So This is Christmas....

Considering most of the people reading this live in the US and for the last month-plus certain radio stations have been playing nothing but non-stop Christmas music, I think it'd be safe to assume that you all are familiar with the song by John Lennon that goes "So, this is Christmas, and what have you done?"  If it's not sounding familiar, it also has children in it and is called "War is Over."  Still not sure?  Here's a link to the YouTube video.   In the last month the words of this song echoed many times in my head, not because Germany was overplaying it (unfortunately--I wish they would have), but rather because I kept thinking, perhaps a little bitterly, to myself, "So.  This is Christmas."

Christmas is a time for most people that is ripe with tradition and it is for me as well.  Of course, through the years the traditions have changed and evolved.  When my siblings and I were little, we had a cloth Advent's Calendar that hung from the coat closet with little pockets for the days.  Every day we would move the little stuffed animal mouse to the next day, taking turns between the four siblings of who got to move the mouse.  Christmas time also always meant a huge 1990s-style Tupperware container filled with my mom's delectable and irresistible Chex Mix.  It's funny to think on the years when that container of Chex Mix seemed to last for days...Now a batch of Chex Mix is lucky to the see the sunset.  Sure, that might say something about healthy eating in the Britain House during Christmas, but hey, it's Christmas!  

When I went to college the traditions around Christmas of course changed again because I wasn't home for the majority of Advent.  The first year at Elon a girl on my dorm floor downloaded a bunch of extremely random Christmas music and burned a CD to share with the other 35 girls on our floor.  A little later, my friends and I took one of our far-too-frequent trips to Target and bought Christmas decorations...in the form of purple, metallic, mini Christmas trees.  I still have mine.  Throughout the next three years that completely gaudy Christmas tree fused itself into my Christmas Traditions Memory Bank.  Setting up that tree and our other Christmas decorations became a valid Christmas tradition between my friends and me.  

This year, though, was destined to be different.  The reasons are so obvious that I do not need to waste space or time sharing them.  People were repeatedly surprised to hear that I would not be traveling home for Christmas.  Whenever I was asked I either gave the simple answer of "It's too expensive and I'm not supposed to," or I'd give the longer explanation of, "I'm really not supposed, but that's OK.  I want the culture experience of Christmas in Germany."  Which was true.  But I'd be lying if I said I did not once think about wanting to go home for the holidays.  All of my normal holiday build up was missing this year, with the exception of those songs downloaded four years ago by my dorm-mate.  Christmas Time in Germany really is something special, though, namely because of the Christmas Markets, which I have already extensively written about.  I visited the Bremen Christmas Market several times and each time I treated myself to some different Christmas treat.  The last time, on Friday the 23rd, I ate a "Quark Ball."  I'm really not sure what this is, but quark is a type of spread made from milk (therefore a distance relative of cream cheese) and the sphere of dough was fried and then rolled in sugar.  

This whole month I did what I could to try to convince myself that it was Christmas--between finding a 24-hour Christmas station online, buying festive wrapping paper and making cookies--but it still wasn't there.  I wasn't home and I realized that a replacement for the sounds and smells, the hugs from family and the family get-togethers is perhaps impossible to find.

It hit me very hard on the 23rd that I wasn't going home and I was officially the only Britain not at home for Christmas.  This is the first time I haven't been home for Christmas and only the second time in Britain-History that anyone has been missing for Christmas:  The other time was when Lara was in Germany eleven years ago.  The 23rd was actually a very pleasant day in terms of what I did--I went to the Christmas Market, I wrapped presents, I decorated the Christmas tree with my host parents and I had a small Christmas party with the other PPPlers in Bremen.  But the day was tainted by my reality.  By the time I got to the PPPler Christmas Party, however, had a little to eat and exchanged Secret Santa gifts with the others, my spirits were back up.  At some point in the day the words of "So.  This is Christmas." broke through my mind and I found myself thinking, this Christmas doesn't count--I'm writing it off.  This clearly wasn't really a Christmas-minded thing to say, but it was oddly freeing and comforting.

Given my submission to missing Christmas and having to settle on the substitute, I only weakly braced myself for the next three days of Christmas celebrations and was just going to accept what was coming and take it for what it was.  In retrospect, despite the negativeness of these thoughts, this may have actually been a fairly good idea because it finally pushed away the sadness and let me be more open to what was ahead.  On Christmas Eve morning I woke up and again thought, "So.  This is Christmas."  Christmas Eve in Germany is the big celebration day and the actual day and also the 26th are used for more eating and getting together with relatives.  This Christmas Eve I was invited by the Oertel Family (a host family from the language school phase who I've become close to) to brunch at a lovely restaurant.  For three-and-a-half hours in the morning into afternoon I ate and chatted with Oertels and another family.  For the Oertels brunch on Christmas Eve morning is a tradition and this year I got to share in it.  Perhaps if I ever spend another Christmas in Germany I can add that to a new list of German Christmas Traditions.  It was a completely wonderful way to start the day and I am extremely grateful to the Oertels for their generosity and compassion.  

The rest of the day was spent much like it would be at home--wrapping presents, cleaning up, preparing food and finally, going to church.  Even though I'm Protestant, this year I went to the Catholic Church because the majority of my host family is Catholic.  The service was certainly different, but nice.  I must admit, I am not a fan of the incense burned and mercilessly wafted through the air, but it was very funny to watch a woman of the church try to light the candles on the wall and continually (at least five times) lose the flame while walking between the candle holders.  That was probably the highlight of the service and certainly will stay with me!

After church we traveled back to the house and soon after ate a dinner of carp, salmon, one other fish (which I don't the name of), potato dumplings (which I helped make!) and sauerkraut.  Yep, I said it.  I'm in Germany and I ate sauerkraut.  It does happen, folks, but please don't take that as permission to tell everyone that "Meaghan eats lots of sauerkraut now because she's in Germany!"  To be honest, though, sauerkraut really is quite delicious, especially eaten with something sweet, such as the Polish Jewish Sauce of simmered dried-fruits and nuts that we ate with our meal.  

After long anticipation, the Christmas Man finally "came," lit the real candles on the tree and we were finally able to exchange gifts.  My mom had sent really nice gifts for the boys, Jörg and Ulla and we had a nice time of opening gifts and then taking pictures of said gifts.  When the candles on the tree finally burned themselves out a couple hours later, the Christmas festivities were over and I gratefully went upstairs to sleep and prepare myself for what would certainly be the much harder of the Christmas days.

My host family does not have a celebration on the actual day of Christmas, so my goal was to stay as busy as possible, which I successfully did.  Between going to church (this time Protestant!), time spent outside, and a little afternoon eating with another PPPler who is visiting Bremen for a few days, the day flew by.  Oh, and it also helped that I Skyped with my family three times.  Through Skype I opened my stocking "with" my family, opened my tree gifts, which were previously sent to me, and talked after Christmas dinner with our Christmas guests.  When looking into my computer into the den of my house I could truly almost believe I was there with my family.  Of course, looking into my periphery changed that, but something else very important happened in between Skype dates--After running, I stretched to Trans Siberian Orchestra videos on YouTube and chose to listen to Deck the Halls.  As the familiar chords of "Fa la la la la" played through my computer something finally fell into place inside me, and the glimmer of Christmas excitement and cheer finally took a breath and came to life.  Maybe it's because I haven't heard that carol this year or maybe because I've been able to sing that carol for as long as my family has been eating Chex Mix at Christmas, but it finally made me happy that it was Christmas.  

Christmas Day passed surprisingly easily and happily.  There was pangs here and there of wishing I was with my family--While we Skyped I could pretend I was there, but when I hung up I knew they were continuing to be together and I was still thousands of miles away celebrating a very new type of Christmas.  But the day passed and I truly had a great day, despite the changes.  

