This last weekend was my first trip any real distance from Berlin, albeit not very far. A train ticket to Potsdam cost me only about 7 dollars, as Potsdam is covered as part of the surrounding Berlin area by its train system. It's three sections, A B and C. Potsdam is in the C area, so instead of getting a very expensive regional train ticket it cost me but a few Euros.
Potsdam feels to me like a big small town. Not a suburb as many outlying areas near large US cities might me, almost like another big city in and of itself, just scaled down. The buildings were only a few stories high instead of in Berlin where they'd be a few taller. There was a tram system, but the trams were almost adorable in size and it was supplemented by buses.
I had two goals in mind with my visit: One, see some street I'd heard of that doesn't allow cars and has a lot of neat stores and restaurants, and Two, to see the Potsdam Biodome on account of how cool that sounds.
I was fairly lucky to find the street (whose name escapes me if I ever even knew it) that has all the pretty stores and such, as I stumbled across it by accident. It so happens there's a second Brandenburg Gate there. I had no idea there was more than just the one, but yep, it's there, a bit smaller but quite accurate in its construction. I had a wonderful lunch in a ice little cafe with a simply splendid "Italian Drinking Chocolate" that reminded me of the thick hot chocolates available in France. It was very nice.
During and after lunch, I asked about 5 separate people how to find the Potsdam Biosphere, on account of my not understanding the directions from any one. I did eventually piece together a rough idea of its location and hopped on a tram, actually ending up exactly where I'd intended. Score one for me!
The Biosphere was very nice. It was warm, there were lots of tropical plants and some animals in little exhibits (mostly spiders, iguanas and the like) and plenty of signs in German telling about the exhibit. Unlike some of the other attractions I've seen so far (well, a museum anyways) this place did not cater to English-speakers so I had to get around on German, which was all well and good. I had no idea what most of everything said but I had a wonderful time looking around and trying to read the German.
I left after dark and made my way back into the heart of Berlin with only minor trouble, to slumber. The next day I really wanted to visit another Flohmarkt, or flea market.
I woke up early enough to get to visit a few flea markets in different parts of the city. I mapped out my routes and the locations so I could find them easily. I left, cursing the biting cold. It was -15C Sunday, and pretty much the same on Saturday. I arrived after a while at my first flea market, to find it completely empty. There was a British couple taking pictures of one another in the park where the flea market meets, but no other people. I could see where the stalls usually were. There was a sign on the street saying (I think) where to park on Sundays if you have a stall. Yet there was noone. I was out in the cold when even Berliners would not be. I felt proud of myself even while I could not feel my ears. I looked around for a bit and saw nothing but residential blocks so I made my way back to the U-Bahn (subway) and took it a stop or two in a random direction, and got off.
After a bit of walking I ran into a pretty little park with a few hills, and a small frozen lake. People were ice skating, sledding, and having a great time. At the top of the hill was what clearly was a restaurant, looking much like a restaurant one might find at the top of a mountain used for skiing. I made my way to it and inside, and it looked gorgeous, just like a ski lodge. It was a Sunday brunch too, and so I got in line to be seated. The place was full and I made some idle chitchat with a mother of two while I waited on a table, learning she was from Nicaragua and had been here for almost a year. We spoke of each of our homes, talking about how much warmer it was there than here, and I felt for one of the first times I was having an actual natural conversation with someone. Sure, it was slow and my vocabulary is terrible, but she understood me for the most part and I her.
Lunch was delicious if uneventful, followed by a meager attempt by me to continue exploring the area before I began risking hypothermia, or at least losing an ear or digit. I trudged home, to relax in the heat and study. All in all, a good weekend if not filled with flea-marketness.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Koreans, Movies, Parties
While the last few days have been fairly uneventful, hence my not posting anything, yesterday (as of this post, I always struggle internally with references to time and the potential confusion they can cause) was certainly a change of pace.
School was perfectly normal; we're learning adjective endings and it's a rather meaty part of making your German not sound particularly awful.
It was not class, but what happened afterward, that was interesting. For lunch I decided to go with 3 friends from the Goethe Institute, one from my class and two from higher ones. We went by car, as one of them lives in Poland and took his car here. Despite the fact that Berlin is a big, major city, driving is not a big problem here. The city's public transport is good enough that the streets remain free, I suppose. Anyways, we ended up at a restaurant unlike anything I had ever seen.
It is a Korean restaurant, but as soon as you go inside your eyes are battered with homemade tapestries on the wall all depicting Bible quotes and verses. Everywhere. In a Korean restaurant. It was very strange, but we'd heard wonderful things about the food. So we get a table and some menus. More than half of the text in the menus was totally unrelated to the food, it was more verses from the Bible as well as charts and illustrations. We couldn't make out too much of the text, but the general idea of it all is exactly what you'd expect from anyone trying to convince someone of Christianity. There was a lot about God's love, things Jesus did, and so on. We all decided that, however strange it was for that to be in the restaurant and in the menu, to stay and eat.
We ordered our food and it came a short time later, the other three ordering something called bibim-bab, which looked to be a rice, mixed veggies, and meat bowl. It smelled delicious, and all agreed it was very hot. My dish was a chicken one with similar vegetables, and it too was hot (albeit not terribly) and extremely good. I'll probably go there again, even if just to try and figure out what the heck that place is about.
On the way home, very close to it, there was some kind of commotion. Upon further inspection (because come on, who doesn't love to see commotions?) it was rather apparent that a movie scene was being filmed there, or rather was preparing to be filmed. There were a bunch of people milling about, preparing everything, one of those big movie cameras that was even on movie-style tracks to roll around on, and a small crowd. I took a couple pictures (soon to go on Flickr!) and was on my way. I didn't find out if it was a big-time movie or not, as the size of the set and the number of people involved certainly didn't look Hollywood, but it couldn't have been a small-time movie, it was too well-organized for that.
That night I met up with the same friends plus another to go to a party on a boat. It sounded really interesting, and we were led by an old friend of one of the guys in our group. As it would happen, this was not exactly a party for people our age. Most of the attendants were at least thirty years old, and the distribution of people trying to speak other languages was somewhat skewed. I signed up nonetheless, putting the language I speak and wanted to speak on a sheet, and was nearly immediately set upon by a somewhat attractive Turkish woman in her early thirties. She was simply delighted that I spoke English, and naively at that. I knew I was in trouble then, but I was polite. We spoke for a while, I ended up being a guinea pig for a few others, and then quietly excused myself from my group of friends to go home and study. Boring, yes, but this trip costs too much money to be sitting around speaking English all day.
School was perfectly normal; we're learning adjective endings and it's a rather meaty part of making your German not sound particularly awful.
It was not class, but what happened afterward, that was interesting. For lunch I decided to go with 3 friends from the Goethe Institute, one from my class and two from higher ones. We went by car, as one of them lives in Poland and took his car here. Despite the fact that Berlin is a big, major city, driving is not a big problem here. The city's public transport is good enough that the streets remain free, I suppose. Anyways, we ended up at a restaurant unlike anything I had ever seen.
