'Burgweh - Knock Knock!

Today was the first day of classes at Vanderbilt. After each class, I keep wanting to knock on my desk, and sometimes I (very) briefly wonder why nobody is doing the same. And I'll admit... I still do it very quietly anyway, knowing that I'm the only who hears it or understands it.

In Germany, that's what you do when class ends. I had always wanted to get a brief video of it, but never did, for some reason. It's kind of interesting... And don't ask me why they do it, I don't know the actual reason.

But it feels SO NATURAL to do it now!! Everyone should knock on their desks upon the end of class!!

Okay... so I realize this is yet one more little thing I miss now. If this seems rather strange to you, then imagine going to normal live performances where the audience doesn't clap at the end of the show, but simply gets up and starts to leave when it's done.

Sorry to Bother

I've heard telemarketing is no longer allowed here, but the Chinese telemarketers either never even got close to getting wind of this, or they casually ignore the rule and pull the No-Speaky-Good-English card. So my Chinese family gets telemarketer calls somewhat frequently from time to time. Despite the No-Speaky-Good-English card, you usually can't fend them off with English either, because they speak it well enough to keep badgering you about great international phone plans starting at just blah blah blah blah....

But since I've been back, I've found that the fastest way to ward off ordinarily relentless Chinese telemarketers is to fight back with none other than a (seemingly) ruthless slew of German.

*phone rings*
Me: "Hello?"

Chinese Telemarketer: [Chinese] "Hello!!!!!! If you please, is Mr. Li there??????"
(你好！！！ 请问，李先生在吗？？？？？？)

Me: "Es tut mir leid, aber ich glaub', er ist momentan nicht zu Hause."
Translation: "Sorry, but I don't think he's home at the moment."

Telemarketer: ..... (timid) "Hello?"

Me: "Kann ich noch was helfen?"
Translation: "Is there anything else I could help with?"

Telemarketer: [English] "Is... somebody can speak Chinese?"

Me: "Leider kann ich Sie nicht verstehen. Gibt's vielleicht eine andere Sprache, die Sie sprechen könnten?"
Translation: "Unfortunately, I cannot understand you. Is there perhaps another language that you could try speaking?"

Telemarketer: ......

Me: "Hallo?"

Telemarketer: [English, horribly awkward] "Oh, sorry, um... sorry. *click* "

I don't care how evil you think I am. These people have been calling us every day for a week.

Turnaround

You know, I think my German is actually better than my Mandarin Chinese now.

(And if Kaci ever reads this, she will not only understand but also instantly fall on the floor laughing at what an understatement this is).

Somewhere Beyond The Sea

Sanni is a friend of mine in Germany. We have a sort of joke of making bad jokes between each other. As I was sitting next to her with a few other acquaintances during my last week in Regensburg, I turned to Sanni and melodramatically sighed,

"Oh, Sanni, of all things to accidentally forget in Regensburg.... I've left my heart!"

Of course, a few days later as a farewell gift, she got me this sweet red jacket with REGENSBURG across the front, and on the left side where my heart is, there is a small, iron-on patch of the crossed double keys, symbol and seal of Regensburg.

I miss living within walking distance of you, Sanni. I'm not even within swimming distance any more.

Cut-ography

I really wish I had taken more pictures specifically regarding this topic while I was in Regensburg (*brief sobbing moment regarding past tense of the sentence*), but we'll just make do.

In Europe, aside from flavor, there are two other distinguished differences between the pizza there and the pizza in America - 1) It is much thinner, and 2) It is typically served uncut.

When going out with friends to one of the 203502395 Italian restaurants in Regensburg, I would always notice how differently everyone cuts his or her pizza.

• There's me, hacking in long, broad slices and then into bite-sized pieces, maintaining a fairly evenly distributed offensive front from my side of the pizza.
  
• There's the Hack Straight Into The Middle And Work Your Way Out.
  
• There's Radial Triangle Slicing, more frequently seen in some of my American friends, for obvious reasons (or for those of you who don't live in America, American pizza is always served sliced radially in typically 6-10 slices, depending on pizza size).
  
• There's the Alien Parasite Breaking Into The Barrier At One Point And Eating Out The Innards From There, Leaving The Crust.
  
• There's Chaotic Random Hack-At-Will, Which Bothers The Author Of This Blog A Lot.
  
• And I've even seen, Holy Heavens, This Pizza Is Huge, I Must Fold In Half And Hack From The Back If I Am To Conquer.
  
• etc. etc. etc.

Ah, so many different varieties. How I only wish I had taken pictures!

I just have this feeling that the way you eat your pizza reflects your personality, which is why I am so personally fascinated by this. If you don't believe me, just humor me.

Home!

Alright. It's a little after 7:00 AM and I'm sitting in my room peeling my eyelids open as part of my plan to counter the jet lag. In the last half year, I've usually woken up around 6:30 - 7:30 AM, so maybe this will aid with getting back into routine. Plus, I woke up at 3:00 AM for absolutely no reason of disturbance, which never happens, so my body is still in a bit of a, "I'm telling you, these Circadian Rhythm orders from upstairs just CAN'T BE RIGHT, it's mid-morning, I tell you!! MID-MORNING!!" attitude right now. Don't worry, you'll be feeling better and back in American Central Time soon enough, Körper mine.

So! For most of you smart cookies out there, you'll know that I'm finally back home now, after a grueling but fortunately uneventful 1-shuttle, 3-plane, 23-hour, 2-in-flight-movie, multiple-bouts-of-crying trip from Regensburg > Munich > Amsterdam > Detroit to HOME. No lost luggage, no significant injuries, no major additional emotional scarring (but I think I made an old lady cry when she saw me pull out a note from a friend and start crying as I read it at the Munich airport). Two thumbs up for uneventful traveling.

Originally, I imagined this blog would come to an end upon my return, since it was primarily focused on expressing and telling what was happening to me in Germany on my year abroad. But on second thought, that's not true. There's experience in coming home itself, and more importantly, I already anticipate the infamous reverse culture shock to come. I'm not done telling stories just yet.

So in a nutshell, there will be some other things to come here. And if you get bored, of course there's always Bloog-a, my other little blog floating about in cyberspace.

Farewell, Regensburg. My heart breaks to leave you, but I'll be back some day to reclaim the pieces.

Empty House

Last night, I finished packing and set everything to be ready for departure this morning. As I crawled into bed under the covers, I coughed briefly, and to my horror, my room echoed!

From Living in Regensburg

Abschied

It's my last night and I can't stop crying.