Today was the 2nd Day of Christmas and it went much like the 1st Day of Christmas for me, except I helped Ulla in the kitchen prepare our bigger meal of goose, duck, potato dumplings (once again and just as yummy), "Blau Kraut" (cut and cooked purple cabbage; also delicious) and caramelized carrots.  For this meal some relatives came over and it was nice to meet some of the Engelmann extended family because, up to this point, I had not met any relatives.  

It is now late in the evening and the Christmas festivities are officially over--Many people are going back to work tomorrow, the public transportation is running on normal hours again and the Christmas Market is long gone.  Healthy eating commences tomorrow and cookies will again be in short supply.  Germany stretches out the Christmas celebrations, but it is still over.  And now that it is over, I'm really happy I spent it in Germany.  Of course, my heart still wants to be with my family, watching our new movies at night and popping popcorn on the stove, but I feel like this Christmas successfully played the roll it always is supposed too:  Bringing family together.  Sure, this year I might have been with a different family, but after these three host family-packed days, I feel tangibly closer to my host family, which is something I have been longing for.  And thanks to Skype and the postal services, I was also able to be close to my irreplaceably chaotic, crazy and loving family back home.  So, the Christmas Spirit may have been a bit thin this year and a little late in arrival, but it came nonetheless and, when all is said and done, I had a great Christmas.  Most importantly, I also now have one more line for my Christmas mantra: "So.  This is Christmas.  Nicht schlecht.  :)

(So.  This is Christmas.  Not bad.)

'Tis the season for Lebkuchen and Glühwein

A week ago I got back from a long weekend in Nuremberg, Bavaria.  Even though it was already the Second Sunday of Advent, the trip down south for the Christkindlesmarkt (the Christmas Market in Nuremberg) marked the beginning of my Christmas season.

Christmas is a big deal in Germany.  They make up for the lack of "Black Friday," cheesy Christmas lights as far as the eye can see and 24/7 Christmas music radio stations by the extreme excess of full-fat, full-sugar and full-flavor foods everywhere.  Christmas, of course, is so wonderful because it provides everyone the excuse (which I don't actually need) to eat whatever sweet we want whenever.  Germany provides this vice in the form of the famous and lovely Christmas Markets, or Weihnachstmärkte.

The Christmas Markets in Germany started in the Middle Ages as a way for the village people to stock up on winter supplies.  Just like the Freimarkt in Bremen, over the next 400 years a lot can change:  Now we have stall upon stall selling everything imaginable--from candied almonds (remember, the same from Freimarkt?), bratwursts (who's surprised there?), leather goods, handmade wooden cutting boards to stuffed animals.  And please don't forget the main attraction at the Christmas Markets:  Glühwein.  Glühwein is mulled wein that often has extra fruit juice added.  It is served warm and, as a part of the Christmas Market tradition, in sweetly decorated mugs that for only 2.50 Euros, you can keep.  Every year the pattern of the mug changes and it has grown into some what of a collector's item.

Almost every single city of considerable size (which is many) has a Christmas Market, Bremen included, naturally (with 600,000 people, Bremen is the 10th largest city in Germany).  My first Christmas Market, though, was in Nuremberg, one of the oldest in Germany and one of the most famous in the world.  On Thursday, the First of December, I traveled the six hours south to Nuremberg where most of my friends from the language school phase met me, Ginny, Morgan and Alex.  You might remember that these are the same people I went to Amsterdam with and also Oktoberfest...That alone guaranteed that I'd have a wonderful weekend.

One of the most famous Nuremberg Christkindelsmarkt specialities is the lebkuchen, which is essentially the more popular, more likable older sister of gingerbread....i.e. absolutely incredible.  Nuremberg's lebkuchen is called "Elisen" lebkuchen and is famous because of it's low flour content and high nut content.  Bitting into a large, round, chocolate-covered piece of lebkuchen is a little like biting into a nice, dense piece of carrot cake, but with more nuts and far more Christmas-y flavors.  The ingredients include, in addition to the beloved sugar, are such things as almonds, hazelnuts, orange, lemon and other citrus peels, something with apricots,  honey and other spices.  I actually encourage everyone to read a little more about lebkuchen because it really is a very special German dessert and something I suggest to anyone who travels to Germany in the winter months.  Here is where I bought some handmade lebkuchen (the website can also be in English) http://fraunholz-lebkuchen.de/.  

Our days at the Christkindelsmarkt were spent going around trying various fruit/cake inventions, drinking a mug of Glühwein here and there and looking at all the sweet little trinkets to buy.  The Markt is in the Innenstadt, within the old walls of Nuremberg.  Nuremberg has an impressively large area within the walls, containing many beautiful, old, brown-stone buildings and even older timber houses, such as the Albrecht Dürer house.  Albrecht Dürer is perhaps Germany's most famous painters and he resided in Nuremberg for 20 years in the early 1500s.  His house is one of the oldest and longest-standing examples of half-timber houses in Germany and was miraculously unscathed throughout the war, despite the high percentage of destruction in Nuremberg.  Shadowed by the towering walls of the city and Middle Ages castle, the small square near the Albrect Durer house is completely enchanting and lends a small glance into what Nuremberg may have looked all those centuries ago.

Speaking of World War II destruction, though...Nuremberg was a very important city for Nazi rallies and the Nazi Party.  About ten minutes outside of the city walls lies the Documentation Center, which is a museum built into the side of the forever-unfinished arena originally constructed for Nazi rallies.  On Saturday afternoon we visited the Documentation Center in order to learn about the rise of the Nazi power, to which Nuremberg played an important role.  Along with the unfinished-arena, several other Nazi buildings once stood and were used for now infamous rallies and propaganda from that nefarious era.  It came to me as no surprised that this museum was completely fascinating and one could spend several hours within listening to all the different audio clips, watching the propaganda films and reading the plaques following the rise of the Nazi Party.  The highlight of Nazi architecture through the location of the museum was also very interesting--Everything about Nazi buildings were massive:  Towering, narrow arches, deep and wide staircases, oversized statues and stark, strong stone.  You may know some pictures from this era of the rallies, and another feature was always the enormous red, white and black flags as well as huge, baskets of fire on top of the pillars.  Everything produced by the Nazi Party sent a overwhelming message of domination and this powerful technique is highlighted effectively at the Documentation Center.  I highly recommend this museum for anyone thinking of visiting Nuremberg.  Nuremberg was also, of course, the site of the Nazi Tribunals after the War.  I did not visit the court house because it is still in use, but there is a museum there documenting that part of Nuremberg's long and dynamic history.

German cities with their architecture, people and history fascinate me--Only 70 years ago Nuremberg was a central point for the Nazi's rise to power, but now it is better known for its history stretching back in the 1200s as an important merchant town and its 400 year old Christmas Market.  Traveling around Germany, though, is often like that.  Bremen's own Christmas Market takes place directly under the watch of the almost 800-year-old Town Hall (Rathaus).  I find the history mixed with modernity in Germany (and much of Europe) endlessly interesting and exciting.  Even though the Christmas Markets are now powered by electricity and have every possible modern convenience, it is still easy to picture what it may have been like a few hundred years ago when these markets were used for winter preparation instead of consuming as much fat and chocolate as possible.

My weekend in Nuremberg with good friends who completely empathize with all the emotions that happen while abroad was completely refreshing.  Seeing those people, mixed with the infectious cheerfulness of Christmas sights and smells, was more than enough to make up for no Thanksgiving AND to pull me into the Advent time with a happy, full and relaxed heart.

Laugh a little.

