Life as a Hamburger

Vorfahrt gewähren!

2009-02-26T13:38:00.000-08:00

= Yield!
(right: one of the pics used on the theoretical test which I took)

"Rechts vor Links" (right before left) is a mantra for those learning to drive in Germany -- because they have more uncontrolled intersections than we do, and unlike in the states people actually tend to follow the rules, this one is actually important.

An American license is only valid for 6 mo. upon entry into Germany, after which it must be transcribed, the process for which varies in difficulty depending on the US state where you license was issued. Out of MN only the theoretical test was required -- however even this was rather tricky, and filled with tricky questions regarding weight limits, indicators for various specific car problems, myriad signs, and how to react in specific situations. A far cry from what is required in the US. Seeing as I need to be able to drive for work, it was worth the hassle, and even though they took my old license... it expires in March anyway, so I will be able to simply replace it.

Immediately following my last entry I started a 3 week block of school, during which, aside from studying for and taking the drivers test and going to school, included 2 trips to Berlin (one to see these American friends (Lea and Kurt):
...the second trip (deep breath in...) was largely on behalf of my teacher (and leader of the trip our cultural exchange group is planning to Mozambique in August) who was unhappy with how a public forum on basic education in Africa was organized largely because we didn't get any donor leads for our trip and wanted to express himself in person to the organizers, who, as it turns out are only bitches for the Federal Department of Economic Cooperation and Development next door. (whew).

...oh, and I moved. Away from my suburb and home of 2.5yrs and into the city and closer to work. I'm now in a place I found online with a 30-something guitar teacher and a girl my age in the computer design industry. Both nice, quiet, low maintenance. Pics and more details will follow as soon as the boxes have been unpacked and my desk (still in slow process in the shop) is finished and delivered. Katja is moving as well. Just down the street as it happens. She has been spending the week (using vacation time) to lug boxes, paint, and chase down furniture. The last push in on Saturday when we rent a van and drive through the city picking up the furniture she's found at Ikea and on Ebay -- it won't be very relaxing.

Moving and work
and private projects
hectic now, but
On the bright side,
it's getting lighter:

Arbeit macht (gerade) Spaß!

2009-01-27T08:43:00.000-08:00

In the Winter in the afternoon the sun comes in low through the windows in the machine room.

Work has been interesting and engaging since I returned from the holidays at home. One of our clients, Herr Besser (literally, Mr. Better) has a condominium in a high rise overlooking the Batic Sea. We made the hour drive up their three times to install the extensive bedroom cabinets we built for him. From his ninth floor unit the view was beautiful, with water out one side of the apartment and the tips of tall trees at eye level out the other. Going out on a build/installation (Montage) is always exciting for the change of scenery, new places in Hamburg and elsewhere, as well as snooping through other people's homes. Mr. Better--who is recently retired--and his wife have rather quaint, kitschy, and cheap taste in furniture for their weekend second home, so the view was in fact the most exciting thing there. He has nothing to do during the golf off-season, and thus spent the entire three days hovering over our shoulders, asking questions and wanting to help. Aside from this breathing-down-our-necks serving as a good source of humor, due to his easy-going character and utilitarian sensibility, this also proved to be helpful when a couple of small problems in our process surfaced.

On a recent weekend Katja and I made it to an indoor Flea market and antique convention here in the city... if you like garage sales in the US, image how interesting it is to rummage through people old junk (and some nice antiques) from a different country. This yellow leotard-ed fellow reminds me of a different item I did not muster the courage to photograph with the owners in front of it. It was the book, "Zehn Kleine Negerlein" (yes, "Neger" means what you think it does, and "lein" is the diminutive ending). As I found out online, this relic of a more racist (recent) German past, which was a counting rhyme book for kids, was the German version of the American rhyme Ten Little Indians. The book was published as late as the late 1950s.

Another "Montage" I was involved with for work took us to Kiel, another Baltic Sea coastal city, this one on bay that cuts in from the ocean. The work itself was a laundry list of rather small items to improve previous work we'd done for them before and take some measurements. Like Mr. Better, these clients had a nice view too, as well as an untreated wooden floor of Jatoba (Brazilian Cherry), and sweet cat on top of it.

This week I'm at the handworker's guild doing the first in a series of workshops required during my apprenticeship -- this one is on basic, hand-crafted joinery. We've thus far practiced several kinds of mortise & tenon joints (for frames, and for table legs), and spent the day today working on dovetails, which are tedious but rewarding to make.

Zusammenfassung: Schule

2009-01-18T06:29:00.000-08:00

A lot has happened in the last four months! ...as much as it sounds like a tacky, self-indulgent holiday letter with such a start, I'm using it anyway for this recapitulation:

Since receiving my permit to legally work as a fine woodworking apprentice my whole outlook has relaxed quite a bit -- no matter what you're doing, it's a relief to have a sturdy plan and secure job guaranteed for a couple years. That certainty has not made the grunt work in the shop any more exciting, but it feels good to feel work and the procedures I've learned move more smoothly and naturally, and I've started thinking more about my goals during my time and how I can ensure that I reach them.

The required trade school (Berufsschule) has proven to be rather underwhelming while not uninteresting. I've enjoyed learning the properties of trees for example, and of their wood, how to identify them, and about various products into which they are processed , but have thus far been disappointed by the shallowness with which the topics are addressed. This has largely to do with the average age (about 18yrs) and education level (Junior High) of my fellow students, which are further sticking points at the Gewerbeschule 6 in Hamburg.

Perhaps it's unfair of me and the several other Twenty-somethings (I'm a close second to the oldest) to expect the same level of interest and desire to learn, but mustering a bit of attention span and maturity shouldn't be too much to ask even of the 16yr olds in the class. Yes, I'm back in school with Sixteen-year-olds.

Annoyances aside, I've gotten to know a selection of the more interesting and engaged students through an African exchange forum with which I will be traveling to Mozambique in the summer. My primary class teacher, who leads this trade school exchange, has proven to be one of the more positive surprises I've found at school.

Erfolg!

2008-08-16T09:24:00.000-07:00

So, a large part of my reluctance to write new entries here had been the expectation (self-inflicted) that I update people on my future in Germany and corresponding status of my long sought after work permit.

...well, I got it. :)

And I was so glad to have received the news while I was home, so I could share it with my family, grandparents, and friends at home, who, after all, would be the ones most aware of my absence. As it happened, I opened the e-mail with the news from my boss while I was on the phone with Katja, so she found out right along side me. This event proved to be the icing on what was already a wonderful vacation:

It was a strange experience initially, to come out of a long night of air travel and drop back into life with my family after so long away. The cultural readjustments, language shift, and reminders of old modes of interaction were all fairly quick, but left me mulling them over as I quietly made personal sense (or tried) of these two very different identities and worlds of which I'm a part.

These different identities are not divergent ways in which I present myself--although assimilating a new culture/language has develop new traits/habits in me--but more how I see myself as fitting into each place. For example, how do I reconcile my being American (and being back in my native environment) with what I have grown to see as negative aspects of our culture and way of life?

In any event, the readjustment to family proved to be a pleasantly surprising one. We all seem to have matured together, leading us to get along as a unit far better than we had ever before; the intensity of sibling quarreling and conflict with parents was greatly reduced and had in many cases fully dissipated. Certainly a natural shift in family structure, but a welcome one.

