Three Weeks In!

Seven weeks ago today, I left behind my safety net--my parents, my country, my familiarity with the most seemingly trivial elements of day-to-day life. I tucked the net tidily into my closet, and took only one glance over my shoulder as I departed for the single greatest adventure of my short life. I boarded a plane, endured the turbulence that reminded me of why I wasn't sure I liked flying, and waved goodbye to the continent as it disappeared into the setting sun. For four weeks, I rambled about this new continent, taking in a small portion of the greatest sites the history of mankind has to offer. I marveled at the tribute across the millenia at the temples of Paestum, looked into the eyes of understanding in terrific art throughout Florence, Paris, and Rome. I explored one of the darkest and most glorious moments of human history in Normandy, and was reminded of the undying human genius at Stonehenge. I struggled with language barriers and cultural norms. I lost my way and my sense of direction at the most frustrating moments, and I evaded dubious locals and questionable situations. After those four weeks, I came out so very much the opposite of green (whatever that would be) when it comes to travel, I probably would not have recognized myself four weeks ago. I have changed so much, and yet remained exactly the same--a phenomenon I never considered, and certainly never considered possible.

After so much excitement and constant motion, I settled here in Erfurt, exactly three weeks ago. That first weekend, I had to cope with the greatest contradictory sensations of loneliness and relief, of excitement and anxiety. I met one flatmate, a German who was the epitome of friendliness and good tidings, but who also warned me not to expect such welcome from the rest of Germany--in her words, "Germans are mean!" Perhaps this is true, but more likely it is just one opinion of many, and I will have to determine for myself what my own opinion will be.

Language classes end tomorrow, and while I am not fluent or even self-sufficient, I have learned a great deal in this short time. Of course, the hardest part is still all elements of conversation, but I have at least made progress. I will be very curious to see where I stand at the end of July!

On Saturday, I will again leave behind this settled life, and put aside the progress I have made on my new comfort zone, and with two other girls I will head out to Prague for a week. Already, the difference between solo travel and group travel is both painfully and pleasantly noticeable. Painful, because my autonomy is gone, and compromises have already been made (I am not the greatest at compromise); pleasant, because I get to look forward to sharing my experiences with others, a part of my first month that was depressingly lacking at times. It is one thing to enjoy some great view or museum, but it is entirely another to enjoy it with someone else and to derive additional joy from the joy of another.

I look forward to this new chapter of my experiences here, and even more so to the new places I will see, the people I will meet, and the rocks I will overturn.

Two Weeks and my Impressions

So two weeks ago, I moved in at Erfurt. When I look back on it, I think that the time has come and gone in the blink of an eye, but at other times it seems months since I last traveled and years since I left home. My roommate and I have decided that the days here in Germany are not actually 24 hours, but instead some smaller number. Each night, as I turn on my lamp to either read or do a puzzle while I listen to the news on my iPod, I cannot keep myself from muttering, 'Well, another day gone.' I can only imagine how fast the days will go when I am filling them with hours of classes and homework, social events, and weekend trips around Germany. They cannot possibly get much shorter!

So far, I have found the city of Erfurt truly fascinating, an odd mixture of old and new, with the stereotypical German architecture competing with modern buildings for the bigger statement. Fashion is cutting edge (I have never seen so many truly ugly shoes in my life), rebellious (what do you think, should I dye my hair purple and orange, or should I just get a lopsided buzz cut?), and painfully old (those skin-tight leopard print tights should rest in peace forever in the 80's). Hip teenagers with big sunglasses rub shoulders with cute retired Germans shopping for flowers. And certainly, the old East Germany still has a lingering presence in many of Erfurt's citizens, a fact that cannot be proven or explained. I am not sure many who have lived through it can even pinpoint the differences. It can only be felt in this thriving city's pulse and in its diverse character.

I would have to say that thusfar the greatest adventure has been the task of shopping for groceries. Anyone who has lived in a foreign country can probably relate to the combination of emotions that arise from such an expedition: overwhelmed by the very smell of the store as the door swings open, claustrophobia from the unusually tight aisles and hordes of fellow shoppers, isolation in not understanding the conversations around you, confusion in not knowing how to read the food labels, frustration in not finding the comfort foods you most long for, hesitation in seeing products stored in ways different from home (seriously, milk not refrigerated? This just seems unsafe to me). I have now been shopping several times for myself and with friends, and while I have grown more accustomed to the German idea of groceries, I still have not gotten over the rows upon rows of various meats, cheeses, and breads. Slowly and cautiously, I am trying the weird meats and unfamiliar cheeses. But I still always have the urge to carry a dictionary with me.