It is a Korean restaurant, but as soon as you go inside your eyes are battered with homemade tapestries on the wall all depicting Bible quotes and verses. Everywhere. In a Korean restaurant. It was very strange, but we'd heard wonderful things about the food. So we get a table and some menus. More than half of the text in the menus was totally unrelated to the food, it was more verses from the Bible as well as charts and illustrations. We couldn't make out too much of the text, but the general idea of it all is exactly what you'd expect from anyone trying to convince someone of Christianity. There was a lot about God's love, things Jesus did, and so on. We all decided that, however strange it was for that to be in the restaurant and in the menu, to stay and eat.
We ordered our food and it came a short time later, the other three ordering something called bibim-bab, which looked to be a rice, mixed veggies, and meat bowl. It smelled delicious, and all agreed it was very hot. My dish was a chicken one with similar vegetables, and it too was hot (albeit not terribly) and extremely good. I'll probably go there again, even if just to try and figure out what the heck that place is about.
On the way home, very close to it, there was some kind of commotion. Upon further inspection (because come on, who doesn't love to see commotions?) it was rather apparent that a movie scene was being filmed there, or rather was preparing to be filmed. There were a bunch of people milling about, preparing everything, one of those big movie cameras that was even on movie-style tracks to roll around on, and a small crowd. I took a couple pictures (soon to go on Flickr!) and was on my way. I didn't find out if it was a big-time movie or not, as the size of the set and the number of people involved certainly didn't look Hollywood, but it couldn't have been a small-time movie, it was too well-organized for that.
That night I met up with the same friends plus another to go to a party on a boat. It sounded really interesting, and we were led by an old friend of one of the guys in our group. As it would happen, this was not exactly a party for people our age. Most of the attendants were at least thirty years old, and the distribution of people trying to speak other languages was somewhat skewed. I signed up nonetheless, putting the language I speak and wanted to speak on a sheet, and was nearly immediately set upon by a somewhat attractive Turkish woman in her early thirties. She was simply delighted that I spoke English, and naively at that. I knew I was in trouble then, but I was polite. We spoke for a while, I ended up being a guinea pig for a few others, and then quietly excused myself from my group of friends to go home and study. Boring, yes, but this trip costs too much money to be sitting around speaking English all day.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Always Keep Trying, It'll Be Awesome
It has been said many times, and in may ways, that you should never give up. If you get lost, wander around until you find a path. If you fall down, brush yourself off and get back up.
I am glad I listened to those bits of advice from over the years.
I wanted to visit a castle while here in Germany. The first, mainly due to proximity, is Charlottenburg Schloss (Castle), nestled in western Berlin. I did minimal research to find out its exact location, assuming I could find it using a downloaded map on my phone. It seems I was wrong. The best I could do is find a Berlin-Charlottenburg subway station at first, which I had a sneaking suspicion was nearish where I needed to go, but was clearly not the right place. After some fumbling on my phone, I knew I would have to speak to some Germans and ask.
The first few I spoke to were very kind, if not terribly knowledgeable about where I was going either due to my terrible German or only vague understanding of where my destination was. It was already almost 2:30 at this point, due to a late start to the day, and I was a bit disheartened.
I regrouped my efforts and looked again on my phone for just Charlottenburg. I found something near a really big park, and hoped that was it. Another subway ride and I arrived. I made my way to a street that had the word "schloss" on it, hoping for the best. I looked both ways, and lo and behold! The castle was visible! And really far away.
So I began my trek towards the castle. Perhaps a 20 minute walk or so, which wasn't bad. The temperature wasn't a biting cold at the moment and the road was beautiful, a boulevard from the time of the castle itself, I suspect. I arrived and made my way into an opening in the castle, the only one I saw. Inside was a man dressed in garb straight from the 1800s, and after a bit of broken German from me he switched to English, explaining the castle and how to access the gardens and so on. He also told me of a special event that night, a dinner in the palace and an orchestra performance after that. I was wowed; I had to do that.
First, though, I had time to kill and so I wandered to gardens, which were absolutely gorgeous. As I walked through snow-covered trails with beautiful big trees around me, I could not help but think of it as a winter wonderland. There were others there, walking around by themselves or with loved ones, and the entire thing was very serene. I made my way out of the woods on the west to find a large lake central to the castle, and gardens that must look spectacular during the summer. The lake was frozen over and children were ice skating on it, and a man passed me on the snowy ground on skis. He was cross-country skiing around the gardens of the castle!
I kept walking around, really loving the scenery and paths and gardens, and made my way onto the frozen lake. I have never walked on a frozen lake before, as best I can recall, and it was a bit of a strange experience. Enjoyable, though. One thing that I found very strange was that some old footprints on the ice were visible in that they actually warped the ice a good deal. As if stepping in mud, there was an indent the shape of the shoe. I had no idea ice could do that and was a bit concerned, but people were walking all around in that area, so I suppose it was safe.
After the gardens I returned to the castle and got tickets to dinner and the orchestra. One of the workers there wanted to practice his English with me and I wanted to practice my German, so he and I read together, filling in each other's gaps in knowledge, the menu and descriptions thereof for the night. It was fun.
Then came dinner.
It truly was a meal for a king, with beautiful tables, candlelit and with numerous servants (well, waitstaff) coming and going getting you anything you needed. The first course was a highly unusual soup, a creamy asparagus-based soup with coffee oil added (Frederick the Great really loved coffee.) The second course a wonderful pheasant in a grape sauce with a potato strudel, and the dessert was something akin to a chocolate mousse using very old ways of preparing it: just like the aztecs had their chocolate, so too was early European chocolate flavored with chilies and somewhat bitter. The Europeans would add some other spices to it and eventually began making it sweeter with milk, and the dessert I had was absolutely astounding, a blend of flavors I have not before had in chocolate.
After dinner was the concert, and I was absolutely wowed by it. The performers were not part of a travelling orchestra that performs from place to place, but rather a dedicated group picked from different orchestras to perform only at the castle. They played a song or two that everyone might recognize, including the Blue Danube, as well as some opera every other song or so with a wonderful soprano and tenor lending their voices to the group.
I wanted to get some culture while here in Germany, not just going to restaurants and school and such. It seems I was quite in luck. An unforgettable day and night, and had I given up when I could not initially find the castle none of that would have happened.
So if at first you don't succeed, just keep trying. The dessert is worth it.
I am glad I listened to those bits of advice from over the years.
I wanted to visit a castle while here in Germany. The first, mainly due to proximity, is Charlottenburg Schloss (Castle), nestled in western Berlin. I did minimal research to find out its exact location, assuming I could find it using a downloaded map on my phone. It seems I was wrong. The best I could do is find a Berlin-Charlottenburg subway station at first, which I had a sneaking suspicion was nearish where I needed to go, but was clearly not the right place. After some fumbling on my phone, I knew I would have to speak to some Germans and ask.
The first few I spoke to were very kind, if not terribly knowledgeable about where I was going either due to my terrible German or only vague understanding of where my destination was. It was already almost 2:30 at this point, due to a late start to the day, and I was a bit disheartened.
I regrouped my efforts and looked again on my phone for just Charlottenburg. I found something near a really big park, and hoped that was it. Another subway ride and I arrived. I made my way to a street that had the word "schloss" on it, hoping for the best. I looked both ways, and lo and behold! The castle was visible! And really far away.