I was especially glad to catch up and spend time with both of my brothers -- it is fascinating and enjoyable for me to see how they've changed develop, handled problems similar (and not) to those I did, and admire them for strengths I lacked and choices they've made. This rosy outlook may have been supported by the brevity of my visit--interrupted by two Midwest trips to see friends--but I doubt much would have changed it.

The highlight of our time together was a kayaking trip on the Kinnikinnick River starting in River Falls, WI., during the 4hrs of which the five of us and Martin's girlfriend, Elise, alternated drifting slowly through deep regions and barreling swiftly down rocky ones under clear blue skies. The stretch was secluded and mostly peaceful, except for the couple instances of capsizing at ill-placed tries downriver of swift rapids. To make up for those, we made a couple stops to swim and relax, one of which adjacent to a sandstone cliff that Martin and I semi-successfully attempted to climb.

Thinking of times like those do make me wistful for home, and certainly quell the negative sentiments for my home-country to which I alluded above. It's hard to say where I may end up down to road.

Urlaub von der Vorhölle

2008-06-05T12:13:00.000-07:00

...it's been a long time, I know. I've withdrawn a bit to avoid the topic of my future here, which is still uncertain. And I'll be lucky if my situation is settled before late July. He's working on it, he says, and I can't blame my (to be) employer for not moving faster -- after all, he is doing me a big favor.

In any event, the big picture has been good up in Norderstedt; work being fun, rewarding, and educational. However, the last two weeks have dragged a bit following the interview of one potential co-apprentice and a petering out of progress toward my goal.

And then today, I managed to embrace this limbo in which I'm trapped and simply enjoy the more tolerable temperatures and be reminded why I love this city so much:

After leaving work early from a job site near the city center, I headed to the vibrant, youthful, creative Altona district, a refreshing break from my generally older, more conservative Bergedorf. After checking out prospects for a short film festival at a local indep. cinema, I discovered a wonderful gallery housed in the same former Schiffsschraubenfabrik (manufacturer of screws for ships). It featured the work of an amazing woodworker whose complex and creative use of curves, joint, and above all, inlays, are technically awesome (think, original meaning of the word).

After snooping through a beautiful restaurant in the same complex, which showcases the dramatic size of the largely undisturbed and raw ruin, I got an ice cream cone from a little cafe and headed toward the city and through a neighborhood I'd never seen before. While architecturally dull, it was culturally diverse with a vibrancy not common in such neighborhoods (I may return there to try a packed, hole-in-the-wall Portuguese restaurant I passed).

As I approached the end of the district, I almost missed what could only be described as an anachronistic cemetery, hidden behind shrubbery, a high fence, and a row of old trees. The headstones, tipped and sunken, were decayed and moss-caked in a series of half circles weaving in and out of the ancient trees that darkened the whole plot.
Tracking the fence I was able to look back and make out that Hebrew was in relief on every one of them -- the Hamburg Jewish Cemetary, as I later read. This is the most significant and oldest (1611) of the handful of Jewish burial grounds in Hamburg, including the remains of composer Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy.

The last uplifting component of this afternoon was the podcast I was listening to as I walked through Altona. It was an NPR rebroadcast of a book-reading by a white, southern-African author (Alexandra Fuller) who had created a novel out of research she did while trying to write a critical expose about the oil industry in Wyoming, where she now lives. In pursuing the story of a young roughneck who died on a nearby rig while she was doing her research, she became obsessed with his story, and ended up recreating the entire world in which he lived, featuring the unique culture of these hardened cowboys in their rather barren and apparently limited experience. That I had already rented "There Will Be Blood" on iTunes for viewing this weekend proved to be a serendipitous continuation on the oil theme. Good film, incidentally.

I baked my very first loaf of bread last weekend (see below) and have been hooked. While initially uncertain of success, my fears proved baseless. I made a second batch this morning using a different recipe -- I look forward to a traditional German Abendbrot this evening before we head out to a free, end of semester concert on the Hamburg university campus.

Frühling der Unzufriedenheit

2008-03-26T12:19:00.000-07:00

Easter Sunday Katja and I took the regional Bahn two hours north of Hamburg to the city of Flensburg -- directly on the danish border. This delicious foliage (see photo), soaking up the sunshine, was tucked away in a park we discovered in a corner of that city -- a perfect spot for an Easter egg hunt, perhaps.

[Flensburg, the Northernmost city in Germany, is known nationwide, perhaps exclusively, for its beer of the same name. Situated on a bay stretching in from the Baltic Sea, the city spreads out on the hills that rise on either side of that body of water. It is beautiful mostly for its aquatic views and diversity of architecture, including numerous war survivors]

Having spent a gorgeous, chilly day in the sun and fallen asleep digesting a delicious offering of the local catch, it was a bit of a surprise and disappointment to wake up the next morning to this:While unexpected, and too wet and melting for lengthy walking in leather womens shoes, the snow was beautiful, and their source had an insulating effect than left the air warmer than the previous day. We we both content to leave early, reading on the train ride home.

Nevertheless, this unexpected, rapid and jarring shift in weather was not unique to Flensburg, and far from new. Several weeks ago it seems, just after it started getting lighter outside in Hamburg, the temperatures rose a bit for the first time, and the buds showed. And what seemed promptly thereafter, the temperatures plunged and the clouds and snow returned.

It may not have been quite so harsh, but it seemed to me to coincide poetically with the news of the denial of my application for a work permit and the subsequent building anxiety as my dream of studying woodworking in Germany began to crumble; a fear that seemed only to be confirmed by every official I consulted, including a very generous and well-dressed lawyer who donated some of his time to my cause.

The weather has not changed, nor the bürokratic Frust(ration), but the unending generosity and patience of my employers, and their near-inexplicable willingness to fight for their would-be apprentice have raised my spirits and hopes somewhat (even as unpromising back-up plans--insurance against crippling disappointment--are readying silently for the worst)."Corruption and Abuse of Power; there are no reasons to trust politics" ...nor convoluted government machines, for that matter.

Unterwegs

2008-02-26T11:46:00.000-08:00

26th February
The approach of Spring entered my active consciousness this morning with the startling departure of the bus stop fluorescents. While I've been enjoying the morning light for a while now, the shift seemed to stand out as I watched the sky while waiting for the 4th leg of my morning journey.

It actually occurred to me when I first left the dorm this morning to the chatter of birds --It has been a long winter of dark, night-like mornings-- and this new consciousness left me pondering the things that HADN'T changed in my morning routine. The middle-aged woman whom I appear to zoom past ascending the ramp to the train stop, her slow, excruciating steps doing their silent best to avoid some unseen suffering under the erect weight of her tall German body. Or the small mentally ill man in down winter jacket, knit hat and boots who seems always to be winning a race with her to the station entrance -- his stride is shorter, but with the quick, dragging sound of rubber on pavement that more commonly accompanies grade school recess; of course, the leather briefcase swinging with one arm is a clear reminder that we are beyond that stage.