Pictures Now Available

Well, it took me the better part of the day, but all of my pictures from the last four weeks are now online. Simply follow the link "Pictures: My Travels and Discoveries" on the top right-hand side of this window.

I should warn you, however, that I have not yet organized them or added comments to most of them, in order to make them easier to view. They are simply put in albums by city (or by day when I visited more than one city in a day), and only my pictures from Venice and Florence have been organized. Look forward to that chore getting slowly completed over the next several weeks.

Erfurt At Last

So let's see, Wednesday I left Bath to go back to London, after a few hours of book shopping and indulging in my biggest weakness (I now have several more books than I started with). Instead of making my way back to the hostel near St. Paul's, I booked a cheap hotel near the coach (aka bus) station, and after getting a sandwich and some apples for breakfast, I retreated to a corner with Jane Austen and Anne Elliot (Persuasion is just as good on a second read as the first), and spent my last night in slightly lonely relaxation.

Today I was up at 5 a.m. and in the airport by 8 a.m. Besides getting delayed, the flight was uneventful but for the complete apprehension I had in the realization of what new adventure I was about to enter. I had gotten comfortable to hearing English all about me, being able to call up a hotel and book a reservation without any problems, and to ask for help without that embarassing sign language. Even in the airport, almost instinctively, I started listening for German, straining my ears and brain to understand what was going on. And so while it still is a little foreign to me, it is certainly more familiar than I had originally expected. I do not feel overwhelmingly intimidated as I did when I first arrived exactly four weeks ago. Perhaps it is partly survival instinct, partly the result of four weeks of quick-and-dirty lessons in life, culture, and travel, or perhaps it is a good indication of better things to come.

Once in Germany, I took a bus to Leipzig, from there a train to Erfurt, and finally a tram to the university. I slightly rushed, because I wanted to catch the people in the International Office before they left for the day. I had chiefly one goal: to get my luggage out of their store room, so that I could enjoy my own music and have my computer back!! It is so sad that I have found myself this attached to my electronics, but it is fruitless to deny that it is any other way. They are at once my comfort objects, my easiest connection to home, and my portal to the rest of the world. Now, as a result, you can look forward to many, many pictures of my trip in the next few days...

In any case, I managed to catch them, and they gave me some tips on grocery shopping and other Wal-Mart-type shopping places for everything else. I imagine that part will be fun and intimidating at the same time, so luckily I am saving that for tomorrow and this weekend.

I am now settled in my room, which I will eventually share with another foreign exchange student, in an apartment with a total of six girls. Of the other four living here, only one is actually in residence at the moment. But Carolynn (proper spelling coming soon!) has proven to be not only welcoming, but also friendly, helpful, English-speaking, and every other trait that could possibly ease my transition. She went with me to get some groceries for the weekend, and was most eager to see my pictures of home and my family. So far, it appears that I am going to have a good living situation, and with people who are more than excited about sharing their space with an ignorant American.

So I am very glad that I decided to travel for a month beforehand. It makes any resting place, even one this far from home, a welcome sight. I do not feel the pangs of homesickness as acutely as I would have otherwise, and I am no longer a green traveler with a dazed look in her eyes. I have seen far more of the world and its people than I ever thought I could, and many of its tribulations are no longer major stumbling blocks, but only interesting curves in the road. To come straight to Erfurt would have been a significant culture shock and very difficult to recover from, if it had not been for these last four weeks. Upon my arrival here, it already felt so familiar, and my trip to the university was not as strenuous as the first time around. It was a relief to arrive, and to recognize where I was. It is still a little difficult to imagine the next five months here, but the short term so far shows itself to be very promising and welcoming.

Charms of Rural England+Amazing Weather=Happy SIGH

Today I took a day trip with a tour group called Mad Max Tours, which was absolutely phenomenal. Not only was the weather the epitome of perfect all day long (it started raining the minute we arrived back in Bath, by the way), but the tour guide was knowledgeable, humorous, and great fun.

We started out the morning by going to Castle Combe, a quaint little village with one street and picture-perfect cottages along a swollen stream. We snuck a peak at the Manor House, now an extremely expensive hotel, from the grounds of which our guide has been banned after a run-in with Michelle Pfeiffer not long ago. It certainly added an extra charm to this unassuming, perfectly typical middle-aged Englishman.

Next we stopped in Avebury, which is a bigger, more accessible, and less expensive version of Stonehenge. Despite the mud, we were able to walk all around, and even touch, the stones of the nearly one-mile-circle of huge stones. Charles (the tour guide) added great commentary to the sight, including a rather tragically hilarious story of a barber-surgeon who was crushed by one of the stones in the Middle Ages when the locals, under directions from the area church, were burying the stones and thus their pagan references. The charm of the sight was richly apparent.

