start on the Ostbahnhof side, walk the length of the wall and then turn right, cross the river by walking the beautiful Oberbaum bridge and follow the U-bahn tracks to the Schlesiches Tor stop. Wander this section of Kreuzberg - you’ll find delicious döner, coffee and eis and lots of interesting shops.

Go to one of the city parks - either the Tiergarten or Volkspark Friedrichshain. Excellent people watching. Excellent paths to wander. Excellent place to ride bikes. (Hey, take a Fat Tire Bike Tour.) Excellent spot to eat and drink. Just excellent.

Visit the Berliner Dom. Yes, it costs a few euros to get in, but you'll never see another Protestant church quite like it. Take the time to go down into the crypt. It's creepy, but interesting. If you can see a concert in the cathedral, that's probably the best way to fully take in the statues, the frescoes, the immensity, the organ, the beauty.

(more tomorrow)

Der Hund in Berlin

2010-05-04T21:00:00.000+02:00

It's not a secret: Berlin (as well as Germany) is suffering from a lack of children. It is NOT suffering from a shortage of dogs. Dogs are everywhere in Berlin. There are few places in this city that you can go without encountering them: they accompany their owners on the subways and buses, in restaurants and cafes, and in many stores. Consequently, Lauren and I have spent this year on constant "cute dog alert." Most dogs, it seems, also run around without leashes. That's not a problem because German dogs (or at least Berliner dogs) must be among the best-behaved four-legged friends in the world. I'm not sure if leash laws exist here or are simply disregarded, but dogs are so well-trained that leashes seem largely superfluous. Dogs walk around with their owners without a leash and show no attention to other people, dogs, or passing distractions. And believe me, we've tried to distract them or get them to even glance at us - totally without success. If the dog lags behind sniffing, it will at least keep an eye out for its owner, just in case he or she ventures off around the next corner. If the dog decides to run ahead, it has been trained to stop at the curb and wait for their owners before crossing the street.

If a sign on the door indicates that dogs cannot enter a certain establishment...

...the dog will wait patiently outside, usually off-leash, focusing intently on the shop entrance and intently scanning each exiting face in anticipation of its returning master. These pictures illustrate a scene all too common around town:

They wait patiently even in the presence of other dogs!

This reality prompts society to go to special lengths to accommodate man's best friend. For instance, outside of Karstadt, you can just stash 'em in one of these "Hundebox" pet lockers (you'll get the Euro coin back when you retrieve the little fella).

Other places will provide dog stations where they can be tied up in comfort, as found here outside IKEA (and you don't even have to put it together first with an Allen wrench):

All this leads me to occasionally wonder if Berliners care more for dogs than they do for children. But, my real question: how can I entice a Berliner to come back to the States to train my dog?!

May Day

2010-05-01T18:49:00.012+02:00

Today was May Day (aka International Workers' Day/Labor Day) around the world. While Bavarians might be busy erecting May Poles, many Berliners seem more ready to grab their placards and Molotov cocktails and hit the streets to partake in political celebrations, demonstrations, and even riots organized by unions, anarchists, and socialist groups. This being the first time I have experienced a truly celebrated May Day, I was thankful that EXBERLINER published a May Day for Dummies - and a Dummy on this subject I certainly am. From what I understand, things apparently get even more out of hand than a Franklin Street celebration after a UNC victory over Duke.

What made this May Day a bit more unique is the fact that Neo-Nazis planned a march in our neighborhood of Prenzlauer Berg (having lived here long enough now, the idea of Nazi extremist rallies is sadly no longer new to me over here). As pre-registration for public demonstrations is required by law, they registered themselves and their intended location with the police. Of course, the very idea of Nazis marching - even being given the right to march - evokes strong emotions in Germany (as you might well expect and even ponder yourself). But marching through a left-wing district of Berlin on such a socialist-inspired day evokes even stronger emotions. Thus, in the true spirit of May Day, Berlin's left-wing contingent planned an Anti-Fascist demonstration to stop the Nazis in their tracks. The Berlin air was palpably politically charged and the scene was set for violent pandemonium.

We were repeatedly warned (even got a note from the US Embassy) not to venture out into specific neighborhoods today for safety reasons, although I must admit a part of me really wanted to go out and watch the chaos erupt. But don't worry, Mom! Lauren and I went to the May Day market at Kollwitzplatz instead, where the only chaos we saw was caused by children on a moon-bounce and fresh asparagus being sold with wild abandon. Besides, one of Berlin's newspapers, Der Tagesspiegel, provided live blog coverage and pictures of the demonstration, so we didn't have to risk anything to get an insider peek.

The night is still young, and the worst may be yet to come. But rest assured, we are hunkered down for the evening. Happy May Day!

That's weird.

2010-04-27T13:50:00.006+02:00

Our recent adventures into non-German speaking lands produced a number of moments to which I could only respond " The (fill-in-the-blank people group) are weird!" I know there was a time when I thought Germans were a bit strange (wait, no I still think that every once in a while) but taking me out of Germany seemed to reinforce a creeping suspicion that on some things, the Germans aren't total weirdos and that maybe it's the rest of Europe that's a wee bit kooky.

zum Beispiel:

Obviously this McDonalds has had a problem with hooligans lollygagging about (sp?). But this sign elicited a number of questions as we sat sipping our shared Coke, killing time before a dinner reservation (which it should be noted is absolutely NOT lollygagging about). Question #1: Why is the sign in English? Do English-speaking teenagers regularly just sit in McDonalds while in Amsterdam? #2: When they say "no trading" what exactly do they mean? Because I have a lovely set of Lion King cards I've been looking to trade in...

Weird.

I bear no ill will towards fast food. In fact, I applaud its contributions to society. But this, this has gone too far. Poptarts and Bugles are allowed to come out vending machines. I'll even allow Jerky and coffee. But burgers, fries, and the Dutch equivalent of a Hot Pocket-too far!!! Not okay, Holland. Not okay.

Weird.

I'm a fan of the tiny vehicles one can find in Europe. Yes, there are SmartCars everywhere. Yes, there are three-wheeled cars. And I adore coming across Minis, especially the vintage ones. But this little Dutch bugger was a new discovery. It has four wheels. It was parked on the sidewalk for safe-keeping. It came up to John's chest and apparently needed to be chained to a pole. One word...

Weird.

At least some pictures

2010-04-19T19:09:00.006+02:00

Okay, so we haven't been writing but what we have been doing is taking pictures - lots of them and almost everything has been put up on Picasa. There are pictures from:

Amsterdam,

Brussels,

Bruges,

and Strasbourg.

If you've got a minute or need to waste a few, check 'em out! Clicking on the name of the city should take you to the album.

There will be more to come. Tomorrow we set out for Paris where we'll be until Sunday. Hopefully, the Icelandic volcano will stop spewing ash before then so our flight back to Berlin won't be cancelled; but then again, a few more days in Paris wouldn't be so bad...

Seminar Three

2010-04-08T22:55:00.002+02:00

If we seem a bit absent for the next three weeks it is not because we do not care about you, dear readers. We embark tomorrow on the third and final Seminar of John's Bosch year which means much travel, many adventures and spotty internet access.

We're heading out a bit early to visit Amsterdam on our own, then we join the other Boschies in Brussels, Strasbourg and Paris. We'll update and post pictures when we can!

Biermischgetränke

2010-04-04T21:48:00.015+02:00

When an American thinks of Germany, one of the first things that comes to mind is German beer. And rightfully so, with Deutschland usually ranking second in terms of national beer consumption and the average German consuming more than two liters a week. Of the some 2,800 breweries in Europe, roughly 45 percent of them are located in Germany, and Germany has more breweries than any other country besides the U.S. And indeed, Germany also has a proud brewing tradition. The famous Bavarian Reinheitsgebot, or "Purity Law," began regulating German brewing in 1516 and beer could only contain water, barley, and hops. This ensured that German beer would be brewed cleanly, consistently, and according to standards that would guarantee eternal greatness. But when this was applied nationwide following German unification in 1871, many beers with more creative ingredients became extinct and much of Germany's beer diversity disappeared. Though the law is no longer in force today, most breweries continue to abide by the law for the sake of historic authenticity (just look at the label on any German beer bottle). This helps explain why most German beer is of the lager variety (though wheat beers also are widely popular).

But this also might explain why even Germans seem to grow tired of the same old beer all time, and why they seem inspired to concoct new Biermischgetränke (beer mixed drinks) to liven things up. Without the variety found in U.S. microbrews or the flavors of Belgian or British ales, I can certainly understand this trend (though it hasn't affected my beer consumption...). Below I have detailed some of the more common Biermischgetränke found on most restaurant menus. These are surely NOT what an American thinks of when he thinks of German beer:

Radler: literally meaning "cyclist," the Radler is a mix of roughly 60 percent Pilsner and 40 percent German lemon-lime soda (try Sprite). It's very thirst-quenching and like the name implies, it's ideal for safely riding your bike away from the Biergarten after consuming a few. (By the way, if you're in northern Germany, this is called an Alster.)

Alster: Unless you're in northern Germany, this is usually considered a mix of Pilsner and German lemony-orange soda. Decent alternative to a Radler.

Diesel: A Pilsner beer or other lager mixed with cola. This one's a bit strange, but it's not half bad. It is so named because it is said to resemble diesel fuel, named after the German inventor Rudolf Diesel who invented the diesel engine in 1892.

Colaweizen: Like a Diesel, this is just a Hefeweizen (wheat beer) and cola mix. Just weird.

