Bruges...and an early return

From start to finish, my trip to Bruges was not anywhere close to what I had planned or envisioned. On the train Thursday, I eagerly awaited the border crossing into Belgium. Even though countries border each other, I have come to find that that does not necessarily mean they will look anything similar to each other, and so each new country brings with it a certain level of anticipation and excitement for the first glimpse of the countryside from the train. Belgium, I am sorry to say, was rather a disappointment, not so much in its countryside, which reminded me somewhat of rural America with flat, rolling fields and lots of cows, but in its surprisingly dirty and poorly kept train stations. Even in Brussels, which is a huge travel hub and crossroads for those traversing Paris and London and on into Germany, was not as bright and newish as I have come to expect of big European cities. The city itself, too, had a unexplainable uninviting feel to it. But alas, not every city and not every country can be expected to suit my tastes or expectations! There will inevitably be a dud or two along the way...

When I got to Bruges, the train station there was also dirty, kind of old, and under heavy construction...either that or heavy disrepair, held together by what looked like construction...
But the city, I am happy to say, was charming with its super friendly people and cute canals, which made for fantastic views at almost any given corner. The food was great, and the language barrier, or lack thereof, made it rather enjoyable to wander around and strike up conversations with random people. The city had a good mix of traditional museums and unique sights, and plenty to keep me occupied while I was there. So why, given all that, did I end up deciding the first morning I was there that I could not stay until Sunday? Why did I instead leave on Saturday morning?

Two main reasons: 1.) the city of Bruges was hopelessly overrun with tourists. Not those fun and friendly brand of tourists either, but the tour group variety, who are either super rich and there to snobbishly spend their money on souvenirs that will give them bragging rights back home, or are obnoxiously ignorant of culture differences and are loudly conspicuous about it. This latter type of tourist are the ones who try to bring their culture and their 'enlightenment,' whatever they think that might be, to the given country they are visiting, the type that get loud with a waiter when they say the water is not free or with a sales clerk when they do not have what the tourist is looking for (generally some stereotypical item that they thought would be for sale at every street corner, and are thus shocked and annoyed when they cannot find it). I ran into more of these kinds of tourists in the city of Bruges than I have for the rest of my trip put together. I am well aware that I am also a tourist, but I also pride myself in being one of those respectful tourists who quietly looks at maps or asks for directions, who is just as interested in the cultural differences as in the major sights, and does not make a big fuss if I get water that is carbonated or pop that is warm. I blend in, and I see and experience more of the given culture than any tour group, led by a guide with a purple umbrella or the number 28 on a long stick, can ever hope to achieve. That is one of the great benefits of traveling as a student, and of traveling on a tight budget. I don't get caught up in the souvenirs or the fancy dinners. I travel as a temporary local, getting food from the popular take-out restaurant or the corner grocery store. I sit and enjoy the beautiful views rather than just taking pictures of them. And I don't bring the American philosophy of "I will slow down when I die" with me either.

Reason #2: My hostel was really rather crappy, and I did not want to stay a third night, especially when I already saw everything I wanted to see in one day instead of two. I love having Erfurt to go back to; with a home base, I can decide I don't like a place, and I can just leave early and go back home. When I was backpacking for a month, when I didn't like a city, I had to move on to the next destination, or stick out the crappy place until I was expected at the next destination. I didn't care for Siena, but I still had to stick around until my night train to Paris. So this time, instead of coming to hate Bruges through my worse-than-expected accommodation, I left while I still liked the place.

So I have one week off from traveling, during which the AU in Germany program will be visiting Erfurt (can't wait!) and I will be going to the zoo with my 'Paten' (translated literally it means godmother, so she is somewhat of a host mother...though I don't live with her), and then I will be off to Amsterdam with Mia from Illinois. The week after is Switzerland, and then my European travels will become secondary to end-of-the-semester papers and projects. Wow, that is a little difficult to believe!