Twenty minutes after having fought for a place to sit on the S21 I'm already securing a position at the door in the very first train car. When lucky, I have two minutes to make it down, up, and again down three flights of stairs to my next connection. While the trains tend to run on time, this window is usually closer to one minute or less; about half the passengers in this first car are in the same boat.

Sitting in my bus, the three trains behind me, I often draw the curious, little-girl stare of a graying, baby-faced forty-something. Each morning she gets on the bus with me at Norderstedt Mitte in her jeans and winter coat, free from purse or baggage, and rides to the industrial district one stop before mine on the 393. The picture suggests a job-turned-career at a machine on the concrete floor of a large one-story manufacturer. Her lack of the weariness and aging of regret hint at decades of settling in among a group of buddies and a comfortable routine; the coziness of a small bubble and the wide eyes of a wider world yet undiscovered. While her small talk with the young mustached man and his girlfriend seem to confirm this fantasy, it may well be far off.

Not infrequently I find myself conjuring false first impressions, an apparent product of a couple cultural factors distinguishing this one from that at home. While Germans tend to commit to and own their occupations more so than I feel Americans, they tend not to build an identity around those professions which might automatically set them apart from those of other classes or branches of work. As in the US, people still tend to group along similar education levels as well as according to class-related social factors. However, the practitioners of specific professions (whether in skilled labor or white color work)--that Americans associate much more readily with education level and social class--in Germany provoke a weaker and less biased first impression of an acquaintance.

The reasons for this may simply be the greater value and respect attributed all contributors to society, a bi-product of the social mentality of a welfare state. This respect and honor in each trade or business spurs the kind of commitment to and pride in one's work that is often evident where we might not expect it.

This is more of a discussion topic than a thesis; I welcome comments/other ideas.

Biometrisch!!

2008-02-11T11:56:00.000-08:00

...this has become the embodying word for my personal substantiation of the infamous German bureaucratic machine. The word itself refers to the formatting requirements for identification photos (required for everything from a passport to a subway pass); the proper contrast, color, size, and ratio between facial features, etc. compatible with facial recognition software.

It struck me as a fitting ersatz symbol for the Amt (=bureau) experience, having once politely asked a state employee for specifically WHY my photo was not suitable, and receiving only murmuring about the size, and then a sort of chanting of the word as though it were the German Standards Organization (DIN) mantra: biometrisch, biometrish, biometrisch...

At any rate, this occurred to me as I was collecting my thoughts to summarize an update the paper trail toward my apprenticeship and eventual school registration. To hold your attention, I'll be breif:

A week+ after dropping my application for a work permit in the foreigner bureau mailbox (they were mysteriously closed for over a week without explanation) I tried calling them up (4th time is the charm) for an update, only to learn my application had been forwarded to the neighboring state for a week to 14 days of processing because my employer is located JUST over the border to the north of Hamburg.

On another bureaucracy note, in attempting to register with the finance bureau in order to be paid at all for my disappointing Amsterdam gig, I entered the babel of Amt-speak, the German equivalent of the legal language you find in the fine print of warranties or software agreements. After an hour of deciphering with my resident native speaker, the forms remained eerily ink-free. I now have a long list of questions for woman at the Amt, if I could only find the time to call (their hours are different every day).

Press your thumbs for me that all goes well in the next couple weeks.

(a windmill and one of many thatched roof farmhouses about a 10min bike ride from where we live -- taken weekend before last)

Vervelend

2008-01-31T06:56:00.000-08:00

On Monday I accompanied a pair of computer-savvy types from a digital signage software company here in Hamburg to a convention in Amsterdam; I was signed on as translator for the boss (he speaks no English).

I had been looking forward to this trip for quite some time, and was a bit nervous about having to interpret on the fly for a company head who would be depending on me for making new foreign business connections.

So after a somewhat awkward 4.5 hours of sparse conversation and nauseatingly rapid ac- and deceleration on the Autobahn West- and slightly Southward through Bremen and Osnabrück--with a brief stop for a questionable meat-filled Dutch pastry--we arrived in Amsterdam. The sky was overcast. Big surprise.

After navigating the chaos of hundreds of laborers scrambling to finish a vast array of display booths in 3 giant halls at the Rai convention center, my colleague and I (the boss and organizer of this trip was off at a meeting) first discovered a problem which would end up cutting short my stay and greatly disappointing all involved:

The Japanese electronics company SANYO, at whose* large display booth our company was a guest, had, through inadequate communication between our boss and their technician, failed to provide us with the space and tools to achieve our goals; namely, attracting customers and demonstrating the software.

[*through a similar inadequacy in communication shortly before we left, my boss referred to a certain Sanyo who would be meeting us at the convention, and who would stay in the same hotel -- thus the person/object confusion]

Having nothing to do that afternoon, I spent the day exploring the city. While I still find the city structure and architecture stunningly beautiful, I had been there twice within the last year and a half, and my opinion of the rampant English language, trash, pot-head tourists, and apparent lack of unique Dutch culture had not changed.

To make a long story shorter: the result of our communication problems left us with 4 screens upon which to run looped company spots; no posters, no separate stand for our brochures, and no laptop with projector to demonstrate the software. Important to add, these displays on which our spots were allowed were the only LCD and Plasma hardware SANYO had on display, meaning passersby were far more interested in their high-resolution, weatherproofing, and touch-screen features than what one small Hamburg software company had to sell.

The result: I had virtually nothing to do. Tuesday I stood around for 8 aching hours eating complimentary cookies and saying, "no, I don't work for Sanyo, but could I interest you in some software". Why, might you ask, was I not translating anything for the boss who was paying me 15 EURO/hour to be there? Well, NO ONE who didn't speak German had anything to say to him.

So, that night I bought a train ticket back to Hamburg, unwound in a Coffeeshop, and passed out in my 4-star hotel room, feeling sorry for the 8 or 10 smug Japanese businessmen SANYO flew out their from Japan to stand around with us. If I had virtually nothing to do, those guys actually had nothing to do (and for 2 more days than I did).

The Dutch word for boring is above: vervelend. In the related German language, the similar sounding word verfehlend means to miss or not achieve something. There was definitely something missing in my Amsterdam experience.

Ausbildung!

2008-01-26T04:23:00.000-08:00

Following my 8-week stint at the Deutsches Schauspielhaus theater's scenery shop in October and November, I called upon a connection I made through a colleague at the Thalia Theater and started an internship at ZeZe Möbelbau GmbH.
(The name is pronounced "Tsay-tsay" in english, ZeZe being the German phonetic spelling of CC, standing for the two guys--both named Christian--who started the company)

While an apprenticeship at the Thalia Theater had peaked my interest for some time... it slowly became clear through my continued experience in theater construction and in conversations with colleagues that such an environment would not be the richest from which to learn.

The ephemeral flow of a theater which keeps things exciting and fresh on stage, demands mostly crude building techniques and cheap expendable materials. This realization, and the resultant decision not the pursue an apprenticeship backstage was disappointing. However, these regrets were allayed not only by the friendly and interesting people I found at ZeZe, but by their level of skill and the quality of their work.

It having become quickly clear to me--over the two weeks before Christmas and my first week back--that this would be a good place to learn the trade, and considering their interest in me and my skills, I decided to sign a contract with them as apprentice!