So I began my trek towards the castle. Perhaps a 20 minute walk or so, which wasn't bad. The temperature wasn't a biting cold at the moment and the road was beautiful, a boulevard from the time of the castle itself, I suspect. I arrived and made my way into an opening in the castle, the only one I saw. Inside was a man dressed in garb straight from the 1800s, and after a bit of broken German from me he switched to English, explaining the castle and how to access the gardens and so on. He also told me of a special event that night, a dinner in the palace and an orchestra performance after that. I was wowed; I had to do that.
First, though, I had time to kill and so I wandered to gardens, which were absolutely gorgeous. As I walked through snow-covered trails with beautiful big trees around me, I could not help but think of it as a winter wonderland. There were others there, walking around by themselves or with loved ones, and the entire thing was very serene. I made my way out of the woods on the west to find a large lake central to the castle, and gardens that must look spectacular during the summer. The lake was frozen over and children were ice skating on it, and a man passed me on the snowy ground on skis. He was cross-country skiing around the gardens of the castle!
I kept walking around, really loving the scenery and paths and gardens, and made my way onto the frozen lake. I have never walked on a frozen lake before, as best I can recall, and it was a bit of a strange experience. Enjoyable, though. One thing that I found very strange was that some old footprints on the ice were visible in that they actually warped the ice a good deal. As if stepping in mud, there was an indent the shape of the shoe. I had no idea ice could do that and was a bit concerned, but people were walking all around in that area, so I suppose it was safe.
After the gardens I returned to the castle and got tickets to dinner and the orchestra. One of the workers there wanted to practice his English with me and I wanted to practice my German, so he and I read together, filling in each other's gaps in knowledge, the menu and descriptions thereof for the night. It was fun.
Then came dinner.
It truly was a meal for a king, with beautiful tables, candlelit and with numerous servants (well, waitstaff) coming and going getting you anything you needed. The first course was a highly unusual soup, a creamy asparagus-based soup with coffee oil added (Frederick the Great really loved coffee.) The second course a wonderful pheasant in a grape sauce with a potato strudel, and the dessert was something akin to a chocolate mousse using very old ways of preparing it: just like the aztecs had their chocolate, so too was early European chocolate flavored with chilies and somewhat bitter. The Europeans would add some other spices to it and eventually began making it sweeter with milk, and the dessert I had was absolutely astounding, a blend of flavors I have not before had in chocolate.
After dinner was the concert, and I was absolutely wowed by it. The performers were not part of a travelling orchestra that performs from place to place, but rather a dedicated group picked from different orchestras to perform only at the castle. They played a song or two that everyone might recognize, including the Blue Danube, as well as some opera every other song or so with a wonderful soprano and tenor lending their voices to the group.
I wanted to get some culture while here in Germany, not just going to restaurants and school and such. It seems I was quite in luck. An unforgettable day and night, and had I given up when I could not initially find the castle none of that would have happened.
So if at first you don't succeed, just keep trying. The dessert is worth it.
School-Endorsed Drinking and Florida Friends
Earth can seem like a pretty big place, but it isn't.
I have heard stories of people running into other people in the unlikeliest of places. Berlin, while not as unlikely as, say, Tibet, is a rather strange place to bump into someone.
My sister's friend from Elementary school has come to Berlin, on nearly the same day as I have, albeit for a much longer time. This friend I have seen coming and going for years and years, and if you had said that someday I'd meet her for lunch in Berlin I would have been confused at best, and perhaps overreacted and called you a witch.
Yet, this past Friday, I did indeed meet her for lunch.
We met on a subway platform and proceeded to wander around in search of lunch. We were very close to Under Den Linden, a famous street in Berlin with very expensive stores, so cheap food was not abundant. We did, however, find a chocolate store whose name translates to "Colorful Chocolate World." Check http://www.flickr.com/photos/uflinguist/ for pictures (as well as pictures of everything else I am up to here.)
We ended up going a ways away and getting Indian food for lunch. I've noticed that there are absolute tons of Vietnamese and Indian places around Berlin, and very few Chinese places. Many say that they specialize in Oriental food, but it really means (once you look at the menu) it's Vietnamese or maybe Japanese. Anyways, we had a nice meal and then went our separate ways.
After a short rest at home, I left to return to the Goethe Institute to meet up with some others. The Goethe Institute has "cultural activities" after classes often that you can sign up for, and this one had quite a few people sign up for it. I can't recall the German name for it, but it basically equated to a pub crawl.
We met and our guide first boggled at how many people showed up, more than twice as many as the sign-up sheet could accommodate. He then went on for a rather long time about the history of drinks and beer and such in Germany and Berlin (I think, I still can't really understand a lot of what people say, but some people told me the Cliffs Notes later) and where we'd be going. 8 bars, each with a different local flavor and theme and way of doing things. We would not all fit in to each place.
As I suspected, as soon as we got to the first bar, the group splintered. About 25 went into the first bar, where there was a reserved section for us. Some friends and I decided to heck with it, and went to another bar on the list, and spend the evening staying one step ahead of the pack. As soon as a few people we recognized began to trickle in, we would quickly leave and make our way to the next bar.
All in all, a very fun night and certainly not something that a US program would be endorsing for its cultural activities. ;)
I have heard stories of people running into other people in the unlikeliest of places. Berlin, while not as unlikely as, say, Tibet, is a rather strange place to bump into someone.
My sister's friend from Elementary school has come to Berlin, on nearly the same day as I have, albeit for a much longer time. This friend I have seen coming and going for years and years, and if you had said that someday I'd meet her for lunch in Berlin I would have been confused at best, and perhaps overreacted and called you a witch.
Yet, this past Friday, I did indeed meet her for lunch.
We met on a subway platform and proceeded to wander around in search of lunch. We were very close to Under Den Linden, a famous street in Berlin with very expensive stores, so cheap food was not abundant. We did, however, find a chocolate store whose name translates to "Colorful Chocolate World." Check http://www.flickr.com/photos/uflinguist/ for pictures (as well as pictures of everything else I am up to here.)
We ended up going a ways away and getting Indian food for lunch. I've noticed that there are absolute tons of Vietnamese and Indian places around Berlin, and very few Chinese places. Many say that they specialize in Oriental food, but it really means (once you look at the menu) it's Vietnamese or maybe Japanese. Anyways, we had a nice meal and then went our separate ways.
After a short rest at home, I left to return to the Goethe Institute to meet up with some others. The Goethe Institute has "cultural activities" after classes often that you can sign up for, and this one had quite a few people sign up for it. I can't recall the German name for it, but it basically equated to a pub crawl.
We met and our guide first boggled at how many people showed up, more than twice as many as the sign-up sheet could accommodate. He then went on for a rather long time about the history of drinks and beer and such in Germany and Berlin (I think, I still can't really understand a lot of what people say, but some people told me the Cliffs Notes later) and where we'd be going. 8 bars, each with a different local flavor and theme and way of doing things. We would not all fit in to each place.