DB Delayed?! What?!

So originally at this time, I was going to be on a train to Fulda, which was going to carry me to Hannover, which was then going to put me on a night train bound for Brussels, where tomorrow I was going to spend the day before enjoying two relaxing days in Bruges. Yeah, well, that was the plan...

I got to the station with time to spare; I even had a few minutes to browse in a souvenir shop and a bookstore, but when I came out, I happened to look at the train schedule board, only to discover that my train was delayed by 25 minutes! Anyone who has traveled Deutsche Bahn knows firsthand the speed and efficiency of even the oldest German trains, so imagine my surprise when I learned that not only was my train late, it was very late! Late enough that I was going to miss my night train out of Hannover! But being the seasoned traveler that I now am, I did not panic. Instead, I walked to an automated machine to look up alternate routes to Hannover. But of course, there were none to get me there in time to catch my night train. Even then, I did not panic. So next I went to the Reisenzentrum to ask a live person what my options were. Luckily, I had the same lady who sold me the night train reservation, so she knew why I was there. Unfortunately though, there was no other option that would get me to Hannover in time. At this point three months ago, I would have cried hot, frustrated tears, but instead I asked her for trains tomorrow morning. After a refund and a cheaper reservation for a day train, I walked away completely satisfied about my fate. I was going to Belgium because I wanted a calm, relaxed place with not many museums or castles to see but plenty to make me slow down and just enjoy the loving-life locals, and so rushing or stressing about getting there was entirely senseless. So instead of trying fruitlessly to sleep in a chair (since all the beds were already reserved), I am going to sleep in my own bed tonight, and write a long update for my blog!

Ok, so two weeks ago I went to Copenhagen, which experienced unusually warm and sunny weather the whole time was there--lucky for me! There was not a whole lot by way of formal sightseeing stuff--i.e. museums and very famous landmarks--but there were plenty of neat castles, beautiful harbor and canal views, and friendly locals to enjoy. There was absolutely no language barrier, and every single person I talked to was friendly and eager to help answer my questions or give me directions. At this point in my trip, I am acutely aware when I am in a country that is not overly sentimental to Americans, and so each time I enter one that is not judgmental or indifferent, I can immediately tell the difference. Denmark was such a case, and I cannot help but love the Danish for not automatically hating me.

And then last Tuesday my brother came to visit, which was absolutely wonderful. It was great getting to show a loved one from home where I have been living and going to school for two months, and to just spend time with him. We took a long weekend and went to Berlin and Rothenburg. Berlin is a great German city with so much to see and a terrific amount of history to explore. Berlin is the heartbeat of Germany's turbulent and very recent past, and to see it firsthand made everything we have always read about incredibly real. The city is simply saturated in its history, so one cannot help but to feel that they are a part of that history as well, even if they are just a tourist visiting for the weekend. And Rothenburg is the German version of Carcassonne in France, complete with a medieval wall, spectacular views, and full of wonder. On top of that, Rothenburg is the home of the most ridiculously huge and festive Christmas stores I have ever seen, outside of Brunner's in Michigan, as well as the best souvenir shopping in all of Germany. Alan and I had a great time spending our money here (don't worry, I didn't spend it all on myself--in fact, not even close).

Let's see, what else? The weather in Erfurt turns out to be just as unpredictable as the Ohio weather I have experienced all my life. For awhile, summer seemed to have arrived in fantastic fashion, but now April showers have shown up tardy but still in full force. So who knows what next week will bring, perhaps some snow? hehe

Classes are going if not going well, and my German, I am told, has improved a great deal since I first got here. I do not claim any sort of proficiency at all, except for the amount necessary for survival which I feel is my due. In that respect, I am getting along much better than at the start. In one of my classes, I am the 'token American' which is incredibly embarassing and frustrating at times, but interesting at others. The questions I get asked are completely random, such as: 'where did American men of the 19th century go when they traveled Europe?' or from my one of my flatemates: 'why are sorority girls always so rich, slutty, and big party-goers? (her only experience of America is Beverly Hills...and TV).

