As I might have mentioned in an earlier post, I share a kitchen with a suitemate. However, she's been out of the country for the summer break here and just got back today.
I was re-organizing the kitchen this evening and listening to the Avenue Q soundtrack. If you aren't already familiar with Avenue Q, this might not be as amusing to you, but I think you can still get the gist of it.
So when my suitemate and her friend happen to arrive at the kitchen door and walk in, my computer happened to be blasting "The Internet Is For Porn." Not only was it playing "The Internet Is For Porn," but at the very moment that both of them walked in, it was playing the ending chorus.
Which goes something like, "Pooooorn, POOOORN, POOOOOORNNN!!!!"
. . . . . .
I can only hope they didn't recognize what was being belted with gusto when I practically ran at the computer with glass drinking glasses still in my hand and slammed the pause button. Stellar first impression.
(Of all the few days that I am not listening to classical or trance/techno... Of all days!)
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Einstufungstest
1) Go to this link: Einstufungstest
2) Select "Test" from the small drop-down menu on the left.
3) Click "weiter" ("continue/further").
4) On the next page, select "Englisch" (or for kicks, some other language you know).
5) Click "Start Demo".
6) Take the test. You're given 25 minutes, but it won't take you that long if you're a native speaker.
7) Once you're done, click the "jetzt abgeben" ("submit now") button at the top of the page.
Okay. Did you try out the test? I'd also just be curious to know how you scored. (It'll be a sum number out of 100 at the end after you click "jetzt abgeben".) Just for the record, I'm a native English speaker, and I only scored around 80-85, having taken the test twice. "Pretty darn good" students of a foreign language are supposed to score in the 70's. I'd like to know what other native speakers score.
If/Once you get the idea, then get this:
I HAVE TO TAKE THIS TEST IN GERMAN TODAY.
.. I feel apprehensive. Drücke mir die Daumen, people!
2) Select "Test" from the small drop-down menu on the left.
3) Click "weiter" ("continue/further").
4) On the next page, select "Englisch" (or for kicks, some other language you know).
5) Click "Start Demo".
6) Take the test. You're given 25 minutes, but it won't take you that long if you're a native speaker.
7) Once you're done, click the "jetzt abgeben" ("submit now") button at the top of the page.
Okay. Did you try out the test? I'd also just be curious to know how you scored. (It'll be a sum number out of 100 at the end after you click "jetzt abgeben".) Just for the record, I'm a native English speaker, and I only scored around 80-85, having taken the test twice. "Pretty darn good" students of a foreign language are supposed to score in the 70's. I'd like to know what other native speakers score.
If/Once you get the idea, then get this:
I HAVE TO TAKE THIS TEST IN GERMAN TODAY.
.. I feel apprehensive. Drücke mir die Daumen, people!
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Oktoberfest: Last Reflections
Alright, so I do admittedly think that if you've never been to Oktoberfest, you should go at least once (and hopefully only once), because it is, after all, world-famous, quite the event, good opportunity if you're around, blah blah etc. But just for the record, a single 1-liter beer there costs €8.30 (that's $12.14. Typically, you can get that much for about €3-5 in restaurants/bars, and €1-2 in supermarkets). To even get a seat in one of the 8 Biergarten tents, if you're even lucky enough to shove in or made a reservation, is about €65 (that's about $95.00).
From personal experience, I had to wash my pants immediately upon arrival home tonight because of aforementioned vomit flecks, and general Oktoberfest nastiness -- which includes, but is not limited to: the scum from trash thrown on the ground, unavoidable fogs of cigarette ash, spilled beer, splashed bits of beer and sausage vomit, plus the germs from the other 28370572375025 people you bumped, shoved, squeezed past, and nearly got trampled by on your way in, plus the germs from the other 240723753027527302 people you bumped, shoved, squeezed past, and nearly go trampled by on your way out.
Oh god.... if you're the Oktoberfest-going kind of person, fine. By all means, gohit three birds with one stone: your Time, your Money, and your Dignity enjoy yourself. If you happen to dislike the larger crowds and noise like myself, follow these simple steps:
Uach, I missed dinner, too.... I need to go find something light to eat this late.
Will post pictures up when I don't have to wake up early the next morning, so keep on the lookout later.
From personal experience, I had to wash my pants immediately upon arrival home tonight because of aforementioned vomit flecks, and general Oktoberfest nastiness -- which includes, but is not limited to: the scum from trash thrown on the ground, unavoidable fogs of cigarette ash, spilled beer, splashed bits of beer and sausage vomit, plus the germs from the other 28370572375025 people you bumped, shoved, squeezed past, and nearly got trampled by on your way in, plus the germs from the other 240723753027527302 people you bumped, shoved, squeezed past, and nearly go trampled by on your way out.
Oh god.... if you're the Oktoberfest-going kind of person, fine. By all means, go
1) Go to Oktoberfest if you have not been.
2) Walk in.
3) Look around. Only 5 minutes are necessary for overall effect.
4) Leave and explore München instead.
4a) Leave and explore München and visit the beautiful church close by like I did instead.
Uach, I missed dinner, too.... I need to go find something light to eat this late.
Will post pictures up when I don't have to wake up early the next morning, so keep on the lookout later.
Oktoberfest: Alternate Recommendations
Now I really don't like to be negative, and I know that I'm in a minority here who happen to dislike loud partying events and making a dumb sh*t of yourself drinking beer.
But here's the thing. If you want Oktoberfest without all the overwhelming DUMB, go to local/regional beer festivals, such as Herbstdult/Dultfest in Regensburg, or Gillamoos Fest in Abensberg. These are smaller-scale beerfests with all the beer, all the rides, all the food, all the souvenirs, all for cheaper, cleaner atmosphere, less stressful, and with much less of the feeling that you're a salmon fighting your way upstream with a million other salmon who have all likewise lost their mind and are blindly following some primitive instinct to get to the goal, spew things from their innards, and FLOP OVER LIKE A STUPID, BRAINLESS FISH.
But here's the thing. If you want Oktoberfest without all the overwhelming DUMB, go to local/regional beer festivals, such as Herbstdult/Dultfest in Regensburg, or Gillamoos Fest in Abensberg. These are smaller-scale beerfests with all the beer, all the rides, all the food, all the souvenirs, all for cheaper, cleaner atmosphere, less stressful, and with much less of the feeling that you're a salmon fighting your way upstream with a million other salmon who have all likewise lost their mind and are blindly following some primitive instinct to get to the goal, spew things from their innards, and FLOP OVER LIKE A STUPID, BRAINLESS FISH.
Oktoberfest in München: Negative Reports First
Today, we had an excursion to München (Munich), as mentioned previously. To sum some things up, by the time I finally got on the train back to Regensburg, I was overall tired, not amused, cold, and had yellow flecks of vomit on the back of my pant legs.
Thanks, Oktoberfest.
I'll start out earlier in the day. We met at the Bahnhof (train station) early this morning, and got to München at around 10:30. The morning was saved for a small tour of the Deutsches Museum, which is famous for being the largest technical museum in the world. Very high quality stuff. The museum really is huge. The tour lasted about two hours, but though the guide was very knowledgeable, it still somehow felt rushed, despite that we'd probably only covered about 1/8th of the museum. Once the tour was over, we were allowed all the free time we wanted until we felt like taking the train back. I was so excited to now be able to explore the rest of the museum on my own, and I set out immediately with a new target exhibit in mind.
But then my "group" called. We have to travel together under one "Bayernticket." It's a much cheaper ticket (€27 as opposed to €18 singles) that covers 5 people, and you can use it for the subway, train, anything, etc. for a whole day for those 5 people. A nice and recommended deal, but also comes with some inflexibility when it comes to situations like this. At any rate, we all have to stick together to get anywhere, and the ticket is held only under one name (which, today, was mine).
We had all this time to hit up awesome exhibits in a top-notch museum, and where did everyone else want to go? Bloody Oktober-freaking-fest. Yes, somehow that smelly, loud, crowded, cramped, beer-sloshing, vomit-hurling Stew of Disgusting was the far more attractive prospect.
You have to understand this about me. First, I am no fan of alcohol in any form. Oktoberfest is infamously fueled by beer in the thousands of liters. Secondly, I hate crowds. The more pressing, loud and clustered the crowd, the more I will hate it. Thus, Oktoberfest faced no obstacle in earning a place on my distaste list.