As I suspected, as soon as we got to the first bar, the group splintered. About 25 went into the first bar, where there was a reserved section for us. Some friends and I decided to heck with it, and went to another bar on the list, and spend the evening staying one step ahead of the pack. As soon as a few people we recognized began to trickle in, we would quickly leave and make our way to the next bar.
All in all, a very fun night and certainly not something that a US program would be endorsing for its cultural activities. ;)
Thursday, January 14, 2010
What a schmuck
Here's a little post that's more geared towards my interests and not my time in Germany. Presumably the sort of thing that will occur more often after this trip, so take that for what you will.
I was in class a few days back when I learned a fun new German word: schmuck. It means "jewelry." Immediately that little voice in my head spoke up.
"HEY! You know that word!"
"Well, yes, of course I do," I responded, not aloud. "It's a yiddish slang term."
"And you know what Yiddish is?"
"I should certainly hope so, because if you do and I don't then I'm going to start wearing tinfoil hats."
"Exactly! A Germanic language! As is German!"
"Hence the name." I could see where the voice was leading me. Schmuck, spelled the same (at least a good deal of the time) certainly doesn't mean 'jewelry' in Yiddish, heavens no. The Online Etymology Dictionary, one of my favorite sites, defines it as "contemptible person" in today's English, and I find no objection with that. It goes on to say that in Yiddish the exact meaning is of "penis," which I found a bit strange but not entirely out of the question, and that in term came from Old Polish smok for grass snake, or dragon. A bit of a funny semantic leap, if I don't say so myself.
So then are schmuck and schmuck related?
No, it turns out, not really at all. Despite coming from very closely related languages, the two terms are a simple coincidence.
The German schmuck is actually related to the English "smock" in that they both are originally from the Proto-Indo-European *smeugh-, "to press." Cognates across a few languages lead on to some other interesting trains of thought to follow another time. The PIE base's original notion was roughly one of "garment one creeps into" and there is an Old English cognate, smygel, meaning "burrow." Perhaps the linguist and writer J.R.R. Tolkien decided to make a little etymological link to one of his characters? As it turns out after a tiny bit of digging, yes. I independently discovered the source of his name that is well documented on Wikipedia.
So there you have it! Not only can a word in two closely related languages be spelled the same and yet have wildly differing meanings, they need not even be etymologically related! That and Tolkien seemed to have a thing for old Germanic languages.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Museum trip!
Monday was fairly normal, for what normal now is. I went to class and did little special afterwards, but came back home and studied. Rather boring.
However, on Tuesday, I got to go to my first museum here in Germany! It was the Pergamom Museum, and it has a lot of large architectural finds there from ancient babylon and those areas. I will post some pictures a bit later on my Flickr account so those interested can see, but it was very interesting.
My favorite part was not the architecture, and certainly not the hourlong tour in which I understood perhaps only 1% of what the tour guide said, but the samples of ancient writing.
I saw with my own eyes for the first time actual Cuneiform! I think. I mean, I know it was Cuneiform, but may have seen it elsewhere. I also saw some ancient Aramaic, and I took note that some of the symbols greatly resembled to me some of the more Far-Eastern writing systems.
I spend a good while wandering around and taking in the museum and went home, rather happy. Now if only I could understand what the tour guide said...
I feel like I am making progress on German. At first it was very fast, remembering everything I once forgot. Now it is slower, like building a pyramid with nothing but logs and rope. I am pressing onward, though, not just because I cannot stayy home all day but because I want to conquer this language. I really truly desire to be able to speak, read and write it. And so I shall.
However, on Tuesday, I got to go to my first museum here in Germany! It was the Pergamom Museum, and it has a lot of large architectural finds there from ancient babylon and those areas. I will post some pictures a bit later on my Flickr account so those interested can see, but it was very interesting.
My favorite part was not the architecture, and certainly not the hourlong tour in which I understood perhaps only 1% of what the tour guide said, but the samples of ancient writing.
I saw with my own eyes for the first time actual Cuneiform! I think. I mean, I know it was Cuneiform, but may have seen it elsewhere. I also saw some ancient Aramaic, and I took note that some of the symbols greatly resembled to me some of the more Far-Eastern writing systems.
I spend a good while wandering around and taking in the museum and went home, rather happy. Now if only I could understand what the tour guide said...
I feel like I am making progress on German. At first it was very fast, remembering everything I once forgot. Now it is slower, like building a pyramid with nothing but logs and rope. I am pressing onward, though, not just because I cannot stayy home all day but because I want to conquer this language. I really truly desire to be able to speak, read and write it. And so I shall.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
My First Weekend OR Hey, I don't need to iron my shirts!
My first weekend in Germany has been a nice quiet one.
Attempts to meet with a friend from back home that happens to be in this city at the same time as me have failed a few times, and that's OK. There's plenty of time for meeting her and with other people.
I spent most of Saturday inside, working on the Rosetta Stone for German and watching German TV. I still can't get most of what they're saying, but I have a feeling I soon will. Other that that, Saturday was pretty uneventful. My host and my apartment-mate (I really can't think of a good term, because we're technically not roommates) each watched a movie at separate times Saturday and tried to get me to watch with them. I tried, but still understand so little it wasn't very useful.
Sunday was more eventful. As I prepared to leave in the morning it occured to me that I need not feel as bad as I have for having unironed shirts, even my nice ones. Reason being I'm always wearing at least one layer over it, even in class, so noone can notice. A little weight off my shoulders.I went to a flea market and actually asked for directions in German, and understood juuuust enough of the responses to actually make my way there. I know that wouldn't have happened a week ago. And one thing that definitely was not doable for me until recently was the random conversation I had with a fellow traveler. We both bitched about the cold together and discusses how many layers of clothes we were wearing. I explained I was from Florida and not used to wearing layers and did not have much cold-weather clothing. The woman told me where I could find some. It was nice to be able to do something so basic as share the weather and my feelings on it with someone. I might add that the German "Mir ist kalt" is the correct way to say you are cold, instead of the nominative "Ich bin kalt" which would denote you have a Scrooge-like demeanor. Until Friday I'd have screwed that up out of ignorance. Yay progress!
I finally got myself a scarf, so I'm not using one of my apartment-mate's. It's 100% alpaca, or so it claims. I don't think it's soft enough to be alpaca, but it certainly is itchy like wool. Either way it wasn't that expensive and is rather warm, so I'm happy. I also got myself some proper gloves and some "alpaca"-wool socks as a present for someone that likes itchy (but warm) things.
I finally took the city tram when trying to get back home after that, and promptly got on the wrong tram (which I would not discover until about 3 stops later.) I then got on the wrong U-bahn at that station, then made an incorrect transfer after that during my attempt to start heading back home. A bit of reading, slow translating on my phone, and map studying later I had the correct bearings and made it back fairly quickly.
After that, which is right now as I type this actually, I plan (plan? Did I shift from narrative past to present tense? Sure, why not...) on studying and hopefully hearing from my friend from Florida and either meeting with her tonight or getting a German-language version of The Producers to watch. Either way it ought be fun.
Attempts to meet with a friend from back home that happens to be in this city at the same time as me have failed a few times, and that's OK. There's plenty of time for meeting her and with other people.
