I traveled to Berlin early Sunday morning (April 1st). I packed all my things the night before; which involved unpacking everything I had brought and repacking it. I had extra time and no stress, which was a new thing for me in the morning... so I had a lovely little breakfast with my hosts, and we eventually made our way to the train station down the road. The train came at 9:37 am.
The regional train that runs through Gusow follows a pretty lovely route. I usually just like to watch out the window. It goes through quite a few fields, and I can't help but wonder what the train route has seen in all it's years there. The tracks have been replaced and modernized, but who knows how old the route actually is? It certainly saw the invasion of the Russians in WWII, and may even have carried troops to Berlin... but for me, riding it in the spring is amazing, as the fields are filled with yellow "Raps." On this trip though, I was too early for the fields to be growing much.
I had to change trains 3 times to get to the Yorckstraße Station. The problem was, I had two suitcases about 50 pounds apiece, plus a backpack with all of my computer stuff in it, which was at least 40 pounds, plus a duffel bag that was a good 30 pounds. Changing trains on a platform crowed with people in a hurry while hauling that much crap is pretty tough. Not to mention that to change trains you actually have to carry everything down 50 or more steps, walk under the tracks to the appropriate track, and then carry it all back up, find the train, make sure it's the right one going in the right direction for you, and finding a spot aboard without pissing anyone off too much. They don't say anything, they just give you a long-suffering look. I find it better to look angry than apologetic... or maybe I'm actually angry by that time, I'm not sure. :) In any case, I finally made it to Yorckstr. and had to wait a bit for my friend to pick me up. She over slept... so I had about 25 minutes to myself to wonder if I was even at the right station. It didn't help that there are actually two stations... one for the underground line, and one for the bus line, and the other station was about 100-200 yards away, down a number of stairs and up some more, across the street. I finally met my friend, who is Sicilian and studying in Berlin, and we made for her apartment so I could put my baggage down. It took several more sets of stairs and at least 1 more tram to get there... I was worn out by this time.
We rested a bit, and then headed out into the city. I was in Berlin and saw quite a bit when I was 18 and spent the summer with Andreas and his parents.. but at that time I didn't speak German, and I hadn't studied history, and I really had no idea what I was looking at or the significance of it. So, it was a bit strange when she asked me what I would like to see, and I had to tell her I didn't know... then tell her I had seen whatever we were looking at 11 years ago. But, having traveled as much as I did in 2008-2009, I really don't care that much about sightseeing anymore. You can only look at so many buildings and parks before you stop caring about seeing them just because they're famous... you need another hook into the significance of the thing. Normally I do a bit of research... but for this set of visits, I was more interested in spending time with friends. Which is great too, because that's just what I got to do. :) We walked along the old wall between East and West Berlin; chatted, caught up on the 3 years of news between us, and discussed the nature of tourist attractions.
The Berlin Wall is kinda legendary, and somehow, for all its gory and harsh past, it's developed its own kitsch, with small hawkers and vendors selling surplus gas masks, Russian hats, and various other iconic communist objects along the streets at exuberant prices. It's a huge tourist draw in any case, and we found it hard to imagine that it was the border between oppression and freedom, where people risked and lost their lives to cross. The two images just of the places, tourist attraction and border, simple don't mix, even though it's become an attraction for it's checkered past.
After walking quite a bit in the cold, we met some of her friends, and had a beer in a cozy little bar on the northeast side of Berlin. We had a pretty good time, but I felt more quiet than I usually do, sitting with three Italians. :P Still, it was a good time, and we all talked in German, which was nicely equal, since we were all speaking a foreign language.
Later we went to an Arabic restaurant. Well... more of a joint than a restaurant, as it was quick food. I had a shalawa... or something. It was surprisingly excellent, since I didn't know what half the ingredients were and was sure I didn't like the ingredients I did recognize. Afterwords, we went to a Turkish bar... very low key, but agreeable. And at long last, around 11 or so, we made our way back to my friend's apartment. I curled up on the air mattress at the end of the hallway, and fell fast asleep.