(The only downside of the whole this is their location, no less than 1 1/2hrs travel time door-to-door -- Katja and I will likely move to somewhere in between in a half year or so)

* * *

On a different note, last weekend we went to a symphony concert in the Laeiszhalle in Hamburg (her Christmas gift to me), where we heard:
- Dvorák: Serenade für Streichorchester E-Dur
- Mozart: Violinkonzert Nr. 5 A-Dur KV 219
- Haydn: Sinfonie Nr. 45 »Abschied«
...while all three are beautiful pieces, during some of the less enthralling movements I found my myself wondering HOW they managed to cut/bend/laminate the gilded wood moldings that fit perfectly even where their snaking arcs bent along the inward curving ceiling.

Ein zweites Arschloch gefreut*

2008-01-14T12:04:00.000-08:00

In response to the wonderful experience I had seeing friends and family over the last three weeks and at the nudging of some of those folks I have committed to making a better effort to stay connected... so here is where you can find updates -- (and should I drift again from this blog please send me a personal note)
[ok, so the weather in MN was not ideal]

I may have stopped short of "delighting myself a second asshole*" as zee Germans might say, but it felt really good to be back in the states.

At home, with the whole family together again after nearly a year and a half, I felt as if a sea change had receded, leaving a more friendly comradery among my brothers and me where an often strained antagonism had once dominated. And I'm happy to say I attribute none of this shift to the sheer length of time we'd been apart. My relationship with my parents and the dynamic of the family as a whole also felt much more organic as a result of the improvement between the boys.

Having always been somewhat turned off by the loss of subtlety and (relative) intimacy of voice or text correspondence I had forgotten how much I deeply missed the people I hadn't seen for so long... I'm glad to have caught up on all the unsaid subtleties that come in a face to face conversation.

* * *

The pace and feel of life is so much different in the U.S. than it is here. Alone due to the broader spaces and dependence on driving, a series of errands ends up being a far more personal and internal journey (interrupted by the occasional store merchant or panhandler) than it feels in Germany. The feeling of a series of errands in Hamburg is more like a journey, encompassing the walk to the bus or train stop, the ride itself, the people you watch, the announcements you hear, and finally the experience at the destination itself. In Minneapolis the feeling is not much different from staying at home; I'm listening to my own music, alone (or with family), and distanced and alienated from what it is I am actually doing. And the combined result of being among other bubbled shoppers and movers seems like a less sympathetic social environment than my trip to Penny in Nettelnburg.

I wonder if using a bike and (mostly pitiful) public transport in the U.S. would have the same effect?

It's been a while, hello again

2007-10-14T03:09:00.000-07:00

To apologize for the hiatus would be to assume I have anything close to a regular reader base. I don't presume such popularity, and I know that more curious folks just write me an e-mail for bits of my life here. NEVERTHELESS, a highly condensed update ensues (perhaps in several entries):

In retrospect, the sudden disappearance of entries after late February can rather simply be explained: ...

(after which point my blog search for meaning in my doings abroad and a desire to alleviate my longing for home subsided to a desire for connection with friends and family)

When I first arrived in Hamburg the excitement of how new everything was dominated, alleviating the initial anxieties and loneliness I first felt. But as I grew into my community at the school where I worked, and got to know the students in the building where I live, and developed friendships with the other Americans on my program everything became very comfortable. And a year being a relatively long time, I could afford not to think about my return to the states and simply immerse myself deeper in the experience and soak up as much from it as I could.

However, my increasing affinity for this place, this culture, and these people opened me to the possibility of extending my stay, and led me to look into how to do it. My increasing affection for and connection to Katja play no small role either, of course... establishing the foundation, really, which gave me the courage to take the steps that followed. (of course, she is also a continuing inspiration to stay, and bring my new plans to fruition).

Thus, my German theater experience, which had initially been planned as a simultaneous part of my Fulbright year, was pushed to the end of my teaching assistantship and extended... the Thalia Theater had no problem with this shift, after all, they woud be getting more of my free labor. And I called up the other large, state-sponsored theater in Hamburg and was pleased to arrange a longer internship with them which would take me until Christmas.

As it turned out, following a relaxing summer including a few days in München, a week in Umbria, and a week long visit from my parents and brother, my experience in the scene shop at Thalia proved to be a very rewarding and fulfilling one, leading me to think seriously about applying for a 3yr apprenticeship with them (the ultimate opportunity to learn the trade of carpentry from a culture that values diligence, hard work, and skill).

While having moved on to my internship at the Deutsches Schauspielhaus, I have already drafted my application for the apprenticeship at Thalia, and continue to be excited by the prospect of working with them.

Before heading home for Christmas for three weeks, I will also spend several weeks in a non-theater, fine carpentry shop which I was connected to through a colleague at Thalia. Hopefully this will provide me with a broader perspective of this field here, and hopefully further solidify my growing commitment to this new path.

Köln Karnival

2007-02-17T15:30:00.000-08:00

This weekend I went to Cologne for Karnival, the annual letting-loose celebration in which thousands of people dress up in costume, get drunk, and march through the streets (beginning on the first day of Lent, a religious connection apparently of little remaining significance, and culminating on "Rosenmontag" in mid Feb.). Remarkable about this celebration is how many people participate, including many of the older generation, whom one would not expect to dress as clowns and push a baby carriage full of beer and a boom box through the streets.

I spend much of my time with the 14 year old sister of my host (a girl who I met as a fellow Waldorf graduate through Facebook). The eighth-grader reminded me of the time in school when socializing is everything, so much so that all activities in school or discussions beyond it all come back to that one issue or feed the development and discovery of one's identity. I was initially surprised to meet such a progressive young person, only to see that her zest for progressive issues in politics was more of a naive ploy for attention and the undigested reflection of a rhetoric fed her by her parents (figures she attributed to these very beliefs). One can hardly lay blame for trying to find one's self and one's friends by latching onto issues popular in the lovable liberal media and proclaiming them one's own... but at what point do we separate ourselves from this petty vie for attention and truly act on convictions which are based on internalized morals?

What disturbed me about our conversation had to do with my own vain and uninformed arguments which I realized only stood above hers in there college-educated eloquence and not with a particular refinement, conviction, or resolve. I can't stand talking in circles around social issues when it becomes--as it often does--a kind of masturbatory oneupmanship in "goodness" that resembles a kind of secular replacement for Christian good deeds. Talk is cheap... I would rather cut my political conversations short until I stand firmly behind a issue for which I am also making tangible contributions than speak hypocritically of what I believe in--beliefs need be firmly backed with actions (a belief I have in many respects yet to support in my own life). In short, it was odd being confronted in a social context with someone of this age group. It reminded me of my youngest brother, from whom I have drifted somewhat in recent years. It made me realize again that he (and the the girl from Detroit, in Cologne) is not at the same stage of mental development and does not have the experience to think of the world the way I and older people can. [no doubt I will also look back at myself at 22 with the same sage condescension and wonder how I could have been so vain about other things].

Hold Steady

2007-02-09T02:36:00.000-08:00

Last night I went to my first rock concert in Hamburg. The Hold Steady was at The Molotow club in the St. Pauli district. They are a group out of Brooklyn, but composed of two remnants of the Minneapolis band Lifter Puller.