Russ or Russ'n: This beer drink is like a Radler but with a Hefeweizen (i.e. add lemon-lime soda/lemonade). I prefer a Radler honestly.

Kirschweizen: This is a Hefeweizen with a shot or two of cherry juice added. None of that cherry cocktail stuff from home, just use straight up cherry or sour cherry juice. Resembles a Belgian Kriek beer. Perhaps not the most manly beer to drink with the guys at poker night, but it's delicious.

Bananenweizen: You guessed it, Hefeweizen with a couple shots of banana juice. I honestly didn't know bananas produced enough pure juice to sell commercially, but German grocery stores stock it as such. It definitely complements the subtle banana notes of the Hefeweizen. I was hesitant at first, but I'm now a believer.

Grapefruitweizen: Obviously, Hefeweizen with grapefruit juice. This is just straight up tasty and refreshing.

These all might strike the American palate as especially strange, but I encourage you to be adventurous and give them a try sometime. I think you'll be as surprised as I was. Prost!

Frohe Ostern!!

2010-04-03T17:20:00.007+02:00

We wanted to wish you all a happy Easter and share another nugget of knowledge - this one about German's connection to this holiday! Hope you are enjoying a restful, healthy and joyous weekend!

(Also, we went to an exhibit on Easter eggs today, so the pictures are from that.)

"In the 17th century it became more and more fashionable to give Easter eggs as a present. It was mainly left up to the imagination of parents to explain to their children who had brought these unusual, gaily-colored eggs.

In central Europe the answer varied regionally. Around this time the following animals were claimed to have delivered the eggs:

the rooster: western Bohemia, upper Bavaria

the 'heavenly hen' or 'Easter bird': Austria, southern Germany

the cuckoo: Switzerland, eastern Europe

the fox: north-western Germany

a 'Palm-donkey': southern Germany

The figure of bunny-rabbit bringing the eggs was at first known in areas along the Rhine and towards the French border. The earliest mention of 'bunny-eggs' may be found in the writings of a Heidelberg medical professor, Georg Frank.

In 1682 he wrote about Easter eggs in 'De ovis paschalibus'. In the first third of the 19th century the Easter bunny was totally unknown in the south-east and many other parts of Germany.

But why was the bunny rabbit chosen for the leading role?

In olden days, bunny rabbits were associated with fertility, procreation and an eagerness for life. So they were ideal candidates to bring the new and still unusual eggs.

Finally, under the influence of illustrated Easter stories and the chocolate industry the role of the Easter bunny as the main deliverer of Easter eggs was firmly established."

-R. Vossen, A. Kelm, and K. Dietze. Ostereier-Osterbräuche. Hamburg, 1995.

The following are just eggs we thought were interesting:

Probably not a real dinosaur egg.

Eggs decorated with string. Amazing!!!

M.C. Escher eggs

Passing Notes

2010-04-01T10:42:00.002+02:00

To the highly esteemed German language,

I’m writing this letter to let you know I’ve chosen to stop learning you. No, don’t be mad. This is for the best for everybody. I’m leaving Germany in just two months (holy cow, TWO MONTHS?!?!), several weeks of which I’ll spend in lands where you are not primarily spoken. We had a good run - I learned a lot from you and for you I provided a seemingly endless array of mistakes to chortle about, some of them twice in the same sentence, even after I’d been corrected once. But all good things have to come to an end, and so a few partings words and then it’s Tschüssie for us!

First, I need to thank you. You’re my first real attempt at a spoken second language. Middle school Spanish doesn’t count, mi amigo and Latin, of course, had long gone silent before I attempted it. Trying to speak you befuddled my brain to an extent I didn’t know was possible but it also slowed me down and caused me to think about what I say, made me listen harder to the people around me, and forced me to be braver than I usually am. You introduced me to Sophia, my long-suffering and ever-patient tutor, who taught me as much about German culture and her life as she did about adjective endings (about which it is probably best we don’t speak, German). And finally, you have taught me more about my own language than college level grammar courses and three years of teaching grammar combined could ever have done. In my attempts to berate your grammatical choices I had to justify my own which ultimately makes me a better informed speaker of English.

This hasn’t been easy, my friend. I gotta say it’s an uphill battle, dude, a monumental task of epic proportions to try and learn you after I had decided I wasn’t adding any more languages to my repertoire. You asked me to turn my brain inside out, rethink how I communicate about the world around me, evaluate the significance of grammar rules in terms of cultural norms - that’s A LOT to do, especially when all I need is a Coke and a croissant. So knowing that the cards are stacked against the learner, you could make it easier. This guy gave me seven reasons not to learn you at all.

But I gave it the old college try. I learned to order food effectively. I learned to talk to the folks behind the cash register and in the market stall. I described my Christmas and wedding traditions. I understood announcements on all public transportation and information on signs. I knew enough to tell the survey people who hunt you down in Berlin to say I didn’t know enough to do their survey. I now immediately respond na klar instead of “of course” and natürlich instead of “naturally.” I learned something! I learned lots of somethings!

Vielen, vielen Dank, Deutsch. Es hat mir gefallen, dich kennenzulernen.

Liebe Gruße,

Deine

Lauren

P.S. I just thought you might want to know what other people are saying about you. There’s been talk, a lot of talk. Mark Twain had a lot to say. It’s all here, but you should really get back to him cause he’s been saying stuff like:

“Personal pronouns and adjectives are a fruitful nuisance in this language, and should have been left out. For instance, the same sound, sie, means you, and it means she, and it means her, and it means it, and it means they, and it means them. Think of the ragged poverty of a language which has to make one word do the work of six -- and a poor little weak thing of only three letters at that. But mainly, think of the exasperation of never knowing which of these meanings the speaker is trying to convey. This explains why, whenever a person says sie to me, I generally try to kill him, if a stranger.”

3 Simple Rules for Being Sick in Germany

2010-03-24T21:14:00.012+01:00

I was out at a museum a couple weekends ago when Lauren called me to report that she thought she was catching a cold and wanted me to stop at the Apotheke on the way home to pick up some drugs. Uh-oh, I thought to myself. Though I was concerned about her cold, I was actually more concerned that my clock read 5:30pm. She had just violated German Sick Rule #1: Do not get sick outside of normal business hours or on Sundays.

You see, Germans are apparently born with a unique gene that the rest of us don't possess. They can actually schedule when they fall ill (not coincidentally, as they seem to do with all other aspects of life). I've thought long and hard about this one, and this is the only rational explanation I can come up with. Notwithstanding a few exceptions, how else can a society simply accept that the majority of their drug stores - the sole gatekeepers of all medicine and related needs in this country - are open from 9-7 on weekdays, 9-3 (or if you're lucky 4pm) on Saturdays, and completely closed on Sundays? Because Lauren made the mistake of contracting a cold late Saturday afternoon, she would have to survive until Monday morning (luckily we had brought some Nyquil from home).

In the German workplace, there seems to be an additional and closely related stipulation. German Sick Rule #2: you apparently must schedule when you will be well again. I've experienced this now on countless occasions. A coworker calls in sick on Monday morning and in the same breath reports that she will be out until Thursday. Another coworker reports being ill on Wednesday and won't be back in the office until next Tuesday afternoon. I've heard it explained that this precise scheduling is based on one's doctor simply predicting when you will be capable of working again. To me, this level of precision is unfathomable.

Lastly, unofficial German Sick Rule #3 is perhaps the most culturally baffling for Americans: if you're sick, the work can always wait until you aren't. Though the term "sick day" appears in the German lexicon, there doesn't seem to be a limit on how many paid days of leave one receives. I've asked about this and the question always receives confused looks. But this also clarifies why I hear of coworkers staying home a couple times during the winter because they are leicht erkältet (have a light cold), or hear people tell me to go home when I start sneezing too much. Conversely, because almost half of Americans don't receive paid sick leave and those that do receive about five days a year, we simply cannot afford to stay home because of illness. How many working Americans do you know that stay home from work for a case of the sniffles? Unless I contract the plague, I'll be at work.

There's an old adage in Germany that I've heard on a number of occasions that summarizes and rationalizes these three rules beautifully: Die Erkältung kommt drei Tage, bleibt drei Tage und geht drei Tage. In other words, a cold comes for three days, stays for three days, and goes for three days. Hence, as long as you plan to get sick in Germany during a weekday, you can access the medicine you need, call in sick and schedule your return to the office nine days later, and not worry a minute that a light cold will cost you any money or productivity.

Let's see what's on

2010-03-18T17:01:00.005+01:00

There isn’t much to be impressed by when it comes to German television programming... and it’s not that I didn’t try. Remember, I’m a self-described TV watcher and yet I have found little to keep my attention. I don’t think it’s the language barrier because at this point that’s no longer really getting in the way. It's just that I’m not that into variety shows, people sitting around discussing political issues, soap operas or their version of reality TV. There is no shortage of American sitcoms that have been dubbed into German that might have filled my viewing needs but German society must only be entertained by the most ridiculous shows our homeland has produced. “The Nanny” is regularly on. So is “Two and a Half Men.” I caught “Alf” the other night (and I must confess, I did stop to watch.)

The one thing German TV does really well (probably better than the US) is animal programming. Yes, I know we have the National Geographic Channel (and I watched that at home a lot) but this is animal programming on just your average network and it’s on all the time. These staid and buttoned-up Germans have a real soft spot for all things furry!

If you’re into soft, cuddly and cute - turn on the TV every Saturday morning for my favorite program, “Wildes Kinder Zimmer,” a one hour show that simply highlights baby animals all over Germany. It’s a treasure trove of puppies, kittens, baby porcupines, baby llamas, lambs, calves, piglets, etc. We can’t help ourselves, we tune in whenever we can.