Morning came, and after I repacked my things, we headed out, caught the tram about 9:30 am, and I was on my way to Vienna... but that's another story. ;)
Monday, April 9, 2012
Saturday, April 7, 2012
Das Neue Leben Fangt Schon An
It's been a while since my last entry... and I don't really know where to start. Hmmm... simple first, then expand.
I've now been through Berlin. I visited a Sicilian friend there, and met a few of her friends. It was pretty cool... and by cool, I mean the weather was cold too. Anyway... saw some things, had some laughs, did a lot of walking, and had some good conversations. That was Sunday.
Monday I took the train to Vienna... I left my friend's apartment with 2 suitcases, a backpack full of computer crap, and a duffel bag full of everything a duffel bag can hold. I think we boarded the tram at 9:30 am... I spent the entire day on trains, and eventually arrived, with all my stuff, in Vienna around 8:30 pm. It was a long day of sitting, but I found myself still worn out.
I had to change my plans do to unforeseen circumstances, and an unread email (didn't read the fine print) and so had to be in Freiburg by Thursday night to get my keys... otherwise I wouldn't be able to get them until this coming Tuesday... which means I would have been without a place to stay if I had kept my original travel plans. Longish story... but Thursday was also a very long day, and night, and lasted well into the early hours of Friday morning.
Today is Saturday, tomorrow is Easter... and I decided that instead of sitting in my new place, which is pretty spartan by any measure, and waiting for the stores and everything to open up again on Tuesday, I would take the train to Lautenbach to visit the German cousins (short history: two brothers in 1850, one went to America, the other stayed... and the two sides are now back in contact). So... here I am, and I'm glad I came. I caught up on the news, and the "family" here is every bit as lovely as I remember them being. Very, very glad I came... even though I was embarrassed to show up so suddenly on their doorstep, especially on Easter weekend (I called one day before and kinda asked/invited myself over). Still... better than sitting in my room all weekend without internet, telephone, tv, or heating (it's still kinda cold here in the Rhineland).
And, for now... that's about it. I will say that with the way Thursday and Friday were going for me, I was seriously considering the possibility that I had made a mistake in coming back to Germany to try for a Master's Degree... but now I finally feel like I've found my Zen (or not so Zen) center, and that I can handle everything in front of me again. It's been a whirlwind week.
Thursday, March 29, 2012
All the small things
Being back here at the Grigat's house has reminded me of many things. They are the little things that you remember only after you have been away from a place for a while. I'm going to try to remember as many as I can and list them here now.
The first thing that comes to mind is the smell. Not the smell of Germany or the countryside, but the smell of the house. Every house has its own smell, and this house has several that are particular to it. The guest bedroom where I'm staying has its own smell, the bottom floor of the house has its own smell as well. They aren't bad smells, just different... different enough that I can't actually name the smells, and different enough to have a direct link to my memory. It's like the smell that tells you that you are home. This place is very much my home while I'm in Germany, or at least the place I come home to. I've known the Grigats now for close to 14 years, and whenever I'm in Germany, they are the parents I visit. Andreas lived with my family for 1 year, and I've spent close to that through the intervening years living with him and his parents.
I'm trying to think of the other little differences that were so apparent to me a few days ago... but now I can't seem to think of any more of them. Maybe if I sleep on these thoughts they will come back to me in the morning?
In other news... German is coming back to me quickly. I've been surprised how much I can understand... practically everything here in Brandenburg. Unfortunately, it's been so long since I've spoken German that my tongue and mouth don't want to form the words correctly. There are a few vowel sounds that English just doesn't have, like all of the letters with umlauts, and there are a few consonants and consonant combinations that take practice as well. The 'r' here is rolled in the back of the mouth, quite unlike a Spanish 'r,' and to pronounce Schwetschkawasser was impossible for me yesterday. Try it. Shvet-shka. But, today I was able to say it pretty well. Anyway, the point of my surprise really is I can't believe how much German I'm understanding, but how difficult it is for me to form sentences and pronounce the words.