As a follow up to the past few posts, this blog entry regarding how to enjoy and improve life speaks quite well to my life:

I sure have made a lot of mistakes in the last few weeks and if you want to count how many grammar mistakes I make every day, then I'm going to be amused until I'm 80!  If only grammar mistakes were a one time thing...

But business and pleasure really have a lot of business being together.  Business and pleasure go together like exercise and breathing--when doing the 20th forward lunge the breath can be hard to find, but once you breathe, you can actually make it through.  Even though sometimes parts of our life play antagonistic roles, they also have to co-exist.  This is important for me to keep as part of my life as I struggle from time to time with the purpose of certain things being so difficult.  Accomplishments are at the end if one really wants them to be, and that's what I'm keeping my eyes on...

German Uni....AHHH!

Well, I am officially a German Uni student and to accurately sum it up:  It sure ain't Elon.  This is truly the most accurate way to describe Uni Bremen.  Everything about Uni Bremen is different than Elon and as a three-week veteran, I'm not sure that's such a good thing.

Germans are typically very well educated people:  There are many more educational paths in Germany than in the United States.  In the US, our options are fairly limited to university, community college and on-the-job training.  Those options also more-or-less exist in Germany, but for those people who do not want to go to college or do not need to go to college, the chances of success are much higher.  These people usually still get a very good education through on-the-job training and academic training through a specific field or business.  The focus of study is much more concentrated, but when that person is done, he or she still has a very respectable education.

That being said, I want to extend my congratulations to every single German who ever manages to get through the system.  Bureaucracy takes on a new meaning in the German university system.  Organization, efficiency and protocols are all highly valued in the German culture, and normally I would support all three--I myself can be slightly neurotic at times.  BUT:  There is a very definitive point where efficiency for efficiency's sake works against itself.  I believe I have found that in the German Uni.  My adjustment to the German uni began in October when I took a language class there, and it is just now (November 15th) maybe coming to an end.

The best way to describe what being at a German Uni can feel like is the following.  Please try to put yourself into this situation, as a relatively confident and self-assured American, in order to understand:

When one registers for Uni Bremen she receives a student ID card.  This card is nothing more than a credit card-sized piece of paper with one's name, student number and other irrelevant details typed onto it.  This card, while needed for everything, actually does nothing.  Inevitably a student will want to use the library, but please be mindful that one is not allowed to take her belongings into the library.  Instead, one must take what she may need out of her backpack, stick it in a blue grocery basket and check the remainder at the coat check.  Do not dare bring your coat in.  At the library people normally want to use a computer.  Hold the phone.  One must first register with the library (I asked myself, I am a student, right?  Shouldn't I already be registered?).  To do that, one must first use the registration computer and enter all data about her life in Bremen then proceed to a desk.  At the desk one must present identification (which in my case had to be my passport), the resident registration with the town/state and the student ID card.  Upon successful presentation of said items, one receives a library card.  On the back of the card is a barcode that allows you to log onto the internet.  The code and password are completely different and unrelated to the email and password that already were established in order to register for classes.  Because one normally needs to print now and then, the library is the logical place.  When one logs onto to do so, a new roadblock appears:  One cannot pay for printing with the newly acquired library card. Nope, sorry.  Instead, to print, one must acquire a Mensa card, which is how you pay for food.  To do that one must go to a different office, which is only open a few hours a day, four days a week.  Upon purchase of Mensa card, you must then load money onto it with a different set of machines.  One might now be able to print if she can figure out that totally separate system.  

Now, I'm not stupid, but I'd like to meet the person who could easily remember the codes and passwords for three different sets of cards and situations.  I have never appreciated my Phoenix Card from Elon, which was used for entrance to buildings, paying for food, printing, identification and so much more, so much.  Uni Bremen has 19,000 students and Elon only had 5,000.  I would like to give Uni Bremen the benefit of the doubt that the relative chaos is due to size of the Uni, but wouldn't a large university want to have everything more streamlined?  There are so many processes at the Uni that I can't help but feel that they are all working against the efficiency of the others.  Yes, it certainly is organized and there are certainly protocols, but I think it's gone a little too far.

Now, I really do not want to complete insult the German Uni, because, besides the extreme bureaucracy, the important parts of the experience have been very positive.  The classes have so far been interesting and even though I'm not leaving the place as excited as I am after seeing the premier of a Harry Potter movie, I find the classes positive.  I am taking three classes, all in German.  It is remarkable easy to zone-out when all you're hearing is German and the effort to stay truly tuned-in the whole time is very difficult.  I find that I have no problem understanding what is being said in the moment, but my brain is working so hard to understand that moment, that it has a hard time connecting to the situation and understanding the context.  Once I lose the context of the conversation it is very hard to re-engage.

The people at the Uni are also very nice.  There are of course those frustrating people who enforce the bureaucracy and are quite unforgiving when you break protocol, but my interactions with the students and professors have been very positive.  There is also an organization called ERASMUS Initiative that organizes a whole slew of fun social events for international students.  The organization is very inclusive, has great events and makes a noticeable effort to make people feel included and welcomed.  I appreciate that a lot.

The system of the German Uni is what set me into the downward spiral of frustration mentioned in my previous post.  Adjusting to the Uni was undoubtedly the most confusing part of my time thus far, but I'm very confident similar examples will continue to happen.  Everything here needs an appointment or something similar, otherwise not much can happen.  It can be a very frustrating feeling for me, as an American who grew up in a more-or-less relaxed culture.  Of course, when we compare American culture to certain other cultures we are a very uptight and stiff culture, but certain things are more relaxed.  If I have learned anything over the last month besides German it is that in Germany I should always stand in line and make sure I'm standing in the right direction--If there is a sign that says stand to the right and you're standing behind the person in front of you, you will be cut by the three people behind and you will receive no sympathy for the five minutes you're losing.  I hate to say that my experiences here are making me less self-assured, because that's opposite of the purpose, but it has made me realize that one has to adjust to the new system.  It doesn't matter what that system is, but I suspect it is always tied very closely to culture. My year here is about living the German culture and if that means I have to slow down, remind myself that I don't know how to automatically do everything and stand behind that line, in line, even though there is no one in front of me, then that is what I need to do.

See, the German education system really is very good.

October, a direct continuation--The more fun side

Every year for the last 976 Ischa Freimarkt has happened in Bremen.  Freimarkt is a huge festival that has an Oktoberfest vibe, but is much smaller and visited by many more Germans than tourists—that’s a point for Freimarkt.  Freimarkt started out as what it phonetically sounds like—a free market.  This market was free from several normal restrictions imposed by the emperor and was held twice a year.  The October date became particularly successful because of its proximity to winter and eventually more entertainment populated the market.  Now the only vendors to be seen are those selling potato puffers (Kartoffeln Puffers), which are shredded and fried potatoes served most traditionally with apple sauce (Apfelmuss), stir-fryed mushrooms (Champigons…which smell unbelievable), bratwurst, roasted almonds (gebratene Mandeln) or practically any amazing-smelling food your heart could ever desire.  Needless to say, part of the lure of Freimarkt is eating.  There are also large tents that sell beer and have live music, like at Oktoberfest, and of course a whole host of rides.  Like American festivals, many of these attractions travel and the ferris wheel is the largest mobile ferris wheel in Europe!  Despite my fear of heights, I did ride it, allowing for cool views of Bremen. 

            Freimarkt is ripe with tradition. (as anything would be after 976 years!  Everyone close to my family knows how many traditions we have for Popham Beach and we’ve only been going 18 years…).  On the second Saturday of Freimarkt was the  Umzug (parade).  On the beautiful fall day I went to the Umzug with a small group of friends and watched for two-and-a-half hours as float after float after float passed by and literally bombed the onlookers with candy…another Freimarkt tradition!  We stayed for 140 floats and there were still more as far as I could see.  I forgot to bring a bag to collect all the candy (or Bönchen), but most of the little kids did not.  It was so sweet to see the little kids with a massive clothing shopping bag more than half full of bonbons.  As I left the Umzug I was very grateful I am not responsible for those children and their candy consumption for the rest of the month.