Given the description of the band as sort of a mix of classic rock with a grunge flavor, I wasn't sure I'd enjoy it -- however, when the band finally climbed on stage before the tiny but packed club and we made our way forward to just below the monitors I was really glad I had come.

The first song started with a quiet, almost spoken descriptive review of the social climates in the decades from the 1920s to the present, culminating at the end of the first stanza with the super loud entrance of the backup and bass guitarists, drummer, and keyboard... the energy was crazy, perpetuated by the band's encouragement of audience singing and continued to increase throughout the concert especially as they played several songs about Minneapolis.

At the end of the set the audience applause dragged the band back on stage for three more songs, the energy in the last of which building ever more before the band started pulling members of the audience up on stage (starting with me and then my two American friends).

Talking with the lead singer afterward, I found out he went to a rival college prep high school of mine called Breck, and spent part of his childhood in a house a matter of blocks from mine.

I'm still not sure if I'd listen to their music at home, but the combined energy of the musical style, their great performance presence and audience interaction, and the somewhat bazaar connection to my home town (in Hamburg) made for an awesome concert.

It does me Wrong...

2007-02-05T12:47:00.000-08:00

Es tut mir Leid = It does me Wrong
"Ess toot-meer lite"
When Germans wish to express apology they will often use "sorry", uttered with the R's rolled just enough to get caught in the back of the throat -- however someone of the older generation, or one of the many Germans who, as I would, refuse to take part in the anglicization of their language, will say that the given situation or action "does them wrong" to express apology or sympathy. Amusing when one considers the alternative translations for "Leid": suffering, sorrow, pain, misfortune, harm.

Incidentally, none of these apply to my feelings at having neglected the blog... just a bit of guilt.

Considering the long gap since my last entry, let a brief summary suffice for the in between events:

December 15-18:
Visit to London / stayed with Areta from UPS / walked lots / saw 2 plays / minded the gap
December 24:
Christmas Eve dance party at the LoLa club in Bergedorf (plenty of beer / 4am to bed)
December 25:
Bernd Hoffmann's home w/wife, 2 daughters, 2 step sons, 2 South Africans, 2 dogs, mother-in-law, and a cat -- good food, warm and friendly company, without pressure of one's own family
December 26:
Kiki Looft & Bernd Trommer, Kiki's parents & grandparents -- more delicious food and warm, relaxed company / lively discussion with Grandpa about the war...
December 30:
in Bremen with high school friend Arne Börnsen / explore city on foot / play with giant dog / chill New Years with Arne's friends

January 21st:
I went "Kegeln" for the first time -- otherwise known as 9-Pin. In this odd version of bowling, the lanes are only about 18" wide and curved slightly upward on the edges, leading the ball (smalled and without holes) to drift backa and forth on it's path toward the nine pins, which are also smaller. Each turn consists of rolling 10 times, once per rack. The pins are re-racked after each roll by ropes from which they are suspended. This sport has a reputation for being played by an older, less sporty crowd, and my experience was no exception.

I was invited by a student of mine and her grandparents as a thank you for helping her with an application to study for a year in the U.S. So, I was actually tagging along with the grandparents normal monthly routine of gathering with about twelve of their 70+ friends in the basement of a bar on the outskirts of Bergedorf. It turned out to be a good time... and not only because several of the old ladies bought me beer and blackcurrent Schnapps.

This experience reminded me of the second day of Christmas, when I got a chance to chat with Kiki's grandfather about the Second World War and world politics. Having only just met him, and doing my best to articulate my opinion in German, it was perhaps not as in depth as it could have been... but it was fascinating to speak with someone of that generation, from Germany, about the war.

One thing we talked about, which has come up numerous times in conversations since I arrived, is how the rest of the world views Germany; specifically the United States. Without detracting from the magnitude of suffering or brushing off the atrocities of Hitler, I am always irritated and amused when Americans can only speak of the war when it comes to Germany. This is not an unusual shortcoming, but the product of a lack of WORLD CULTURAL EDUCATION. I believe it is important for our population in particular to learn more about the values and ways of life of other cultures, not simply about how WE fit into their history. Germans have their share of incomplete or inaccurate preconceptions of our culture, but so much of our media, language, styles, and products are exported that they have a better sense of who we are than we do of them.

Perhaps it is less important that the average Minnesota high school student learn about Germany's present culture and way of life, but I feel I have missed something when I read the news everyday about violence in Iraq, arguments over Iran, or continued tension in Israel, without some cultural (and, yes, historical) background. It is shameful that we whistle our way through articles about Iraq without a solid idea of what their lives are like or what their influences are. However stereotyped and unfair the generalizations, at least we "know" germans to be hard-working, Bratwurst & Sauerkraut-eating, stern, engineers and scientists... we know virtually NOTHING about the cultures over which our government dictates.

It is also important toward gaining a greater sense of sympathy. If it were more than 50,000 GERMAN CIVILLIANS that had been killled thus far in a war lead by the United States and not IRAQIS, would we not take greater heed as individuals and as a country? How can we identify more closely with the peoples we terrorize?

København und danach

2006-12-19T05:38:00.000-08:00

The weekend before Thanksgiving I went to Copenhagen for three days. A woman I met this summer while doing some interior finish work on her house is from Denmark and put me in contact with an old friend of hers who still lives there. Marianne proved to be a great guide and a fun person to hangout with -- we got along from the start and seemed to share an easy-going and open quality that made our subsequent excursions very pleasant. She provided a much-appreciated insider perspective on the city and country and was also a refreshing testament to the contentment one can find in a non-traditional lifestyle; it seems not being married or having children allowed her to maintain a limber, young, and sharp perspective which seems so quickly lost (or homogenized) in nuclear families. Her commitment to and hard work in her job and hobbies, and the resultant skill in both is enviable... particularly for how attuned she is to her needs and changes, and willingness to take action when something is needed.
(It has been a long time since I last wrote, so this will be a more condensed post)

In addition to biking together through large sections of the city (which is pretty small), we saw an interesting exhibit in the Ordrupgaard museum, which itself was worth the trip for its' amazing addition by Zaha Hadid. [http://www.ordrupgaard.dk/eng/index.html]. One evening I met up with some of my fellow Fulbright Americans who by coincidence were in Copenhagen at the same time -- after walking for a long time through the streets that evening we finally settled on a kitschy bar and beers for nearly $9.00 a piece!
Were we smarter we'd have escaped the popular strip for Christiannia, the modern incarnation of a Hippie-Commune and the current home to many with modest, alternative, and almost always toking lifestyles. That same evening I parted with them and caught a Danish performance of Faust at the Konelige Theater -- the production had a giant pop-up book at a set, and featured some Rammstein mood music for the devil, but was an equally fascinating experience for the clapping in unison during the applause (aural evidence of the Socialist tendencies of the coutnry, perhaps? They do have excellent wellfare and sky-scraping taxes for the rich).

I returned to Hamburg Sunday evening, and the following Thursday I gathered with a group of American teaching assistents for a more or less traditional Thanksgiving dinner: turkey, mash potatoes, sweet potatoes, stuffing, cranberry sauce, salad, and WINE. In our unfamiliar oven the turkey took nearly 3hrs longer than anticipated, leaving the 10 of us with nothing to do but eat salad and polish off the 8 bottles of wine we had... we had a good time.