Oh, one of the big differences... the time change, otherwise known as jet lag. There's a 7 hour difference... which means when it's time to go to bed here, it's only 3 pm at home; time to get up, it's midnight; and so on. And just because you start to build a rhythm to the new time with sleeping and waking, it doesn't mean your body understands it. I wake up at 1 am every night starving, because my stomach thinks it's 6 pm dinner time. This is strange, let me tell you.
Alright, that's all I can think of for now. Have a lovely (day, evening, whatever).
The first thing that comes to mind is the smell. Not the smell of Germany or the countryside, but the smell of the house. Every house has its own smell, and this house has several that are particular to it. The guest bedroom where I'm staying has its own smell, the bottom floor of the house has its own smell as well. They aren't bad smells, just different... different enough that I can't actually name the smells, and different enough to have a direct link to my memory. It's like the smell that tells you that you are home. This place is very much my home while I'm in Germany, or at least the place I come home to. I've known the Grigats now for close to 14 years, and whenever I'm in Germany, they are the parents I visit. Andreas lived with my family for 1 year, and I've spent close to that through the intervening years living with him and his parents.
I'm trying to think of the other little differences that were so apparent to me a few days ago... but now I can't seem to think of any more of them. Maybe if I sleep on these thoughts they will come back to me in the morning?
In other news... German is coming back to me quickly. I've been surprised how much I can understand... practically everything here in Brandenburg. Unfortunately, it's been so long since I've spoken German that my tongue and mouth don't want to form the words correctly. There are a few vowel sounds that English just doesn't have, like all of the letters with umlauts, and there are a few consonants and consonant combinations that take practice as well. The 'r' here is rolled in the back of the mouth, quite unlike a Spanish 'r,' and to pronounce Schwetschkawasser was impossible for me yesterday. Try it. Shvet-shka. But, today I was able to say it pretty well. Anyway, the point of my surprise really is I can't believe how much German I'm understanding, but how difficult it is for me to form sentences and pronounce the words.
Oh, one of the big differences... the time change, otherwise known as jet lag. There's a 7 hour difference... which means when it's time to go to bed here, it's only 3 pm at home; time to get up, it's midnight; and so on. And just because you start to build a rhythm to the new time with sleeping and waking, it doesn't mean your body understands it. I wake up at 1 am every night starving, because my stomach thinks it's 6 pm dinner time. This is strange, let me tell you.
Alright, that's all I can think of for now. Have a lovely (day, evening, whatever).
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Traveling
The really amazing thing about being someone who loves to travel is realizing how much you actually hate to travel after 8 hours in the same small, uncomfortable seat on the same plane flying over the same ocean. The novelty of flying over Greenland and Iceland wears off very quickly, and for all I loved visiting Sweden on my two previous trips to Stockholm, all I wanted while changing planes in Arlanda airport was for everyone to quit speaking Swedish and allow me to sleep.
Altogether, I spent about 21 hours straight traveling Saturday and Sunday. I was up rather late the night before, packing my worldly possessions into boxes and moving out of the apartment I had been living in for almost a year, and packing my two suitcases that are supposed to contain everything I'd need for the next two years. I got about 5 hours of sleep heading into Saturday morning. Up at 7 a.m., at my sister's by 8, and left for the airport by 9. We got there a little before 11 a.m., and I started to check my bags in and get my ticket. The fact that I had to sit on my second suitcase the night before to get it to close should have been a good indication that I had packed too much in it... but I didn't think much about it at the time, I had just wanted to be done and get some sleep. As it turns out... checked luggage may weigh only 50 lbs. to avoid a $200 fee. Over 70 lbs. the fee jumps to $400. My second suitcase weighed in at a little over 71 lbs. Funnily enough, when the lady asked me if my bags were 50 lbs. or less I picked up the first one and curled it. I said, "Yep, that one's good." since I knew I couldn't curl more than 50 lbs. She looked at me funny, but when I tried to curl the second one and said, "Ah crap, this one is too heavy." She then pointed out there was a scale 2 feet from where I was curling my luggage. Turned out I was right, 44 pounds for the first bag, 71 for the second. I then took it aside and had to unpack 20 pounds of crap. The lady gave me a plastic bag to put the "extra" stuff in. It was harder than I thought to get rid of 20 lbs. of clothes. I have traveled internationally several times and never been over on the baggage, so this was a new experience for me. 20 minutes later, after going through everything in public, I weighed my bags in at 49.5 pounds, and 50.5 pounds respectively. I also got 2 carry-on items... and though the rules say you may only pack 16 pounds in them... I'm pretty sure I got away with about 40 pounds.