I spent most of Saturday inside, working on the Rosetta Stone for German and watching German TV. I still can't get most of what they're saying, but I have a feeling I soon will. Other that that, Saturday was pretty uneventful. My host and my apartment-mate (I really can't think of a good term, because we're technically not roommates) each watched a movie at separate times Saturday and tried to get me to watch with them. I tried, but still understand so little it wasn't very useful.
Sunday was more eventful. As I prepared to leave in the morning it occured to me that I need not feel as bad as I have for having unironed shirts, even my nice ones. Reason being I'm always wearing at least one layer over it, even in class, so noone can notice. A little weight off my shoulders.I went to a flea market and actually asked for directions in German, and understood juuuust enough of the responses to actually make my way there. I know that wouldn't have happened a week ago. And one thing that definitely was not doable for me until recently was the random conversation I had with a fellow traveler. We both bitched about the cold together and discusses how many layers of clothes we were wearing. I explained I was from Florida and not used to wearing layers and did not have much cold-weather clothing. The woman told me where I could find some. It was nice to be able to do something so basic as share the weather and my feelings on it with someone. I might add that the German "Mir ist kalt" is the correct way to say you are cold, instead of the nominative "Ich bin kalt" which would denote you have a Scrooge-like demeanor. Until Friday I'd have screwed that up out of ignorance. Yay progress!
I finally got myself a scarf, so I'm not using one of my apartment-mate's. It's 100% alpaca, or so it claims. I don't think it's soft enough to be alpaca, but it certainly is itchy like wool. Either way it wasn't that expensive and is rather warm, so I'm happy. I also got myself some proper gloves and some "alpaca"-wool socks as a present for someone that likes itchy (but warm) things.
I finally took the city tram when trying to get back home after that, and promptly got on the wrong tram (which I would not discover until about 3 stops later.) I then got on the wrong U-bahn at that station, then made an incorrect transfer after that during my attempt to start heading back home. A bit of reading, slow translating on my phone, and map studying later I had the correct bearings and made it back fairly quickly.
After that, which is right now as I type this actually, I plan (plan? Did I shift from narrative past to present tense? Sure, why not...) on studying and hopefully hearing from my friend from Florida and either meeting with her tonight or getting a German-language version of The Producers to watch. Either way it ought be fun.
Saturday, January 9, 2010
Days 3 and 4: Einkaufen für Schuhe
My German is getting a tiny bit better. Each day I'm learning new words, making new friends, and remembering more of the German I had once learned.
The weather, too, is a bit more tolerable by the day. I'm forced to walk at bare minimum for about 20 minutes outside each day, but am spending much more than that walking around either alone or with friends, exploring the city, eating, and more.
On day 3 I went alone to Zoologisher Garten and finally found a nice store to get a backpack and some shoes that weren't getting wet. I was lucky to find a backpack at a not-entirely-insane price of 27 euros (nearly all of anything approaching a decent size being 50 or more) and some shoes that I won't name the price, but were significantly less than the insane other prices offered elsewhere often exceeding 150 euros. I did, however, neglect to try them on because I am stupid. I would not remember I am stupid until trying on the shoes the next day.
Shoes are something most people take for granted. Sure, many women love to buy shoes, but once you're wearing them you tend to not worry about them too much. Unless they hurt.
Boy oh boy did these shoes hurt. From perhaps five seconds after putting them on to the time I returned home and blissfully took them off I was severely uncomfortable. I thought of nothing else but to remove them. I did remove them, in class, so I could concentrate on German.
After class I met with some friends to go to Zoologisher Garten for shopping and I was thrilled to go. I could return the horrible shoes! We made plans to meet soon after, to give us time to return to our places and freshen up or whatever, and I put my old shoes back on and got the bag and receipt and such I needed. We met up and went to Zoologisher Garten, which was an area with a zoo and plenty of stores. We stopped by first the store where I got the Horrible Shoes and I returned them, and got a new pair that I actually tried on. The result was a very happy me. We spent the next few hours wandering around stores and then stopped by Kaiser-Wilhelm-Gedächniskirche, which was very beautiful and full of historical goodness. Next we wandered to Brandenburger Tor (gate), a very famous landmark. It was a bit of a roundabout way we took, and ended up walking a long ways on Juni. 17 Strasse.
The walk to Brandenburger Tor was fun in that I have recently decided to model my way of living after the famous Arctic and African explorers of old, who had great big mustaches and pressed onwards in spite of sickness or cold and so on. I can just imagine them now, with no supplies and a half-frozen team, smiling in spite of it all and wiping off those little round glasses they seem to always wear, and speaking in a booming but friendly British accent that "We're nearly there, lads, don't give up now!" That's what I want to be. I'll admit I used to be a bit of a complainer when younger, and that's just no way to live. Not when I can live up to so much more.
So as we were walking down a very lengthy road and the Spainard with us started complaining about the cold, I bucked up and smiled in spite of the horrible cold I am unused to. I reminded him we were on an adventure and that we could see our quarry off in the distance, and how much fun we were having. He reluctantly agreed. And so we pressed on, the cold unable to affect me as it once may have. And my feet rather comfortable in my new shoes, which I might add were even less expensive than the ones I had bought the day before.
We made it to Brandenburger Tor and took some rather ineffective pictures in the dark before each heading our own ways, and I fell asleep very soon after coming back, even foregoing dinner. It seems being an explorer can really take it out of you.
The weather, too, is a bit more tolerable by the day. I'm forced to walk at bare minimum for about 20 minutes outside each day, but am spending much more than that walking around either alone or with friends, exploring the city, eating, and more.
On day 3 I went alone to Zoologisher Garten and finally found a nice store to get a backpack and some shoes that weren't getting wet. I was lucky to find a backpack at a not-entirely-insane price of 27 euros (nearly all of anything approaching a decent size being 50 or more) and some shoes that I won't name the price, but were significantly less than the insane other prices offered elsewhere often exceeding 150 euros. I did, however, neglect to try them on because I am stupid. I would not remember I am stupid until trying on the shoes the next day.
Shoes are something most people take for granted. Sure, many women love to buy shoes, but once you're wearing them you tend to not worry about them too much. Unless they hurt.
Boy oh boy did these shoes hurt. From perhaps five seconds after putting them on to the time I returned home and blissfully took them off I was severely uncomfortable. I thought of nothing else but to remove them. I did remove them, in class, so I could concentrate on German.
After class I met with some friends to go to Zoologisher Garten for shopping and I was thrilled to go. I could return the horrible shoes! We made plans to meet soon after, to give us time to return to our places and freshen up or whatever, and I put my old shoes back on and got the bag and receipt and such I needed. We met up and went to Zoologisher Garten, which was an area with a zoo and plenty of stores. We stopped by first the store where I got the Horrible Shoes and I returned them, and got a new pair that I actually tried on. The result was a very happy me. We spent the next few hours wandering around stores and then stopped by Kaiser-Wilhelm-Gedächniskirche, which was very beautiful and full of historical goodness. Next we wandered to Brandenburger Tor (gate), a very famous landmark. It was a bit of a roundabout way we took, and ended up walking a long ways on Juni. 17 Strasse.