I saw a wonderful and moving film about the Secret Police (Stasi) in East Germany (DDR) called "Das Leben der Anderen" (roughly, the lives of the others) -- I also saw the worst American film I have seen in a long time at a Sneak Show called The Covenant (Here sneak previews are actually secret)... which was interesting only as a case study of how terribly formulaic, clichet, sexually exploitive, advertisement riddled, and poor in acting big Hollywood studio films have become (think, Fast and Furious).

I recently placed birdseed in a planter which hangs from the railing on my balcony and have since received daily visits from a number of Sparrows, the occasional fat orange bellied bird, and several pairs of Great Tits (pictured).

Spanien

2006-11-08T14:05:00.000-08:00

My flight took me through Mallorca, including a wide sweep around the southern end of the island before landing. This afforded me a beautiful view of the clear water, white-sand beaches, and scores of mansions. Unfortunately that view and layover proved to be the first of two sunny days I had in Spain... I was there for 6.

Yes, nearly every day I was traipsing through rain and colder than normal temperatures. However, it was very pleasant staying with Becky and her spanish roommate, Aida, who spoke an unusually large amount of English. [most Spaniards do not speak ANY english, a deficit which made things somewhat more difficult when my hosts were not around]. I was actually pleased to learn quite a bit about Spanish culture through living with and talking to her for a week, including a traditional Tapa recipe.

We spent quite a bit of time hanging out with Becky's peers in her evening Spanish class -- people coming from Latvia, Portugal, France, and Germany. It was interesting (if not a bit frustrating) to hear people from so many different backgrounds convening through a language once foreign to each of them. We mostly went out to bars for a drink after her class, including a so-called "Museum of Ham"... which actually did have some good ham. (Several times I actaully got a chance to speak some much needed Deutsch with a few Germans -- I was starting to miss it quite a bit, or at least the experience of struggling to use it).
I also got a chance to visit the school where Becky teaches (on the same program as me), but a couple of the days I ventured out on my own to explore the city in my raincoat. I saw some beautiful and elaborate parks erected by the royalty of the past, and some incledible period architecture lining the car-filled streets. Whereas Hamburg is mostly punctuated by canals and parks, Madrid loves large intersections with roundabouts encircling statues or obelisks. It also features several impressive parks, but there seem to be less pedestrain squares.

We spent one of the days (the second sunny one) in the royal city of Aranjuez, which sprung up around the summer "home" of the Spanish royality of the 18th Century. The palace and extensive gardens were impressive, and particularly enjoyable in the warm and dry. For lunch that day we ate at an odd sort of diner which served strange combinations of (seemingly) American dishes with Spanish names. What I ended up receiving was a vinnegrette salad with olives, egg, and tuna, and a broiled porkchop with french fries... I preferred the Croquettes we made with Aida.

Sunday night I took a series of 4 trains, with no more than an hour and a half between each one, from Madrid all the way back to Hamburg... that's 32hrs. While an interesting experience, that's the last time I will plan travel so poorly.

Amsterdam

2006-11-01T06:43:00.000-08:00

Becky and I arrived in Amsterdam Saturday afternoon (Oct. 14) and were met at the train station by our host for the weekend, Hans. We met Hans on an online traveler's network called Couchsurfing.com -- it is simply a meeting place to connect travelers looking for modest, but free places to stay (anywhere in the world where there are members) and hosts who share a wanderlust and like meeting new and diverse people. Needless to say we were a bit nervous at first, and both of us knew we wouldn't be doing this for the first time without the other. However after only a short while with Hans and his roommate Cathy (from England) and her Dutch friend Maaike, we felt very comfortable and even at home in their small apartment near the center of the city.

We went out to a couple bars and a nightclub that evening with our hosts. The city at night, particularly where the nightlife is concentrated, has a very loose and relaxed feel... the Dutch were once described to me as more easy-going germans, which doesn't seem entirely off base; maybe it's the drugs. [incidentally, it is not a stereotype that biking is popular in the Netherlands]

The next morning we headed into the center to a photo museum, passing many of the beautiful canals for which the city is famous. The river incidentally, which we also saw, is the Amstel (thus the beer; Heineken is also Dutch, and based in Amsterdam in case anyone wondered). After stopping for a coffee and then some lunch we sought out a paddle boat for rent to satisfy Becky's nostalgia for having done so when she was last there at the age of ten. Aside from getting briefly lost on the canals and nearly capsized by the large and numerous tour boats that roam them, it was actually a very pleasant way to see the city.

While my travel companion departed for Spain Monday morning, I had an extra day in the city, and a single night in a hostel. I wandered more of the city, taking in one of the large public parks, a number of bustling public squares, and past several interesting buildings, including a few old museums. In the afternoon when I ran out of steam I bought a ticket to "An Inconvenient Truth":
The film alone is a powerful and poignant one (and one I should have seen much sooner), but to see it in Amsterdam made the experience more moving; seeing a film that is aimed first and foremost at US as the grossest polluters and spenders of natural resources from outside our country, was enough recontextualization to make the point more salient. In addition, to see it in a country, the Netherlands, which will be the most dramatically changed worldwide (totally submerged), heightened the effect further still.

Tuesday morning I woke early and headed to the airport for Madrid.

Die Niederlande

2006-10-30T13:01:00.000-08:00

Thursday October 12th I took a train to Delft in the Netherlands, where I met a friend of mine from high school who has family friends there. Her friends were a really nice and engaging older couple who work at the university there. This is their house:

While in Delft, Elke, our hostess, gave us an incredibly thorough and informative tour of her town, including several interesting recent buildings on the university campus (one which appears to be submerged in a hillside) and many beautiful old structures from the era when Vermeer and Rembrandt were alive and painting there -- the former was born and lived much of his life in Delft. It was particularly interesting how the only ancient part of the city, packed tightly and surrounded by the few remains of what had been a wall & moat, seemed like a city apart from the more spacious and in parts modern counterpart beyond the walls. We had beautiful weather Friday, and managed to zip over to the Hage in the morning before this tour. Here is the gates to old Delft:

[It was actually a very odd experience crossing the German border on my connection train and hearing Dutch for the first time. While in writing the language has a number of similarities to German (almost understandable), the pronunciation differs SO much that it only 2 or 3 words in a long ramble made any sense to me.] I found this instructional decal equally strange, and commical (I don't think i've even given that much attention to pushing a button):

Saturday afteroon took us 2 hours back across to the country to Enschede, nearly on the German border (poor planning on my part led us here 2nd rather than 1st). Here we spent the night and toured the city and local campus with another of Becky's family friends:
In addition to enjoying a pleasant dinner with Henny and Wim, and their adult son who came by for our visit, we were encouraged to visit their daughter (and granddaughter) in Utrecht, whom Becky had likewise not seem in many years:

After taking leave of Jannika and little Franka in Utrecht, Becky and I departed for Amsterdam...
[In retrospect it was unfortunate that we didn't spend more time in these smaller cities/towns, because they seemed to have a richer sense of culture, and were not as polluted (both literally and figuratively) by the prevailing tourist bent of the big city]

Dresden on our Day of Unity

2006-10-08T02:19:00.000-07:00

Last Sunday I hopped on a train down to Dresden, where I stayed with a fellow foreign language assistent until Tuesday afternoon. The long weekend was in honor of the German Day of Unity, celebrated on October 3 (even though this day was technically that of the bureaucratic unity and not the popular dismantling of the wall).
[incidentally, I did not leave until Sunday because weeks ago I had purchased a ticket to Bertholt Brecht's "Caucasian Chalk Circle" at the Deutsches Schauspielhaus -- a production which turned out to be a fascinating example of his unique theories and accompanying style... however, I do wish I had been better able to follow the subtleties in the often complex text]

Kerstin and I spent Sunday afternoon exploring the old part of the city, which is crowded with towering ornate recreations of the original museums, churches, and palace which were destroyed during the war. Nearly all of these massive buildings, clad in darkened stone, are topped by beautiful gilded statues which form a starck contrast to their gritty pedestals.

