Slap in the Face

OHMYGOD it will be November on Saturday.

Altmodische Musik

("Outdated Music")

Conversation from the Begrüßungsparty.
S (German friend) is reading the mixed CD for the party music:

Me: "Is that the tracklist for the entire evening?"
S: "Yep. It seems like there's quite a bit of older pop music on here, actually..."
Me: "What kind of music do you like to listen to anyway?"
S: "Ohhh, even older stuff. I'm so old-fashioned. You'd probably laugh."
Me: "For exaaample?"
S: "Haha, The Beatles or something. Pink Floyd... Oh, The Who!... and..." (+ few more that I don't remember)
Me: "That's not that bad!"
S: "Haha, I thought you or people in your general age group might probably think that was old-fashioned of me."
Me: "Oh S, I wouldn't worry about what I might think. Most of the music that I listen to is far older. I mean, when I say I might listen to music from the 60's, it's more like.... the 1860's."

Proud to Be An American

So this is somewhat interesting, I find.

I have a friend from Mexico among the 60-some-odd students from other countries that I know. There was a Begrüßungsparty (welcome party) last night for all of the exchange students (because we're finally all here), and we were both talking with some students from Germany and Slovakia. At some time, we hit the topic of America and being American.

The thing is, he claims to be American, too. I said, "Oskar, what are you talking about?" He basically says, "Hey, we consider that America [the Americas]. You, you are from the United States."

Ahhh... This is enlightening to me, even if only in a very small way. I also got that slight nagging feeling of an Ignorant American moment. Or rather, Ignorant "American." (Have I ever mentioned my vexation at the fact that most of the US population believes that they are the only ones on the planet, or at least that they're the only modern civilization and the rest of the planet is still crawling around on their knuckles and eating bugs from rotting logs...)

I'm not quite sure if that's just his mentality, or if it's just Mexico (we should ask some Canadians...), or even if he was just flat out joking with me (which I highly doubt). But there's that as a point of interest.

Are You My Mother?

I must always laugh when children in public areas get distracted and mistake strangers for their own parents or older siblings, taking hold of their hands absent-mindedly, only to look up and realize with frozen horror that they have been tagging along with a completely strange and unfamiliar face that is not Mommy.

I was at the library today, glancing around and looking at DVDs in the children's section, just to see what was there. I skimmed down the rows at about eye level, and meanwhile passed a little German boy of about seven or eight, who was also skimming at his respective eye level while his mother and brother were browsing nearby. He plucked a movie off the shelf and began jabbering an explanation of it just as I stood behind him looking over his head. He was still conversationally reading the back of the box out loud to me when he turned to show it to me, and looked up.

I smiled broadly and said, "Sorry, what was that?"

He blinked and quickly glanced around after a stunned moment. Then he looked back up, grinned sheepishly, and quietly mumbled, ".. Oh.* " I grinned back. He turned around with a little blush and stuck the movie back onto the shelf.

I found what I wanted, checked out my books, and left the library still grinning.

*(For those of you who speak German, it was, ".. Achso." Which just amuses me tenfold.)

Rubik was a Hungarian from Budapest

Suddenly this morning, I miss my Rubik's Cube. I don't really know why.
Unfortunately I haven't seen one here yet, though.



On second thought, I wonder if Selmair has them. That's a delightful toy store about a 2-minute stroll from my dorm (hurrah!), and I'm particularly fond of it because they have a whole corner of the store...

From Beautiful Regensburg!

... devoted entirely to juggling equipment.
(*swooon*)

Ups and Downs

Recently I noticed that one pair of my jeans might have gotten a bit looser. A little less snug than they used to be. Maybe it's just me.

Or maybe I've even lost some weight since I've been here, through a combination of different little things here and there. Walking more, cycling more, eating less... and climbing up and down a stairwell of 60 some-odd stairs day in and day out.

(Let's not forget the days when I inadvertently add 20 or 40 more every once in a while by forgetting things in my room :D . Oh! Just today, I was cooking in the kitchen, and said bye to my German suitemate as she headed out the door to the gym. Several minutes later, she comes back through the door laughing and says to me, "Dangit! I was all the way downstairs already! And then I opened the front door and realized that it was still a lot colder than I thought it was! I have to get my jacket now.")

From Living in Regensburg

I always feel bad for the occasional friends who come over, though. We have no elevator in the student residence, and while I myself have become used to it now, they're inevitably a little out of breath by the time they get up here, and there's unfortunately nothing I can do. (The Chinese host nature in me is horrified.)

Numb3rs - Continued

On another note, I won't try to assume claims based on mere theory here, but I very strongly believe that the stereotypical Chinese reputation for excellence in mathematics has some sort of connection with the efficiency of the numbering system. It is simple and directly to-the-point.