The walk to Brandenburger Tor was fun in that I have recently decided to model my way of living after the famous Arctic and African explorers of old, who had great big mustaches and pressed onwards in spite of sickness or cold and so on. I can just imagine them now, with no supplies and a half-frozen team, smiling in spite of it all and wiping off those little round glasses they seem to always wear, and speaking in a booming but friendly British accent that "We're nearly there, lads, don't give up now!" That's what I want to be. I'll admit I used to be a bit of a complainer when younger, and that's just no way to live. Not when I can live up to so much more.
So as we were walking down a very lengthy road and the Spainard with us started complaining about the cold, I bucked up and smiled in spite of the horrible cold I am unused to. I reminded him we were on an adventure and that we could see our quarry off in the distance, and how much fun we were having. He reluctantly agreed. And so we pressed on, the cold unable to affect me as it once may have. And my feet rather comfortable in my new shoes, which I might add were even less expensive than the ones I had bought the day before.
We made it to Brandenburger Tor and took some rather ineffective pictures in the dark before each heading our own ways, and I fell asleep very soon after coming back, even foregoing dinner. It seems being an explorer can really take it out of you.
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Day 2: I love pastries.
I am not a morning person.
I never have been. I don't know if I ever will be. But the jetlag or the sun going down super early or something is helping me get up very early. I think there might be another underlying reason, though. The pastries at these bakeries are so good I just might make sure I always have time to get them on the way to class. I had some kind of bizarre U-shaped pastry, a bit like a dense croissant with... nuts or something on top? A glaze, not too much nor too little, and a bit of a filling that made me weep for Americans that have to have crappy doughnuts and such in the morning from Dunkin' Doughnuts or whatever they choose. America is missing out on some amazing stuff.
Class was a bit better than yesterday, partially because what German I learned continues to come back and partially because the teacher is using smaller words and simpler concepts. I think. It's hard to tell, but I definitely understood a heck of a lot more than yesterday. We're stocking up on verbs and conversation and even started touching on past tenses today. Certainly no dragging our feet, that's for sure. I did notice that when we went over how the past tense works, we accomplished in one hour what was perhaps the grammatical bulk of a semester of German at the High School level in America. That was a bit sad to realize, but gives me hope I'll be speaking well in no time.
After class came a meet and greet with free drinks and pretzels, and I filled up on that too much. I didn't eat much of my lunch, which is something that starts with a D that, I'm told, is the Turkish equivalent of the hamburger. It reminded me of Mexican food, with a tortilla-like shell filled with meat (meat that was literally shaved from a huge hunk, which was really weird to me) and toppings.
I came back home and took another nap, this time till 9. I simply cannot allow this to continue, or I'll lose a lot of time I could be doing other things. From eating too much before lunch and lunch, I wasn't very hungry and simply went without dinner. I studied and then went to bed, looking forward to another cold but fun day in Germany.
I never have been. I don't know if I ever will be. But the jetlag or the sun going down super early or something is helping me get up very early. I think there might be another underlying reason, though. The pastries at these bakeries are so good I just might make sure I always have time to get them on the way to class. I had some kind of bizarre U-shaped pastry, a bit like a dense croissant with... nuts or something on top? A glaze, not too much nor too little, and a bit of a filling that made me weep for Americans that have to have crappy doughnuts and such in the morning from Dunkin' Doughnuts or whatever they choose. America is missing out on some amazing stuff.
Class was a bit better than yesterday, partially because what German I learned continues to come back and partially because the teacher is using smaller words and simpler concepts. I think. It's hard to tell, but I definitely understood a heck of a lot more than yesterday. We're stocking up on verbs and conversation and even started touching on past tenses today. Certainly no dragging our feet, that's for sure. I did notice that when we went over how the past tense works, we accomplished in one hour what was perhaps the grammatical bulk of a semester of German at the High School level in America. That was a bit sad to realize, but gives me hope I'll be speaking well in no time.
After class came a meet and greet with free drinks and pretzels, and I filled up on that too much. I didn't eat much of my lunch, which is something that starts with a D that, I'm told, is the Turkish equivalent of the hamburger. It reminded me of Mexican food, with a tortilla-like shell filled with meat (meat that was literally shaved from a huge hunk, which was really weird to me) and toppings.
I came back home and took another nap, this time till 9. I simply cannot allow this to continue, or I'll lose a lot of time I could be doing other things. From eating too much before lunch and lunch, I wasn't very hungry and simply went without dinner. I studied and then went to bed, looking forward to another cold but fun day in Germany.
Day 1: Was hat sie gesagt?
My first full day here in Germany!
I woke up early, partially because of the lack of being on schedule, and got ready with plenty of time to be at class on time. Ben (my roommate) and I grabbed a pastry and drink from a local bakery on our way out, and I have rediscovered the joys of foreign bakeries. Everything looks great, I have no idea what it is, and whatever I pick ends up being a great choice.
Public transportation is very on-time here. The stations have electronic signs saying when a train is to come by, and they're always there when they say they will be. Everything is well marked, too, which is fantastic.
I arrived at the Goethe Institute very early, and had to wait a bit to take my placement test. When I took it, I became distraught. It was an actual test, in German! Presumably some basic stuff, answer questions based on a reading and such, but I couldn't understand the questions, answers, or anything save for the occasional word. I was worried. After the test came an interview, and that went much better, because the woman interviewing me adjusted her German to my level, the cobbled-together and small words level. We understood one another well enough, and I was ultimately placed into the class that's right above beginner.
The class was already under way when I walked in and took a seat, and I immediately became worried again. The teacher was speaking in German only, and everyone didn't look as confused as me. I would later find out that they were just as confused, so I found the right class. It also turns out that we weren't expected to understand all or even most of what the teacher said, as long as we got some of it and most of the general ideas. By the end of class I was understanding enough to grasp the concept of what we were going over, which was how "because" works in German. What German I once learned is trickling back, and I was noticeably more attuned to the language (albeit still utterly incompetent) by the end of class.
After class I went to a local lunch place, something of a pizzeria, that had amazing specials. All the pasta and pizza dishes were about half off, everything at just over 4 euros. Which is amazing. I sat with people of all nationalities at my long table and spoke in English with a few that could, and horribly broken German with the others. We all got varied dishes, each looking absolutely amazing. I got a salmon pizza, which was rather odd, but good. After that a few of us wandered around to a few stores, me looking for shoes and a backpack and the others nothing in particular. I found some nice shoes at prices so high I stumbled back after reading it and vowed to search a bit more later. I went home (can I say home to represent where I'm staying? I'm going to, at least for simplicity's sake) and took a nap. Well, not a nap, it was till 10 at night, which was bad. I can't keep doing that.
I woke up and went off to dinner with Ben, and we found a little Indian place very close to where we're staying. Despite it being 10:30 at night, it was packed. By that logic, it must be good food, and so I convinced Ben we ought eat there. This turned out to be one of my better ideas, because the food was at least as good as any other Indian place I have ever been. Everything smelled amazing, looked great, and tasted divine. The prices were absolutely fine too, and so I know I'll be going back.
Afterward, it was back home and time to study, and then sleep.
All in all, a pretty good first day.