Over lunch we stopped in Lacock, another (although slightly larger) cute town, which has been the sight of scenes from Harry Potter and the BBC version of Pride and Prejudice, not to mention the pub with the longest, uninterrupted license in the whole of England. The food was just ok.

For the finale, we went to Stonehenge. While Avebury was neat in its accessibility, Stonehenge is, well, THE Neolithic sight of all time. Though we were hindered by a rope from getting very close, you do not need to touch the gigantic stones to feel their historical power and energy. Even the memory of them recalls a sense of importance. The pains it took to get the stones there, the ingenuity they demonstrate, and the knowledge of the surrounding world that they reveal are incredibly intense. I joked to friends at home that I had to travel for a month because I had to see Stonehenge, and once I got here I thought it would be a plan unfulfilled. Now, I am extremely happy to say that I got what I came for.

Tomorrow, back to London, so that I can fly back to Germany on Thursday morning. Don't worry, Dr. Schramm, Erfurt IS my ultimate destination and settling spot, and I will eventually take a class or two, amidst further travels and adventures.

Bath: Lots and Lots of Water

I arrived in Bath via bus yesterday, at about 13:00, and of course it was raining. After a little searching I finally found the YMCA where I am staying, which is surprisingly comfortable and well-furnished in many respects as well as being well-located. So I dropped off my stuff, shook out some of the rain, and headed off for some food and some rainy exploring. My wanderings eventually took me over to the Jane Austen Centre, which is a must for all fans. For non-fans or casually interested, don't even bother. There was no much substance beyond an in-depth analysis of Austen's psychological state during her stay in Bath, and the effects this had on her writings, particularly Northanger Abbey and Persuasion. But in any case, it had a deep impression on me, so much so that I fell in love with her wit and genius all over again. I was once again discovering an author I loved and admired. By the end of the short exhibit, I had the strongest desire to reread Persuasion, and luckily the gift shop sold a relatively inexpensive copy, which I have been enjoying ever since. I am about 35 pages in, and the characters have already mentioned places in Bath which I have now personally seen, which adds a whole new dimension to one of her greatest novels.

After that, the pouring rain and the fact that it was Sunday and most shops and sights were closed effectively defeated any further attempts to explore Bath, so I withdrew to the peace of the Bath YMCA to enjoy a long night with Anne Elliot and Jane Austen. I cannot imagine a better way to spend a rainy Sunday.

This morning I was up early and managed to see the Roman Baths and Museum, the Pump Room, the Costume Museum and the Assembly Rooms, the Bath Abbey, and did a two-hour walking tour of Bath's better sights (in the rain, after it had been nice all day, of course). The Roman Baths were surprisingly interesting, and many of the area was impressively intact. I learned perhaps more than I wanted to know about Roman lifestyle and bathing habits, but the artifacts and the actual hot springs were historically appealing. And the hot springs were picturesque, which is always a plus. I can see why the Baths are the biggest attraction here. Just like 2,000 years ago, the city of Bath is a nice spa resort and place to relax. The only difference between now and then is that there are more cars, and they charge you an arm and a leg to sit in very hot water with supposed healing powers, whereas in Roman times you had to have only one arm and one leg to begin with (which you can take one of two ways: either you were filthy rich, or you were in need of some healing in order to come here).

Attached to the Roman Baths was the Pump Room, which was a very upscale place to see and be seen in Jane Austen's Bath. When I walked in, I was greeted by the sweet tinkling of expensive dishes, quiet conversation, and the most amazing string quartet I have ever heard. I could not help but to feel out of place in this posh cafe, and I certainly felt a small portion of Jane Austen's aversion to its wealthy attractions. But like a good tourist, I tried the renowned water from the healing hot springs, and was disappointed to find that it wasn't as gross as I was told to expect. For anyone who has tasted well water, it is essentially the same, except for the fact that instead of freezing cold it was as warm as bath water. For that, yuck. But that was its biggest fault. And I can't say that I felt miraculously healed from all of my long traveling aches either.

The Costume Museum was supposed to be this amazing examination of the history of fashion from the last 400 years, but I was sorry to learn that most of the extensive exhibit was closed for some reason. So the most I got to see was about 1800 to the present. It was not really anything new, although it was interesting to see the fancy dresses up close, and I was all for it until the exhibit reached roughly the 1970's. After that, I looked at the clothes and was shocked to see such dissimilarity with what was popular in the U.S. at the same time. Sure, they had a pair of flare jeans, but everything else did not look familiar. The clothes from the 80's and 90's did not really capture the rock and roll culture, the big hair, or many of the embarassing clothes from my youth. In comparison to what I expected, the exhibit was rather tame. This led me to wonder whether those decades in England were significantly different from our experiences in the U.S....