And just like at AU, Erfurt has a weekly program where international students from a given country get a chance to present their country, share their culture, and give us a taste of their national cuisine. I have only been to two (for Serbia and for Poland), but both have been interesting and lots of fun. And next week is my turn to present; Tuesday is American Night (Amerikanischer Abend). For someone who has always been part of a majority and therefore completely uninteresting to other people, this is incredibly odd for me. I never in a million years thought I would be a part of a small group of Americans in a foreign country, or that I would be asked to give a presentation on my country to Germans, who are the national majority (as opposed to me as an American in America). The feeling of weirdness cannot be entirely explained, but if you have ever experienced it, you know what I am talking about. So next Tuesday, we are going to try to dispel some American myths and stereotypes, and we are going to have a night of hamburgers, hot dogs, peanut butter and jelly, chocolate chip cookies, and apple pie. Makes me hungry and homesick just thinking of it!

Tomorrow marks 14 weeks since I came to Europe...

What?! It's May?!

So I know I have said this a million times, and yet it never gets old for me (if it does for you, feel free to skip down to the next paragraph!), but seriously, where has the time gone? I will grant you that it feels like ages and ages since I left the United States, but the fact that it is already the beginning of May just baffles my mind. I cannot help but reflect on what I would be doing if I was not here in Germany: preparing for finals, packing to go home, enjoying one of the most beautiful campuses I can think of in full bloom...these are the things that I still enjoy and look on with overactive sensibility, despite the oceans of experience I have crossed since I last saw AU. This week hovers around the halfway point for me, and so I think the beginning of May is even more meaningful to me; it begins the downhill slope towards the conclusion of my adventures!

But don't worry, there are plenty more things to do between now and then. This past weekend, Kelsi, Mia and I made a trip to Jena on Friday, and to Goslar on Saturday. Both, unfortunately were rather disappointing, which is saying a lot because I did not expect much. But they were places to see and offered things to do, even if it was only to wander around a city in search of its quirks and back alleys. Jena can be described as a cute town with cute cafes, and that is all you need to know about it. With a constant view of forested hills at the edge of town, it has a really quaint backdrop. But after a few hours, we had explored without much adventure finding its way towards us, and so we decided to try again the next morning with a new town.

Goslar, on the other hand, came highly recommended as one of the best medieval towns in Germany, and well worth a day trip. And I suppose those recommendations were legitimate; it certainly was a neat town with many typically German medieval buildings, an awesome forested and hilly backdrop, and an interesting witch festival going on (called Walpurgisnacht), but like Jena, it ran short of things to do or adventures to offer.

The highlight of our day, therefore, was the train ride there. We were on an extremely crowded regional train, and spent a portion of the trip standing rather close together squished up against the doors. At Seesen, however, almost half of the people got off, so we ended up sitting in a row facing a middle-aged German couple. At one point, the woman suddenly pulled out a notebook and began to write, which was nothing extraordinary except for the fact that I kept catching her eye. At first I thought it was because she had noticed that I had been staring at her earlier as she ate a piece of bread, which was in such big bites I thought she was literally unhinging her jaw to eat it. But then I quickly realized that she kept looking not only at me, but also at Kelsi and Mia. Only after catching a glimpse of her notebook reflected in the window behind her did I realize that she was not actually writing but was in fact DRAWING US. It was not very long until all three of us noticed and spent several very awkward moments wondering what was the appropriate reaction, at which point the couple started to laugh uncontrollably at regular intervals. I imagine it was at that point that they realized that the woman had been caught in the act. At the time, however, I started to wonder if the picture she was drawing was more of a cartoon-ish caricature than a faithful representation.