I woke up early, partially because of the lack of being on schedule, and got ready with plenty of time to be at class on time. Ben (my roommate) and I grabbed a pastry and drink from a local bakery on our way out, and I have rediscovered the joys of foreign bakeries. Everything looks great, I have no idea what it is, and whatever I pick ends up being a great choice.
Public transportation is very on-time here. The stations have electronic signs saying when a train is to come by, and they're always there when they say they will be. Everything is well marked, too, which is fantastic.
I arrived at the Goethe Institute very early, and had to wait a bit to take my placement test. When I took it, I became distraught. It was an actual test, in German! Presumably some basic stuff, answer questions based on a reading and such, but I couldn't understand the questions, answers, or anything save for the occasional word. I was worried. After the test came an interview, and that went much better, because the woman interviewing me adjusted her German to my level, the cobbled-together and small words level. We understood one another well enough, and I was ultimately placed into the class that's right above beginner.
The class was already under way when I walked in and took a seat, and I immediately became worried again. The teacher was speaking in German only, and everyone didn't look as confused as me. I would later find out that they were just as confused, so I found the right class. It also turns out that we weren't expected to understand all or even most of what the teacher said, as long as we got some of it and most of the general ideas. By the end of class I was understanding enough to grasp the concept of what we were going over, which was how "because" works in German. What German I once learned is trickling back, and I was noticeably more attuned to the language (albeit still utterly incompetent) by the end of class.
After class I went to a local lunch place, something of a pizzeria, that had amazing specials. All the pasta and pizza dishes were about half off, everything at just over 4 euros. Which is amazing. I sat with people of all nationalities at my long table and spoke in English with a few that could, and horribly broken German with the others. We all got varied dishes, each looking absolutely amazing. I got a salmon pizza, which was rather odd, but good. After that a few of us wandered around to a few stores, me looking for shoes and a backpack and the others nothing in particular. I found some nice shoes at prices so high I stumbled back after reading it and vowed to search a bit more later. I went home (can I say home to represent where I'm staying? I'm going to, at least for simplicity's sake) and took a nap. Well, not a nap, it was till 10 at night, which was bad. I can't keep doing that.
I woke up and went off to dinner with Ben, and we found a little Indian place very close to where we're staying. Despite it being 10:30 at night, it was packed. By that logic, it must be good food, and so I convinced Ben we ought eat there. This turned out to be one of my better ideas, because the food was at least as good as any other Indian place I have ever been. Everything smelled amazing, looked great, and tasted divine. The prices were absolutely fine too, and so I know I'll be going back.
Afterward, it was back home and time to study, and then sleep.
All in all, a pretty good first day.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Day 0: German Efficiency
One thing about air travel is the sheer amount of uncertainty. My luggage became separated from me when I missed a connecting flight due to cold, and this caused me no small amount of distress. But lo and behold, it showed up with me when I arrived here in Berlin, so I have nothing to worry about. The first thing about that I noticed about German airports, or at least this one in particular, was that there is no big area with baggage claims. There's one small one right outside the gate, which was immensely helpful. The second thing I noticed, and still cannot get over, is the process of going through customs.
I remember going through customs into the US before, with long lines and questions asked and a stressful experience. This was not so here. After getting my luggage, I went into a small room marked as customs and the exit. There were two customs agents inside, each helping someone. One looked up at me and simply waved me on. I froze. "That's not right," I thought. A moment later he gestures again to the exit and says something in German, which makes clear to me they have no interest in checking my bags or even stamping my passport. So I left, bewildered.
Later I mentally went back and made sure I didn't miss or skip something. The best I could fathom was that at Frankfurt, where I missed my connection, there was a passport controlled area, and a man looked at my passport for perhaps 3 seconds before handing it back to me, unstamped. I don't know if it's considered necessary when in foreign countries to get your passport stamped, but I am definitely here without that.
I arrived by taxi (my German and jetlag both conspiring against me to take proper, and cheaper, public transportation) at the Goethe Institute much too late; they had long since stopped testing. I was worried I would need to find another cab and attempt to ask my way to where I was staying when one of the few remaining employees at the Goethe Institute asked who I was. I said my name and she said (in English, thank goodness) that my roommate was here as well. He'd stayed there to meet me, which was amazing, and as an added bonus he spoke much better German than me, really conversational, and knew how to get some good public transport!
This made me feel much better. He took me to a subway station and helped me get a month-long pass for the subway and other public transport, and helped me find my way to our destination.
We're staying on the 4th floor (5th if you're in America and start counting at 1) of a set of flats in a fairly residential part of Berlin, southeast of the center of the city. My room here is bigger (and better decorated, arguably) than my one back home, and our hostess is very nice, a woman aged roughly 50 or so. The toilets are your standard different-from-the-US-and-therefore-weird variety, and the apartment complex is somewhat old and hot water comes and goes as it pleases, but other than that this place is really nice.
I remember going through customs into the US before, with long lines and questions asked and a stressful experience. This was not so here. After getting my luggage, I went into a small room marked as customs and the exit. There were two customs agents inside, each helping someone. One looked up at me and simply waved me on. I froze. "That's not right," I thought. A moment later he gestures again to the exit and says something in German, which makes clear to me they have no interest in checking my bags or even stamping my passport. So I left, bewildered.
Later I mentally went back and made sure I didn't miss or skip something. The best I could fathom was that at Frankfurt, where I missed my connection, there was a passport controlled area, and a man looked at my passport for perhaps 3 seconds before handing it back to me, unstamped. I don't know if it's considered necessary when in foreign countries to get your passport stamped, but I am definitely here without that.
I arrived by taxi (my German and jetlag both conspiring against me to take proper, and cheaper, public transportation) at the Goethe Institute much too late; they had long since stopped testing. I was worried I would need to find another cab and attempt to ask my way to where I was staying when one of the few remaining employees at the Goethe Institute asked who I was. I said my name and she said (in English, thank goodness) that my roommate was here as well. He'd stayed there to meet me, which was amazing, and as an added bonus he spoke much better German than me, really conversational, and knew how to get some good public transport!
This made me feel much better. He took me to a subway station and helped me get a month-long pass for the subway and other public transport, and helped me find my way to our destination.
We're staying on the 4th floor (5th if you're in America and start counting at 1) of a set of flats in a fairly residential part of Berlin, southeast of the center of the city. My room here is bigger (and better decorated, arguably) than my one back home, and our hostess is very nice, a woman aged roughly 50 or so. The toilets are your standard different-from-the-US-and-therefore-weird variety, and the apartment complex is somewhat old and hot water comes and goes as it pleases, but other than that this place is really nice.
Saturday, January 2, 2010
First Post: Preparation Ach
Day -1 of my trip. Packing.
Packing for trips has become somewhat of a common ritual for me. I am certainly no jetsetter, traveling the world and starring in films opposite Vera Farmiga and Anna Kendrick, but I have had the good fortune of seeing more than a few countries in my few years so far.
The ritual has evolved over the years; my mother used to make my sister and me packing lists (don't forget that Plucky Midwestern Can-Do Spirit, they would often remind us,) or simply pack fore us, long ago. But those days are gone and now the task of preparing for a trip falls solely upon myself, albeit with the occasional prod or reminder from a parent or other loved one.