            Another highlight of October was going to Munich with my friend Nadine, her mom and her mom’s best friend for the “Vereidigung” of Nadine’s brother.  Nadine’s brother is the Luftwaffe and after the first three months the soldiers must decide if they want to continue along that path.  The Vereidigung is when they publically declare that they will serve and protect Germany.  Very few people get to go onto the Luftwaffe base and the Vereidigung is one of the few exceptions.  It was a completely fascinating and unique experience.  I know very little about our own military, which that weekend showed me, but to me it is, on the surface, one of the most patriotic things one can do for their country.  Germany is not a country that puts much value on patriotism; therefore I found it very interesting to watch this ceremony from an American’s perspective.  If one were to ask me, I would say being a part of the any military, despite one’s reasoning, is a patriotic act.  One thing that I was questioned about in October was American patriotism.  I believe many non-Americans find our patriotism strange, but upon reflection, I don’t think it’s a bad thing.  Patriotism to me is appreciating what American citizenship has given me and that is so much more than many countries can ever hope for.  Yes, along with patriotism should come humbleness and self-awareness, but I do think it’s important to take pride in your country and recognize, with humility, the fortune we have as Americans. 

            One last crazy thing about October—my bike got locked in the center of the city.  I was eating dinner with a couple of friends and when I went to ride home I could not unlock my bike—the key could no longer go into the lock.  Most people in Bremen worry about the opposite problem—bike theft—but on this Monday night (actually the Day of German Reunification), I was faced with the opposite problem.  To make it “funnier,” my host parents were in Italy.  After three days of thinking, I finally had the time to go to the police station and explain my problem.  Here’s a sample of the conversation:
Me:  Um, yes, hello.  My bike is locked in the center of the city—by the pigs.  [There is a pig statue]
Police:  Really, hmm.  Well, you need to cut it off.
Me:  Yes, I know, but it’s a really big lock.
Police:  A pair of lock cutters should be enough.
Me:  No, I don’t think so.  It’s a really big lock, and my host parents aren’t here so I don’t have a pair.
Police:  Do you have neighbors??
Me:  Yes, of course I do…but’s a really, really thick lock.  It’s, like, probably 5 centimeters thick [this was after anxiously estimating what I can remember of how big a centimeter is].
Police: OK [sounding exasperated]...Stay there, we’ll send some people.

I was vindicated 10 minutes later when the police came with the lock cutter (which I could instantly tell was too small), took one look at the lock and declared, “Wow, that’s a properly thick lock!!”  After 10 more minutes of unsuccessfully cutting through the lock another police office completely apparated and magically had the ability to cut through that “properly thick” lock.  Within two minutes I was cruising on my way back home, one lock down, but luckily not one bike down. 

            October was not a month of loud, exciting adventures, such as Amsterdam and Oktoberfest, but I think it was an extremely important month.  Being abroad is not supposed to be easy, despite how cool it seems.  Yes it is cool, but it’s not easy and I think it’s important for one to acknowledge that.  I understand that to observers it might be hard to believe me when I say it’s hard—I do make it seem pretty glamorous through the pictures and blog posts.  But it really is the craziest roller coaster I have ever been on and my prior international experience did not even prepare me for this.  Along those coaster tracks were great moments, moments that made me want to scream and moments of balance and relative peace.  The ups-and-downs of October undoubtedly came with the international territory, but what really matters is how you feel when you arrive back in that roller coaster station—Are you eager to rejoin the line for the second (or fourth) ride, or do you need to get off and get the heck outta there?  Luckily, for me I don’t have much choice and all the positive moments are enough to make me want to choose the former.  

October--The Serious Side

October was a month of change—Truly from the first day until the last with the start of German Uni.  The month started with my friends from the first phase of my program leaving Bremen for a new city.  All but me and another girl left Bremen and then 4 new people came.  This month was a little like the roller coasters at the huge, traditional Bremen festival Freimarkt—One moment things were up and literally 30 seconds later they could be careening downward in a mass full of frustrated and explosive inertia. 

To the neutral observer, I am living the post-college dream--Move to another country for a while, meet new people and most importantly procrastinate becoming an adult.  I will admit, I'm pretty dang lucky, and I am living a dream.  For a long time going overseas was in the back of my brain.  So yes, I am undisputedly lucky, but there is no denying, though, that any post-grad is going to have tough times being away from home, friends and adjusting in general.  When I was excitedly planning on ditchin’ the US, I did not fully appreciate what it means to leave college friends.  I now understand what you can never truly grasp when you’re still with your friends—When you are no longer in college, you will miss your friends, and you will be surprised in how many ways.  Add an Atlantic Ocean and you’ve got yourself a challenge. 

Through the last two months something very interesting had been missing from my thoughts and feelings—the feeling of being foreign.  October changed that.  Because Uni Bremen didn’t start until the last week of October so I took another language class.  Unlike my CASA language classes, in this class I was one of only three Americans.  This had an interesting effect on me.  In class I was surrounded by young people from all over Europe—from Slovenia to Norway.  All these people come from different cultures and customs, but they have something I do not have:  They are Europeans.  Sure, each European country is vastly different, but they are still Europeans, just like Germans.  I, however, am not.  I can never be a European; it’s impossible.  All of sudden the missing thought hit—I am foreign.  I am not German and I’m not even European.  This means I am perhaps the most foreign person in the class.  If I think of myself as foreign, then surely everyone I have met already considers me that.  I think about all the exchange students from high school and college and realize I am that new person that everyone knows is foreign and probably calls “the exchange student,” without really remembering the actual name.   

            Perhaps being foreign is not important to some people, but I think it is important here.  Sure, if I wanted I could move to Germany, find work, improve my painfully obvious American accent (I’d be rich if I had a dime for every time someone says to me, “You’re American right?  I could tell by the accent.”) and integrate.  But the “foreigner” title is something harder to shake.  At the beginning of October I watch Turkish dance at a Turkish appreciation event in the middle of the city.    By the end of their exhibition at least 9 members from the audience were up on the stage dancing with the girls.  Integration is a very big theme in Germany and much of Europe.  Along with the expectation of integration comes the question of how much of one's own culture one should give up.  As I watched the dancers and audience members I felt like it was a special moment.  These girls were doing something special from their culture, but sharing it with the community.  In return, the audience embraced their contribution and joined in with their own version.  This really made me think about my own integration in Germany.  In an earlier post I talked about if an American could ever be German, but now I’m wondering how much an American should want to be completely German.  Despite the negative things said and assumed about Americans in much of world, don’t we have valuable parts of our culture that should be preserved?  I definitely think we do.  I am a foreigner, but that might not always be a bad thing.

            During the month of October I spent a lot of time in my own head and had conflicting feelings about my own national identity and adjusting to German culture.  Even though I’ve been here for over 100 days now, I know that I experienced more culture shock in October than before.  It’s an interesting feeling thinking constantly about a language, trying constantly to blend in and finally realizing that where you are is not your home.  Sure, it’s a home for now, but how can one feel at home when she simultaneously feels so foreign?  

Cooking Adventures

 It has been a while since I have posted anything, and I think it's about time I get back into the blogging mode.  Even though this study abroad experience is for a much different purpose than when I was in Ireland (travel versus actually living), I have had no shortage of new experiences.  Since you all already know that I love food (it's not too hard to figure out), I thought I'd share my experiences making food in Germany.