Oh, and last of all, don't ever give me the, "But drunk people are funny!" counter-argument. I will not be pleased with you. I enjoy watching drunk people to the same degree that I enjoy watching a group of schoolboys surrounding a frog and slowly killing it with sharp sticks just for the hell of it and giggling like morons about it. That is to say, I don't. I don't like watching someone ingesting poison by the liter-full and destroying mind and body for it while others watch and laugh. If we took that sentence out of context, would you enjoy it, too?
Thanks, Oktoberfest.
I'll start out earlier in the day. We met at the Bahnhof (train station) early this morning, and got to München at around 10:30. The morning was saved for a small tour of the Deutsches Museum, which is famous for being the largest technical museum in the world. Very high quality stuff. The museum really is huge. The tour lasted about two hours, but though the guide was very knowledgeable, it still somehow felt rushed, despite that we'd probably only covered about 1/8th of the museum. Once the tour was over, we were allowed all the free time we wanted until we felt like taking the train back. I was so excited to now be able to explore the rest of the museum on my own, and I set out immediately with a new target exhibit in mind.
But then my "group" called. We have to travel together under one "Bayernticket." It's a much cheaper ticket (€27 as opposed to €18 singles) that covers 5 people, and you can use it for the subway, train, anything, etc. for a whole day for those 5 people. A nice and recommended deal, but also comes with some inflexibility when it comes to situations like this. At any rate, we all have to stick together to get anywhere, and the ticket is held only under one name (which, today, was mine).
We had all this time to hit up awesome exhibits in a top-notch museum, and where did everyone else want to go? Bloody Oktober-freaking-fest. Yes, somehow that smelly, loud, crowded, cramped, beer-sloshing, vomit-hurling Stew of Disgusting was the far more attractive prospect.
You have to understand this about me. First, I am no fan of alcohol in any form. Oktoberfest is infamously fueled by beer in the thousands of liters. Secondly, I hate crowds. The more pressing, loud and clustered the crowd, the more I will hate it. Thus, Oktoberfest faced no obstacle in earning a place on my distaste list.
Oh, and last of all, don't ever give me the, "But drunk people are funny!" counter-argument. I will not be pleased with you. I enjoy watching drunk people to the same degree that I enjoy watching a group of schoolboys surrounding a frog and slowly killing it with sharp sticks just for the hell of it and giggling like morons about it. That is to say, I don't. I don't like watching someone ingesting poison by the liter-full and destroying mind and body for it while others watch and laugh. If we took that sentence out of context, would you enjoy it, too?
Friday, September 26, 2008
"Ja, Probieren!"
("Yes, Do Try!")
Today I got slightly ripped-off by some Hungarians. But at least this marzipan is really tastmmmm....
More on that later.
Taking a train to München (Munich) for the day tomorrow. We'll be visiting what I've heard is an excellent museum in the morning, and then they are letting us free-roam all afternoon and evening until we feel like taking the train back to Regensburg. I'm thinking Oktoberfest will be fun.... but stressful.... and loud.... and drunk....
Today I got slightly ripped-off by some Hungarians. But at least this marzipan is really tastmmmm....
More on that later.
Taking a train to München (Munich) for the day tomorrow. We'll be visiting what I've heard is an excellent museum in the morning, and then they are letting us free-roam all afternoon and evening until we feel like taking the train back to Regensburg. I'm thinking Oktoberfest will be fun.... but stressful.... and loud.... and drunk....
Monday, September 22, 2008
Zahlen ("Counting")
Often you can tell what the mother tongue of a person is by identifying the language they use to count out something. It's pretty interesting.
On a somewhat related and entirely remarkable note, I need to mention a few of our foreign exchange student tutors/program coordinators:
And they act like it's NOTHING.
On a somewhat related and entirely remarkable note, I need to mention a few of our foreign exchange student tutors/program coordinators:
- One of them comes from the Czech Republic. She fluently speaks Czech, English and German, plus what she claims is "just a little" Russian, but is a lie because I have heard her having conversations with the Russian students.
- The next one is half Italian. She fluently speaks Italian, German, Spanish, and virtually accent-free English.
- The next one is German. She studies literature, linguistics and culture. She fluently speaks German, English, Czech, Russian, and Spanish.
And they act like it's NOTHING.
Evening on the Haidplatz: Theo
This happened on the same day as the unicycle event, but I didn't get a chance to write about both yesterday. If you don't want just a nice little encounter story, don't bother reading.
I got home by bus at around 16:30. I was really hungry, but it was too early to eat any sort of dinner. So I had a very small bowl of müsli and then headed out to the Haidplatz again to practice poi. I go outside on the street to practice very often because 1) there is plenty of room and what I'm swinging won't hit a ceiling. 2) I have no full-length mirror in my room, so being the clever, resourceful little thing that I am, I stand in front of dark shop windows outside and use the reflections to practice form.
Towards the end of about 1.5 hours later, I noticed an old gentleman standing a ways behind me in the reflection. This is nothing new, since people often pause for a moment out of sheer, momentary, "What the..." when they pass by. However, he lingered for a while, as the occasionally on-looker does. When I finally stopped briefly to take a break, I heard a single applause behind me, and I turned to see him grinning and clapping his hands. I thanked him, because you always acknowledge your audience. It doesn't matter how badly you think you might have done.
Juggling/skill toys are natural conversation starters, so it's exactly what happened. He asked me about what I was doing, and I explained poi, its Maori origins, etc. He told me he was overall impressed with how graceful it looks. (Let's ignore the fact that while practicing, I usually smack myself with the poi numerous times every minute).
He was genuinely interested, but big drops of rain suddenly started falling, to the point of being too heavy to ignore. We both agreed to dart inside somewhere, and he led us to the Goldenes Kreuz Café just a few steps away. (Such a coincidence -- Do you remember Herr Beckers?) He asked if I'd like a coffee, and he waved it off and insisted on treating me when I told him I hadn't brought my money with me. I took a tea instead since I don't drink coffee.
We continued talking, and I spent an evening in great conversation. The old gentleman's name is Theo, and he even insisted on "Sie können mir Du sagen" right off the bat. (For those who don't speak German, "du" is the familiar form of You, which was odd to me in this case because I'm not used to saying "du" with someone 40-ish years my elder. I mean, you wouldn't say, "Hey, 'sup?" to your grandfather).
The cafe was unfortunately closing soon afterward, but the rain stopped and he suggested continuing conversation on a walk to the Danube. It was nice outside, and we would have been kicked out soon anyway.
We walked down to Steinerne Brücke and all the way to the other side in the Stadtamhof -- or in other terms, about half a mile. We talked the entire way there and back about so very much, more than I could comfortably fit in even two or three entries here. He had this extraordinarily good impression of me, which made me sort of embarrassed, but not really in a bad way. I also improved some German (as you invariably do when you actually use a language) since he corrected me and frequently gave suggestions of alternate, more colloquial wording to things that I was trying to say. Very helpful.
Ah, but what a romantic idea it is, meeting a stranger in a city of Italian streets, engaging in conversation for an entire evening over tea and coffee and a stroll across the famed Blue Danube itself. These are surely storybook encounters.
I got home by bus at around 16:30. I was really hungry, but it was too early to eat any sort of dinner. So I had a very small bowl of müsli and then headed out to the Haidplatz again to practice poi. I go outside on the street to practice very often because 1) there is plenty of room and what I'm swinging won't hit a ceiling. 2) I have no full-length mirror in my room, so being the clever, resourceful little thing that I am, I stand in front of dark shop windows outside and use the reflections to practice form.
Towards the end of about 1.5 hours later, I noticed an old gentleman standing a ways behind me in the reflection. This is nothing new, since people often pause for a moment out of sheer, momentary, "What the..." when they pass by. However, he lingered for a while, as the occasionally on-looker does. When I finally stopped briefly to take a break, I heard a single applause behind me, and I turned to see him grinning and clapping his hands. I thanked him, because you always acknowledge your audience. It doesn't matter how badly you think you might have done.
Juggling/skill toys are natural conversation starters, so it's exactly what happened. He asked me about what I was doing, and I explained poi, its Maori origins, etc. He told me he was overall impressed with how graceful it looks. (Let's ignore the fact that while practicing, I usually smack myself with the poi numerous times every minute).