Germany also uses TV to highlight the animals in its many zoos. The shows document new additions to the zoos, daily life in the zoo, how animals are fed and cleaned, the captivating conundrums the keepers face. I’ve watched countless hours of elephant and penguin coverage...and it never gets old. If you’d like to see the most recent babies born in Berlin’s zoo check out the gallery of pictures here. John got home from work and informed me that in fact two of Berlin's newspapers have slideshows of baby animals, so if you still need more go here.

What’s fabulous is that after watching the show, I want to go to the zoo and it’s fun to find the animals you saw on TV once you get there. (Why aren’t American zoos in on this marketing tool?) Our trip to the zoo here in Berlin was partly inspired by one of these shows. Well, that and a documentary about the life of Knut, Berlin’s most famous polar bear. This bear remains a total rockstar here and the story of Knut and his trainer has inspired a number of TV programs like the one we saw, hundreds of newspaper articles (zum Beispiel: here and here and here) and a whole line of Knut gear and things.

The Knut show was just one of the countless documentaries they show on animals. Polar bears in the wild are a popular choice. The plight of seals is common. Some of our favorites are the ones on meerkats, whose German name, Erdmännchen, means “Little Earth Men” and are always accompanied by lively music and dramatic life circumstances.

John’s a sucker for any and all baby animals. The big guy goes all soft and sweet whenever he sees one. I’m in danger of reverting back to my days of collecting animal figurines and hanging posters of chimps in my room. It’s quality TV. It doesn’t require fluent German. It elicits a lot of smiles. That’s my kind of television.

Werbung!

2010-03-16T17:43:00.002+01:00

Perhaps one of the strangest features of German television is the fact that before nearly all commercial breaks you are warned that you are about to watch a commercial. The word Werbung (meaning advertisement/commercial/promotion) pops up on the screen, letting you know that what you’re about to see is no longer programming but actually some potentially misleading, fact-bending, exaggerating bit of persuasion...I still haven’t decided what I think this reveals about Germans and their thought processes as they watch TV. It’s hard to believe that anyone would be confused about the difference between Germany’s Next Top Model (a favorite in our house) and the Krombacher beer commercial that interrupts it. Heidi Klum may appear in McDonald’s commercials over here (as if she actually eats there - HA!) but she’s not yet appeared in any beer Werbung I’ve seen.

Speaking of beer commercials: John noted the other night that Germans have a very different approach to advertising beer. Beer commercials are serious. Seriously. We’re talking sweeping shots of beautiful landscapes, orchestral music and smiling people dramatically clinking together perfectly poured Hefeweizens. Beer ads here are about heritage and tradition. There’s zero talk of how many calories there are in your brew or the latest fad in the industry, absolutely no talking animals, nary a joke. Folks, beer is serious stuff in German; serious beer = serious ads.

So you may not get any good Budweiser ads to solicit a chortle over here, but what you will get is text messaging ads. At first you’ll think they’re funny because the services being offered are ridiculous and no one would actually buy this stuff, right? Then you’ll have to endure these ad seven times in a row at least three times an hour and every time you will be instructed to dial the number 3 five times and suddenly the phrase “fünf mal die Drei” (5 times the three) will be stuck in your head, haunt your dreams, be sung repeatedly by your husband...

And what is it that these Werbungen are promoting? It turns out the following information can only be known if you text the number 3 fives times to various and sundry entirely reliable services:

-Whether or not you and your boo are indeed soul mates

-Whether or not in a different world you were a vampire, werewolf or man As if I needed someone to tell me this one. Obviously I'd have been a vampire. I chose Edward a long time ago. (I apologize to my readers who are not fans of the Twilight series and thus cannot glean meaning from my last 3 sentences)

It should also be noted that by texting the number 3 five times you can:

-Have x-ray vision

-Spy into people’s homes via satellites

-Be the proud owner of a dancing gopher graphic

Finally, by texting the number 3 five times you can download the latest hit single onto your phone. Please note, the list of latest hit singles ALWAYS includes Lady Gaga. Always.

Controlling my World

2010-03-13T14:11:00.003+01:00

If you knew me well (or maybe even a little bit) back in the States you knew that I loved to watch TV. There’s a good chance that I watched too much. One might say I was willing to watch whatever was on, with a special penchant for decorating shows and documentaries on prisons (but that’s for another day). Moving to Germany has broken my TV addiction cold turkey, a lifestyle change made easier because German TVs and programming are a hot mess.

Today I need to address German remote controls:

In our old apartment the remote had two rather unfortunate features - one, that all the numbers and symbols had been rubbed off long before our arrival and two, it lacked channel up and down buttons. The lack of guiding signage created far too many unintended mutings, random displays that were impossible to erase except with complicated button sequences, and general frustration. The lack of channel buttons was “solved” by instead having the SCAN button that flipped through the channels in rapid succession, a process that could only be stopped if you timed your re-pressing of scan with hair-trigger precision. Oh the fun that provided!

Our new remote is far superior to the old one in that all buttons are clearly labelled AND we have channel up and down. (It’s the little things in life, really.) Of course, this “better” remote with its channel buttons does enjoy the entirely illogical feature of using the channel DOWN button to turn on the TV. This appears to be common across Germany is evidence that the rumors of German ingenuity are perhaps inflated. Oh, the remote also has a Power button, but that’s only used to turn it off. Obviously.

This weird feature of German remotes caused a great deal of consternation as we travelled on the first Seminar and repeatedly found ourselves pointing at the TV in a frenzy of button-mashing, sputtering incoherent exclamations of rage. We just needed the weather report!!!! (Eventually you remember to push channel down; but it’s remarkable to me how long muscle memory reigns in every day tasks like remote usage. All my life I’ve pushed Power, why stop now?)

The new remote also came with a “Magic” button. What magic does the remote conjure? Not sure quite yet. Maybe I should point it at John instead...

The Not-So-German Chocolate Cake

2010-03-09T19:26:00.004+01:00

German cakes are different than American cakes. Kuchen here is still tasty, but certainly less rich, less sweet, less gooey, and generally incorporates more fruits, berries, and nuts. It's readily available, so we eat it quite often. But one several occasions Lauren and I have remarked to each other, "where's the German Chocolate Cake?" Yes, to our surprise, we haven't found it anywhere. What's the deal? Thanks to some internet researching, here's what we found:

"German chocolate cake does not come from Germany or from German immigrants. German chocolate is a milder, sweeter baking chocolate (milk chocolate would not be invented until 1876, by Daniel Peter in Vevey, Switzerland). According to Kraft Foods, which now owns Walter Baker & Company, German chocolate cake was created in 1852 by Sam German, an Englishman who worked in the U.S. for Walter Baker & Company. Originally called Baker’s German’s Sweet Chocolate, the apostrophe-s was later dropped, adding to the confusion. The popular recipe for German Chocolate Cake was submitted to a Dallas newspaper almost 100 years later, in 1957, by a Texas housewife who may or may not have invented it. In light of the resulting demand for German chocolate, General Foods (since merged with Kraft) sent the recipe to newspapers nationwide, and the cake became a national hit." (from The Nibble. Story corroborated by Kraft Foods here and the LA Times here).

So there you have it. Not German at all. Not even German-American. But, no less delicious either. In case this tempts your tastebuds enough that you want to whip one up right now, you can find the original recipe here, using the very Baker's German's Sweet Chocolate whose very misnaming has probably led generations of Americans like me to search for the original cake in its original land only to walk away empty-handed and none-the-wiser. Oh well, at least now we know.

If this is Sewtown, then I'm the Mayor!

2010-03-03T21:21:00.011+01:00

A wise man once said “Sewing is premium.” (Actually, that’s a lie. No one has ever said anything profound about sewing from which I could pull a timely and pertinent quote. But I’m not gonna lie, sewing is pretty premium.)

Anyway, here’s an update on my premium sewing efforts!

The last few weeks I’ve been using embroidery to justify hours of movie and TV watching. In my defense, all the movies have been auf Deutsch and the Olympics were on; I had no choice but to watch!! The nice thing about embroidery is that at the end of the movie (or three) I have something to show for the hours that have passed.

Here’s one of the pillows (not yet stuffed) I made for John. The front is an embellished grocery bag; the back is blue velvet and it’s piped in red.

Here’s a grey pillow I bought and then added to with felt. Let's not talk about how I intended to make two of these...

Back in the fall (see my previous blog, "Here Comes the Sun") I mentioned that I had a sewing project that went bad. Well, I didn’t give up on that image and here’s the finished product. The goal is to back this with something lush and wonderful and have another pillow for our future home!

Recently, I decided to stop making pillows (to be honest, that got a little out of hand) and instead switched to making what will eventually be wall-hangings.

Here’s future wall-hanging #1:

Here’s #2 (not yet filled in with color):

And in my sewing class I’ve been busy as well. The most premium thing I’ve finished recently is this clutch. Pretty cool, huh?

As you can see here, I even added magnetic snaps and lined it with raw silk. Getting fancy, y'all!

Finally - living in a grossly cold city has afforded me more gloves than a woman really needs and thus, I chose to use a pattern I found online (because this is where I find everything) to transform simple black gloves into this:

We miss our puppy, Lucy, tremendously and I felt we needed our own version of her here in Berlin. This'll have to suffice until we can be reunited with our sweet girl!