I very much enjoy cooking, but especially baking.  I love to see how the batter changes with every ingredient and how it becomes closer and closer to the final product.  I have never tried to bake anything extremely complicated at home or here in Germany, so I usually have very few problems.  In Germany, however, even the simplest recipes here can be tricky.  New country, new challenges.

Since arriving, I have baked a birthday cake, chocolate chip cookies, carrot cake (once as a cake, once as cupcakes) and pumpkin bread (twice).  Out of the six times I've baked, only once was the result close to what it would have been in the US.  It was about a year-and-a-half ago when I became interested in baking and cooking and since then I have learned much about the culinary arts; usually what I learn is what to do better.  In the last two-and-a-half months in Germany, everything I've learned has been what not to do.

Cookies, cakes and quick breads are perhaps the easiest desserts to bake, but as I have recently learned, even the easiest of recipes can easily be messed up.  This is how to mess-up a recipe in Germany:

1.  The ingredients:  What is rapeseed oil anyway?  And is it that different than sunflower oil?  They both look the same.  Why can't I just use the age-old standby, vegetable oil?  Oh, that's because they don't have that here, or, at least not to my intermediate-level-German mind's knowledge.  Speaking of ingredients they don't have--Can I have some All-Purpose Flour please?  Flour in German is categorized by numbers from 400 and above and needless to say, these numbers mean absolutely nothing to me.  Grocery shopping usually goes like this:
"Um, excuse me?" I say to a sales-clerk that has no idea what she is getting into by talking to me.
Me: "What do these numbers...uh...mean? "
Sales-clerk: "They are different types of flour."
Me: "OK, well, I am making...I mean, I make a cake [that's correct German grammar translated into English].  Which..um...flour? should I use?"
Sales-clerk: "Uh-huh.  OK.  450 is good."
 Me:  "So, that's, uhh, good for cakes, and cookies...and et cetera?  I don't want to make bread"
SC:  "Exactly."
Me:  "OK, great, thanks.  Now, do you have baking powder?"
SL: "Of course we have baking powder."
Me:  "OK, right.  Well, actually I don't need baking powder.  It's only called that in English, but it's something different--It's American baking powder, but it is called something different here.  Not baking powder.  We use it for...like...cake?  I don't actually know how it's different."
SC: "Well we have baking powder."
Me:  "Is that all?"
SC: "I'm not sure what you mean..."
Me (flustered and red):  "Um, yeah, me either, actually.  OK, no problem.  Thanks for the help.  Oh by the way, do you have brown sugar??"

As you can see, grocery shopping for ingredients here can be an endless cycle of confusion.  I did eventually find American baking powder, but like most things, I usually have to have a very long and confused conversation with someone before we come to a conclusion.  When I made carrot cake a very similar situation happened.  Try looking for creamed cheese in Germany--It will be a scavenger hunt:
First, dairy aisle.
Second, look for cheese.
Third, is it the hard cheese or soft cheese aisle?  If it's soft,  you're in the wrong aisle (I know that does not make any sense).
Four, check to see what the fat content is.
Five, Oh you found Philadelphia Cream Cheese!  Cool!  But sorry, it only comes in flavors, and vegetable cream cheese frosting just won't taste good.  Go back to step four.
Six, you found something like it?  Awesome.  Now how much fat content does it actually have?  Only 60 percent--sorry no good.
And so on.

At the age of 22, I'm fairly used to grocery stores and what they sell.  Moving to another country, though, sets you back by about 15 years.  I am that seven year-old again, who, when her mom sends her to find a food, has to go back to the aisle three or four times before finding the right thing.  Or I am that strange person who spends way too much time in front of the same display, looking much too engrossed by the bags of flour.

2.  The measurements:  As Americans, we know that our measuring system is pretty messed up.  I have asked myself so many times since arriving in Germany why we are the only country who just could not accept the world-standard of measurements.  Did our country's organizers realize what a disservice they were doing to the future of their country's people?  Ask any science major and I'm sure they'll have plenty to say about it.  Included in this measuring system is how we measure ingredients.  I brought along with me from home a liquid measuring cup, but sadly I am lacking dry ingredient cups and spoons.   That leaves me to deal with the European strategy for baking--Measuring with a scale.  To make this more interesting, my host mother's scale is not digital and was probably produced in the 1970s or 80s.  I seriously doubt its accuracy.  To bake something here, I have to convert the recipe to the best of my non-science ability (thank goodness for AllRecipes.com and its conversion scale) and then measure as accurately as possible on a scale, whose most accurate measurement is increments of 20 grams.  The scale is not too much of a problem until I want to measure only 8 grams of the important ingredients--such as baking powder/soda.  The problem with a non-digital scale that only measures in increments of 20 grams is that, when it comes to measuring a very important and exact 8 grams of leavening agent, the scale hardly registers there is anything there at all.  To add to the fun, the little packets of the baking soda/powder aren't always marked with how much the contents weigh.   Being completely not used to the metric system added to my lackluster equipment make for some very questionable guesswork.

4.  The oven  Celsius + Crazy oven settings depicted only in pictures (what, may I ask, do just two lines mean??) + non-American pans = More guesswork.

5.  Not following the recipe.  OK, I'll admit, I can't blame the new grocery stores, measuring system or crazy oven settings for this one.  This is just my age-old problem of not completely reading the directions coming back to haunt me.  It still doesn't help my cooking cause, though.

So, yes, it is true that most of what I have baked here was either too moist, such as the pumpkin bread whose consistency was somewhere between bread and very solid gelatin; too dry, such as the cookies, which were baked with a close relative of bread flour and raw sugar instead of brown sugar; or just completely different, like the cream cheese frosting, which would more probably be called "incredibly-sugary-yogurt."  However, there is also the occasional triumph, such as the carrot cake I made last week: It had the proper amount of ingredients, perfect cake consistency and frosting that was almost as solid as it should be, thanks to the most fat-packed cream cheese I could find.  It is always embarrassing for a cook to make something that does not turn out right.  It can be even more embarrassing when said cook is trying to prove to her host family that she does know how to cook and does know how to properly combine ingredients.  Therefore, the small successes are even better and of course, sweet (get it?).  Cooking in general can always be interesting, but I now know that cooking in a new country is not just interesting, but undoubtedly lands itself in the "adventure" category.

My new tools, specifically the scale on the left and the Kaiser Natron, which is American baking powder.

Measuring pumpkin with the scale

A Success Story:  Birthday Cake

A Success Story: The Sequel--Carrot Cake

All about the Kleinigkeiten

As I have already mentioned many times in this blog, living abroad can be a really different experience or it can feel fairly similar.  Having a routine with classes--that is similar.  Speaking a new language, eating some new foods, living with people that two months ago I had never even heard from...those type of not-so-small things are not the same.  I have discovered in the last two months many little things have occurred, which balance out the big things.  The word "Kleinigkeiten" in German roughly means, the details or little things.  Until you're in a new situation, like college, a new city or studying abroad (or all three rolled in one), you might not notice how the little Kleinigkeiten can make a huge difference.  The following is a list of Kleinigkeiten--some of which make me laugh, some of which make me feel like I'm welcomed in Germany and some just simply random--from the past two months.

1.  German chocolate/food/bread  I have already touched on my German food experience, but I don't think I've adequately expressed my appreciation for the chocolate and bread.  I am 100 percent positive this will not come as a surprise, but German bread and chocolate are amazing and for someone who could live off of both, it's particularly delicious.  Bremen has its own famous chocolate maker, Hachez, which is not difficult to adore.  Fresh bread almost every day is also a bread-lover's dream.  The other day I bought a "monche-baguette" on my way to a movie night at my language school.  I really have no idea how a monche-baguette is different from a normal baguette...Normally at the baker I simply pick a sign in the vicinity of the bread I want and usually I receive the opposite of what I intended--Bread adventures!  Either way, the bread is always good and when I bit into my piece of the monche-baguette I actually involuntarily thought, "Thank you, God, for inventing white bread."  I kid you not--My bread obsession might actually be a fetish now.  I'm definitely in trouble.