He was genuinely interested, but big drops of rain suddenly started falling, to the point of being too heavy to ignore. We both agreed to dart inside somewhere, and he led us to the Goldenes Kreuz Café just a few steps away. (Such a coincidence -- Do you remember Herr Beckers?) He asked if I'd like a coffee, and he waved it off and insisted on treating me when I told him I hadn't brought my money with me. I took a tea instead since I don't drink coffee.
We continued talking, and I spent an evening in great conversation. The old gentleman's name is Theo, and he even insisted on "Sie können mir Du sagen" right off the bat. (For those who don't speak German, "du" is the familiar form of You, which was odd to me in this case because I'm not used to saying "du" with someone 40-ish years my elder. I mean, you wouldn't say, "Hey, 'sup?" to your grandfather).
The cafe was unfortunately closing soon afterward, but the rain stopped and he suggested continuing conversation on a walk to the Danube. It was nice outside, and we would have been kicked out soon anyway.
We walked down to Steinerne Brücke and all the way to the other side in the Stadtamhof -- or in other terms, about half a mile. We talked the entire way there and back about so very much, more than I could comfortably fit in even two or three entries here. He had this extraordinarily good impression of me, which made me sort of embarrassed, but not really in a bad way. I also improved some German (as you invariably do when you actually use a language) since he corrected me and frequently gave suggestions of alternate, more colloquial wording to things that I was trying to say. Very helpful.
Ah, but what a romantic idea it is, meeting a stranger in a city of Italian streets, engaging in conversation for an entire evening over tea and coffee and a stroll across the famed Blue Danube itself. These are surely storybook encounters.
Sunday, September 21, 2008
World Record One Wheelers!
If you noticed the entry two posts ago, then you'll know where I was today. However, because uploading and detailing so many pictures onto blog posts is a real pain in the rear, I've just put them all up on my Picasa web album (which incidentally also holds a great amount of other pictures that I've taken since being here). Here's the direct link to the album of just today's pictures:
2008 World Record Unicycling!
Gewerbepark, Regensburg
Here's the scoop. In 2005, there was a big unicycling get-together event held in order to attempt the largest number of unicyclists riding 500 meters with no falls or crashes. The turn out was huger than expected, with over 1400 participants in the final successful count.
Today, this even was held once again in Gewerbepark, Regensburg, to try and beat that old record. Apparently, these unicyclists today managed 800 meters for a count of over 1600 riders.
.... I WAS IN THE SAME PLACE AS 1600 OTHER PEOPLE WHO CAN UNICYCLE TOO!!!
*faints in delight*
Today was just marvelous. That's all the detail that I need to cover in the blog for now, so go sofort ("immediately") to the link above to see the pictures and further details of the event. Also, I took some video while walking around. I'm hoping to assemble the clips together and perhaps upload it on YouTube sometime.
Ohhhhh, I was so pleased today.
Gewerbepark, Regensburg
Here's the scoop. In 2005, there was a big unicycling get-together event held in order to attempt the largest number of unicyclists riding 500 meters with no falls or crashes. The turn out was huger than expected, with over 1400 participants in the final successful count.
Today, this even was held once again in Gewerbepark, Regensburg, to try and beat that old record. Apparently, these unicyclists today managed 800 meters for a count of over 1600 riders.
.... I WAS IN THE SAME PLACE AS 1600 OTHER PEOPLE WHO CAN UNICYCLE TOO!!!
*faints in delight*
Today was just marvelous. That's all the detail that I need to cover in the blog for now, so go sofort ("immediately") to the link above to see the pictures and further details of the event. Also, I took some video while walking around. I'm hoping to assemble the clips together and perhaps upload it on YouTube sometime.
Ohhhhh, I was so pleased today.
Pause
I had nothing less than a totally fantastic day.
-- But first, I need to go cook dinner, because the only thing I've consumed all day is cereal with milk, a cup of green tea, a banana, and two pieces of free German candy.
-- But first, I need to go cook dinner, because the only thing I've consumed all day is cereal with milk, a cup of green tea, a banana, and two pieces of free German candy.
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Einradfahrer!
Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh my goodness. THIS is happening tomorrow, in MY CITY:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fRMraUbXv00&feature=related
But I'm not sure yet if I should go. It will be really cold tomorrow. It's also not a very close walk, and I don't have a bike yet. And there's a ticket price to attend. But that's so cool... And never in my life would I have been around that many other unicyclists at the same time in the same place... That's part of what would be so awesome.
WAIT, scratch that, I just very much pinpointed a bus with a route to Gewerbepark!... Ohh, efficient public transportation is a beautiful thing... Aghh, I must contain my excitement, and I must go!
But I'm not sure yet if I should go. It will be really cold tomorrow. It's also not a very close walk, and I don't have a bike yet. And there's a ticket price to attend. But that's so cool... And never in my life would I have been around that many other unicyclists at the same time in the same place... That's part of what would be so awesome.
WAIT, scratch that, I just very much pinpointed a bus with a route to Gewerbepark!... Ohh, efficient public transportation is a beautiful thing... Aghh, I must contain my excitement, and I must go!
Friday, September 19, 2008
*** Tips: Supermarket Lines ***
Here is another useful point of note for those of you who are considering coming to Germany for any amount of time long enough to require buying groceries.
In most Supermarkte here, the conveyor belt and racks of gum and candy will usually look familiar enough to, say, American grocery stores. What you might not see coming is that there will not be anybody there to pack your groceries for you. Do not, by any means, expect it as it happens in America (and in Great Britain, as I hear).
This will be your grocery checkout protocol:
If you have successfully packed nearly everything by the time she tells you your sum, well done.
If you have NOT successfully packed nearly everything by the time she tells you your sum, you might be wondering why there is a need for all this hurry.
For the answer, all you need to do is glance behind you at two things: The long line of unamused German shoppers who already have the system down to an art and are now watching you fumble everything in a messy toss into your bags, and the rapidly-growing pile of the next person's groceries on your side of the scanner.
However, all of this stress and hassle can be easily avoided with the pre-arranged growth of two extra arms.
Vielen Glück!/Good Luck!
(On a more serious note, don't let all of this intimidate you. I'm just giving you a heads-up. If you're really living here, you will get used to it, and you'll get it with practice. But do keep this in mind once you start going out and shopping.)
In most Supermarkte here, the conveyor belt and racks of gum and candy will usually look familiar enough to, say, American grocery stores. What you might not see coming is that there will not be anybody there to pack your groceries for you. Do not, by any means, expect it as it happens in America (and in Great Britain, as I hear).
This will be your grocery checkout protocol:
1) HAVE YOUR WALLET/MONEY READY TO PAY.
2) Place everything on conveyor belt, as usual.
3) Wait for your turn at the cashier, as usual.
4) Option A: Grab as many €0.50 plastic grocery bags under the conveyor belt counter as you think you will need, and place on conveyor belt to be included in payment.
- Option B: Have your backpack open and ready (option preferred by Yours Truly).
5) As soon as the cashier starts scanning, PACK LIKE THERE IS NO TOMORROW.
6) Continuing packing Like There Is No Tomorrow.
If you have successfully packed nearly everything by the time she tells you your sum, well done.
7) Pay and accept the change promptly, cleanly and efficiently -- which is much easier said than done.
8) Bid good day and be on your way, groceries in hand.
If you have NOT successfully packed nearly everything by the time she tells you your sum, you might be wondering why there is a need for all this hurry.
For the answer, all you need to do is glance behind you at two things: The long line of unamused German shoppers who already have the system down to an art and are now watching you fumble everything in a messy toss into your bags, and the rapidly-growing pile of the next person's groceries on your side of the scanner.
However, all of this stress and hassle can be easily avoided with the pre-arranged growth of two extra arms.
Vielen Glück!/Good Luck!
(On a more serious note, don't let all of this intimidate you. I'm just giving you a heads-up. If you're really living here, you will get used to it, and you'll get it with practice. But do keep this in mind once you start going out and shopping.)
"Ich Lerne Deutsch"
("I learn/am learning German")
For the month of September, all of us foreign exchange students are taking an intensive language course in German, basically so that when actual university classes start, we won't get run over quite as quickly or horribly by the new, overwhelming amount of German. (Um... we hope.)
All 70-80 of us took a placement test to see in which of the 4 levels we were all to be divided, which range from no German experience whatsoever to having a pretty darn good and conversational grasp of German. Luckily, I got slotted into the fourth and highest or "advanced" class.