The so called, palace, was never actually occupied, but was an impressive three-story building that ran the perimeter of a large green space and series of fountains. The whole complex (of which I only have film photographs) was constructed for court functions, but was first used to celebrate "the electoral prince Frederick August’s marriage to the daughter of the Hapsburg emperor Archduchess Maria Josepha" (http://www.skd-dresden.de/en/gebaeude/zwinger_mit_semperbau/geschichte.html).

The next day we took a short train to the Sächsischer Schweiz, a national park with towering rock formations that rise out of the lush rolling landscape near the Czech border. From our train station we had to take a tiny ferry across a small river to Stadt Wehlen, from which we headed up into the hills through the forest. Our hike peaked at an impressive lookout, from which we could see the river we had crossed and the town from which we had started.
On the way down we took shelter (from the rain) and dinner from a small restaurant at the base of the cliffs, before heading back to our train via a path along the river. That night I got a chance to see some of the new part of the city; the more lively, student populated center of nightlife. And Tuesday afternoon we meandered back through the city, past a flea market on my way to the train station.

Ein Sommernachtstraum

2006-09-27T06:56:00.000-07:00

Yesterday evening I went to a production of A Midsummer Night's Dream at the Thalia Theater in downtown Hamburg (http://www.thalia-theater.de/home.php?LANG=1). Unfortunately there are no good picture of the set online, but the basic design was a giant revolve with two rooms (one visible at a time) that would appear as an "H" from above. The walls were covered in a large patterned elegant wallpaper that formed a simple backdrop for the wacky and mostly contemporary costumes. A back drop with blue sky and clouds was the only other notable set element, however many props such as potted flowers, toilet paper, sheets of plastic, and sleeping bags.

As far as the production, it was a very entertaining combination of contemporary references to pop culture, often confusing mixing of languages and accents, and slapstick humor. One of the students in the group I assembled was convinced by the pointy ears and mannerisms that several of the characters were based on those from Lord of the Rings -- given the casual mixing of elements I would not be surprised, but I was not entirely convinced. In large sections the lines of Oberon and Titania were a sloppy combination of English (with an irish accent) and German. And one of the hopeless male romantics always spoke with a French accent and apparently made make mistakes in speach. Otherwise, the most interesting aspect of the show was the progressing reflection of the increasing chaos in the story through the physical states and appearances of the set and characters; the walls of the set fell, swivelled inward, and in places were burst through (being only made up of wallpaper).

For some visual interest... completely unrelated... I am continually surprised and dismayed that a Burger King took over this evidently very old, elegant, Temple-like structure with such a beautiful fountain/scupture before it. An interest contrast in ideas and cultural sensibility certainly, but hard to comprehend.

...And here is (or was) a poster depicting a member of the Christian Democratic Union, Gemany's main right wing conservative party and that of their current chancellor Angela Merkel -- a clear sign of the local Hamburg liberal sentiment.

Harburg, Pants, Kiez, and Bikes

2006-09-25T08:17:00.000-07:00

This past Thursday there was another party in the social room at my dorm, this time commemorating if not somehow celebrating the start of school for students at the local Bergedorf college. This was a great party because there were so many new faces from outside the dorm -- I met a number of cool people and got to know some earlier acquantances better.

Despite returning to my room at 4:30, I forced myself up around 10:30 to go look for some work clothes at a Hamburg builder supply store. Between my bike and two trains, it took my about an hour to get to the place, which was in the suburb of Harburg. The guy helping me, happened to be the same one who I'd chatted with at their Bergedorf (my city) location 2 weeks ago... as an American on an unusual quest I seemed to peak his curiosity, leading him to indulged my interest in German work clothes, and ultimately to special order a pare in my size (thinner and taller, aparently, than most German laborers).(Indicidentally, since I'm admitting to the rest of this somewhat nerdy purchase... he is selling them to me for the wholesale price).

Harburg is also the suburb where I spent three weeks on an exchange with a high school group summer of 2002, so it holds sentimental value for me. Biking through this city after ordering the pants, I was amazed how many even minor details I remembered about my time there... mostly places where I had spent a lot of time with my exhange partner and his friends. I made my way through the neihborhoods and eventually to a large lake in a state park I did not know was there. Morbid as it sounds, the other places I went biking was a large cemetary at which we had hung out in 2002. It is incredibly well kept up and each plot is lush with differnt plants and trees that create long shades hallways. there were also several less ornate sections with row after row of graves from the early 1940s. This was one of the wider car paths:
Saturday I went to the Hamburger Kunsthalle with anothe teaching assistent from the US. They had a broad mix of work from the middle ages to contemporary pieces, and a special show on art from China which was particularly interesting. That evening I met up with several other American for a couple beers at their apartment -- from there we went to the area known as St. Pauli, the Reeperbahn, or the Kiez, known otherwise as a redlight district. This area is completely full of people every weekend, so it is always a great place to people watch and dance free at several clubs.

At some point on Saturday I got an e-mail from one of the older teachers with whom I had connected in the previous weeks -- one of the more liberal, relaxed types whom all the students like. He invited me to go for a ride on his motorcycle along the Elbe -- once again, it was a bit rough getting up early, but it was a fun trip, particularly in the amazing weather we had.

..and Monday it was back to school and try to piece together a schedule with the English teachers; until then I'm still a little scattered.

Back on the Banks of the Elbe

2006-09-17T07:12:00.002-07:00

The day after I got back from orientation I went to a theater festival in the city called, simply Hamburg Theaternacht (Theater Night). It was a showcase of ongoing productions in all the major theaters in the city (of which there are Many). For 12 Euros you get access to 30min versions or segments of these ongoing shows and transportation between the theaters. Unfortunately, because it is only one evening, and the packed busses limits the amount of travel, it is only realistic to see a max of 3 or 4 of these segments. Started at 7:30 and heading home at about 12:30am I saw three of them... with a little help from some nice people on the street.