2.  When Bus 33 comes instead of 34  When I take 34 I have to walk 7 extra minutes to my house, but with 33, it's almost as close to my house as the school bus was in those sad, school-bus-taking days.  When you're exhausted and are walking roughly as fast as a unstable two-year-old, the 33 bus is really appreciated. 

3.  Charly the Dog  My host family has a dog Charly, and while he's not as awesome as my two puppy-dogs, Charly is a pretty good second for the year.  Charly is a big, red, Irish Setter and he has definitely become my pal.  Charly and I run together, I give him treats and I always pet him when I come home; therefore I am also Charly's pal.  It's nice how easy it is to win the affection of a dog.  Charly is also an impressive dog.  I'm most impressed by how he can open doors with a flat handel instead of a knob.  I discovered this one day when there was I thunder storm and I was alone.  I was in my bathroom and the door was closed and next thing I knew the door was opening and in came Charly, much to my surprise.  At first I thought it was the Japanese student that was living with us at the time, but no, it was poor Charly, afraid of the thunder.  

4.  Talking with my host family  It is a kind of funny thing when the most exciting part of your day is talking with your host family in German, but on so many days it really is.  It is an amazing feeling holding a conversation in another language and realizing halfway through that you're actually doing it.  It's so satisfying and it makes it worth the mass amount of effort.  It also is such a happy feeling being included in conversation and feeling that the family is interested in me.  Living with a host family is a really strange concept, when one really thinks about it, and little moments of conversational victory are really important.  A definite Kleinigkeit.

5.  Rittersport Slogan  Rittersport is easily some of the BEST chocolate I have eaten.   The variety of flavors and unbeatable deliciousness of each one is one of the biggest perks of living in Germany.  To make Rittersport even more lovable, though, is its extremely German and extremely funny slogan, "Practical.  Square.  Good."  For those of you who have never had Rittersport, it comes in a big square and the packaging makes it easy to break the chocolate exactly in half while simultaneously opening the plastic.  This packaging is indeed practical and yes, it is also indeed square.  These are two things one could easily observe and perhaps would not be advertised in the US.   However, we're talking about Germany and in Germany practicality and logic are highly valued.  This would explain why instead of advertising how unbelievably delicious Rittersport is as the first characteristic, the chocolate company has decided instead to advertise just how logical its chocolate is.  Needless to say, the Americans in my group find this extremely amusing, especially after observing other ways Germans promote practicality and logic in most facets of life.

6.  Getting a bike  Most people would probably be indifferent about getting a bicycle, but not me.  No, when I got my bicycle I was definitely as excited as a 16-year-old getting their first car, crappy or not.  My bike arrived and I instantly wanted to ride it.  Waiting for my host dad to oil it and tune it up was like a little kid waiting to open presents on Christmas--in short, I was very inpatient.  My bike is a funny little thing, too.  Until last night, the squeaking of the handle bars negated any need for a bell (which all bikes need here--see post about Amsterdam).  When I rode down the street I always passed people looking directly at me and my squeaky bike.  As I rode past I heard mutterings, which I strongly suspect were about my squeaking, peace-disrupting bike.  It really is a wonderful thing to have a bike in Bremen, considering it is so flat and having a bike makes it much easier to get around.  My house here is relatively far from the middle of the city and normally I have to time my trips carefully around the bus and tram schedules.  Not anymore, though, I've got wheels and I feel the freedom. :)

7.  Peoples' hair colors  In the last two months, I have truly been impressed and also slightly appalled by some of the hair colors I have seen here.  Not only do some of the hair colors defy the laws of nature, but they also only match other unnatural things, such as Crayola markers.  My personal favorite colors have been the dark purple and florescent pink.  I have also see neon orange, but I prefer the pink and purple.  Clearly some people in Bremen have a lot of confidence to choose those hair colors, and for that I suppose I should respect them.  That's not to say, though, I can't laugh behind my book, too. 

8.  Werder Bremen fans  Just like any proud city, the people in Bremen are very proud of their sports teams, more specifically the soccer team Werder Bremen.  I myself am becoming a Werder fan and I even have a scarf, which means I can be a real fan!  Soccer fans are famous for their passion and perhaps more famous for their insanity.  I understand this more and more every time I see a two-year-old wearing a Werder hat or jersey.  A little boy I now babysit for even has a metal Werder bread tin that he carries in his teeny-tiny Werder backpack.  This little boy also likes to dance to the Werder Bremen fan songs.  In short, the little mini-Werder fans are much cuter and lovable than the big, scary, German-screaming fans, but I love the spirit all the same.  

So there you have it, a little taste of what I see from day to day or what makes me smile.  People always say it's the little things in life that are important; I am finding that that is never truer than when living abroad.  

Oktoberfest--More than the pints.

I don't think I've laughed so hard in months.  My muscles actually hurt throughout the Oktoberfest weekend.  We started laughing right from the beginning of our expedition to Oktoberfest this past weekend.  Right from the arrival in Munich when we started talking about coiffed and uncoiffed arm hair until the last day when Morgan (one of my travel-mates) got evidence of me sleep-talking, we laughed.  A good travel group is one of the most important aspects of travel to me, and for Oktoberfest Weekend, I was fortunate enough to have the wonderful travel group of Morgan, Alex and Isabel.

Last time I was in Europe (for my semester in Ireland), I did not really have any desire to go to Oktoberfest.  This time, though, the opportunity was too perfect to say no to.  Alex's aunt lives in Munich so we had free accommodations and with the knowledge that this could be my only, easy opportunity to get to Oktoberfest, I knew I had to go.  I made the right decision.

We arrived Friday afternoon to beautiful, almost-summer like weather.  After we settled into Alex's aunt's apartment, we set back out for some site seeing with our tour guide (Alex's aunt).  The weather was perfect for some gorgeous, crystal clear views of Munich.  Munich is the third largest city in Germany and it certainly feels larger than Bremen.  Whereas Bremen only has a street tram and buses (which are very good), Munich has a subway owned by the city, another subway owned by the German train company, street trams and buses.  Like Hamburg, though, despite its size and my disorientation, Munich felt relatively cozy and friendly.  Getting a taste of a new city made me a little envious that I will only be experiencing one city in depth this year, while most of the others in my program will experience two.  I am not sad, however, that I get to deal with northern Germany prices all year.  Munich is quite southern in Germany and as one travels further south, the prices increase noticeably.  Add a huge tourism event, such as Oktoberfest, and you definitely get price inflation.

On Saturday, we rose early to experience all things "traditionally Munich." Before we left the apartment, Alex's aunt prepared us a common Bavarian breakfast for a good "Grundlage," or basis, in our stomachs.  As I have mentioned before, bratwurst is a very popular food in Germany and even though many Germans will argue that Bavaria is not really part of Germany (it did once want to secede, after all), bratwurst is also popular in Bavaria.  However, the bratwurst here is called "Weißwurst," or white-wurst.  This type of bratwurst is made of veal instead of the commonly used pork and has a milder taste than most wursts.  Served along with it, though, is a very special type of mustard that has a distinctly sweet taste.  I have never, ever, been someone who likes mustard and if it weren't for the fear of appearing rude, I probably would never have tried it this time either.  I did try it, though, and it was surprisingly delicious.  Some people really do not like Weißwurst, which I find slightly surprising.  Historically, I have been a fairly picky eater so I am always so surprised when I like something that other people don't--I kind of figure if I like, everyone must!  Weißwurst is proving me wrong.  Along with our Weißwurst we also ate pretzels.  Of all the seemingly weird things Americans eat for breakfast (need I mention bacon, cinnamon rolls, pancakes, etc?), I do not think I'd ever think to eat pretzels.  That's obviously because big, soft, salty pretzels are not as beloved as they are here in Germany, but particularly in Bavaria.  Alex's aunt said that anywhere further of northern Bavaria you can't find a proper pretzel.  All I have to say to that is Hmph.  I like the pretzels in Bremen.  Another funny thing about breakfast was our (the American's) idea to put Nutella on our pretzels, obviously to simulate a chocolate covered pretzel.  Alex's aunt found this idea just ridiculous, which I found a bit ridiculous myself!  Germany is a country that loves chocolate and loves pretzels and bread--why not combine the two delicacies?  Clearly my misunderstanding shows the American in me.