We've had the same main teacher up until yesterday (I'm trying not to cry that she's gone now), because she had to leave before the course's end. Ergo, we had a new teacher starting yesterday, and everyone went around the room again to introduce his/herself, much like a first day of class. The usual stuff: Name, country of origin, years of German studied, major at university, etc.
What I now realized as of yesterday is that about 90% of my class has had about 8-11 years of German in school.
This was a very big but pleasant surprise. I have only had 3-4 years of German, only 1.5 of which were in actual German classes in school. And I'm in this class!!
I'm trying not to float to the ceiling with pride for myself.
(PS -- Let's just not talk about how Claudio from Italy has only had 2 years, and Jóse from Spain has only had 3 stonking months, both of who are also in my class. That's just unnatural. They are probably living freaks of Nature. That is incredibly fast language learning for not living in a country of that language. Or even living in that country, too.)
For the month of September, all of us foreign exchange students are taking an intensive language course in German, basically so that when actual university classes start, we won't get run over quite as quickly or horribly by the new, overwhelming amount of German. (Um... we hope.)
All 70-80 of us took a placement test to see in which of the 4 levels we were all to be divided, which range from no German experience whatsoever to having a pretty darn good and conversational grasp of German. Luckily, I got slotted into the fourth and highest or "advanced" class.
We've had the same main teacher up until yesterday (I'm trying not to cry that she's gone now), because she had to leave before the course's end. Ergo, we had a new teacher starting yesterday, and everyone went around the room again to introduce his/herself, much like a first day of class. The usual stuff: Name, country of origin, years of German studied, major at university, etc.
What I now realized as of yesterday is that about 90% of my class has had about 8-11 years of German in school.
This was a very big but pleasant surprise. I have only had 3-4 years of German, only 1.5 of which were in actual German classes in school. And I'm in this class!!
I'm trying not to float to the ceiling with pride for myself.
(PS -- Let's just not talk about how Claudio from Italy has only had 2 years, and Jóse from Spain has only had 3 stonking months, both of who are also in my class. That's just unnatural. They are probably living freaks of Nature. That is incredibly fast language learning for not living in a country of that language. Or even living in that country, too.)
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Der Rote Regenschirm - P.S.
By the way,
Herr Beckers, who took the nice photos of me and my red umbrella in the rain last week (see post: Evening on the Haidplatz: Der Rote Regenschirm, sits at the Goldenes Kreuz ("Golden Cross") Cafe on the Haidplatz every day from 6:00-7:00 PM.
Outside of traveling and illness, he has held this daily routine for 38 years.
Herr Beckers, who took the nice photos of me and my red umbrella in the rain last week (see post: Evening on the Haidplatz: Der Rote Regenschirm, sits at the Goldenes Kreuz ("Golden Cross") Cafe on the Haidplatz every day from 6:00-7:00 PM.
Outside of traveling and illness, he has held this daily routine for 38 years.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Google Germany
Oh! I haven't mentioned this yet. When you try to go to www.gmail.com (Google Mail) here, this is the exact message that comes up on a blank white page, word for word:
I just think the plain "Bummer." part is so funny.
We can't provide service under the Gmail name in Germany; we're called Google Mail here instead.
If you're traveling in Germany, you can access your mail at http://mail.google.com.
Oh, and we'd like to link the URL above, but we're not allowed to do that either. Bummer.
For general information about Google, please visit www.google.com or www.google.de.
I just think the plain "Bummer." part is so funny.
Putzen (Cleaning)
There's a cleaning lady (and sometimes the Hausmeister) who comes into my(/our) kitchen every Tuesday morning, presumably (and maybe Friday?). The way my suite is set up is that you walk straight into a kitchen, which has a door on either side that lead to my room and my suitemate's, respectively. So while she fortunately never does or has to come in my room, I do still hear her.
Also fortunately, I'm usually awake by the time she comes in, which tends to float around 7:45 AM. I'm sure most other students are not that lucky.
Once, I had the misfortune of having no idea why someone was in the kitchen and stepping out to investigate (my suitemate, if I have one, has not come yet because the official semester doesn't start until October). She was nice enough, but she got onto my case about not taking the trash out. She told me in half-broken German that it smelled (she appears to be of Indian or close by ethnicity). Frau Cleaning Lady, I just got here a week ago. I don't even know exactly how the German trash system works yet -- you must surely know that there are a big pile of recycling and sorting rules and that it's confusing even for Germans sometimes.
Anyway, that's probably why I never step out while she's here at all any more. I know it wasn't a big deal, but I sort of have a subconscious bad impression.
I went out to the kitchen today a little while after she left. Hey, what's this?? Wait, Frau Cleaning Lady.... I don't leave huge, speckled streak marks on my stove top when I clean it. Come to think of it, it didn't have streak marks when I cleaned it and went to bed last night!
I have to admit that I take some pride in doing a better job than the cleaning lady in keeping the kitchen well, even if only in this aspect so far. And YES, this is probably one of the cleanest kitchens in the entire building, thanks very much, I'll be backstage to sign autographs after the show.
On a different note, last Friday, almost to the point of supernatural punctuality (I guess this is Germany), was the very last day it was decently warm/summer. The day after, it went, "BAM." Cold. Even the weather doesn't mess around here. It's here or it's not, and it's punctual about it! Not like weather in the confounded southern US.... where the best it can sometimes be described is a fickle [female hound]. US southern weather likes to loll and float about uselessly during periods that I fondly refer to as Wing, Spummer, Sall and Fwinter.
Also fortunately, I'm usually awake by the time she comes in, which tends to float around 7:45 AM. I'm sure most other students are not that lucky.
Once, I had the misfortune of having no idea why someone was in the kitchen and stepping out to investigate (my suitemate, if I have one, has not come yet because the official semester doesn't start until October). She was nice enough, but she got onto my case about not taking the trash out. She told me in half-broken German that it smelled (she appears to be of Indian or close by ethnicity). Frau Cleaning Lady, I just got here a week ago. I don't even know exactly how the German trash system works yet -- you must surely know that there are a big pile of recycling and sorting rules and that it's confusing even for Germans sometimes.
Anyway, that's probably why I never step out while she's here at all any more. I know it wasn't a big deal, but I sort of have a subconscious bad impression.
I went out to the kitchen today a little while after she left. Hey, what's this?? Wait, Frau Cleaning Lady.... I don't leave huge, speckled streak marks on my stove top when I clean it. Come to think of it, it didn't have streak marks when I cleaned it and went to bed last night!
I have to admit that I take some pride in doing a better job than the cleaning lady in keeping the kitchen well, even if only in this aspect so far. And YES, this is probably one of the cleanest kitchens in the entire building, thanks very much, I'll be backstage to sign autographs after the show.
On a different note, last Friday, almost to the point of supernatural punctuality (I guess this is Germany), was the very last day it was decently warm/summer. The day after, it went, "BAM." Cold. Even the weather doesn't mess around here. It's here or it's not, and it's punctual about it! Not like weather in the confounded southern US.... where the best it can sometimes be described is a fickle [female hound]. US southern weather likes to loll and float about uselessly during periods that I fondly refer to as Wing, Spummer, Sall and Fwinter.
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Evening on the Haidplatz: Der Rote Regenschirm
(Der Rote Regenschirm = "The Red Umbrella")
It started raining yesterday in the early evening. Water was pouring heavily from the sky, but I took my umbrella, left my room, and walked around the Altstadt ("Old City," the main are of Regensburg where I live). My pant legs were very quickly drenched across the front, but I knew it would happen and had put on light pants that would dry easily later. The rain was heavy enough that my shoulders were sometimes lightly misted.
I went straight down Vor der Grieb and strolled down Untere Bachgasse, and then turned left towards Neupfarrplatz, past hurried scurriers and small clusters of people huddled under awnings and building fronts, waiting for a better chance to brave the rain. I went up Residenzstrasse to Krauterermarkt and stared up at the Dom. Eventually, I made my way to the Haidplatz right by my dorm, and I walked around it and stood for a good long while. It was so very nice. My pants were drenched but I wasn't cold, and I had a very relaxing time staring around the Haidplatz with the rain coming down all around me.
I walked another round. Then the second time I came to Haidplatz, an old German gentleman turned and walked up to me as I stood there, just as he was going to pass me, as if he had changed his mind about something.