I got through security, and settled in to wait for my flights. First flight was Kansas City to Chicago, took about an hour and a half. I had plenty of room, and sat next to a guy from the Netherlands who was flying to Amsterdam to defend his thesis. We talked a bit, he was in Kansas to visit his sister who was doing a year exchange there. I think he left Kansas underwhelmed, but he was polite about it. I don't blame him, the Midwest isn't very exciting compared to international traveling in Europe... I can only get so excited about cows, corn, or sunflowers as far as the eye can see, so I don't hold it against anyone else when they aren't giddy in my home region. I told him I was going to Germany to study Linguistics, and he admitted that he spoke some German, and that he had been to Germany several times. I asked what he thought, and he said he liked West Germany, as he had been to Cologne several times, but that he wasn't a fan of East Germany, as the yearly conferences he had been attending in Cologne had been moved to Leipzig. I stated that it was amazing to me that even 20 years after the reunification, there were still great differences between former East and West Germany. He agreed, and proceeded to tell me about Leipzig and East Germany... Leipzig is a place I've spent a few weeks on a few occasions. As he was telling me about shrines to Hitler with flowers and such that he had seen there, I mentioned this little fact that I had been to Leipzig, to which he replied, "Yeah, yeah, the city is fine... but if you have to get gas outside the city..." and he proceeded to tell me how dangerous and scary it was. At this point, I decided I was done talking to him. I understand there is probably some lingering resentment from the invasion of Holland in WWII, and it's probably stronger in small towns like where Martijn is from, but this felt a lot like a guy pissing on my foot and telling me it was raining. I can't say for sure that he didn't see the things he said he saw, but I think it very unlikely.
Let me backtrack a bit... right after we took off from KC, as the plane was climbing and they started to pressurize the cabin, my right ear wouldn't pop. The pressure built until I thought my ear would explode, but of course it never did, I simply became dizzy. I thought the plane was turning, though in reality it was flying straight, my dizzy head was spinning. I tried looking out the window, and yawning, and every other trick I could think of for dizziness or a pressurized ear; nothing worked. I started to get sick to my stomach, and I realized that when I opened my eyes it looked like the plane was doing barrel rolls. All I could do was sit and close my eyes... finally my ear popped, painfully, after which it burned for a while... but within 5 minutes the would had stopped spinning. So it was at least halfway through the flight that I was able to relax and talk to the guy next to me.
I made it through Chicago without too much trouble... if you don't count the 4 times they put my computer backpack through security. In case you have ever wondered... they don't like it when you have 2 computers, 4 external hard drives, or various other things packed in your carry-on. They especially don't like it when you have a circuit board (motherboard to my desktop computer) bubble wrapped in your luggage and about 20 batteries in the pouches.
After that, I made it on board my second flight, Chicago to Sweden. The first couple of hours were fine, but after dinner, I wanted to sleep. The entire cabin shut off their lights, and got quiet, and tried to sleep. But not the woman behind me... her reading light was on the entire trip, which meant it shined on me for most of the trip. Also, she must have had a lot to say, because she spoke in Swedish the entire time. 245 people on the flight, and the one behind me is the only one that didn't want to sleep. So, I didn't get any sleep. Well, my brain didn't, after 3 hours my butt fell asleep... the kind of burning numb sleep it gets from sitting too long in one position.