The walking tour was with one of the Mayor's Honorary Guides, and I think he was also one of the oldest men in Bath. But his commentary of the Crescent and the Circus were interesting, if not a little hard to hear. The biggest downfall of the excursion was that it was rainy and windy the whole time, which seems to be the story of the season for Bath (compared to London, which was sunny and beautiful). I would not have gone trapsing all over Bath otherwise, so in this sense, it was a good excuse. I even bought a couple books at the Guildhall Market as a result!!

Finally, the Bath Abbey had amazing stained glass, perhaps the best I have seen beyond the Chagall windows in Reims in France, and it was a welcome relief from the rain and wind. The sculpture on the facade was also very interesting; on both sides of the portal were sculptures of angels climbing a ladder back and forth between heaven and earth. This subject was truly unique, and so memorable in its playful depictions (angels returned to earth by climbing face-first down the ladder...just picture that and try not to laugh!)

Tomorrow I am taking a day-trip to Stonehenge, Avebury, Lacock, and Castle Combe with a tourguide service. Hopefully the weather will cooperate better than my last tour in Normandy, and the weather in Bath thusfar!!

Phase One of England Complete!

Tomorrow morning I leave for Bath, which I hear is beautiful. Can't wait!!

Today I slept in the best I could, what with rather rude roommates, and headed off to the British Museum. This one was incredible; I can now say that I have gazed upon the Rosetta Stone, the treasures of the Sutton Hoo ship burial, the Assyrian Lions, and the Elgin Marbles of the Parthenon, among many many other historical delights. Like the Louvre, I went on and on until I could take no more, and I loved every minute of those almost five hours. It was a morning well-spent in exploring the history of civilization, in all of its complexities.

After that, I did a walk around Trafalgar Square, saw the Horse Guards (poor guys, sitting on horses all day and getting stared at and photographed by countless giggling tourists), stood outside #10 Downing Street (I thought for SURE that I was going to get a glimpse of Tony Blair, but no such luck), said hello to Churchill outside the Houses of Parliament, took some pictures of Westminster Abbey, and walked down to Buckingham Palace. I have to say that the White House is more impressive-looking, but the memorial to Queen Victoria out front is really neat. Although, I will give the royals this, I do envy them for the absolute beauty that surrounds their 'humble' abode; St. James Park and the Mall were absolutely out of this world! They were a touch of peace and quiet in a tumultuous city, a spark of green in a sea of pavement. I stood and gawked at this artificial patch of wilderness far longer than I did the actual palace. The Mall was fantastically lined with the vibrant colors of the British flag, which on such a sunny day made the entire area picturesque and worth the very long walk it took to get there.

Ok, armed with more internet time...

So yeah, the War Cabinet Rooms were pretty cool, to see them in their original state, to feel the immense history and tough decisions that were played out in this underground safehaven for the British war effort. It was amazing.

Even better, the Cabinet Rooms also included a small museum dedicated to THE man of Great Britain: Winston Churchill. It followed his entire life, but focused mostly on the World War II era and the incredible force he was for the Allies. I listened to his speeches, read his letters to his wife, saw the pro- and anti-Churchill propaganda from both sides, looked at his trademark clothing, and viewed footage from his splendid funeral. That museum captured not only the greatness of this fabulous Prime Minister, but also the man behind the greatness. I saw his paintings (which were surprisingly good) and teared up at his childhood letters to his parents, begging them to come visit him. It is easy to fall in love with the legend, but this exhibit made it possible to cherish his struggles and sacrifices, his wisdom and his courage. I spent four hours total in both museums (until they kicked me out at closing time), and I think about 3 of the 4 were spent with Winston. Yet it was not enough time. Fans of Churchill are usually diehard fans, and now it is very easy for me to see why. Consider me one as well.

When I left there, it was dark and raining (surprise surprise, except that it had been beautiful and sunny ALL day!!), and so pretty much any continued sightseeing was not really an option. I made my way back to the hostel, and had a very expensive British burger in the cafe (they use cucumbers instead of their very close relatives the pickle!), which brings you up-to-date on my day. Tomorrow, I am off to the British Library, Westminster Abbey, and hopefully other adventures, as time allows..

So much for that...I should have known better

So my plan last night was to start my day with the Tower of London, then do a little self-guided walk of the area of Westminster and Trafalgar Square, broken up with a visit to the Churchill Museum and War Cabinet Rooms, and then finishing up the day with the National Gallery. Yeah. Right. I should know me better than to attempt such a thing!

