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.
Thursday, September 04, 2008
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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