Made it to Arlanda airport in Stockholm, where I saw a fairytale play-place for children. I was tired, grumpy, and probably more than a little angry... but it was the perfect thing to see. I liked it enough that I stopped, dug out my camera from my over-packed carry-on, and took pictures. It even put a smile on my face. It's those little moments when you realize the world is an okay place that I love.
Made it to Berlin, Andreas was late and my flight was early. I stood by the taxis outside for a while, but eventually went back inside to try to find a pay phone to call him. As I was walking to exchange my money, I saw him at another desk, asking the guy to page me in the airport. I snuck up behind him and tried to hit him with my suitcase... but he turned around too soon. We packed his car with my things, and left for Gusow, where his parents live and where I stay to get over my jet lag... they're my family when I'm in Germany. Meanwhile... Andy got lost in Berlin, so the 1 1/2 hour trip to Gusow turned into 2 1/2 hours. I was starving meanwhile, having only had one airplane meal in 24 hours, so we stopped to get some genuine German food... a Doener. :D
It was good, and we eventually made it to Gusow. And here I am now, a few days later, writing this and trying to get used to being 7 hours in the future.
Altogether, I spent about 21 hours straight traveling Saturday and Sunday. I was up rather late the night before, packing my worldly possessions into boxes and moving out of the apartment I had been living in for almost a year, and packing my two suitcases that are supposed to contain everything I'd need for the next two years. I got about 5 hours of sleep heading into Saturday morning. Up at 7 a.m., at my sister's by 8, and left for the airport by 9. We got there a little before 11 a.m., and I started to check my bags in and get my ticket. The fact that I had to sit on my second suitcase the night before to get it to close should have been a good indication that I had packed too much in it... but I didn't think much about it at the time, I had just wanted to be done and get some sleep. As it turns out... checked luggage may weigh only 50 lbs. to avoid a $200 fee. Over 70 lbs. the fee jumps to $400. My second suitcase weighed in at a little over 71 lbs. Funnily enough, when the lady asked me if my bags were 50 lbs. or less I picked up the first one and curled it. I said, "Yep, that one's good." since I knew I couldn't curl more than 50 lbs. She looked at me funny, but when I tried to curl the second one and said, "Ah crap, this one is too heavy." She then pointed out there was a scale 2 feet from where I was curling my luggage. Turned out I was right, 44 pounds for the first bag, 71 for the second. I then took it aside and had to unpack 20 pounds of crap. The lady gave me a plastic bag to put the "extra" stuff in. It was harder than I thought to get rid of 20 lbs. of clothes. I have traveled internationally several times and never been over on the baggage, so this was a new experience for me. 20 minutes later, after going through everything in public, I weighed my bags in at 49.5 pounds, and 50.5 pounds respectively. I also got 2 carry-on items... and though the rules say you may only pack 16 pounds in them... I'm pretty sure I got away with about 40 pounds.
I got through security, and settled in to wait for my flights. First flight was Kansas City to Chicago, took about an hour and a half. I had plenty of room, and sat next to a guy from the Netherlands who was flying to Amsterdam to defend his thesis. We talked a bit, he was in Kansas to visit his sister who was doing a year exchange there. I think he left Kansas underwhelmed, but he was polite about it. I don't blame him, the Midwest isn't very exciting compared to international traveling in Europe... I can only get so excited about cows, corn, or sunflowers as far as the eye can see, so I don't hold it against anyone else when they aren't giddy in my home region. I told him I was going to Germany to study Linguistics, and he admitted that he spoke some German, and that he had been to Germany several times. I asked what he thought, and he said he liked West Germany, as he had been to Cologne several times, but that he wasn't a fan of East Germany, as the yearly conferences he had been attending in Cologne had been moved to Leipzig. I stated that it was amazing to me that even 20 years after the reunification, there were still great differences between former East and West Germany. He agreed, and proceeded to tell me about Leipzig and East Germany... Leipzig is a place I've spent a few weeks on a few occasions. As he was telling me about shrines to Hitler with flowers and such that he had seen there, I mentioned this little fact that I had been to Leipzig, to which he replied, "Yeah, yeah, the city is fine... but if you have to get gas outside the city..." and he proceeded to tell me how dangerous and scary it was. At this point, I decided I was done talking to him. I understand there is probably some lingering resentment from the invasion of Holland in WWII, and it's probably stronger in small towns like where Martijn is from, but this felt a lot like a guy pissing on my foot and telling me it was raining. I can't say for sure that he didn't see the things he said he saw, but I think it very unlikely.