I think the main problem is the incredibly short hours of London's top sights. You are lucky to find something open at 9 or 9:30, so forget about 8. I made it to the Tower of London before 8:30, but it didn't open until 9. However, you can bet your last dollar that I was the first one in that wonderfully moat-surrounded, intensely rich piece of British history! I had a great time exploring the past of the entire complex surrounding the Tower of London, including the old medieval palace of Edward I, the rooms of Ralegh and other prisoners, the site of many infamous executions including Anne Bolyn, and the overwhelming collections of the White Tower and its Armoury. But I think I have to draw the line when it comes to the Crown Jewels. I will admit, I was taken in by the expensive sparkliness of the displays, but I could only shake my head in wonder that the very existence of such...extravagance in wealth. I suddenly felt the great divide that separated me from the British people, for no American would ever dream of worshiping those objects, or immediately bowing to whomever happened to wear them. Sure, I was touched and had goosebumps when I watched the footage from the coronation of Queen Elizabeth II, but I think that had more to do with the chilliness of the room, and the incredibly dramatic music that played in the background. I left stunned by how different we truly are from the British, even though we appear rather close in many other circumstances. My love of equality runs too deep to be impressed by very, very, very big diamonds on a rather large and heavy-looking piece of ancient headgear.

After spending hours and hours in the Tower of London, I knew I had to scratch the four-sights-in-one-day plan. So I headed off for Westminster, with the intention of following the walk until I came to the Churchill Museum, and then picking up with whatever time I had left. The Churchill Museum is part of a larger exhibit in the fabulously restored underground War Cabinet Rooms from which Churchill ran the British armies of World War II. The War Cabinet Rooms in themselves were awesome, left in their original states from the 1940's. I had the chance to imagine Churchill and his Cabinet sitting in front of me in the Cabinet Room, complete with original furniture and lighting, and to hear Churchill on the phone with Roosevelt and Truman, in a completely top secret room on one of the first transatlantic secure phone lines.

Oops, out of internet time! Sorry for the teaser!

London

By 7 o'clock this morning, I was waiting to check in at the Carcassonne airport, and after much waiting and turbulence, I touched down in Great Britain a little after 11. Going through customs and passport control was so much easier this time around, perhaps because I knew better what to expect and how to answer the seemingly random questions, or perhaps it was because I was so excited to be back in an English-speaking country. As much as I enjoy French friendliness and Italian culture, there is just something special about coming back to a place where you can understand the announcements on the subway, you can read all of the signs, and you can ask almost anyone for directions without having to make embarassingly universal gestures. I was getting to a point in France where I was hesitant to ask for help, because there is no way to tell by looking at someone whether they will be able to understand you, or whether a few words in French will get them started on a tyrade of gestures and words I cannot comprehend (much to my dismay on several occasions). So in that respect, I feel a sense of relief and even a lower level of stress, just in the knowledge that I can connect so much easier with others.

Of course, I had my first shocking realization that I am not actually back in the U.S. when I got on my bus from the airport, and I boarded it from the opposite side. And as we headed off, and cars sped past on the right, it felt so counter-intuitive, it was jarring. I was surrounded by things seemingly familiar, but yet at the same time, rather different. It is great to be in London, but it was the smaller things that reminded me that I am not yet home.

The only sightseeing I fit in today was a visit to the British Library, and an evensong service at St. Paul's. As a person absolutely in love with books, how could I not love the British Library. For several minutes, I had the opportunity to just stare at the Magna Carta, Jane Austen's writing desk, one of the first editions of the complete works of Shakespeare, and drawings by Leonardo da Vinci. I saw Handel's Messiah and a copy of the Gutenberg Bible!! It was incredible to be in the presence of some of the greatest literary history ever collected into one place. Surrounded by scholars of much more extensive education than me, for the first time I felt my youth and my inexperience. In a room with just accomplishments, I realized how much further I have yet to go.

From the Library I did a quick rush over to St. Paul's in order to catch the service, and found it to be deeply satisfying. The cathedral is a true artistic accomplishment; the mosaics on the ceiling above the altar captured the very essence behind the medieval gold background. As I looked up at Christ and the Apostles in the soft evening light, I really felt as though I was gazing on heaven, and that those distinguished figures were looking down upon us all with love and wisdom. Put together with the wonderful choral music, and you have a topnotch spiritual experience. To escape the teeming streets of London to such a quiet and peaceful place was a welcome break.

Tomorrow is my London marathon, with a visit to the Tower of London, the Westminster area, the Churchill Museum, and the National Gallery. A post tomorrow will essentially indicate that I have survived it, with energy to spare.