You Swine!

Ah. How splendid.


It was just announced on the news this morning that the first case of the Swine Flu in Germany has just been documented in - none other than - good old Regensburg.

It was reported in the surrounding county, so the case fortunately wasn't within the main city itself. But you must admit that we've really got to hand it to Murphy again this time. Gosh darn it, Murphy. *shakes fist*.

At the moment, I am still not certain if I should bring this to my mother's attention. I had only just convinced her how safe I was here. Sigh.

(Ironically, the pig is an animal/symbol of luck in Germany).

When in Germany (Bavaria)...

Last night, I went to the official inauguration, I suppose you would say, of the new director of the University. The event started at 18:00 (on the spot, naturally) and was three-or-so hours of me alternately listening to one of two things. The first was endless streams of advanced German vocabulary that made me sit there and nod quietly with a sniffle to accept the obvious, massive futility of taking on the endeavor that is the German language. The second was listening to the fine university concert orchestra unfortunately struggling to keep up with the frenzied soloist who either has horrendous stage nervousness, or needs to lock himself in a room with nothing but his violin and a metronome for a fortnight. At least the orchestra put on a well-executed performance. (Mendelssohn rolls in his grave, Mr. Soloist! While you might enjoy diddling out all those 32nd-note runs as fast as your little fingers can manage, your plan to stun is going to backfire when you play with all the emotion of a wooden chair and your orchestra can't follow you!!)

ANYWAY.

The actual point of this post is to share with you, my readers, the lovely fact that at this semi-formal event, there was none other than beer and pretzels served at the reception following. Oh, Bavaria! You never cease to amaze.

99 Bottles of Bavarian Beer on the Wall...

When my mother was still here earlier, we were talking about cooking. She said it's a shame that we don't have a microwave in our kitchen. I agreed, and said it wouldn't even be worth it to buy one at this point. She said, "Yes, after all, you've only got about 100 days left anyway."

I sat for a very long moment staring at her. And then I suddenly broke out in uncontrollable tears.

Okay, okay, they were fake tears. But very passionate and distraught, I assure you. Confound it! The mother is always right, as usual. Then I plugged in the date to an online countdown, because now I just had to know. She was right. On the day she said those words, I had approximately 107 days left.

That was 8 days ago.

Curiosity

"Also, hallo, ich heiße Lena, und ich bin eine Austauschstudentin aus den USA. In Regensburg studiere ich Germanistik, und ich bin hier seit... letzten September oder so."

I was sitting on the second row in one of my seminars today. Since it was the first day, we went around the room and introduced ourselves. As it comes around to me and I introduce myself, I almost couldn't help myself from laughing.

The instant that the words, "-and I'm a foreign exchange student," come out of my mouth, I watch all five heads on the first row individually whip around and look at me with sudden surprise and curiosity. I'm betting there were several other heads behind me that simultaneously looked up from their desks at that moment, too. There's nothing wrong, I don't feel offended or discriminated or anything. It's also not an uncommon response. Instead, I find it hilarious.

Klavierspielen

*sigh*. I got politely kicked out of the only music store in the central city for kilometers around that actually sells pianos. One of sales clerks came up to me and asked if I was actually interested in an instrument or if I just wanted to play.

DUH I just want to play. I've gotten kicked out of practice rooms at the university -- on an empty Friday evening -- because they are supposedly only for the use of the music pedagogy students. The closest option following that is a single, little practice room in a student dorm that is a 20 minute bus ride from here. You've got to pay something like a €50 key deposit for the room, and even if I take the time to go there when I want to practice, there is no certainty that the room won't already be occupied, which then involves either staying for an indefinite amount of time until the current occupant is done, or waiting for the next bus to take the 20 minute ride back.

Unfortunately, it doesn't seem convenient for a non-major pianist to find a "legal" piano to play in Regensburg. (Hey, I majored in piano for 7 years, does that still count for you?) This is pretty disappointing, all in all. If you're a runner, you'd put on your jogging shoes and go run before you've even unpacked your stonking suitcase in a new country. If you're an artist, nothing will stop you from finding some kind of supplies to draw, paint, sketch, whatever it is you do.

I'm a pianist and I'm dying to play. I hadn't touched a piano in weeks. Schumann Impromptus and Mendelssohn Lieder are fading from my mind and fingers. Unfortunately, I'm being turned away at all the doors in the city with a playable piano behind them. So yes, there are far worse things that could happen, or not happen. But the only inconvenience in the magnificent, unparalleled instrument that is the piano is its very poor portability.

And by the way, don't ever suggest to a pianist in this kind of situation to find an electric keyboard to play. It's something like handing a plastic recorder to a clarinetist who couldn't bring his clarinet. Yeah, it could be a top-quality plastic recorder, but would you take it?

Overlap

While those of you in America, and very likely other countries as well, are cramming and stressing for final exams/term papers, we in Germany just started classes yesterday at the universities.

If that's too weird for you, you can just remember that our second semester goes until the end of July.

Wait, maybe that doesn't actually reassure you.

Der Schraubenzieher

If you're going abroad, one item that I recommend, which you might or might not think of, is a (flathead) screwdriver. At some point in your year or semester abroad, you will very likely think, "A screwdriver would be really handy right now." I know that I have.

It screws or unscrews things, it pries things open, it pries things off, the blunt end can be used to mash something in, and the pointy end can be used to stab offenders in unkind places. Please do not use your screwdriver to vandalize public property or stab non-offenders in unkind places.

Mother and Daughter

As you've likely figured out by now, if you're a smart cookie, I've been away for the last couple of weeks because my dear mother has been here to visit me.


In a total of about 17 days, we traipsed: Regensburg, Salzburg, Chiemsee, Munich, Halle (Westfalen), Amsterdam and the Keukenhof Gardens. Pictures will likely not include any more of my mother, not because she looks half her age and has no reason to be ashamed, but because she might disown me if I try to. So you'll get a lot of photos of me, which is what you like anyway.

As much as he wanted to, my father didn't come as well because, quote, "Mrhrmm, it's too much money for the both of us to go, and I'm just an old grump and your mother will get more out of it anyway. Here's some extra money so the both of you don't starve, and you better damn well take her on all the trips and boats and horse carriages and tourist stegosaurus ridings that you can or she'll nag and guilt trip you about it later when you're both old. Okay, stay safe and talk to me later, I've got to go grow some cells in a petri dish."

Brownie Points

Two and a half weeks ago, my mother arrived here to visit me. I booked a direct shuttle for her directly from the Munich airport to my street in Regensburg.

She was the only passenger pick up for that morning, so when she realized with shock that she had lost her camera on the plane, her incredibly nice driver drove her back after 15 minutes down the highway to go try and locate it. He translated German for her, explaining her situation to the airport staff, and waited with her until they came back with some answer. When they finally got here to Regensburg, he happily offered to carry her heavy luggage up to my room -- which is on the 5th floor of a building with no elevator. This was also not even part of the shuttle service. He was panting by the time he reached the top with us, and still left with a big, friendly smile. (Just think... he didn't ever even give us the German Stare! *swoon* ).

Today, I am still wracked with guilt that I forgot to give him the extra tip which he so deserved. All I paid him was the basic shuttle service fee. I guess it just nags me a little more because I will likely never see him again to tell him thanks for taking good care of my mother all the way here.