"Mein Ball: Ein deutscher Traum" was a bazaar but immensely enjoyable combination of Hitler and his people, Soccer, and American Rock 'n' Roll; interspersed with surreal, slapstick bits on military drills and short vignettes on soccer were a series of rock numbers, featuring all cast onstage singing and moving to such songs as Marvin Gaye's "Sexual Healing" and The Beach Boys' "Good Vibrations". Their american accents in these numbers were so good that it was pretty impressive.
http://www.schauspielhaus.de/stuecke/detail.php?dsh_stueck_id=2

The second show was at veriety theater featuring a slack-rope performer, an illusionist utilizing a 2foot metal ring (incredible control and seemingly inhumanly smooth movements), and what can only be described as a breakdancer who also did some clown and mine bits. Each one left the audience, and myself, thoroughly wowed.
http://www.stage-entertainment.de/30404.htm

The last show, which I got help finding from a couple on the street, was at the Hamburg Staatsoper (opera), and was an excerpt from the Marriage of Figaro... inerupted by an audience sing-along section led by a "fool".
http://www.hamburgische-staatsoper.de/0_english/2_state_opera/frameset_state_opera.php

* * *

Wednesday evening I joined a group of people from the dorm on the banks of the Elbe for some grilling. We were on the industrial far side of the river from the downtown area on a mostly empty beach. Getting there was a bit of a task, considering it was quite a ways away: first we stopped for meat and beer... ...then made our way to the subway station where we almost received 3 tickets for trying to travel with bikes on the train during rush hour. And finally, after 25min on the train, through the long, cold tunnel under the river:

If you can't quite see it, that is an entire case of beer on the back of Patrick's bike... which ALMOST all it all the way. In the last 1/5th of the journey he got help from a pedestrian to carry the bike down the stairs and several of the bottles jumped out and spewed over the steps.

That evening, the only thing visible of the skyline were a number of the blue neon "goals" that had been erected across the city as a sign of solidarity during the World Cup earlier in the summer. Some of the German flags that were also prevalent during soccer season still remain in household windows... another show of nationalism that hasn't been seen in Germany on quite this scale since the before the war. A positive turning point.

Koln (Altenberg) Orientation

2006-09-08T14:19:00.000-07:00

I just got back this evening from the orientation for all Fulbright students. It was held at a monestary outside of Köln, where we spent four days of focussed classes on teaching various grade and high school levels... and more importanly, getting to know the other students in the same position. After spending four days not being able to express myself in a nuanced way nor recognize my speaking voice, it was refreshing to meet with English speakers (all of whom share a significant interest in German). (There were 5 of us from Univ. Puget Sound--pictured on the steps beside the Köln cathedral are Matt Beckman, Amanda Corbyn, and Sarah Carnahan)

It was actually very intersting how relatively well everyone at the orientation got along; good combination of similar interests, drive, and mix of excitement and apprehension at a major transition. We were in classes and meetings all day, eating together in a big high school style lunch setting. The closest town was effectively out of reach, but there was a cute little bed and breakfast that operated a quant restaurant overlooking a pasture of grazing Holsteins (black & white). More than one of the evenings, a small group of people with whom I quickly bonded went there for part of the evening for some Furstenberg Weizen, a delicious beer very much like Hoegaarden. [One of the nights there was also a Corvette car club gathering... I know, if you have Porsches, BMWs, and Mercedes at your fingertips, why pay extra to import a Corvette.] To keep people from getting restless back in the monestary, the organizers provided us with beer every night for about a $1.50 a bottle (Kölsch and Bitburger, and cheap wines)... which we drank by the case.

Here is a sign in their parking lot warning that the hand of death will descend and steal your things if you leave them in the car. Also interesting was a small stone statue incribed with a passage from the Bible: Begreift Ihr Was Ich An Euch Getan Habe -- which loosely translated, means: "Grasp y'all what I at you, done have".
This is a picture of the cathedral that was attatched to the monestary in which we stayed (one side of which joined the ancient U-shaped dormatory to enclose a courtyard where we spent a majority of our free time.)

This picture I took on a short walk I went on with one of the other students -- beyond the far trees is the pasture which bordered the outdoor tables at the hotel.

Nothing Familiar

2006-09-01T08:10:00.000-07:00

Part of what is difficult about this transition is clearly the lack of family and familiar people (perhaps that's most difficult). However, the heightened state of arousal from struggling with another language and constantly figuring things out and providing my full attention alleviates this somewhat by simply dominating my consciousness... and that's why the evenings thus far have been a bit depressing -- because the stimulation has subsided along with the personal contact, leaving me with only my thoughts and memories of people in the U.S.

I always expected it would be tough to leave friends and have to start anew alone, but what never occurred to me was how different daily life would feel. The very sensation of being. Because there are no preexisting schemas for the way things look, traffic patterns, or expectations as one meets people on the street, they all remain in a seperate category governed mostly by the heightened arousal. The sensation is difficult to describe, as is that while riding this inclined escalator at the supermarket:

[similarly, the shopping carts that accompany this device have grooves in the wheels and slightly raised feet which catch in the corresponding grooves of the escalator, preventing it from moving in transit. Incidentally, all the wheels on these carts are free moving (unlike ours, where the back two do not spin), making manuvering a full body workout with completely differnt motions.]

Endlich in Hamburg (From 8.29.2006)

2006-09-01T07:47:00.000-07:00

Despite short delays due to bad weather in Chicago, I made it to Hamburg via Frankfurt this morning. The flights were not bad, and although I thought I could hold up for the rest of the day, after running around with my mentor for several hours looking at the school and starting to familiarize myself with Bergedorf, I needed to crash for a few hours.

The dorm I'm staying in is a cast concrete bunker from about the 1970s, which should provide some good sound privacy... and it has a wall of windows on one side, and a door which opens out to a small patio (connected to the other student's patios). I met a few of my cell-makes as well today -- they seemed very nice, but were not as immediately friendly and accomodating as one might expect in the US; however I'm confident they will be good people with which to hang out. Incidentally, most are doing apprenticeships in the area.

After the initial excitement of being in a new place, it quickly struck me how really alone I am... I guess that would be the expected culture shock... everything being SO new and not yet having anyone to sit down with, or with whom I can share my concerns. I expect part of this weighty feeling will go away as the jetlag does... but certainly starting a routine should help make things more familiar -- I hate transitions -- this point where I have to figure out where everything is, at which places I will shop, how to use the transportation, etc... is the worst. I'll ad some photos as soon as the airline drops off my other bag, holding a majority of my stuff...including my power adaptor for this slowing draining computer.

On the Way Out (from 8.15.2006)

2006-09-01T07:42:00.000-07:00

It was only in the last several days that is struck me how soon I will be in Germany... and how drastically my life will change.

Being a compulsive worrier with cyclical and delicate self-confidence I once again was creative and persistent in finding things over which to stress. Again I have bundled all hypothetical problems that I imagine for myself (realistic or otherwise) into one growing ball upon which I sit and bite my nails without efficiently seeking solutions to any one -- ("for, after all, there are so many, how could I possibly easy ANYTHING... so why even try").

Anyway, my emotions are mixed going into this journey... however I am confident that everything will work out for the best in the end, it is just a matter of how long until I am comfortable (and how well I deal with my new challenges).

Deciding uncharaceristically-spur-of-the-moment to fly to Seattle for 5 days, less than 2 weeks before I depart is certainly symptomatic of my travel/change anxiety... (and perhaps it's not the best timing) but I know I'll have a good time seeing friends (+ lover), and more pertinent, will be able to preoccupy my worries away.

Hold your thumbs for me.