In another example, when Chinese children learn their multiplication tables in school, it does not translate to "5 times 8 is 40," but rather "5-8-is-40," and often simply even "5-8-40." Not only that, but with the typical system, there is also an inherent rhythm that is difficult to understand as someone who has not learned Chinese numbers, but has an almost unstoppably smooth and unbroken flow to it. So if you can imagine reciting the entire multiplication table in the format of, "2-4-is-8, 3-4-12, 4-4-16, 4-5-20, 4-6-24...," it's no wonder you would pick up a natural speed. And not only would you be faster, but you would have already raised the standard speed from, say, multiplication recitation in many other languages.

And there's just my two cents on counting in languages.

Numb3rs

(No, not the television series. Sorry, Liz.)

I like things to be practical. Therefore, there are numbering systems in a few languages that do not sit well with me. Allow me to demonstrate.

Chinese Numbers: Why I Love Them

Numbers	Word in language	English Translation
1-10	yi 一； er 二; san 三; si 四; wu 五; liu 六; qi 七; ba 八; jiu 九; shi 十	(normal basic)
11; 12; 13; 14;...	Shi-yi; Shi-er; Shi-san;... (十一； 十二； 十三； 十四;...)	"ten one; ten two; ten three;..."
60; 70; 80; 90	liu-shi; qi-shi; ba-shi; jiu-shi (六十； 七十； 八十； 九十)	"seven-ten; eight-ten; nine-ten"
71; 81; 91	qi-shi-yi; ba-shi-yi; jiu-shi-yi (七十一； 八十一； 九十一)	"seven-ten one; eight-ten one; nine-ten one"

Now then. You might not necessarily be used to this system, but to me, it is all-around practical - and most importantly, very consistent.

German Numbers: Why I Don't Like Them

Numbers	Word in language	English Translation
1-10	eins; zwei; drei; vier; fünf; sechs; sieben; acht; neun; zehn	(normal basic)
11; 12; 13; 14;...	elf; zwölf; dreizehn; vierzehn;...	"eleven; twelve; three-ten; four-ten;...
60; 70; 80; 90	sechzig; siebzig; achtzig; neunzig	"sixty; seventy; eighty; ninety"
61; 71; 81; 91	einundsechzig; einundsiebzig; einundachtzig; einundneunzig	"oneandsixty; oneandseventy; oneandeighty; oneandninety"

No. This is not nearly as nice. There is not only some lack of inconsistency, but it is unwieldly. I mean, sometimes I feel like it's just an annoyance to tell someone that I've got zweiundzwanzig ("twoandtwenty") magical carrots or something. Sure, I and the rest of the world's German speakers are used to it by now, but compared to Chinese numbering, for example, this is definitely more unwieldly.


French Numbers: Why I Hate Them

Numbers	Word in language	English Translation
1-10	un; deux; trois; quatre; cinq; six; sept; huit; neuf; dix	(normal basic)
11; 12; 13; 14;...	onze; douze; treize; quatorze;...	"eleven; twelve; thirteen; fourteen;..."
*17; 18; 19	dix-sept; dix-huit; dix-neuf	Wait a moment. What the hell is this?? Why did we just switch formats??
*20; 21; 22; 23	vingt; vingt et un; vingt-deux; vingt-trois	Okay... so this is "twenty; twenty and one; twenty-two; twenty-three..." ... Why???
60; 70; 80; 90	soixante; soixante-dix; quatre-vingts; quatre-vingt-dix	"sixty; sixty-ten; sixty-twenty; four-twenty; four-twenty-ten" WHY, French people?? Why would you do this?!
*71; 72; 73	soixante et onze; soixante-douze; souixante-treize	"sixty and eleven; sixty-twelve; sixty-thirteen" ?!?
81; 82; 91	quatre-vingt-un; quatre-vingt-deux; quatre-vingt-onze	"four-twenty-one; four-twenty-two; four-twenty-eleven" #@&%^%Q&%^!%#!?!?!

Inefficiency. It makes me writhe uncomfortably in my seat. Put aside the fact that the speakers are all "used to it by now." Just look at the construction of the numbering system on its own. I do not understand why. Why, French people?? Just who was it out of your whole French population who decided this was a good idea??

Continuing points in the next post.

Schlösser

("Castles")

Today we went to Castles Hohenschwangau and Neuschwanstein in Schwangau, in the very south of Germany and a stone's throw from the Austria border.

Pictures inside the castles are not allowed, but I just want to say that today, I beheld 100+ year old BREAD in Castle Neuschwanstein... in a box... on a platter with the year 189- [something] on it... or in other words, the year that the bread loaf was baked and presented to a prince for his birthday...

... That's just odd. Don't do that. Be sure to clean out your pantries when the proper time calls for such.