And later last night, he really did:
This is the e-mail he wrote to me with the pictures, as well as I can translate it:
Subject: Haidplatz in the Rain 12.09.08, 19:15
Admired Stranger,
Here are the photos that I shot of You from afar (from my daily usual spot) in this wet, rainy setting...
To me, it was such a familiar place, with so much water pouring from above, everything stone and stone-gray, and You standing completely alone, with a single stain of color, - the red umbrella...
You did what I in my life up til now rather always liked to do: to experience what experience was, - without regards to all the "hubbub" and bustling all around...
If you should ever go to Cesky Krumlov/the Czech Republic: that is for me each time an experience just exactly as the Haidplatz was for you today.
It gladdens me to see that you seem to feel such affection for my birth town (in spite of the rain)...
All the best! Chr. Beckers
It started raining yesterday in the early evening. Water was pouring heavily from the sky, but I took my umbrella, left my room, and walked around the Altstadt ("Old City," the main are of Regensburg where I live). My pant legs were very quickly drenched across the front, but I knew it would happen and had put on light pants that would dry easily later. The rain was heavy enough that my shoulders were sometimes lightly misted.
I went straight down Vor der Grieb and strolled down Untere Bachgasse, and then turned left towards Neupfarrplatz, past hurried scurriers and small clusters of people huddled under awnings and building fronts, waiting for a better chance to brave the rain. I went up Residenzstrasse to Krauterermarkt and stared up at the Dom. Eventually, I made my way to the Haidplatz right by my dorm, and I walked around it and stood for a good long while. It was so very nice. My pants were drenched but I wasn't cold, and I had a very relaxing time staring around the Haidplatz with the rain coming down all around me.
I walked another round. Then the second time I came to Haidplatz, an old German gentleman turned and walked up to me as I stood there, just as he was going to pass me, as if he had changed his mind about something.
(German)
"Servus!" He said to me.
"Servus!"
"I had made some pictures of You a little while ago, do You have an address to which I can send them?"
(*In German, you don't "take" pictures, you "make" them)
"Oh, really?"
"Yes, see?" He turns his digital camera on and angles the screen towards me as he scrolls through a handful of them. I can see the tiny image of myself against the street and buildings of the Haidplatz.
"Achso! Wie schön!"
"It was so nice and lovely, the little red umbrella against the gray background and buildings. I can send them to You, if you have an address."
"Yes, an e-mail address? I do have one. Um, I'm afraid I don't have any..."
"It's no problem, I have something to write on," He rummages through his shirt pockets and pulls out a pen and some business card. He hands them to me, and I jot down my e-mail.
I chuckled politely and said, "I'm sorry that I can't write it so well on here, it's a little bit difficult, so it might look messy."
"Oh, it's no problem, completely understandable in this situation."
"Here you go. Can You read that?"
He reads out my e-mail aloud in a German accent, then looks to me, and I nod and tell him that's exactly right. He smiled amiably and assured me that he would send them to me. I smiled amiably back and said, "Danke schön!" We bid each other a good evening and he left on his way down Vor der Grieb.
And later last night, he really did:
This is the e-mail he wrote to me with the pictures, as well as I can translate it:
Betreff: Haidplatz im Regen 12.09.08, 19:15
Verehrte Unbekannte,
hier die Fotos, die ich von Ihnen aus der Ferne (meinem täglichen Stammplatz ) in dieser nassen Atmosphäre "geschossen" habe...
Der mir so vertraute Platz, mit soviel Wasser von oben, alles Stein und steingrau, und Sie ganz solo, mit dem einzigen Farbfleck, - dem roten Regenschirm.....
Sie taten das, was ich in meinem bisherigen Leben bevorzugte: zu erleben, was zu erleben war, - ohne Rücksicht auf das "Drumherum"...
Wenn Sie jemals nach Cesky Krumlov / Tschechien kommen sollten: das ist für mich jedesmal ein Erlebnis, wie es offensichtlich für Sie heute der Haidplatz war.
Es freute mich, daß Sie für meine Geburtsstadt soviel Vorliebe ( =trotz Regen ) spüren...
Besten Gruß! Chr. Beckers
Subject: Haidplatz in the Rain 12.09.08, 19:15
Admired Stranger,
Here are the photos that I shot of You from afar (from my daily usual spot) in this wet, rainy setting...
To me, it was such a familiar place, with so much water pouring from above, everything stone and stone-gray, and You standing completely alone, with a single stain of color, - the red umbrella...
You did what I in my life up til now rather always liked to do: to experience what experience was, - without regards to all the "hubbub" and bustling all around...
If you should ever go to Cesky Krumlov/the Czech Republic: that is for me each time an experience just exactly as the Haidplatz was for you today.
It gladdens me to see that you seem to feel such affection for my birth town (in spite of the rain)...
All the best! Chr. Beckers
Friday, September 12, 2008
Fotos
Lots of pictures are up, with likely more to come as the days pass.
You can follow the link and see them all here:
Picasa Web Albums - Globejuggler
Comments welcome as usual. Enjoy.
You can follow the link and see them all here:
Comments welcome as usual. Enjoy.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Duschen
Thinking back on it, I wish I had remembered to take a picture of my old shower head. The shower heads here in my building are the kind that you can take off the wall and use as a sprayer.
On the first day I got here, Sanni showed me around a few places so that I could find what I might need. Then I went back to my room to take a shower, because traveling on three flights for two days is disgusting, among other things.
I tried to set it on its post. It was angled too far in, and sprayed towards the wall. So I gently pried it outward. It didn't want to. The shower head broke on my first day here. I tried my best to screw it back on, but the problem was that it was old, and the screw part was all but crumbling away.
The second day, it broke further yet, if you believe that's possible.
When you have problems, you write it on a little notebook downstairs for the Hausmeister (house master) to see. If it's a weekday, he'll get right to it pretty soon and come perform maintenance.
Since it broke for the second time on a Friday night, I showered with something more or less like a small garden hose for about 3-4 days.
I happen to find this hilarious.
(PS -- He did end up replacing the whole equipment, so fortunately, I do have a brand new, shiny shower head now.)
On the first day I got here, Sanni showed me around a few places so that I could find what I might need. Then I went back to my room to take a shower, because traveling on three flights for two days is disgusting, among other things.
I tried to set it on its post. It was angled too far in, and sprayed towards the wall. So I gently pried it outward. It didn't want to. The shower head broke on my first day here. I tried my best to screw it back on, but the problem was that it was old, and the screw part was all but crumbling away.
The second day, it broke further yet, if you believe that's possible.
When you have problems, you write it on a little notebook downstairs for the Hausmeister (house master) to see. If it's a weekday, he'll get right to it pretty soon and come perform maintenance.
Since it broke for the second time on a Friday night, I showered with something more or less like a small garden hose for about 3-4 days.
I happen to find this hilarious.
(PS -- He did end up replacing the whole equipment, so fortunately, I do have a brand new, shiny shower head now.)
Evening on the Haidplatz: Edelweiss
Two evenings ago, I finished eating dinner and went out to practice poi on the Haidplatz, which is a square that's literally about 30 meters from my dorm. It was a nice, clear evening, one of many that we usually have these days. There are Italian restaurants and historic buildings and people walking around the Haidplatz at practically all hours. It's especially nice because the restaurants still have their outdoor tables setup for the summer, and there are candles lit on each of them until about 22-23:00 every night.
At around 19:00, I was poi-ing in front of a closed shop window. One reason that I go outside is because I have no full-length mirror in my dorm, so I go outside and use the reflection in shop windows to practice instead. A guy with a backpack and cap came up to me, and I stopped when he stood there as people do when they mean to approach you. He jokingly struck a Kung Fu pose, which I promptly returned, because I don't know a bit of Kung Fu, but that's what I do. He said hello and told me how he liked what I was doing. Somehow he got started into some detailed explanations of the martial arts, his involvement in them, what he has seen people do in them, etc.
Unfortunately, my German capabilities only picked up, ohh..... 30% of what he was saying (I'm trying not to cry). And he was talking quickly and conversationally and with complicated vocabulary. And the only reason why he continued is that I have a slightly higher capability of reading out what the proper response needs to be from the other person's intonation and body language. Some advanced form of, "Uh-huh." He was pretty into it, so I didn't really want to stop him. I did at least pick up that he lives locally in Regensburg, and that he often attends a martial arts club/gym in town. He said I was welcome to check it out sometime.