After our very substantial "Grundlage," we headed to the Wiesn (which means meadow in German), where Oktoberfest is.  I would absolutely recommend Oktoberfest to any traveler, whether he/she enjoys beer or not.  There are so many people from all over this world at this 200-year-old festival and the people watching was tremendously entertaining.  Oktoberfest, to my surprise, is not just the brewery tents, but actually an enormous fair that someone can enjoy without ever sipping on a giant beer.  As an additional note, the so-called "tents" are about as opposite from tents as you can get.  They are actually firmly established buildings that have been elaborately decorated and crammed with tables and benches.  The only resemblance these buildings, which were built two months ago (they aren't there the rest of the year!), have to tents are the the draped fabric hanging from the ceiling within.  

We attended Oktoberfest on the first day and therefore we got to see the parade of brewers and the official opening ceremonies of Oktoberfest.  Before 12 pm on Saturday absolutely no one could have a beer because the first keg had not been tapped.  At exactly 12 pm the first keg was tapped, the first Maß (the name of the giant pint glasses) was poured and canon shots were fired to tell everyone they could officially being to drink.  After walking around for a while and enjoying some candied almonds (the smell is intoxicating), we settled in the Paulaner tent for the rest of the day.  I was very surprised around 10:30 pm when everyone left and the servers began to clean up the tent.  I asked Alex's aunt why Oktoberfest closes so early and the answer makes a lot of sense.  Munich does not want a bunch of people who are unfamiliar with the city to be wandering around in the wee-hours of the morning.  Even though the tents would earn so much more money if they stayed open late, they very logically close early to keep people safe and encourage people to stop drinking.  I was actually quite surprised and impressed with the safety measures of Oktoberfest.  In addition to the early closing time, in order to order beer you must have a spot at a table and you absolutely cannot leave the tent with any beer in your hand.  With these sort of safety measures it makes sense why Oktoberfest has become something little three- and four-year-olds can take field trips to with their Kindergartens--because it really is not just about the beer.

On Sunday we woke up to heavy rain, but we still made the best of the day and saw the Olympic Stadiums from the 1972 Olympics and later the Nymphenburg Palace and its beautiful gardens.  We also saw where Alex is going to live when he moves in Munich this weekend.  Munich really is a beautiful city and despite my two previous visits, it's a place very much worth visiting more than once.

On Monday we revisited Oktoberfest and reluctantly left in the afternoon for our 5 hour train ride back to Bremen.  Despite wanting to stay longer, it was good to leave when we did, but we all left with laughs still bubbling out of us and the feeling that Oktoberfest should happen every weekend.  The combination of a hilarious travel group, endless new people to meet, wonderful hospitality from Alex's aunt and a lovely city, Munich left us not with the taste for beer, but rather the taste for more travel to Germany's beautiful cities and more incredibly cool and historic festivals.

I don't know Dutch, but I know it sounds funny.

           The other day a friend in my group made the comment that she had a very busy weekend and was very tired.   She said to me, “I don’t know how you guys do it, you’re always doing something.”  This is actually relatively true.  “I couldn’t do it,” she continued.  “I don’t have the energy.”  This got me thinking, how do we keep up our relatively busy pace?  The other day as I munched on some sort of sugar, the answer hit me: Sugar.  I have never been someone with an iron-will against sugar and I also seem to be gifted with the talent of finding sugar wherever I go, often for free.  Some people might call this mooching, but I know it’s not—I’m simply opportunistic. 

            I made it through college without becoming addicted to caffeine and I didn’t even drink that much soda.  Looking back on these days (which are so far gone…) I realize that the same chemical compound kept me going through those days too.  At Elon, I had Student Union Board to fuel my growing sugar addiction.  The SUB office was a wonderful room full of distractions from homework, lack of productivity and most importantly, sweets or candy.   Unfortunately, in Germany there are not as many opportunities for free sugar, but there sure are lots of delicious and inexpensive candy bars.  And when a scoop of Italian gelato is only .80 Euros, how can I not want two or three?  Additionally, I receive a food stipend from the PPP program, so really, all of it kind of is free. 

            Anyway, last Friday morning, a group of my friends and I took a train to Amsterdam, not knowing what amazing sugary treat was waiting for us there.  When we arrived in Amsterdam Isabel met us at the train station (she left the day before) and introduced us to stroopwaffels.  Stroopwaffels are two sugary flat waffle cookies held together by sticky syrup, honey and cinnamon.  The result is one of the most flavorful cookies I have ever had.  My grandfather had a saying for something you instantly want more of:  “It has a more-ish taste.”  Stroopwaffels define this expression.  I had found my sugar supply.

            Later that day we took a tour through Amsterdam.  For the next three hours we were guided through Amsterdam’s narrow streets, canal system and Red Light District.  Before we began our tour guide warned us about Amsterdam’s pick-pocketers and the even more foreboding bicyclists.   For anyone that has been to Europe, you are probably familiar with the bike lanes that run parallel to the sidewalks.  They may only be distinguished by a different pattern or color of stones, but crossing over that fine line is essentially risking your life.  If you are in the way of a bicyclist, they do not do the logical thing and slow down.  No, instead they ring their little bell as if it had some sort of mighty, magical power.  These bells might be ordinary pieces of metal, but the Power of the Bell is real.  When I hear a bell my heart beat spikes and I literally jump out of the bike lane.  Bicyclists do not mess around and therefore I don’t either.   Well, before we set off for the tour, our tour guide had one little piece of advice regarding bicyclists:  Get out of their way; they have all the trump cards.  No more than five minutes later we were walking through a street, I was looking up at a building, my view was obscured by the people in front of me and what happens?  I’m hit by a bike.  No fear, nothing too scary, but really, what better way to look like a tourist than ignore what your tour guide tells you not to do.  Classic tourist behavior.  Go me. 

            OK, moving on. 

Amsterdam is one seriously cool city.  Most people know it as a city that has legalized prostitution and decriminalized marijuana, but it goes without saying that there is so much more.  Amsterdam was hardly physically damaged in the world wars and therefore its architecture is very well preserved.  Looking down an Amsterdam street, one cannot help but notice that the buildings are either crooked, lopsided or leaning into the street.  Of course the buildings weren’t built that way, but Amsterdam is below sea level, so the ground is very soft.  While this might be a perpetual problem for the city, it’s pretty fun to feel like you’re in a Disney-created, Harry Potter-esque world.  Adding to the mystique of the city is how high and narrow the buildings are.  Historically, the city determined property tax by how wide, not tall, the buildings were.  This instantly explains why all the buildings are only four windows wide at a maximum, but five or six stories high. 