I like packing.
It seems that no matter how many times I pack for a trip, no matter how big or small, there's always something that I forget. Of course I am not the only one to have this happen to them, it's a common occurrence. I don't fear this forgetting of something, as I have long since come to grips with it. There's always going to be something that doesn't make it along. It's my job, though, to make sure it's as few things as possible (well, ideally none, and to be honest I've made more than a few trips without forgetting anything, but I don't want to brag or anything) and as non-vital as possible.
That, I feel, is the essence of packing for a trip. Make sure you've got everything you need, and forget something forgettable if you can. Kind of like expecting the unexpected, just more tangible.
Anyways, as I said, I like packing. It's a game I play between myself, my brain that loves to look at it in a Big Picture sort of way as I try to force myself into a narrower scope to check individual things off, and the things I am trying to pack that try and hide to their best ability.
I already know one thing I forgot for this trip, and I haven't even left yet. My favorite light jacket. Can't find the damn thing. Does that count as forgetting it? It won't be coming with me, most likely. I want it with me. I think that gets to count as forgetting it, even if I know dang well what it is I want to have with me.
I like packing because you have a three-dimensional Tetris game at your hands, of stuffing as much as you can into a humble box, all the while trying to get it under a certain number of pounds. (I also have failed in this regard, but I'm going abroad of a long time, give me a break.) There are infinite combinations and space-saving techniques and so on, but it gives me a small pleasure to finally close the suitcase, finished. After which point I usually open it right back up and chuck a few nearly-forgotten items inside. And do so at least another two times before finally leaving.
Where am I going, though? Well, that's a bit vague. I have an address in Berlin, Germany. I have an itinerary. I have a program I will attend for the next 8 weeks, learning German as fast as I can. I also have no idea where I am staying. Sure, the physical location, but the instructions are a bit vague. I may be staying in a dorm, an apartment, or a house. I have no idea. And I am fine with it.
Some people need to know exactly what is going on, what will happen, at every moment. I do not. I like to think of myself as a kayaker, kayaking down an unfamiliar river. I am skilled at maneuvering and enjoy the challenge of something new, and so I plunge headstrong into situations that require the ability to be flexible, to adapt to new situations and irregularities. They say the best laid plans of mice and men oft go awry. (Well, They being Robert Burns, and They actually said "The best laid schemes o' mice an' men gang aft a-gley.") I could not agree more, and decide that a plan is all well and good, but one must have contingencies and flexibility to succeed if anything goes a-gley.
And so I lay down my plans as well as my clothes and toiletries and various electronics and cords and keys and papers and my passport and some Euros and so on, knowing that there's something that might not make it, regardless of how much I plan, and yet sleep well knowing that everything I need, everything absolutely vital to my survival is with me. Should my plans go a-gley in a bad way I will not be fazed, but instead pick myself up and continue onward. For I am headed to Germany tomorrow as one of the most exciting trips of my life and cannot miss it for anything. I will succeed in my trip, I will succeed in my mission, and make this worth while. Years of other trips have prepared me for packing. My parents have prepared me for interacting with other cultures and peoples from their gracious dragging me along to places as a child. My family and fiancee and friends and more have prepared me for this with their support and kindness.
Now it's time to sit back, sleep, and await a heck of a day tomorrow.
-Daniel
Packing for trips has become somewhat of a common ritual for me. I am certainly no jetsetter, traveling the world and starring in films opposite Vera Farmiga and Anna Kendrick, but I have had the good fortune of seeing more than a few countries in my few years so far.
The ritual has evolved over the years; my mother used to make my sister and me packing lists (don't forget that Plucky Midwestern Can-Do Spirit, they would often remind us,) or simply pack fore us, long ago. But those days are gone and now the task of preparing for a trip falls solely upon myself, albeit with the occasional prod or reminder from a parent or other loved one.
I like packing.
It seems that no matter how many times I pack for a trip, no matter how big or small, there's always something that I forget. Of course I am not the only one to have this happen to them, it's a common occurrence. I don't fear this forgetting of something, as I have long since come to grips with it. There's always going to be something that doesn't make it along. It's my job, though, to make sure it's as few things as possible (well, ideally none, and to be honest I've made more than a few trips without forgetting anything, but I don't want to brag or anything) and as non-vital as possible.
That, I feel, is the essence of packing for a trip. Make sure you've got everything you need, and forget something forgettable if you can. Kind of like expecting the unexpected, just more tangible.
Anyways, as I said, I like packing. It's a game I play between myself, my brain that loves to look at it in a Big Picture sort of way as I try to force myself into a narrower scope to check individual things off, and the things I am trying to pack that try and hide to their best ability.
I already know one thing I forgot for this trip, and I haven't even left yet. My favorite light jacket. Can't find the damn thing. Does that count as forgetting it? It won't be coming with me, most likely. I want it with me. I think that gets to count as forgetting it, even if I know dang well what it is I want to have with me.
I like packing because you have a three-dimensional Tetris game at your hands, of stuffing as much as you can into a humble box, all the while trying to get it under a certain number of pounds. (I also have failed in this regard, but I'm going abroad of a long time, give me a break.) There are infinite combinations and space-saving techniques and so on, but it gives me a small pleasure to finally close the suitcase, finished. After which point I usually open it right back up and chuck a few nearly-forgotten items inside. And do so at least another two times before finally leaving.
Where am I going, though? Well, that's a bit vague. I have an address in Berlin, Germany. I have an itinerary. I have a program I will attend for the next 8 weeks, learning German as fast as I can. I also have no idea where I am staying. Sure, the physical location, but the instructions are a bit vague. I may be staying in a dorm, an apartment, or a house. I have no idea. And I am fine with it.
Some people need to know exactly what is going on, what will happen, at every moment. I do not. I like to think of myself as a kayaker, kayaking down an unfamiliar river. I am skilled at maneuvering and enjoy the challenge of something new, and so I plunge headstrong into situations that require the ability to be flexible, to adapt to new situations and irregularities. They say the best laid plans of mice and men oft go awry. (Well, They being Robert Burns, and They actually said "The best laid schemes o' mice an' men gang aft a-gley.") I could not agree more, and decide that a plan is all well and good, but one must have contingencies and flexibility to succeed if anything goes a-gley.
And so I lay down my plans as well as my clothes and toiletries and various electronics and cords and keys and papers and my passport and some Euros and so on, knowing that there's something that might not make it, regardless of how much I plan, and yet sleep well knowing that everything I need, everything absolutely vital to my survival is with me. Should my plans go a-gley in a bad way I will not be fazed, but instead pick myself up and continue onward. For I am headed to Germany tomorrow as one of the most exciting trips of my life and cannot miss it for anything. I will succeed in my trip, I will succeed in my mission, and make this worth while. Years of other trips have prepared me for packing. My parents have prepared me for interacting with other cultures and peoples from their gracious dragging me along to places as a child. My family and fiancee and friends and more have prepared me for this with their support and kindness.
Now it's time to sit back, sleep, and await a heck of a day tomorrow.
-Daniel
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