Olympische Winterspiele

2010-02-27T23:16:00.006+01:00

You can learn a lot about a society by watching its television. While we can, and probably will, say more on that topic at some later date (because there’s just so much good material), I’ve made a couple of observations about Germany over the last two weeks from simply watching the Olympic Games. They seem to have at least one broadcast channel devoted to Olympic coverage at all times, thus people seem perpetually tuned in. And rightfully so. Germany has won the highest number of gold medals and led in overall medals for three consecutive Games, an accomplishment they are quite proud of and a streak they are not too happy about breaking this time around.

Yes, the Games are a big deal here - or at least, certain key events are. In the States, we typically see a lot of figure skating, a lot of hockey, some downhill, some bobsled, some speed skating. The American spectator wants entertainment and loves the action and excitement. In Germany, Olympic coverage seems exclusively focused on cross-country skiing, biathlon, and ski jump (with some downhill, bobsled, and speed skating mixed in when a German is competing). In fact, we’ve been regularly watching prime time coverage of the ski jump, cross-country, and biathlon on their sports channel since December. I have even had German colleagues discuss with me at length the demands of the biathlon and mentions names of biathlon athletes as though we were discussing LeBron James and the NBA playoffs. While I have the highest respect for the athleticism of these events, they aren’t exactly full of action and excitement. I’m probably just too American to find them anything other than painstakingly boring.

The announcing of the Games is also quite different from what we are accustomed to. In the US, each American athlete is introduced with a dramatic triumph-over-adversity backstory replete with baby pictures and interviews with childhood friends. In Germany, forget about the backstories: too dramatic, too superfluous, and above all too personal for the general German populace unconcerned about such details. This is Sport, not Soap Opera. During events, American announcers are pretty neutral in their narration of events, even though we all know Bob Costas is secretly rooting for the Americans during every event. Conversely, German announcers are extremely partial in their coverage. They are more like official cheerleaders than announcers: we’ve heard everything from “Faster! Faster! Faster!” to “That’s no way to win medals for your nation!” directed at the German athletes.

Finally, there's the patriotism and pride. We Americans love waving our flags, painting our chests with the red, white, and blue, and claiming to be the world's Number 1. In Germany, for historical reasons, such behavior is unheard of and makes fellow Germans rather uncomfortable. The Olympics, however, seem to provide an exception to that. You can look into the crowd and see plenty of German fans waving flags and almost competing with the Americans for loudest and proudest. You might even catch a glimpse of someone singing the national anthem during the medal ceremony. It's kinda nice to see this otherwise reserved culture, which is still in the process of political, social, and psychological reunification, taking the opportunities to show a little pride in a national effort. Especially when you consider that they've only been competing as a single nation since 1992.

-------

By the way, as I sit writing this, I'm watching the US vs. Canada hockey final, being announced by a pair of Germans with the addition of a color commentator who speaks excellent, fluent German, but with the thickest American accent I have ever heard! The German announcers must smile in amusement every time he opens his mouth, because I can't help but chuckle. I can't help but wonder though if I sound like that (albeit not fluent), and if the Germans in fact are hiding their amusement every time German comes out of my mouth. :)

And Now for Something Completely Different

2010-02-23T22:57:00.011+01:00

Our trip to Bamberg and Weimar was wonderful, as Lauren vividly described. But as our travels in Germany have shown us, not even the shortest weekend trip is complete without a few strange moments.

Dialect: Our voyage south to Bamberg took us across a number of prominent German dialect boundaries, including the linguistic Mason-Dixon line where southern Germans and Austrians routinely express their hellos by saying “Gruß Gott!” (Greet God!) instead of the more neutral “Guten Tag!” (good day!) common up north. (Funny anecdote: apparently northern Germans often mock this greeting by replying "When I see him" or "Hopefully not too soon!"). Anyway, since Lauren and I have cut our German teeth up here in Berlin, this simple change in greeting was immediately disarming. I can’t tell you how many times I fell speechless when nice Bambergers greeted me. I couldn’t even remember how to utter a simple “Hallo” in response. Bamberg is also in Franken, where they speak Frankisch. This dialect strikes my ear as a little odd. Lauren, on the other hand, concluded that Frankisch happens to be one dialect that she understands perfectly. Weird.

Beer: Bamberg is famous for its beer, particularly a strange brew called Rauchbier (smoked beer, made from malted barley dried over a flame). Imagine your favorite dark beer, light beer, or wheat beer infused with the distinctive smoke flavor of meat from the BBQ pit. It’s actually better than it sounds. Well, we went to the famous brewhouse where they brew up the famous Aecht Schlenkerla Rauchbier, and upon arrival the waitress asked if we wanted it. “Just a moment, please,” I kindly responded in German. We had just taken off our coats when she returned with two large krugs of beer. “Ready, yet?” she asked. Knowing that Lauren would never be able to choke this stuff down, I politely asked, “Do you have a pilsner for her?” “Nein,” came the reply, “this is all we’re serving.” She then plunked down the beers and walked away. Well, I guess we’ll be drinking Rauchbier tonight. Apparently the concept of giving your patrons a choice isn’t so universal. So, when in Bamberg, drink Rauchbier. And only Rauchbier.

The Insect Store in Weimar: It was the only store open on a Sunday, which should have been our first clue that something was amiss (because no stores are open in Germany on a Sunday). But the store was literally filled wall-to-wall with beautiful rocks, crystals, and the most amazing collection of exotic dead insects you have ever seen. We couldn’t resist. We were looking around when the kooky storeowner approached us with a cookbook. “They really are a fantastic source of protein,” she began. We looked with her in the book and holy geez we suddenly realized that all of these recipes featured... insects. Curried beetles. Salads with breaded crickets as croutons. Mealworm spaghetti. Cockroach casseroles. Grasshopper Goulash. The pictures just kept coming. Now one problem with speaking in a foreign language is that you can never really detect whether someone is joking or not. Humor doesn’t translate and whether or not she was serious about her bug recipes was entirely lost on us. Then she says, “Come here, let me show you something. Do you like Kakerlaken?” We cautiously followed the creepy woman to the cash register and I slowly recalled - with about 75 percent certainty - that in fact I did know what a Kakerlak was. Oh God.

She then picked up a large coconut, removed the lid, and pulled out the largest cockroach I’ve ever seen. Largest and totally live, creeping, crawling cockroach. I recoiled in disgust and Lauren shrieked at the “big ass jungle beetle” (her words) as she high-stepped it/sprinted/fell over herself to get to the other side of the store. As quickly as possible we extracted ourselves from the psycho woman and her little shop of horrors and decided it was time to head home to Berlin.

You can't make this stuff up.

Escaping the Schnauze

2010-02-22T11:18:00.009+01:00

Rumor has it that the farther south you go in Germany, specifically the more distance you put between yourself and Berlin, the friendlier Germans become. We’ve been fortunate in that we rarely encounter the Berliner Schnauze (their infamous grumpiness, rudeness, and frankness) and thus far have almost nothing but warm, fuzzy feelings for our fellow man in the city. Of course, our experience a few weeks ago with the extraordinarily rude waiter dressed like a cheap Boy George is an exception to our goodwill; but I like to chalk up his snarl to regret about his wardrobe choices and not any ill-feelings he may have held towards us.

At any rate, we thought we’d test out this rumor about German friendliness, escape the slippery sidewalks of Berlin and take a weekend trip to two small towns, Bamberg and Weimar. And indeed we found the locals to be cheery, helpful, accommodating and all around friendlier. I’ve posted photos from the trip which probably give a better picture of what we did, but we also wanted to tell you about the many unexpected moments of German hospitality that we enjoyed!

Bamberg, Germany

We knew the trip was off to a good start from the moment we arrived at our pension in Bamberg. John was chatting away with the receptionist and asked for a city map. When she asked whether we wanted the English or German, we laughed sheepishly and said “perhaps, the English.” “No, no,” she said “your German is fantastic! Take the German map, it’s better!” John walked away beaming and commented to me, “I don’t think we’re in Berlin anymore!”

Our next stop was the Bamberg tourist office. John had some questions about a beer tour they offer and I was wandering around with my camera around my neck when suddenly the woman behind the counter looks at me and asks, “You enjoy taking pictures?” A little stunned, I replied that “Well, yes I do”. She then proceeded to explain that the best views of the city were from the tower next door and that she’d be glad to give me the key. I’m repeatedly saying “thank you” when she whips out the biggest key attached to the biggest clothespin I have ever seen. She tells us "to head on over, let ourselves in, feel free to open any windows, just lock up on your way out!"..and so we did...and the views were indeed amazing!

Saturday morning we wandered Bamberg a bit and happened upon an adorable shop full of local wines and regional beers. We were peering in the windows, commenting on the wines when the owner came marching down the street, greeted us with a smile and invited us to come in even though the store wasn’t to open for almost an hour. He patiently explained the differences between the wines, didn’t seem at all disappointed when we didn't choose the most expensive wines and even threw in some free gummy bears and a gift bag “to remember Bamberg.”

Weimar, Germany

When we arrived in the Weimar train station we needed to stop at the city map to confirm the location of our hotel. While we were waiting in line an elderly woman moves over and asks “Do you need any help?” We explained where we were headed - a conversation which required some pronouncing and re-pronouncing of street names - she thought a minute and then proceeded to give us near-perfect directions to our hotel, instructed us not to waste our money on the bus and she did it all with a smile and a "good luck on our trip"!