Partway through, he handed me a €0.20 coin as a tip, I guess. (If I get better, I intend to put out a hat one day anyway). He continued for a little longer, and then we finally said, "Tschüss!" and he went on his way. I started poi-ing once more, but after a few minutes, he suddenly popped around the corner and came up to me again. He held something small up and told me he wanted to give this to me. It was an Edelweiss, pressed and preserved inside a glass and bronze necklace ornament.
He looked at me and said (still German), "This is an Edelweiss. It's a flower from around here. They are said to bring luck. I want to give this to you. So I wish the best of luck to you, and keep on doing what you do!"
There's nothing romantic that occurred here. He was just a guy who was inspired by something and felt moved to return something back. And I was just some person standing on the corner of the Haidplatz, looking at an Edelweiss in my hand and wondering what had really just happened.
At around 19:00, I was poi-ing in front of a closed shop window. One reason that I go outside is because I have no full-length mirror in my dorm, so I go outside and use the reflection in shop windows to practice instead. A guy with a backpack and cap came up to me, and I stopped when he stood there as people do when they mean to approach you. He jokingly struck a Kung Fu pose, which I promptly returned, because I don't know a bit of Kung Fu, but that's what I do. He said hello and told me how he liked what I was doing. Somehow he got started into some detailed explanations of the martial arts, his involvement in them, what he has seen people do in them, etc.
Unfortunately, my German capabilities only picked up, ohh..... 30% of what he was saying (I'm trying not to cry). And he was talking quickly and conversationally and with complicated vocabulary. And the only reason why he continued is that I have a slightly higher capability of reading out what the proper response needs to be from the other person's intonation and body language. Some advanced form of, "Uh-huh." He was pretty into it, so I didn't really want to stop him. I did at least pick up that he lives locally in Regensburg, and that he often attends a martial arts club/gym in town. He said I was welcome to check it out sometime.
Partway through, he handed me a €0.20 coin as a tip, I guess. (If I get better, I intend to put out a hat one day anyway). He continued for a little longer, and then we finally said, "Tschüss!" and he went on his way. I started poi-ing once more, but after a few minutes, he suddenly popped around the corner and came up to me again. He held something small up and told me he wanted to give this to me. It was an Edelweiss, pressed and preserved inside a glass and bronze necklace ornament.
He looked at me and said (still German), "This is an Edelweiss. It's a flower from around here. They are said to bring luck. I want to give this to you. So I wish the best of luck to you, and keep on doing what you do!"
There's nothing romantic that occurred here. He was just a guy who was inspired by something and felt moved to return something back. And I was just some person standing on the corner of the Haidplatz, looking at an Edelweiss in my hand and wondering what had really just happened.
Monday, September 08, 2008
*** Tips: Traffic ***
Here's how it goes with crossing the street:
America:
Overall, everybody here gets the program and knows how it all works, though you might see some crossings that make most Americans gasp and twitch. But you should just keep in mind that while it's less organized than in the States, it still works. You'll have to get over the fact that jay-walking is often normal walking here.
Please, people. Just be safe and smart when you're crossing the street in other countries, and do very much look both ways (twice).
America:
- You are a pedestrian.
- You have the right of way.
- Cars will stop for you.
- Carry on.
- You are a pedestrian.
- You do not have the right of way.
- Cars will not stop for you.
- You better darn well move out of the way unless you want the street sweepers to be peeling you off the road like a pancake.
Overall, everybody here gets the program and knows how it all works, though you might see some crossings that make most Americans gasp and twitch. But you should just keep in mind that while it's less organized than in the States, it still works. You'll have to get over the fact that jay-walking is often normal walking here.
Please, people. Just be safe and smart when you're crossing the street in other countries, and do very much look both ways (twice).
Mittagspause ("Midday Break")
If you've ever heard the stereotype about Europeans in certain countries, such as Spain, being laid back with time.... Well, it's completely true.
During this month-long intensive language course, we'll all have a 45 minute lunch break every day from 12:15-13:00 .
I usually eat lunch with Marie, a French girl, especially because we have class together, and are better friends with each other within the group. Every day, we typically find me walking at a steady but brisk pace towards the Mensa (the campus cafeteria) in order to make enough time to get there, eat at a comfortable speed, and back before class.
It would probably take me about 8-10 minutes to get to the Mensa, but usually we get there in 15.... because the Europeans I'm with are just not in a hurry. The daily scenario is that I'm a good few steps ahead and usually have to pause my pace every so often so that they can catch up (especially if they're talking).
Not surprisingly, the lack of the time invariably comes to them at a surprise by the time they've sat down with food at the Mensa. I'm done by the time they're halfway through, though we've all got perhaps 10 more minutes to both finish and get all the way back to class. They are shocked that so much time has already elapsed.
Marie tells me about the lunch breaks in France -- minimum of 1 hour, sometimes extending to around 2 hours. She finds it almost outrageous that we only have a 45 minutes lunch break. I don't find it outrageous, but I do find the whole thing kind of funny.
Oh. And let me mention the Spanish students:
Literally. That was an actual conversation we had. *LOL* And you can bet they won't be back until another 15 minutes, too. I also might mention that Germans are big on punctuality, and consider tardiness to be very rude, so we'll see if this gets interesting further into the month at all!...
45 minutes, though not a great deal of time, is still plenty for me. 45 minutes for the French and Spanish, at least (I should talk to some of the other students and see what they think), is apparently something like writing your doctoral thesis in a week.
During this month-long intensive language course, we'll all have a 45 minute lunch break every day from 12:15-13:00 .
I usually eat lunch with Marie, a French girl, especially because we have class together, and are better friends with each other within the group. Every day, we typically find me walking at a steady but brisk pace towards the Mensa (the campus cafeteria) in order to make enough time to get there, eat at a comfortable speed, and back before class.
It would probably take me about 8-10 minutes to get to the Mensa, but usually we get there in 15.... because the Europeans I'm with are just not in a hurry. The daily scenario is that I'm a good few steps ahead and usually have to pause my pace every so often so that they can catch up (especially if they're talking).
Not surprisingly, the lack of the time invariably comes to them at a surprise by the time they've sat down with food at the Mensa. I'm done by the time they're halfway through, though we've all got perhaps 10 more minutes to both finish and get all the way back to class. They are shocked that so much time has already elapsed.
Marie tells me about the lunch breaks in France -- minimum of 1 hour, sometimes extending to around 2 hours. She finds it almost outrageous that we only have a 45 minutes lunch break. I don't find it outrageous, but I do find the whole thing kind of funny.
Oh. And let me mention the Spanish students:
Spanish students: "So when you need to go back to class?"
Us: "About 15 more minutes. What about you?"
Spanish students: "Ohh... now. Class started one minute ago." *shrug*
Literally. That was an actual conversation we had. *LOL* And you can bet they won't be back until another 15 minutes, too. I also might mention that Germans are big on punctuality, and consider tardiness to be very rude, so we'll see if this gets interesting further into the month at all!...
45 minutes, though not a great deal of time, is still plenty for me. 45 minutes for the French and Spanish, at least (I should talk to some of the other students and see what they think), is apparently something like writing your doctoral thesis in a week.
Sunday, September 07, 2008
Minor Detail
Oh, by the way. Might I mention: ...
Yes. I live a 2-minute walk from the famously scenic and wonderfully beautiful Danube River. I don't mind you seething with jealousy.
Yes. I live a 2-minute walk from the famously scenic and wonderfully beautiful Danube River. I don't mind you seething with jealousy.
Saturday, September 06, 2008
(Table issues)
Somebody who knows their way around HTML please help me with getting rid of the dauntingly huge gap in the last post. I knew enough HTML to build the table, but apparently it still doesn't like me.
*cry* (T_T) *cry*
Of Foreign Lands and People
On Wednesday the 3rd, we had the welcome and intro day for all of the foreign exchange students studying at the Universität Regensburg this semester/year.
Each student stood up and introduced him- or herself at the start of the day. I jotted down each country of origin named as we went down the rows.
20 different countries were represented in that room! We number a total of about 70-80 individuals.
Here they are listed, roughly from the most members to the least:
.... Isn't this amazing??? I am loving it... Soooo many countries here, everybody is so different, but we're all here for, generally speaking, the exact same reason. It is so cool. I don't think I've ever been in the same room with so many nationalities at once. (And no, being American and saying, "Oh, I'm part 15-different-nationalities, just on my mother's side" does not count. You don't live a lifestyle like those nationalities. You are just American. Get over yourself.)