Let me backtrack a bit... right after we took off from KC, as the plane was climbing and they started to pressurize the cabin, my right ear wouldn't pop. The pressure built until I thought my ear would explode, but of course it never did, I simply became dizzy. I thought the plane was turning, though in reality it was flying straight, my dizzy head was spinning. I tried looking out the window, and yawning, and every other trick I could think of for dizziness or a pressurized ear; nothing worked. I started to get sick to my stomach, and I realized that when I opened my eyes it looked like the plane was doing barrel rolls. All I could do was sit and close my eyes... finally my ear popped, painfully, after which it burned for a while... but within 5 minutes the would had stopped spinning. So it was at least halfway through the flight that I was able to relax and talk to the guy next to me.
I made it through Chicago without too much trouble... if you don't count the 4 times they put my computer backpack through security. In case you have ever wondered... they don't like it when you have 2 computers, 4 external hard drives, or various other things packed in your carry-on. They especially don't like it when you have a circuit board (motherboard to my desktop computer) bubble wrapped in your luggage and about 20 batteries in the pouches.
After that, I made it on board my second flight, Chicago to Sweden. The first couple of hours were fine, but after dinner, I wanted to sleep. The entire cabin shut off their lights, and got quiet, and tried to sleep. But not the woman behind me... her reading light was on the entire trip, which meant it shined on me for most of the trip. Also, she must have had a lot to say, because she spoke in Swedish the entire time. 245 people on the flight, and the one behind me is the only one that didn't want to sleep. So, I didn't get any sleep. Well, my brain didn't, after 3 hours my butt fell asleep... the kind of burning numb sleep it gets from sitting too long in one position.
Made it to Arlanda airport in Stockholm, where I saw a fairytale play-place for children. I was tired, grumpy, and probably more than a little angry... but it was the perfect thing to see. I liked it enough that I stopped, dug out my camera from my over-packed carry-on, and took pictures. It even put a smile on my face. It's those little moments when you realize the world is an okay place that I love.
Made it to Berlin, Andreas was late and my flight was early. I stood by the taxis outside for a while, but eventually went back inside to try to find a pay phone to call him. As I was walking to exchange my money, I saw him at another desk, asking the guy to page me in the airport. I snuck up behind him and tried to hit him with my suitcase... but he turned around too soon. We packed his car with my things, and left for Gusow, where his parents live and where I stay to get over my jet lag... they're my family when I'm in Germany. Meanwhile... Andy got lost in Berlin, so the 1 1/2 hour trip to Gusow turned into 2 1/2 hours. I was starving meanwhile, having only had one airplane meal in 24 hours, so we stopped to get some genuine German food... a Doener. :D
It was good, and we eventually made it to Gusow. And here I am now, a few days later, writing this and trying to get used to being 7 hours in the future.
Monday, March 26, 2012
Just another blog about another guy in another country
Thought I would write this to keep track of my stories and experiences, and to let anyone interested know where I am, and what I'm doing. I'm in the process of moving from Warrensburg to Freiburg, hence, the name. I'm traveling a bit the first couple weeks here to visit freinds and practice my German, so it'll probably be more exciting now, and a little less rampant later when I've settled down in Freiburg. Enjoy!
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