Finally, in our ever present hunt for postcards (and because we’re both suckers for antiques) we wandered into an antique dealer’s shop in Weimar. As we’re perusing the books John found a beautiful hardback collection of Schiller’s writings, but it wasn’t marked with a price. When he asked the owner, the man cheerfully explained the history of that edition, the cover artwork, what made the book special, even the problems with the book. When he realized that John and I weren’t native speakers he offered to do the whole thing again in English (of course not necessary) and then insisted that I go into his postcard section and choose 10 to take “as a gift” from him. We bought the books, gathered the postcards and were saying our goodbyes when he stopped us to ask if we had a city map. We did have one and we showed it to him but he shook his head, pulled one from his racks and thrust it into John’s hands. “It’s prettier!” he said. “You take it...as a gift.”

Now maybe none of this seems remarkable to you, but these kinds of interactions NEVER happen in Berlin. It’s not that Berliners are necessarily rude, they just aren’t friendly. This weekend no one seemed put out by my German, people offered to help, people smiled; it’s amazing how these little moments with cheery Germans help remind me what an unbelievable opportunity we've been given.

(I found this blog by another expat in Berlin that I think perfectly captures our malaise prior to this weekend’s adventure. This may explain why we needed this trip and she mentions the Berliner Schnauze too!)

"Untitled"

2010-02-18T11:43:00.008+01:00

In addition to the Karneval parade, John and I spent part of our Sunday at Berlin’s Musuem of Modern Art. Formerly a train station, the space itself is massive and visually interesting. The art inside the space? Well...well, it’s there...

We went to see a highly-advertised show, Kunst ist Super (Art is Super) because it was billed as the highlights of the Museum’s collection, the best of the best, what more could we ask for?... We arrived to massive crowds, snaking lines and felt for sure that this meant we were about to be blown away by the art inside...

Art is super. That may very well be a true statement - even of modern art - but I’m not sure that what I saw was art. I saw a lot of stuff - a pot on the floor, a video of a man screaming for a minute, Ikea-esque pieces of furniture, a mirror “artfully” leaning against a wall - but I’m not sure I would qualify any of this as art.

There was this sculpture...

because all the world needs is one more tribute to MJ.

We also saw very large bugs.

The last time I saw these they were in my college apartment.

When we wandered into this room we were a little confused...

because this looks remarkably like a messier version of my dad's garage.

There was a wall painted blue. “Untitled” of course.

I’m sure we can all agree what the artist was trying to communicate.

As I was ranting about the relative value of modern art in my head and to John, I stumbled across this article which presents research showing that people are more likely to enjoy a piece of art if they are NOT given contextual information. I’m going to have to respectfully disagree on this one, guys. As I was staring at a plain wooden box in the museum, desperately trying to draw out some metaphysical, socio-political, or philosophical meaning, it might have been nice at least to have a title to inspire my thinking.

Needless to say, I’m 'bout done with modern art for a while. Sorry, art world.

Update from the last post: We tried to cook the "sausages" from the Karneval parade. Was that meat? Not sure. Was it edible? Absolutely not.

Karneval! Hei-Jo!

2010-02-16T09:29:00.011+01:00

In the more Catholic regions of the world, the Thursday before Ash Wednesday begins the week-long Karneval celebration. For Americans, think Mardi Gras. In Germany, this translates into massive celebrations in the southern and western parts of the country, the largest, wildest, and most famous occurring in Köln. The high point is Rose Monday (Rosenmontag), which is officially not a holiday but in practical terms is treated as such in many Karneval-crazy towns. Hundreds of thousands of costumed Germans take to the streets in freezing temperatures, watch the Karneval parade, sing a lot of songs, and naturally drink a lot of beer. Courtesy of Deutsche Welle, I’ve linked a video of Karneval in Köln as well as some traditional Karneval music being sung (in a Dialekt that still strikes me as foreign). Maybe open them in a new window and listen while you finish reading here. For some more details from the region, consult the Ampelhead, who now lives in Bonn and is in the forefront of the action.

For us, Karneval in Berlin was pretty tame in comparison. It’s just too traditionally Protestant and straight-laced Prussian around here. Nevertheless, we ventured out to participate with the other Jecken (German for "Carnival-goers") on Sunday to watch the procession and witness some truly bizarre scenes.

As you can see in our pictures on Picasa, adults take dressing up seriously. Shopping for the perfect costume begins months in advance, and all the department stores stock costumes in large areas reminiscent of the children’s Halloween section at the local Party City. It's just a little strange to see the usually serious Germans loosening up like this in public. I even heard that some Boschies in more Karneval-friendly towns were requested to come to work in costume.

The giving of treats to the crowds was also a central element of Berlin’s Karneval. But this wasn’t your typically gentle treat-or-treat style distribution of candy. While the children received candy tossed in their sacks, the costumed Jecken perched atop their floats often hurled candy and other goodies down at the adult crowds with the speed and force of a major league baseball pitcher. Rather than hold out our hands to catch candy, we were often shielding our exposed faces from these projectiles.

And not just candy was being thrown to the crowd: the most random treat of the day? That pair of sausages in the lower left. I was also handed a delicious Kölsch beer at one point.

As I mentioned, German Karneval-goers love their songs. They also love to shout and chant a special Carnival cry called a Narrenruf at each other. Apparently these cries vary from town to town and number well into the hundreds, but are rarely anything but nonsensical words in strange German dialects which make the entire production indiscernible to non-native speakers. At the time all we could do was marvel at the strange songs and yelling that would randomly erupt around us, as though everyone else had received the script in advance. However, eventually we started yelling “Hei-Jo!” upon command like everyone else. We only found out after the fact that that is Berlin’s Carnival cry.

Hei-Jo!

Someone once said...

2010-02-13T11:53:00.005+01:00

"Berlin ist arm, aber sexy."

"Berlin is poor, but sexy."

Klaus Wowereit, Mayor, in a press interview, 2003

"Berlin wird leben und die Mauer wird fallen."

"Berlin will live and the wall will fall."

Willy Brandt, Former Mayor of West Berlin and chancellor of Germany, 10 November 1989

“The greatest cultural extravaganza that one could imagine..”

David Bowie, singer, on 1970s Berlin

"Ich bin ein Berliner."

"I am a citizen of Berlin"

John F. Kennedy, President of the United States, 1963 while visiting Berlin

"“Berlin ist eine Stadt, verdammt dazu, ewig zu werden, niemals zu sein”

"Berlin is a city condemned always to become, never to be."

Karl Scheffler, author of Berlin: Ein Stadtschicksal, 1910

"Niemand hat die Absicht, eine Mauer zu errichten!"

"Nobody intends to put up a wall!"

Walter Ulbricht, Leader of East Germany, June 15th 1961 - 2 months before the Berlin Wall was built

"Paris bleibt Paris, sagt man, aber Berlin bleibt nie Berlin,”

"Paris will always remain Paris but Berlin will never remain Berlin!"

Jack Lang, French former culture minister, talking about how fast Berlin is changing, 2001

"Whoever controls Berlin controls Germany and whoever controls Germany controls Europe."

Lenin

“Die Mauer wird in 50 und auch in 100 Jahren noch bestehen bleiben, wenn die dazu vorhandenen Gründe noch nicht beseitigt sind.”

“The Wall will be standing in 50 and even in 100 years, if the reasons for it are not removed."

Berlin, January 19 1989

Erich Honecker, Head of the Communist Party who led East Germany from 1971-1989.

„Du bist verrückt mein Kind, du mußt nach Berlin.”

“You are crazy, my child; you must go to Berlin.”

Franz von Suppé (1819-95)

The White Stuff

2010-02-05T17:30:00.010+01:00

"Germany is in the midst of the longest snowy period since the winter of 1978/79. The snowy crust has remained on the ground without melting for some five weeks."

That was the news on Monday. Well, the snowy crust is still on the ground today and there are predictions for snow several days next week, so perhaps February is not quite the harbinger of better weather we had hoped for. The winter of our discontent continues.

However...

Germans know how to have a good time in the snow. If you're German and under the age of five, life comes equipped with a wooden sled and parents willing to drag you just about anywhere. Going to the grocery store? Grab the sled; you can ride shotgun with the bags. Two of your friends need a ride? They better be wearing adorable snowsuits, wee little boots and fuzzy hats with earflaps. Ah heck, everybody get on. (Not you, John!!!)

And then there was the Schneemann Summit. We're fairly certain it was associated with a boring conference on global warming; I'd prefer to think it's just high tourist season in Berlin for snowmen. John put on his toboggan (or do you call it a cap? maybe a Mütze?), grabbed his corn cob pipe and his button nose and joined the party for a few pictures.

Why Germans create marshmallow-shaped snowmen is lost on us. Poor fellow in the front. His little arms just weren't long enough so he kept waddling over to this guy...

...who was thrilled to finally see the Berliner Dom.

This wide-eyed guy was eager for a picture with the Fernsehturm. John was happy to oblige. They wanted to take the picture together but a general lack of thumbs in the crowd made that difficult.

Funny enough, this snow man had to hurry on his way, but he waved goodbye saying, "don't you cry, I'll be back again some day."

Camp Berlin

2010-02-03T17:27:00.004+01:00

When John and I first started telling people we would be participating in the Bosch year, one of the first questions I always received was, "What are you going to DO?" I would laugh and make/accept all sorts of suggestions, sure that I'd find ways to fill my time. If pressed, I might admit that I was a little concerned about how to occupy the long, cold, dark days of a German winter. But of course there would be something to do...right?

It turns out I might should have taken those concerns a bit more seriously because indeed the German winter is long, cold and dark. Berlin and I are already such good friends that I'm running out of new places to explore, especially ones that don't require a session of ice-dancing on the uncleared sidewalks. John's been giving me worried looks for the last 2 weeks as I have become increasingly restless and has been frantically trying to find me new activities. I have jokingly and lovingly referred to his efforts as "Camp Berlin." We gotta get my week's schedule filled up, folks!!