But leave it to Kelsi to walk right up the woman and ask to see the drawing! The drawing turned out to be nothing professional, but instead just a rough sketch of an amateur who was struck by something interesting or particularly amusing, which in our case was the fact that all three of us were wearing sunglasses (it was the exaggerated feature in her drawing). Looking back on it, I can only speculate how funny of a picture we presented to this couple; three college girls lined up on a bench, all wearing dark sunglasses, chatting away in English on a German train. Perhaps that one I will never quite understand...

In any case, the five of us shared some moments of awkward giggling--the three of us embarrassed that we were the subject of such interest and crude art, and the two of them uncomfortable with being discovered and called on it. In English, she said to us before we got off the train, "I am sorry. I could not help myself! Please forgive me!" which was accompanied by a half-joking pleading gesture. The whole experience was an entertaining mixture of weirdness, hilarity, and awkwardness, and was by far the best part of our trip.

And lastly, today a student from Ghana asked me about the American dream. He lived in the United States for four years and had always heard this saying, but never knew what people meant by it. So I told him about my grandparents, who were first or second generation German immigrants, who worked as housewives, farmers, and blue-collar workers, and some of whom did not finish their high school education. Then I told him about my parents, who graduated from high school and had skilled jobs, but did not graduate from college. And lastly, I told him about me and my siblings, who are going to be the first in my family to graduate from college. I told him that this is the American dream--to have more opportunities than your parents, and for your children to have more opportunities than you did. It is a chance to be something great, and to be hindered by nothing but the extent of your own ambition. And he said to me, "So you are living the American dream?"

And I replied, "Yes I am."

Two Points Worth Noting

So for the past couple days/weeks, I have been stressing about how much traveling I would like to squeeze into the rest of this semester. I was really bothered about it, trying to figure out how much more solo traveling I could handle (it's a shame the people with whom I wouldn't mind exploring have impossibly different schedules than mine), how much time I should devote to time in Erfurt rather than traipsing the globe, how much more money I am willing to spend, and how much time I should set aside for doing that horrid stuff we all call 'homework.' I asked my friend Mia (who is a soothing comfort to my indecision), my mom (whose objective perspective helps me realign my priorities), and my brother (whose experience and opinion I highly value). All of them had rather different answers, which was helpful and infuriating, because that meant ultimately I would have to make my own decision (I know, such a travesty). But after a really nice, long, and hugely overdue conversation with a friend back home, I went to sleep, and woke up this morning with the answer suddenly very clear and unquestionable. I decided that I am going to all those trips I wanted to, regardless of who can or cannot go with me, and regardless of those papers I will eventually have to write. I will only get the chance to travel like this once, so I might as well make the most of it!

And then this afternoon I had another scare, as I discovered that my Eurail pass would not have enough days to cover all of my desired trips in the time that it is valid. This left me with only a few alternatives: 1.) pay out of pocket for one of the tickets AND skip a night train for one of the trips (which would take two days) and take two day trains instead; 2.) make one of the trips on the next Eurail pass I have to get (which would mean I would have to buy a regional pass rather than the far cheaper Germany pass); OR 3.) cut out one of the trips altogether. After half an hour of elevated blood pressure and careful figuring, I decided that I would take the first of these three options. And while my stomach is still in knots from the last 36 hours of roller-coaster-ride-decision-making, I am relieved that not only will my Eurail pass hold out, but so will my finances and my carefully scheduled homework time.

With that said, here is the line-up for the next 8 weeks:
May 3-6: Copenhagen
May 9-13: Berlin and Rothenburg (with my brother!!:D)
May 17-20: Belgium (still deciding whether just Bruges or also Brussels)
May 24-26 AU in Germany visiting Erfurt!!
May 31-June 3 OR June 14-17: Amsterdam
June 7-10: Interlaken, Switzerland

Looks like a very daunting plan, but I think by now I have proven I can do it. But I do expect to be rather exhausted by the end, in any case!