From Hohenschwangau, Neuschwanstein

I've only put up a handful of pictures from today's excursion, but at any rate, they're up to see now. By the way, aerial shots of the castles are stunning, but obviously, I can't provide you with those personally. You have the internet, though, so you ought to look some up if you would like to have a look.

Baby Talk

You know what's an unexpectedly difficult thing to do in a foreign language?

Talk to babies and children. Or even pets.

Aha, don't roll your eyes at me! You may be thinking, "My dear, what can you possibly mean? They are children. Their vocabulary and speech is supposed to be the most elementary among normal human beings. Speaking to children should be the most simple of colloquial endea--"

NEIN.

This is because in every language, there are what linguists call "registers." I should have paid more attention in the linguistics class I took last year, but here's more or less the scoop. As far as I know, a register is something like a level of language that is changed depending on what the social situation at the moment calls for. For example, you would say, "Hey, what's up?" to your friends, but not to your grandmother, or to your interviewer at an interview for a corporate job. These situations use different registers.

Going back to the topic, it is remarkably difficult to talk to children in a language that you are still learning (or at least keep them amused/not confused about the fact that you don't seem to know how to talk) because of the register that most people use specifically for children.

People like me, of course, are used to the normal registers that one would use in shops, asking questions from people on the street, and at the university.

In a nutshell, there are 6-year-olds here that I have a harder time understanding than some German professors.

Contact in Zwiebelmarkt

As I mentioned, I was in the cities of Erfurt and Weimar this weekend, which are not far from each other and lie around central Germany.

Weimar is famous for the Zwiebelmarkt, or "Onion Market." It's a big street festival that's held every year, this year being Zwiebelmarkt #355. The most common wares at the hundreds of stands lining the streets are, of course, food and Zwiebeln -- onions.


It's all very autumnal and aesthetically appealing and cute. In addition to sprigs and sprigs of onions, there are also other onion-based goods, like onion marmalade/jelly (I kid you not. But I heard it was actually rather good).

Later in the afternoon, I split off from our small group and took to wandering the Zwiebelmarkt streets until dinner. Lo and behold, I found a fellow contact juggler. I was excited.

From Erfurt, Weimar, and Buchenwald

I watched him for a while... most probably because I suddenly realized that I can do exactly what he does. And... he was earning oolongs per hour just performing simple contact juggling! (You have to remember -- The €1 and €2 are coins here, so... Seeing as it's easier to toss coins, AND the Euro is worth more, there is obvious appeal for me here...)

After about a whole hour of watching what he does to earn street performance money, I went up to him when he took a break and swapped e-mails with him so that I could send him these pictures that I took of him. At first, I didn't talk, because he didn't talk in his performance, so I thought I'd follow suit.

C-juggler: "Er, you speak English?"
Me: "Of course. English and German, both."

I explained sending the pictures to him and we swapped e-mails.

C-juggler: "So you can do some of this, too?"
Me: "Yes, a little, though I'm better at juggling and poi. You know what I'm talking about?"
C-juggler: "Ah, yeah, with these things on strings..."
Me: "Exactly."
C-juggler: "Do you live here?"
Me: "No, I'm from the States. I'm an exchange student."
C-juggler: "Aha. But are you staying in Weimar?"
Me: "No, I'm staying in Regensburg. By the way, how often is it that you come here, to Zwiebelmarkt, for example, to street perform?"
C-juggler: "Well, I live here in Weimar, you see. Oh, but I'm not from Weimar originally, I just live here now. I'm actually from Mexico."

Wow. You don't see many Mexicans in Germany. Much less Mexicans swathed in desert-dune cloth and chalky costume make-up who are standing on boxes and contact juggling in the street.

He smiled and said farewell as I wished him luck and went back to the youth hostel. I sent him the photos I took when I got back to Regensburg.

Foto Zahl

("Photo Count")

Hm. I just backed up all of my Germany photos onto my external harddrive.

As of the count today, I've apparently taken over 1,500 by now.
(Speaking of which, you can find the primary selection of them on the link to the Picasa album on the right blog menu.) -->

Buchenwald Concentration Camp

I just got back from a weekend in Erfurt and Weimar. Today, as our last stop, we visited the historical Buchenwald concentration camp, located 8 km from Weimar.

I simply find it so ironic, because walking through Buchenwald in the autumn is almost dreamily beautiful. It is quiet, nearly silent except for the tread of visitors on the gravel paths, and sunshine in good weather will turn the surrounding woods absolutely brilliant with gold.

From Erfurt, Weimar, and Buchenwald

Yet Buchenwald is steeped in so much unspeakably horrendous history, as with the unfortunately many other concentration camps and other historical sites associated with the second world war (or as many other wars as you can name...) . There was so much suffering, I can not even imagine. I can't even describe, with or without words.