Here's a look at the many and varied activities on offer at Camp Berlin:

Tuesday and Thursday afternoons: German lessons with a delightful Berliner named Sophia

What am I up to? Oh, just mastering the art of German adjectives. It's very advanced. Prepare yourself. Last week I drew this picture:

And then used my adjective knowledge to write sentences like: "In front of the big mountain are two people. The man wears a hat. The hat is black. The black hat is tall." Like I said, it's advanced, or at least an advanced lesson in humility.

Wednesday afternoons: Sewing lessons with a delightful Hollander named Linda

You've seen some of my previous efforts. Most recently I've been working on a surprise gift for Ellis and Judson. (If you two have learned to read and are reading this now, stop immediately!!) I had such a good time making a potholder before Christmas I decided to tweak the pattern a bit and create hand-puppets for my favorite niece and nephew, who I've been told get a kick out of puppets. I'm pretty pleased with the results!

(Coming soon) Friday mornings: Beginners Painting/Art Appreciation

This is a new addition to my schedule. I may be creative and I may use Modge Podge effectively, but I've never been a painter. This is going to be an adventure, one that may or may not produce attractive art.

Of course there are also occasional museum visits and lots of pictures to take, sites left to see and books to read. I'm very open to new suggestions, so if you have time-filling opportunities let me know. I'm also on the hunt for a new sewing project. Anyone have any ideas?

Goodbye, Schöneberg!

2010-01-29T18:55:00.010+01:00

For me, the beginning of 2010 meant finding my second work placement, and for us, that meant finding a new place to live. Job prospects outside of Berlin never really panned out, so we are staying in Berlin and decided to try out another part of town for a change of scenery. So, what better change of scenery than to pack our bags and move from the former West to the former East? Now that that change is final, here is my tribute to the historic Schöneberg neighborhood that hosted us for six months. (Warning: heavy on history, but I invite you to put on your nerd pants and walk with me just a few minutes.)

Every day I walked past this huge, hideous square concrete block at the end of our block on the way to work. Not so schön (pretty, great, nice): it's really an eyesore in our 'hood. I recently learned that it was an air raid shelter used during the Allied air raids in World War II and a NATO distribution center for supplies during the early Allied occupation afterwards. Apparently it was so well constructed, their best efforts couldn’t destroy it in the post-war years and they just decided to build that huge apartment block on top of it.

Next door to our apartment, I trudged across the lot where the former Berliner Sportpalast stood. Though a popular place for sporting events and concerts from 1910 until the 1970s, I only recently discovered that this is where Joseph Goebbels gave his eery Total War speech (actual speech begins around 2:05) in 1943.

This is the Kammergericht, in front of which Lauren and I spent many afternoons during the warmer months jogging and keeping fit (ok, really just Lauren). Apparently, we weren’t just sweating it out in front of some pretty building. This was where the Nazis “tried” some of the collaborators of the July 20 plot (think Valkyrie and von Stauffenburg). Later it became the site of the Allied Control Council, where the four Allied powers met to make post-war decisions about Germany and the Berlin Airlift was coordinated. Funny enough, after the Soviets stopped showing up in 1948 (effectively beginning the Cold War here), it’s said that the British, French, and Americans continued to observe a ritual pause and to leave seat empty in expectation of their Soviet colleague who never showed again - until 1990. The Allied withdrawal from Germany in the 1990s was in part finalized here (thus also effectively ending the Cold War here).

Just a couple blocks south from where we live is Schöneberg’s Rathaus (city hall), where John F. Kennedy gave his famous “Ich bin ein Berliner” speech. Inspiring speech, even though lots of people are still debating whether or not he said “I am a jelly donut.” (My fellow Schönebergers don’t seem interested in the debate, just the pastries.)

Lastly, who knew that the Brothers Grimm were buried a couple blocks away? A particularly relevant discovery for Lauren, who's been working her way through their fairy tales (auf Deutsch!).

Despite the great mix of people, the cozy cafes, and diverse restaurant scene (overshadowed by other more sexy sections of the city), I guess what I most enjoyed about our Schöneberg ‘hood (and what can probably be said of any part of Berlin) were the hidden nuggets of history that surrounded our everyday life and even composed the very stones on which we walked but only gradually revealed themselves. Though Schöneberg doesn’t have a Brandenburger Tor or a Reichstag, the continuous discovery of its “behind-the-scenes” history has made routine life schön and vivid at times. And for a history nerd like me (and you fellow nerds who are still reading), it’s been a true thrill. So thank you, Schöneberg.

If we seem grumpy...

2010-01-27T16:59:00.003+01:00

...it could be because this is our weather forecast:

We aren't cold weather people. (One of the many things this year has taught us about ourselves.)

Grüne Woche

2010-01-24T21:55:00.010+01:00

I'm not gonna lie folks, it is hella cold over here in Berlin so any opportunity we have to be entertained indoors is a must-do for the Graebers! On Saturday we attended the 75th annual International Green Week, the "world's biggest fair for food, agriculture, and horticulture." We knew this event was legit when our German tutor mentioned she was planning on going, just as she goes every year with the whole family in tow. And indeed many a German attends the fair; in 2009 attendance was somewhere in the 400,000 range. Based on our rough estimates of how many people you can squeeze into tight spaces, I'd say their numbers will be as good this year.

This was probably as close to a state fair as we're going to get over here, and it did indeed include delicious foodstuffs but not of the deep-fried, powder-sugared sort. Nah, Grüne Woche is a place for cheese, salami, sausage, more cheese, wine, beer, a little cheese, and gelato. The halls are organized by country so we meandered our way through many of the world's cultures grabbing samples, listening to live performances, elbowing and being elbowed, generally taking in the experience.

In the Dutch section we saw a famous work of art (10 cool points to the person who can name it) recreated with tiny wooden shoes.

And of course there were tulips in the Dutch section. And of course I took pictures.

We saw some interesting livestock.

John stood next to a very large tractor. We thought Judson might like this one.

We were very impressed by the fancy bread display in the Ukrainian section.

And, John was speechless when we came across a room literally covered in beer bottles. Boy loves him so beer.

To see the website for Grüne Woche, click here. Don't worry, it's in English. :)

Seminar Swag

2010-01-23T11:00:00.005+01:00

Our winter seminar is finally over. Similar in style to our first one in September, this time we traveled between Dresden, Warsaw, and back to Berlin for two packed weeks of meetings with other interesting events tucked in along the way. Also like the first seminar, I brought back not only some valuable insights from our meetings. I also brought back a hefty bag o’ swag* to commemorate our travels.

This pile of stuff is just a glimpse of the memorable items I’ve received after two two seminars. From the first seminar there’s a nice CD with classical music and a picture book from Stuttgart and a pocket-size copy of the Grundgesetz (or the Basic Law, Germany’s constitution) from the supreme court in Karlsruhe. From this seminar, SolarWorld outside of Dresden gave us a ball cap, bumper sticker, and even a real solarcell. The green dragon keychain hails from the Saxon State Criminal Office, the Bundesrat (the upper house of parliament) provided us with Bundesrat-shaped cookies, and the CDU gave us a small organizer that they distributed to their volunteers during the election campaign. Our days at the Bundestag yielded a blue canvas shopping bag stuffed with commemorative gear, including several history books about the Bundestag. (I’m a nerd so I’ll probably read them.) You can also see our growing collection of buttons and pins, including Germany’s most famous mouse and the popular Green Party campaign button against nuclear energy.

Other final thoughts on the trip:

1) Dresden was surprisingly beautiful. Like much of the former East, it’s certainly in a rebuilding transition mode (with the help of taxes from the less thrilled western German states) but the progress is really remarkable. Like Rick Steves, I predict another few years and Dresden and the rest of Saxony will be a serious destination for American tourists who until now have overlooked it.

2) If you ever find yourself in Dresden sitting in a fairy tale castle vineyard being served a lavish feast by a German prince, just remember that it may not end happily ever after. It didn’t for the twelve or so fellows that got violently ill afterwards.

3) Warsaw was also a pleasant surprise, having rebuilt 90 percent of the city since it was destroyed in World War II. I would only suggest that you wait to visit in the summer and not the heart of winter. An Old Town walking tour in -15ºC (5ºF) was slightly too cold for my Texas-bred comfort.

---

* Is it “swag” or “schwag”? In case you’re curious, I looked it up and both are probably right since there doesn’t seem to be any clear etymology. As Michael Scott on The Office claims, swag is just a slang acronym for “Stuff We All Get.” It might also be related to a Scandinavian source suggesting “bulky bag” of perhaps treasures and loot or “to move heavily or unsteadily.” There’s also an Australian connection with the word relating to a “a traveler's bundle containing personal belongings, cooking utensils, food, etc.” In all senses of this word, it perfectly describes my experience collecting materials on these seminars.

Pictures from Seminar II

2010-01-19T09:46:00.001+01:00

In case you're interested, I posted pictures on Picasa from Seminar 2. Click here to see them.

Dear Anonymous,

2010-01-14T13:02:00.002+01:00

IT WORKED!!!!

I'm sitting here munching on freshly popped popcorn, straight from my stove. I wish you could have seen my look of pure glee when I pulled off the lid and saw a whole pot of beautiful fluffy popcorn. I literally did a jig in the kitchen (more on that later).

The popcorn victory is especially sweet considering I have been sent back from the second seminar trip early, leaving John to continue on to Poland for a few days without me. Something about the mere mention of Poland sends my body hurling itself towards wretched stomach viruses. I'm two for two on this and will no longer ignore fate's attempts to keep me out of what is probably a lovely country.