Second point:
I have gotten to the stage of my time in Europe where things that are American or non-German are starting to strike me with an odd tone. I will give you three examples:
1.) From the hostel in Prague, my friend Mia owes me some money, which she would like to pay in U.S. dollars. When I was checking in my wallet to see if I would have change, the coins looked so strange! They felt like fake money!
2.) On a similar note, in one of the Ashbrook emails, Dr. Foster mentioned the cost of admission to a play showing at AU, and I had to glance twice at the dollar sign. I have gotten so accustomed to seeing only the Euro sign, the dollar sign felt out of place!!
3.) And lastly, I was watching an episode of House online earlier today, and one of the characters had a wedding ring on his left hand. Here in Germany, the wedding band in worn on the right hand, so seeing it on the right has become automatic, while seeing it on the left requires a little extra effort in the thought process to register what it means!

These are rather trivial occurrences, but they just go to show you exactly how much I have accustomed myself to living in a foreign country. In each case, when I finally realized the mental double-take I had to do, I could not help but feel a little shocked...

Registering for Classes

So at home, registering for classes is primarily done online, although I am sure there are people who still fill out the little paper and hand it in personally at the Registrar's Office. In any case, you list the classes you would like to take, get your advisor to sign off on them, and you turn it in. When I register online, I know immediately if there is still room in the class, and if I have a spot or am waitlisted, and I get a confirmation email.

Here in Erfurt, however, the system is rather different. For the first week of classes, you scramble with potentially countless other people to get into the class. There is no registration beforehand; you just show up, sign your name on a paper that does not guarantee anything, and you start taking notes, buying books, and choosing paper topics. The second week, you try desperately to pick up classes to make up for the ones you have already been kicked out of. And then in the third and fourth weeks, you actually register for the classes. Supposedly the start of the semester is intended to give you the chance to 'shop around' before committing to classes. Which is why I have books sitting on my shelf which were for classes I didn't end up taking. I had to buy the books in order to study for a quiz given the first day over some of the course material. This quiz also determined who got to stay in the class; if you scored well, you could stay, if you did poorly, there's the door. Needless to say, buying the books is still no guarantee...

The result is that I have been attending classes for three weeks now, and I have been reading books, doing homework, and researching future paper topics, but only today did I actually register for them. I do not even know for certain that I will actually get to continue in the class. I assume that I am past the stage of getting the boot, even though no one has ever really told me otherwise.

At any rate, yesterday I picked up the paperwork for registering for the classes. For each subject area, such as history or literature, there were stapled sheets listing all of the courses, sometimes twice if the course is offered as both orientation (doesn't count towards degree) and qualification (does count towards degree). Each listing had the course name, the professor's name, the number of credits, the course number, and a barcode. Apparently these barcodes are the 'be-all-that-ends-all' in the course listings. So since I am taking literature, history, and German courses, I had to pick up the listings for all three of those areas, and of the maybe 10 or 15 sheets of paper I got as a result, I had to put a total of 6 checkmarks on them. THEN I had to staple them to another stack of papers, which had my name, student ID number, and my Mentor's [advisor's] signature on it, which also [needlessly] had the interdiscplinary course listings attached to it. So altogether, I probably had a stack of 20 or so papers, with 6 checkmarks on maybe as many pages, if not less. What an incredible waste of paper, and this from a university that charges the students for any copies the professors make, including the syllabus handed out the first day! And all because the barcode is simply the only way to register for classes...

Oh and by the way...How did I turn in all of those papers? Why, dropping them in a wooden box, of course! How else could you do such a thing?

I cannot help but to laugh silently to myself, to find some of these hoops unnecessary, and to contemplate much more efficient and logical systems. But as my brother reminds me, these experiences, even if they are ridiculous, are still part of the reason why I am studying abroad. I am living a different culture, and one that obviously has a different opinion of how to handle the task of course registration!