Today, while the rest of our group wandered off to look around some more before our bus ride back, I went to the center of the main prisoner camp, where it is now flat, and only black gravel in wooden frames outline where there were once several dozen barracks holding inmates hollow with despair. I stood where literally thousands of dying bodies and walking corpses passed by for month after hopeless, tragic month and forgot what it was like to be human...


And I cried and cried...


... and cried.

*Sproing*

I've lost a tiny, 2cm long metal spring.

It's somewhere in my room.

You are more than welcome to come over and help me find it.

(But please bring your own snack and drinks).

Zwei Kugeln Gelato

("Two-Scoop Gelato")

I'm feeling down. I wish someone could go out for some gelato with me right now!!! Soooo many gelaterias around Regensburg... But I don't feel that it would help me right now to go alone.

Yet I hear the gelato! It's calling my naaaaame.....

Sorry. I'm in an odd and not particularly dandy mood. Maybe I'll just go down to the River Regen again and feed expired Müsli to the Enten ("ducks").

Heimweh

("Homesickness")

Since I've been here, a few different people that I've met have asked me if I've gotten homesick at all.

My answer is no.

False Friends

Heads up, English speakers. "Der Winter," "die Maus" and "das Bier" may be easy English-German cognates, but the word "das Gift" in German means "poison, toxic, venom" .

Oktoberfest: Die Herzen

("Hearts")

While you've probably noticed that I have no few gripes about Oktoberfest, there were at least portions of my trip to München that weekend that were not nearly so bad.

On the train ride there, it was somewhat full, as most transportation to Munich is during Oktoberfest. Three of us caught sight of three seats in the same quadra-set (what do you call 4 seats on a train that are facing each other anyway...?) as an old German lady, and we asked her, "Entschuldigung, sind diese noch frei?" ("Excuse me, are these still free?"). She said, "Natürlich!" ("Of course!") and we sat down.

I sat right next to her, and we ended up having some great and interesting conversation. She was poking a needle through a little red paperboard heart and threading some plastic orange string in a bed stitch around the border. We asked her what she was doing.

The story is that this unassuming old lady is actually an enthusiastic traveler. She's been all over different continents, and wings it completely on her own. What she was making was small, simple heart ornaments, and what she does is give them to the people she meets all over the world.

"I first got the idea in Tanzania, you see. I worked there in a program for a while with lots of children. At the end, I was going to leave soon, and I wracked my brain for something that I could give them as gifts. Then, this came to me, and I made a little heart for each of them. They took a photo, and each child had a little heart pinned to his or her chest. It was so lovely!

Her hearts are now all over the world. She has given them away in countless places she has been, from Reykjavik, to Tanzania, to Beijing.

Me: "Wow! That's so inspiring, and it's wonderful that you've done this.
Old woman: "Yes, and no one else in the world does this. I am the only one who makes such hearts!"

She then tied green ribbon at the top of three hearts and handed one new heart to each of us. We thanked her and she smiled.

Me: "Do you have any idea at all how many you've made by now? Dozens? Hundreds?"
Old woman: "Ohh, my... I almost couldn't even say. I've long since lost count. But I would honestly have to say, at least in the thousands by now. I make them constantly. I make them wherever I go, and pass the time with them. And then I give them to people."

Thousands of these little hearts all around the world!

From Oktoberfest, München

We asked her about the materials she used. She buys some of the same cardstock every time -- red on one side, white on the other. The ribbon is also simple and inexpensive. The string is the best part. What she does is collect and keep those mesh sacks that hold apples or potatoes when you buy them in the supermarket. She then takes them apart and uses the bright orange fibers as her thread. (See the orange sack in the back of the picture.)

Old woman: "Sometimes people think I'm just crazy. Why do you want to collect such junk as that? Ah, but I put it to good use. See? Why create more trash instead of re-using it to make things that bring you happiness?

It's completely inexpensive, easy to carry around, good for a hobby, and is special."

My friend asked her if she made any other shapes besides hearts. She said no, but also explained a belief of hers.

"You know, I believe that emotion really does stem from the heart. It is not in your head, as people say. Think about this now... When you are upset... when something angers you and you get in an uproar!" She dramatically patted the area over her heart. "Your heart -- it begins to flutter and beat faster. And when something excites you, your heart reacts faster. And when you are sad, you feel as if the pain is in your heart."

She made a funny face, as if mimicking someone thinking really hard. "Yes, your head, it's good for all your logic, your thoughts, your reasoning, 'Why this, why that.'" But your heart. I believe it is true... that all emotions stem from the heart."

We said farewell as she reached her stop before München and packed her things together. And that was our pleasant morning train ride.

From Oktoberfest, München

Good luck and happiness on your travels. Maybe we'll see each other again some day.
Auf Wiedersehen, Frau "Herzenmacher".

Tag der Deutschen Einheit

Whoot! Check out Google's homepage graphic of the day!


Deutschland!
(Today is the anniversary of Germany's reunification).