*sigh*. It's just so cool to be here! And I am making friends with all of these people from all over the globe! And I get to hear them speaking their native languages to each other here and there between snippets of German! And it's all just so very interesting!
(Note: "Of Foreign Lands and People" is a real piece written by German composer Robert Schumann, from his Op. 15 collection entitled "Kinderszenen," which translates to "Scenes of Childhood."
You can hear "Of Foreign Lands and People" here: Martha Argerich plays Schumann's Kinderszenen Op. 15. It's the first one you hear.)
Each student stood up and introduced him- or herself at the start of the day. I jotted down each country of origin named as we went down the rows.
20 different countries were represented in that room! We number a total of about 70-80 individuals.
Here they are listed, roughly from the most members to the least:
| Country | Approx. members | Country (1 member each) |
| Turkey | 6 | Chile |
| Russia | 5-6 | China (Hong Kong) |
| Czech Republic | 3-4 | Korea |
| Poland | 4-5 | Latvia |
| France | 4 | Mexico |
| Spain | 3-5 | Slovenia |
| England | 2-3 | Ukraine |
| Japan | 3 | Venezuela |
| Italy | 2 | Wales |
| Ireland | 2 | (United States) |
| Slovakia | 2 | (Germany) |
.... Isn't this amazing??? I am loving it... Soooo many countries here, everybody is so different, but we're all here for, generally speaking, the exact same reason. It is so cool. I don't think I've ever been in the same room with so many nationalities at once. (And no, being American and saying, "Oh, I'm part 15-different-nationalities, just on my mother's side" does not count. You don't live a lifestyle like those nationalities. You are just American. Get over yourself.)
*sigh*. It's just so cool to be here! And I am making friends with all of these people from all over the globe! And I get to hear them speaking their native languages to each other here and there between snippets of German! And it's all just so very interesting!
(Note: "Of Foreign Lands and People" is a real piece written by German composer Robert Schumann, from his Op. 15 collection entitled "Kinderszenen," which translates to "Scenes of Childhood."
You can hear "Of Foreign Lands and People" here: Martha Argerich plays Schumann's Kinderszenen Op. 15. It's the first one you hear.)
Thursday, September 04, 2008
Deu-rish
From starting the first day of the month-long intensive German course today, I have to say one thing...
German spoken with a very heavy Irish accent is just about one of the most freaking remarkable linguistic phenomenons I have had the complete pleasure and amusement to hear.
I have absolutely no intention of poking fun at the Irish girl in my level class. Just for the record, however, I'm considerably glad that I happen to sit facing away from her, because every time she had to read aloud in German today, I could not keep a poker face if my life depended on it. And she has a very strong accent.
Oh, how I wish you could only hear! It's fascinating.
German spoken with a very heavy Irish accent is just about one of the most freaking remarkable linguistic phenomenons I have had the complete pleasure and amusement to hear.
I have absolutely no intention of poking fun at the Irish girl in my level class. Just for the record, however, I'm considerably glad that I happen to sit facing away from her, because every time she had to read aloud in German today, I could not keep a poker face if my life depended on it. And she has a very strong accent.
Oh, how I wish you could only hear! It's fascinating.
Wednesday, September 03, 2008
*** Tips: Tipping ***
Here in Germany, there isn't always a usual percentage for tipping, per se. But it goes something like this, from what I gather. If you order, say, just a drink at a restaurant for €2.60, you would probably round it up to €3.00, hand it to the waiter/ess, and tell them, "Das ist gut." (Translated: "That's good/fine.") And it will mean they can keep the change as tip. (Fun side note: If you're in Bavaria, "Passt scho'!" works too! Okay, I know most of you wouldn't care, but I happen to love German dialects.)
Another example. If you order a meal at a restaurant that comes out to about €18.30, you would probably round the total up to €20.00 for the tipping, and do the same, "Das ist gut," procedure.
Basically, think of a very fuzzy 15% or so of the total, round up to the nearest Euro or half Euro (half Euro sometimes for those smaller sums where it wouldn't make sense to pay all the way to the next Euro, like a coffee or something), and tell the waiter/ess to keep the change. And don't leave without tipping at restaurants. In Germany, at least, you would leave a tip just as you would in the U.S. Equally so, leaving no tip means you were completely unsatisfied with the service.
Savvy on restaurant tipping now?
(Side note: Is it weird/strange that when I briefly proofread back over this post, all of it came out precisely in the German accent of one of our tutors/guides in my head??? I have been listening to the tutors and their welcome instructions for far too much today... It sounds EXACTLY like a broken English German accent and nothing else.)
Another example. If you order a meal at a restaurant that comes out to about €18.30, you would probably round the total up to €20.00 for the tipping, and do the same, "Das ist gut," procedure.
Basically, think of a very fuzzy 15% or so of the total, round up to the nearest Euro or half Euro (half Euro sometimes for those smaller sums where it wouldn't make sense to pay all the way to the next Euro, like a coffee or something), and tell the waiter/ess to keep the change. And don't leave without tipping at restaurants. In Germany, at least, you would leave a tip just as you would in the U.S. Equally so, leaving no tip means you were completely unsatisfied with the service.
Savvy on restaurant tipping now?
(Side note: Is it weird/strange that when I briefly proofread back over this post, all of it came out precisely in the German accent of one of our tutors/guides in my head??? I have been listening to the tutors and their welcome instructions for far too much today... It sounds EXACTLY like a broken English German accent and nothing else.)
Monday, September 01, 2008
Hopsity-hopsity
Where I am is the German state of Bavaria. It's the southeast-most and largest state in the country, and it's largely made up of simply gorgeous countryside.
This region, like many other places in Germany, is also very well-known for its beer. (As it happens, I don't drink, which I happen to like that way, but which many people consider something of a crying shame). And one of the main ingredients needed for that good German beer are hops.
While I had conversation with the driver (who had very limited English, so this was entirely in German), he explained to me that this area that we were driving through was one of the most important places in the country -- or even the world -- for the hops crops. Currently we're right at the tail end of the hops season, so they'll all dry out soon and return next spring around May.
We passed field after field after field after field of hops. And then some more. And then some corn fields, followed immediately by more hops fields.
You certainly don't really see this in the States, so I was kind of fascinated... And the plants grow very tall. I continuously felt the urge inside to run through these "hops forests" or play Hide-and-Seek or something. Kind of the feeling I might get going through a quietly shady bamboo forest grown really high overhead. Anyway, there's hops for you! That's where your beer starts out.
This region, like many other places in Germany, is also very well-known for its beer. (As it happens, I don't drink, which I happen to like that way, but which many people consider something of a crying shame). And one of the main ingredients needed for that good German beer are hops.
While I had conversation with the driver (who had very limited English, so this was entirely in German), he explained to me that this area that we were driving through was one of the most important places in the country -- or even the world -- for the hops crops. Currently we're right at the tail end of the hops season, so they'll all dry out soon and return next spring around May.
We passed field after field after field after field of hops. And then some more. And then some corn fields, followed immediately by more hops fields.
You certainly don't really see this in the States, so I was kind of fascinated... And the plants grow very tall. I continuously felt the urge inside to run through these "hops forests" or play Hide-and-Seek or something. Kind of the feeling I might get going through a quietly shady bamboo forest grown really high overhead. Anyway, there's hops for you! That's where your beer starts out.
*** Tip: Regensburg Shuttle ***
*** Tip for future Vandy-in-Germany students ***:
Regensburg has no airport. If you come through Munich, the absolute easiest way to get to Regensburg is through the www.airportliner.com service. Just book your shuttle online at least 3 days in advance. You pay the driver once you get there, and he takes you directly to your dorm address (SUPER CONVENIENT). If your flight's late, they see it on the computer, and you'll always still be able to get a ride. It's slightly more expensive than the train, but it's only a fraction of the hassle of the train + stations + luggage + schedules + tickets + exhaustion + Ican'tevenimaginewhat. It's well worth the extra Euros.
Regensburg has no airport. If you come through Munich, the absolute easiest way to get to Regensburg is through the www.airportliner.com service. Just book your shuttle online at least 3 days in advance. You pay the driver once you get there, and he takes you directly to your dorm address (SUPER CONVENIENT). If your flight's late, they see it on the computer, and you'll always still be able to get a ride. It's slightly more expensive than the train, but it's only a fraction of the hassle of the train + stations + luggage + schedules + tickets + exhaustion + Ican'tevenimaginewhat. It's well worth the extra Euros.