            Another highlight of the weekend was becoming one of the thousands of people who take their picture with the “I AMsterdam” sign.  This sign has not always been a part of the Amsterdam cityscape.  Five or so years ago the city wanted to alter its image from a city of prostitution and pot to one of culture and history—both of which of course existed before the liberalization of the city in the 1950s and 60s.   The result was the “I AMsterdam” concept as a spinoff of “I <3 New York.”  After a relatively low-budget campaign, the concept took off.  So much so that I first saw this sign in the Amstel Light commercials while watching the Red Sox on TV in New Hampshire.  Another fun fact:  The Netherlands once controlled New York City, but gave it to the English in exchange for the tiny country of Suriname in South America.  Hindsight is always 20/20.

            Since I know food is sometimes more interesting than history, I’ll share a little about Dutch food.  There is not actually an overly large variety of exclusively Dutch food, but Amsterdam has tons of international food offerings.  The Dutch are particularly fond of Indonesian food, which we had for dinner on Friday.  The Netherlands does have a particular type of fast food that is special, such as “bitterballen,” croquetes and French fries with peanut sauce.  Croquetes and bitterballen are essentially the same food, just in a different shape:  Both contain gravy and shredded meat and are deep-fried.  Additionally, stroopwafels are not the Dutch people’s only outlet for sugar:  They (especially children) eat white bread with butter and chocolate sprinkles for breakfast.  Of course, we, as tourists, were not above trying this interesting breakfast concept.  So, how’d it taste?  Let me put it this way: If it were more socially acceptable to eat refined flour, covered with full-fat cream and an ice cream topping for breakfast, I’d do it. 

            Amsterdam is one of the those cities that you think you only need a couple of days for, but when you leave you realize how much more you wanted to see.  Never the less, late Sunday evening we arrived back in Bremen, satisfied and sugar-loaded.  The trip to Amsterdam was the first trip out of Germany I’ve had since arriving and it felt so strange to succumb to speaking English and not feel guilty (96 percent of Dutch people speak English). 

Now, however, as I write this ridiculously long post (thanks for reading! J ), I’m on the go again.  I’m on the train towards Munich for a new adventure and new form of sugar:  Oktoberfest.  This weekend might be absent of cake, stroopwaffels and chocolate sprinkles, but considering carbs technically are sugars, I don’t think my blood sugar will droop too low.  J

Seven Things I Find Amusing

Being an American in Germany can sometimes be a very, very funny experience.  Being new, the past month has had countless introductions.  More than once I have left these introductions smiling to myself because of something the other person said, usually about who "We Americans Are."  Sometimes the comments are thought provoking, but most of the time they are silly and light-hearted.  Here are my favorite direct and subliminal comments I have heard and/or noticed about America:

1.  "Americans eat a lot of steak."  Since arriving in Germany I have not eaten a single piece of steak, but I sure have heard a lot about how much steak Americans supposedly eat.  Perhaps I brought this upon myself because during my first night with my host family my host mother asked me what my favorite meals are.  Considering I'm more of a sweets-fanatic, I did not have a prepared answered.  Instead I answered simply, like a good, meat-eating, red-blooded American: "Steak."  I don't think my host parents were surprised.  This past Saturday we were again, for some reason, talking about steak and I felt the need to defend America's steak consumption.  I explained that I don't miss steak very much because my family eats more chicken than steak.  I tried to emphasize that chicken is our more commonly eaten meat and that we really do not eat burgers and hot dogs for every meal.  My host mother then countered that my family is "not a normal American family." From this I'm lead to believe that my American family is far from normal because we have a white-meat and red-meat diet.  This just tickles me, but it's also not the end of my steak conversations.  On Sunday, I went to an outdoor art show with my host mother.  While we were there we ate grilled bratwursts and cake (OK, really, Germany? And you're making assumptions about MY food??)  and talked with some of the other women there.  One woman was from the Philippines, but has lived in Germany for many years.  When she learned that I am American, literally the first thing she said to me was, "Oh, Americans, you eat a lot of steak!"  Cue the ever-safe smile and nod.

2.  "Meaghan Britain from America."  I am making an assumption here, but it seems uncommon in Germany for someone to have a last name that relates to their family origin.  This of course is not true in America, and I am living proof.  I support my point further by pointing out that in my high school there were also Englands and Irelands.  Anyway, more than once when I have introduced myself I have heard the line, "Oh, Meaghan Britain from America."  Yes, that's right, I'm American, but actually English and Irish.  Is that a problem?  Just like the steak comments, these comments just tickle me.

3.  Fear of peanut butter.  Perhaps one of the most internationally loved exports of Germany is the delicious chocolate Nutella, which is labeled with the wonderful euphemism "hazelnut spread."  Come on, Germany, who are you fooling?  One look at the brown goo and it screams "chocolate."  I know chocolate when I taste it and I'm officially calling you out.  A few of my friends and I have become quite spirited when we talk about Nutella because it is definitely the German's peanut butter, and yet many Germans treat peanut butter as if it were radio active.  I haven't had peanut butter in over a month and I miss it.  It's not that you can't buy it here, but whoever heard of the supposedly "Made in America"  Alwood brand of peanut butter?  That's just not JIF and choosey moms would not choose Alwood.  When I told my host mother about peanut butter and jelly sandwiches she asked me if they were for breakfast.  I supposed that would be a logical guess, but I laughed and explained that no, we eat the sugary combination for lunch.  Her retort was, "If you eat too much sugar you're going to have to go the dentist."  If you eat too much Nutella you're going to have to go the dentist too.

4.  English is cool.  I can definitely see the logic behind this thought--In the US it is also really cool to know another language.  Growing up speaking English, though, it is sometimes a strange idea to think of my language as cool.  When I'm struggling to learn a new German past tense passive form I get a certain amount of perverse pleasure to think of how hard and random English pronunciations are, but I certainly have never thought of it as cool.  On Friday, I went to Viertel Fest, a music street festival.  After one of the (amazing) acts, the singers told the crowd it was someone's birthday.  Just as I was gearing up to sing "Happy Birthday" in German, the crowd broke out into a jubilant English "Happy Birthday."  This made me a little sad.  It is so interesting that here it is generally considered cool to know English.  Even more surprising to me was that many of the German bands at Viertel Fest sang in English.

5.  "American girls have really high voices."  I do not remember where I heard this comical misconception, but all I have to say in response is, NO.  This is just not true.  It is possible an American said this, but I still strongly disagree.

6.  Food packaging with the Stars and Stripes.  What better way to sell a construed American image than by selling already prepared hamburgers, sesame seed bun and all, packaged and ready to be eaten.  There are many different products that sport the Stars and Strips, such as the peanut butter jars.  The most amusing and blatant message, however, was the hamburgers.  If you're wondering how I feel about this, please refer to 1.  I think international food sales could be a good testing ground for the success of subliminal messages.  I'd be interested to meet the type of person who likes these burgers...

The next one is easily my favorite:

7.  "All Americans are good at volleyball."  If I am meant to be a representative of American young adults and what a typical American is like, the previous statement would be proven false in every way possible.  Not only am I a terrible athlete, but I also hate volleyball.  Yes, I know roughly how to play it, but please, please don't ask me to play volleyball.  In high school gym class I felt like the volleyball unit was infinitely longer than the one unit I actually liked--badminton.  Badminton doesn't leave bruises on my arms and is a lot kinder to the less athletic among us.  When I have to play volleyball I feel like Princess Mia in "The Princess Diaries" when she has to play softball and she pleads to be excused, explaining that she is more the "yoga, rock-climbing type girl."  Really, I'd play a lot of things before volleyball--even frisbee.  The comment about volleyball is even funnier to me because my high school didn't even have a volleyball team.  Just as it's not fair to generalize the German culture, I also shouldn't speak for all America, but from my 22 years of experience, not all Americans can play volleyball and this one American certainly would prefer we never play volleyball.