In addition to the popcorn miracle, two other incidents have worked wonders to improve my mood about being in Berlin without my dear husband.

1. I found my favorite childhood record (yes, I said record) on Itunes. I'm not sure if your Fisher Price record player had the privilege of playing Anne Murray's There's a Hippo in my Bathtub, but mine most certainly did, and no set of songs better captures my memories of growing up. Teddy Bear's Picnic, Animal Crackers, Inch Worm, the classics.

2. While heating up the oil for the popcorn I was entirely engrossed in Jay Z and Alicia Keys' Empire State of Mind. I'm not going to lie, I may have been getting my dance on, entirely oblivious to the fact that my neighbors can see absolutely everything I do in my kitchen. Imagine my surprise when I turn and find I'm being given a huge grin and applause by the couple across the way.

(About that popcorn jig...Oh, I still did it; I just checked the windows across the courtyard first!)

Deutschland or Germany?

2010-01-08T11:08:00.006+01:00

One of the gifts the Bosch year has afforded us is the time to have long conversations about random, mundane, and weird topics. We rarely come to grand conclusions and not yet have we solved any major or minor world problems, but talking to each other has always been one of our favorite pastimes.

One of our conversations over the summer centered around why Americans call this country "Germany." That's not what they're calling it over here. And for that matter, why do people groups rarely call nation states by the name the nation has chosen for itself? That's kind of odd and potentially confusing.

Well, I was thumbing through our copy of Rick Steves' Germany 2009 and came across a nice little nugget of knowledge (for that knapsack of facts you're carrying around).

Our English name "Germany" comes from the Latin Germania, the name of one of the "barbarian" tribes. The French and Spanish call it Allemagne and Alemania, respectively, after the Alemanni tribe. Italians call the country Germania, but in Italy the German language is known as tedesco, after another Germanic tribe. Completely confused by all this, the Slavic peoples of Eastern Europe simply throw up their hands and call Germany Německo (Czech), Niemcy (Polish), Németország (Hungarian), or other variations of a word that means "mute." To Germany, their country is Deutschland, a name used for at least 1,200 years. It probably derives from Deutsch- which is what eighth-century folks called the common language that developed in the eastern half of the Frankish empire.

This was an exercise in one of my school books in which I had to correctly identify the German names for European nations and capitols.

Silvester und Feuerwerk

2010-01-02T12:33:00.009+01:00

I guess every society needs an opportunity to cut loose every once in a while, and it seems that Berlin, if not all of Germany, does so on Silvester (New Year's). In terms of numbers, the gathering in front of the Brandenburg Gate rivals, if not surpasses, America's Times Square's celebration, and the drunken merriment is certainly comparable. We opted for a quieter evening, having been preemptively warned by several locals that Silvester in Berlin would be dangerous. We heeded the warning, albeit not really understanding what that meant: there aren't really guns here, and people don't drive enough to make drinking and driving a serious problem. We had heard that Feuerwerk (fireworks) can get out of hand, but in this densely packed city of 3.4 million people, what could that possibly mean outside of a few harmless sparklers?

Our first clue that something was amiss was that, starting a couple days before the special evening, fireworks were available everywhere. Imagine your local supermarket selling Saturn Rockets, huge Roman candles, and all manner of light-up-the-sky pyrotechnics to the general public. Then we began to hear the random sounds of black cats exploding periodically over the next few days, which we automatically equated with the more familiar sounds of gunfire. On our way to the movie theatre on New Year's Eve, some punk kids threw a firework down on us from their apartment perch overhead (Later that night, despite the snow we took the longer alternative route home). By the time we returned home, the steady thunder of Feuerwerk relentlessly echoed around us. The festivities soon began at the Brandenburg Gate, but you probably would have been hard-pressed to notice because of all the explosions reverberating down the snowy streets and lighting up the sky between buildings with reds and greens. We watched as kids and adults launched rockets high into the sky and jettisoned missile-like objects every which way, including a couple aimed I swear right at our balcony. The pandemonium lasted for hours. Man am I glad we weren't out in it!

The next day the streets and public spaces looked like a ticker-tape parade had come through town. What is so bizarre is that this occurs in the same orderly and mostly restrained culture where neighbors complain about the sounds of shoes in the apartments overhead; where I must be sensitive about depositing my glass bottles in recycling bins because of noise; where acts of public nonsense evoke scornful looks. Many neighborhoods even enjoy official Lärmschutz (noise protection). So for everyone to suddenly disregard these social norms is baffling. I can't say for certain that all German cities behave with such wild abandon on New Year's - in fact, I would be shocked if those in the south of Germany would be willing to deal with either the noise or clean-up involved afterwards. But here in Berlin, it must be a price worth paying for a night of fun. For us, it was at least entertaining.

If you have two and a half minutes, I filmed some of the amateur fireworks outside our balcony. A few things to note: the constant noise, the rockets sailing over the building next to us, and our surprised reactions. You're getting a few minutes; this chaos went on for a few hours.

Old and New

2010-01-01T12:13:00.008+01:00

So New Years is a time for reflecting on the past and thinking about the future, right? All the lists and countdowns popping up on the internet would suggest so. Sure, I could wax poetic about the wunderbar gifts 2009 gave me. A chance to try a new country, a new life, a new language. It's been a good year. As for the future? If only I could predict what 2010 will bring for us. A new city? A new life? Definitely not a new language; I long for days filled with English.

But no, that's not the purpose of this post. I've just been looking for an excuse to share my latest pictures with you. On Tuesday John and I braved the snow and wind to travel to the Ethnography Museum in Dahlem, just outside of Berlin. The collection is unbelievable. It's mind-blowing, take your breath away, amazing. We walked around with our mouths gaping open and cameras flashing. When I studied in London I spent hours in the British Museum, just staring at the collections. The Ethnography Museum is better. Hands down. (And if you've heard me go on and on about the BM, you know this is saying a lot.)

I wish I were a better photographer (especially through glass) so that I could show you the remarkable masks, statues, boats (yes WHOLE boats), and jewelry. If you're coming to Berlin, I'm going to use you as an excuse to go back. You won't mind, I promise. :)

And now from ancient world cultures to a modern, make-believe culture. John and I had a hot date for New Years.

Movie, drinks, a fantastic dinner and home before the Silvester revelry really got cranking (John will tell you more about that soon). Here we are waiting for the start of Avatar 3D. Maybe not as moving as the Palau artifacts at the museum, but still pretty cool.

12 Days of Christmas (part 3 of 3)

2009-12-29T10:10:00.006+01:00

On the fourth day of Christmas, Berlin gave to me:

Brandenburger Tor

On the third day of Christmas, Berlin gave to me:

This one may require some explanation. In Köllnischer Park Berlin keeps 3 (or so) live bears as the city mascots. Unfortunately from November on they are all in hibernation. Come spring, we'll head back to check them out.

On the second day of Christmas, Berlin gave to me:

East Side Gallery, Berlin Wall

On the first day of Christmas, Berlin gave to me:

Fernsehturm

Merry Christmas everyone!

12 Days of Christmas (part 2 of 3)

2009-12-27T15:47:00.004+01:00

On the eighth day of Christmas, Berlin gave to me:

Bode Museum

On the seventh day of Christmas, Berlin gave to me:

Loschmidt Oberschule in Charlottenburg

On the sixth day of Christmas, Berlin gave to me:

(It turns out there are 6 columns at the front of a lot of buildings in Berlin. We decided to memorialize a few.)

Humboldt University

Französischer Dom

Staatsoper

On the fifth day of Christmas, Berlin gave to me:

Olympiastadion

12 Days of Christmas (part 1 of 3)

2009-12-26T13:02:00.009+01:00

This being our first Christmas away from family, John and I were nervous about how to spend the post-presents-and-breakfast hours of Christmas day. Several weeks ago we agreed to a “12 Days of Christmas” inspired scavenger hunt in Berlin. While I can’t exactly explain where the idea came from, we hoped it would occupy some time, produce some laughs, and let us further explore our city.

John was assigned the even and I the odd numbers of the 12 days and we each began to hunt for landmarks, buildings, and sites in Berlin that roughly matched the lines of the song. Yesterday morning we presented our clues to each other, and once solved, set out in Berlin to take pictures. Here we present the “12 Days of Christmas in Berlin.”

On the twelfth day of Christmas, Berlin gave to me:

A favorite restaurant in Berlin, noted for its unique pizzas.

On the eleventh day of Christmas, Berlin gave to me:

The Neue Wache, a war memorial.

On the tenth day of Christmas, Berlin gave to me:

The Weltzeituhr, the World Time Clock at Alexanderplatz.

On the ninth day of Christmas, Berlin gave to me:

A statue in front of the Auswärtiges Amt, the Foreign Ministry where John worked.