Shuttle: Munich to Regensburg!
Upon arrival in Munich, I was so worn out that lugging my 60+ lbs. of luggage behind me and navigating my way through the giant airport using only German to locate both an exchange station and the shuttle meeting point seemed like swimming down the length of the Amazon with a dead badger tied to my waist.
BUT I MADE IT. Despite feeling lost, lonely, helpless, weak, tired, and an overwhelming feeling of, "Quoi???," I made it. I exchanged enough to pay for the shuttle (€35) and finally found the shuttle meeting point. I was probably some 45 minutes late, with slight arrival delay and lost wandering calculated in.
The shuttle takes up to 6 people at a time in a van. So get this. Among the other passengers is a young German couple traveling home together, probably students. His girlfriend is next to him, I already made him and the entire group enormously late, I nearly got on before the driver said it was okay to, yet this guy politely opens the front door for me when we're all ready to board. That's manners. All I am is some confused foreign idiot tripping over the native language like a frog on stilts who delayed their trip going home by nearly an hour. And he still made sure to get the door for me and see that I was seated.
I just thought that was nice. There's a number of you boy-people out there who could definitely pick up something good from this.
BUT I MADE IT. Despite feeling lost, lonely, helpless, weak, tired, and an overwhelming feeling of, "Quoi???," I made it. I exchanged enough to pay for the shuttle (€35) and finally found the shuttle meeting point. I was probably some 45 minutes late, with slight arrival delay and lost wandering calculated in.
The shuttle takes up to 6 people at a time in a van. So get this. Among the other passengers is a young German couple traveling home together, probably students. His girlfriend is next to him, I already made him and the entire group enormously late, I nearly got on before the driver said it was okay to, yet this guy politely opens the front door for me when we're all ready to board. That's manners. All I am is some confused foreign idiot tripping over the native language like a frog on stilts who delayed their trip going home by nearly an hour. And he still made sure to get the door for me and see that I was seated.
I just thought that was nice. There's a number of you boy-people out there who could definitely pick up something good from this.
Toto... what the hell?
For one short, idiot moment (I was on the verge of collapsing from exhaustion, cut me some slack), I looked at this sign on the seat in front of me and tried to figure it out...
I'm on a Dutch plane. I personally only know two people who can speak Dutch. One is Dutch, one learned Dutch, and I am neither of them.
Then glancing out my window, I had to do a double take as I watched the next busload of people disembark to board our plane.
These are the airport buses that take people out to the plane. When the bus doors open to let people get off, the entire bus tips to that side. My brain was half dead, and the sight of a bus cheerily leaning over and dumping passengers out before righting itself back up was a little surprising.
I'm on a Dutch plane. I personally only know two people who can speak Dutch. One is Dutch, one learned Dutch, and I am neither of them.
Then glancing out my window, I had to do a double take as I watched the next busload of people disembark to board our plane.
These are the airport buses that take people out to the plane. When the bus doors open to let people get off, the entire bus tips to that side. My brain was half dead, and the sight of a bus cheerily leaning over and dumping passengers out before righting itself back up was a little surprising.
Flying: Amsterdam to Munich
Take your pic(k):
Welcome to Amsterdam!
OR
Welcome to Amsterdam!!
I never realized how incredible an overcast sky looks from above the clouds instead of below. You know what it was looked like? It looked like a vast arctic desert in complete calm, with no winds, and the summer season sun overhead. It felt like endless miles of snowdrifts. It felt like I could see a polar bear at any moment romp out from behind a hill of snow. But it was clouds.
Welcome to Amsterdam!
OR
Welcome to Amsterdam!!
I never realized how incredible an overcast sky looks from above the clouds instead of below. You know what it was looked like? It looked like a vast arctic desert in complete calm, with no winds, and the summer season sun overhead. It felt like endless miles of snowdrifts. It felt like I could see a polar bear at any moment romp out from behind a hill of snow. But it was clouds.
Flying: Home to Detroit to Amsterdam
First of all, let this be a considerable warning to all of you who may ever need to fly up to 3 or more planes back-to-back: IT IS A MOST UNFORTUNATE CIRCUMSTANCE.
Flight #1 up to Detroit was okay. Domestic flight, about two hours, people do that all the time, not a big deal.
The Detroit airport is pretty nifty, let me tell you. It has a variety of points of interest... such as the trippy statue-like fountain, the trippy long, psychedelically-colored underground tunnel that connects to the international concourse and loudly hums ambient sounds at you while you feel like you're in a subway in Wonderland, and the indoor monorail, which ends up being kind of trippy in itself. Everyone walking around in the airport blinks and looks up when they hear a quiet whooshing noise, only to discover that there's a bloody full-sized modern train floating by just overhead. I'd post pictures of all of these, but they'll be some video that I took.
Then comes the international Flight #2. As I sit at the gate to Amsterdam, I look around and start playing a game with myself, trying to figure out who is American and who isn't. You know you're getting close to international travel when the people boarding the next flight with you are no longer largely from the U.S.
Summary of the international flight: Listened to a German family of two parents and three kids talking to each other, played with the personal TV screen, watched The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian (!) in English, watched 101 Dalmations in German, miserably failed multiple attempts to get comfortable sleep, and tried not to curl into a ball in the middle of the aisle when the descent into Amsterdam made my right ear feel like it was going to burst with the enormous pressure and slather the German man next to me in brain jam.
But wow, that all sounds so very negative. It really wasn't terrible. I was just really tired when I finally got off in Amsterdam. This was probably due to several factors: I had gotten very little sleep in the past few days, sleep on the flight didn't really happen, and it was not only about 5:40 AM in Amsterdam when I got there, but in US Central time, that's close to when I would be getting ready to go to bed.
Flight #1 up to Detroit was okay. Domestic flight, about two hours, people do that all the time, not a big deal.
The Detroit airport is pretty nifty, let me tell you. It has a variety of points of interest... such as the trippy statue-like fountain, the trippy long, psychedelically-colored underground tunnel that connects to the international concourse and loudly hums ambient sounds at you while you feel like you're in a subway in Wonderland, and the indoor monorail, which ends up being kind of trippy in itself. Everyone walking around in the airport blinks and looks up when they hear a quiet whooshing noise, only to discover that there's a bloody full-sized modern train floating by just overhead. I'd post pictures of all of these, but they'll be some video that I took.
Then comes the international Flight #2. As I sit at the gate to Amsterdam, I look around and start playing a game with myself, trying to figure out who is American and who isn't. You know you're getting close to international travel when the people boarding the next flight with you are no longer largely from the U.S.
Summary of the international flight: Listened to a German family of two parents and three kids talking to each other, played with the personal TV screen, watched The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian (!) in English, watched 101 Dalmations in German, miserably failed multiple attempts to get comfortable sleep, and tried not to curl into a ball in the middle of the aisle when the descent into Amsterdam made my right ear feel like it was going to burst with the enormous pressure and slather the German man next to me in brain jam.
But wow, that all sounds so very negative. It really wasn't terrible. I was just really tired when I finally got off in Amsterdam. This was probably due to several factors: I had gotten very little sleep in the past few days, sleep on the flight didn't really happen, and it was not only about 5:40 AM in Amsterdam when I got there, but in US Central time, that's close to when I would be getting ready to go to bed.
Touchdown
Yes, I finally made it in one [hugely exhausted] piece, and on the right day. However, I only just now -- since about 8 minutes ago -- got internet access in my room.
Where to start... Starting is nigh impossible at the moment. There have probably been things to tell about since the moment I woke up on departure morning.
Fortunately, I've been taking both pictures and notes, so not too much is lost. If you're going on any kind of long-ish trip, I definitely recommend taking notes along the way, even if they're super short. When you look back on them, you will invariably appreciate them. There are things that you think you will remember, until you realize two hours later that they've already flown out of your head.
So here we go!
Where to start... Starting is nigh impossible at the moment. There have probably been things to tell about since the moment I woke up on departure morning.
Fortunately, I've been taking both pictures and notes, so not too much is lost. If you're going on any kind of long-ish trip, I definitely recommend taking notes along the way, even if they're super short. When you look back on them, you will invariably appreciate them. There are things that you think you will remember, until you realize two hours later that they've already flown out of your head.
So here we go!
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