Christmas in Germany

2009-12-23T23:55:00.005+01:00

Saying that Christmastime in Germany has been different than in America is probably an understatement. It’s always the differences that stand out when you’re a foreigner, particularly things you admire. Here are some of my favorite things from Dezember’s Adventszeit, or Advent season so far:
1. When was the last time someone in the U.S. wished you a merry Advent? For four weeks now, Germans at work, at the bakery, on television and elsewhere have routinely left me with this upon departing. I find it particularly pleasant, and even reassuring to know that a whole society still recognizes Advent as a distinct time of year.
2. Next question: when was the last time you stood around with your co-workers and sang carols and hymns at your Christmas party? Well, the other night we certainly did at ours, an interesting departure from the strict division of Church and State adhered to in the States. But it was also a welcome and refreshing moment for me. Truly, it’s been a lot of fun to (try to) sing hymns in German, many of which are rather familiar because we sing them in English: “Herbei, O ihr Gläubigen” (Oh Come O Ye Faithful), “Stille Nacht” (Silent Night), and “O Tannenbaum.” John’s Recommended German Christmas Carol of 2009? Well, the winner is “Es ist ein Ros entsprungen,” or “Lo, How a Rose E'er Blooming.” Check out a version here.
3. Germany seems to have special cuisine during the Christmas season, a phenomenon more or less lacking in the US. I recently ate a Weihnachtsschlemmerei (a Christmas feast, not to mention a mouthful to say too!) which was a generous helping of crispy goose (my first) and duck served aside Grünkohl (kale?) and Apfelrotkohl (red cabbage and apple deliciousness). As I was even forewarned, this apple cabbage stuff just tastes like Christmas. And as for the green kale-like vegetable mash, this stuff is so popular that one northern city in Germany even crowns a national politician as the Grünkohlkönig, or Grünkohl-King, annually. Angela Merkel was selected a couple years back. I will definitely need these recipes before departing.
4. The Christmas markets, while kitschy at times to be sure, have been a true highlight of the season. Berlin alone probably has thirty, and it seems every town large and small in this country goes all out for their very own. Everywhere you go, you encounter the smells of roasted almonds, Spekulatius spiced cookies, hot mulled wine, and cherry beer; the sounds of Christmas choirs, bells, and trumpeters with their festive Christmas music; the colorfully lit stands of merchants selling gingerbread, handmade wooden decorations from the Erzgebirge, and other potential Christmas gifts. They really put me in the Christmas mood, and to be honest I even go out of my way sometimes just to walk through them. Of course, they are dangerous because it’s nearly impossible to walk through the festivities without suddenly realizing that you need a quick glass of mulled wine, a gingerbread, or maybe another Erzgebirge Pyramid just for the heck of it.

5. I always thought that the song "Last Christmas," by the fabled British duo Wham, was terrifically overplayed in America. That was before coming to Germany, where it seems legally required to play the song at every possible opportunity and ruin any Christmas mood that anyone might have. Funny enough, the music video just came on the TV again. Ok yeah I must go now and reclaim my Christmas cheer.

Because Lauren and I are staying in Berlin this year, we will be posting more in the next couple days about our Christmas abroad.

When life gives you a wine rack...

2009-12-18T11:18:00.005+01:00

...make it into a Christmas tree!

A piece of Krakow

2009-12-16T09:00:00.006+01:00

In 1937 Krakow held its first official nativity scene contest for the residents of the city. This beginning of a tradition was not actually the beginning at all. The people of Krakow had been making nativities since the 19th century, though their form had slightly changed and previously, competition had been for the eye and money of wealthy families.

On Friday John and I were able to see the entries into the 67th contest in Krakow and they were unbelievable. These aren't your normal holy family in a wooden stall kind of nativities. Artists (most of them amateurs, many of them children) use buildings from the city itself as inspiration for their fairy tale structures. The buildings are elaborately and ornately decorated with colorful foil, tiny stained glass windows, and intricate, albeit miniature metalwork. Windows are lit up, walls are covered in ornate papers; not a single detail is left undone.

At the center of the building is always the holy family but the other characters that appear are a bit surprising. There's local villagers wearing traditional costumes, musicians, protagonists of Krakow's legends like the Dragon of Wawel Hill, the bugle players of St. Mary's church, and Mephistopheles, to name a few.

We were also able to see some of the winning entries from years past and these were just as impressive as the modern versions. The mechanized ones were particularly fun to watch. Characters spun in place, Mary rocked the cradle, angels flew back and forth and the buglers popped out of the tallest towers. Keep in mind that this is all done by hand! It was truly magical and so we wanted to share it with you.

Wednesday afternoons

2009-12-10T10:27:00.006+01:00

I spend Wednesday afternoons in a tiny shop, cluttered with thread, fabric, zippers and about 12 sewing machines. My sewing "class" is more like an independent study; you bring a project and then Linda, the instructor gives instructions one step at a time and off you go. In case you were becoming mildly impressed, Linda speaks to me exclusively in English. My German is good enough to order food but definitely not ready to discuss pleats and hidden seams.

Sewing is something my mother and sister do very well. John and I have them to thank for every curtain that's hung in our apartments and most of the pillows. My Grandmother Casey sewed. I'm fairly certain my Aunt Jan sews and I know my Uncle Frank does. I figured it was high time I joined the ranks of Caseys who sew.

Sew far my efforts are a mixed bag. Linda likes to call some of my hems "creative." Sewing a straight line is still a work in progress. I've been told to think about ripping out threads as "zen" but I'm pretty sure that was said just to make me feel better about the third time I sewed on my ruffles. My two completed projects could likely withstand a spin in the wash without falling to pieces but really should only be viewed from a distance.

All that said, I'm totally digging the sewing class. It makes me feel domestic (especially when I create things like aprons). While I don't think I'll get to a point where I trust anyone but my mother or sister with my pillows, I look forward to pushing the pedals, loading some bobbins and sewing up a storm.

First project: The bag at the top. Yes, of course, it's lined.

Second project: Heidi-esque apron. Ridiculous but an excellent project for mastering skills like gathering. As he took the picture, John said "put up your arm." Not sure the look he was going for but it's the best shot of me in the apron.

Next project: After a minor accident in the kitchen my favorite potholder is a charred, burnt mess. I'm going to whip up a new one!!

Here's the website for the shop if you're interested!

Merry Christmas! Have a prune.

2009-12-07T12:46:00.004+01:00

John and I spent this weekend in Görlitz and Dresden, exploring the cities and strolling through the markets. It was a fabulous weekend. We had excellent company, good food, and lots to see. I have posted the pictures up on Picasa if you want to take a look.

The markets are full of traditional German food and decorations. By far, the weirdest were the Zwetschgenmännlein, or prune people. These figurines are a specialty of Nürnberg, but were being sold in Dresden. Traditionally they are about 8 inches tall. Their bodies are made of prunes strung together on wires. They have raisin hands and peanut feet. Their faces are made from painted walnuts. They usually look like farmers, musicians, or chimney sweeps but apparently can be created to look like just about any profession. They are creepy.

Here's a bit of advice from the sellers of the prune people: "You will never be without gold and happiness, if you have a prune person in your house." Prune propaganda? I think so.

Weihnachtsmärkte

2009-12-01T09:35:00.005+01:00

With the start of Advent on Sunday, Christmas season has fully begun here in Germany. One of the staples of a German Christmas are the Weihnachtsmärkte, or Christmas markets. To say we are excited about the markets doesn't even touch our true feelings. These markets were one of the first items to appear on our "pro" list when we were deciding to move to Germany. John is beside himself with glee at the mere mention of their name. And man, we're going to see a bunch of them. Because you are going to be assaulted with Weihnachtsmarkt pictures for the next 3 weeks, I thought I'd link you to some information on their history and appeal.

Click on this link to read about the markets from Germany's official tourism site, including information on every market city in the country. John and I will be visiting the Dresden, Görlitz, Nuremberg, and Bamberg markets.

We'll be adding pictures to a Christmas album on Picasa.

Collected thoughts on cooking in Germany

2009-11-27T12:59:00.004+01:00

Let me preface this by saying that the following is more a commentary on my personal skills in the kitchen than a critique of German culture, culinary conventions, or kitchens. As her blog shows, Christina, a friend here in Berlin, is able to produce delicious meals in spite of (even in light of) our location. And, the included picture is not from here in Berlin. It's from a birthday party for John and other friends last year. (We miss you, Yada!) It's just picture evidence that I do cook.

When I go into a Spätkauf (sort of like a convenience store) looking for eggs and get worried because they are not in the refrigerator, I have to remember - Germans don’t refrigerate eggs. I just need to look on the shelves next to the cookies.

Neither sour cream nor cream cheese are sold in 8oz packages. American recipes repeatedly and consistently call for these amounts and I repeatedly have to sprint to the computer (because inevitably I don’t remember this until I’m in the middle of making something) do calculations, run the numbers and then maybe, approximately come out with the correct amount.

Mexicorn does not exist in Germany. However, other canned corn mixes do exist in great variety. zum Beispiel (for example): corn + red peppers and green beans, corn + pineapple, corn + kidney beans, corn + carrots.

My mother has always been “on call” when I’m in the kitchen and this tradition hasn’t stopped just because I live in a radically different time zone. (Thank you Skype, for letting me call US home phones, work phones, and cell phones when necessary.)

zum Beispiel:

Me: “Mom, my cake is bubbling over and out of the bundt pan in the oven. There are blobs of cake cooking all over the bottom of the oven and running down the sides of the pan. Should I take it out?.”

Mom: “Yeah, you can’t save it. You’re going to need to take it out before it makes a bigger mess.”

Me: pause...“So this is a total loss?”

Mom: “Yes, definitely. Go get it out of the oven immediately!”

Cooking without a microwave is really only an inconvenience when it comes time to reheat leftovers. I can soften butter by letting it hang out on the radiator. I can (begrudgingly) do without popcorn for a year. But trying to cook meals that last for more than one sitting is a pain in the butt. Reheating pasta is particularly a challenge (one that requires my special brand of trial and error.)

Why have I had to learn to go to the grocery store with at least two viable recipe options for dinner? Because our grocery store erratically stocks meat. Today it’s nothing but turkey schnitzel and chicken wings. Tomorrow it may be ground beef and pork chops. Oh, they always have sausage. Always.