And I suppose he is right. BUT, I do take pleasure in the fact that whenever I describe the registration system at universities in the U.S., German students 9 times out of 10 say, "That system makes so much more sense! I wish we did it that way..." Somehow this little triumph always makes my patriotism flare...

Week 3 of the Semester

So I survived that crazy 'shopping period' for classes, and managed [unofficially] to get into four of them, besides the two German as a Foreign Language classes. So far, the class on Toni Morrison is very interesting, and surprisingly enough turns out to be mostly in German, besides for the books and I assume the paper at the end. I already understand more of what is going on than I did three weeks ago when I first stepped into the class, which is a good thing (it is sooo much easier to zone out when you cannot understand what is going on). I have a history course on the Middle East, taught by apparently a well-known scholar from Jerusalem. Since this is the first non-American, non-European history class I have ever taken, everything is new to me. The very first day he made the Americans rather uncomfortable with some of his comments about Iraq, but all-in-all he is engaging (and I have long since developed a tough skin; as an American I have not always been well-received during my travels). My other two literature courses are The Gothic Novel and a course on Henry James, which are taught by incredibly different professors. The first is a very scientific, 'let us dissect the meaning of "Gothic"' type person, whereas the second is more of a 'what is the meaning of life' type guy. Both are brilliant in their own way, but whoever came up with the idea of researching for a literature paper and using x-number of secondary sources should be forced to read only instruction manuals for the rest of their lives. I think that is the part about my AU education that I miss most. So AU professors, I should just say that I now fully appreciate your insanely fun and insightful way of going about teaching. Heaven forbid you make me come up with my own ideas and interpretations for what I read, rather than just regurgitating what someone else has already come up with! But, thankfully, I can handle this totally uninteresting way of writing a paper (aka I can BS with the best of them), I just make no promises that I will enjoy it very much.

In any case, the addition of some homework, even though it's a rather small amount, is putting a cramp in my future travel plans. I still have so many places I want to see in Germany and other places in Europe, but I think soon I will have to come to terms with the fact that I eventually will have to write those three papers and prepare for two tests and one presentation (in German, of course). May not sound like a lot, but considering my entire grade is based upon one assignment per class, I have no room for putting it off.

By the way, who can imagine that I have already been in Europe for over 11 weeks?


Anyone?


Yeah, me neither...

Prague and Its People

After three weeks of intense language preparation and Erfurt crash course adaptation, the University saw fit to give us a 10-day break before the official semester began. So what to do? Why, take a trip of course! That is the easy part; the difficulty came in selecting travel companions, especially since we had only known each other for three weeks. But once Mia from Illinois, Ah-Hyeon from South Korea, and I decided that we liked each other enough to travel together, the next difficult decision was: where do we want to go? I suppose that in the telling of this tale, I should admit that I am not always the greatest at compromising with others when it comes to travel plans, especially after three weeks of making all of the decisions on my own. But in the end, after several last minute changes, we finally decided to spend our hard-earned week break in Prague.

Very early last Saturday morning, we embarked on our little adventure, and arrived in Prague that evening. The hostel was conveniently located near the metro stop, but it quickly became clear that it was not really close to anything else, which meant we got our exercise! Since it was too late to explore that night, we tracked down some dinner and snacks and settled down in our dorm to play some cards, in the middle of which we were unceremoniously moved downstairs to make room for a larger group who had pitched a fit about their accommodations and wanted ours. We ended up in a room with three beds…and the computer, which meant people were coming in and out at all times wanting to use the internet. Thankfully, however, it was only for three nights, and was really not that bad but for the long line for the shower every morning.

In any case, we spent the better part of Sunday exploring the Easter festivals going on in Old Town Square. We enjoyed awesome Czech food, including a pizza thing with ketchup and cheese (sounds like a weird combo, but it was great) and a cylinder of fire-baked dough rolled in cinnamon, sugar, and almonds. More importantly, however, we took full advantage of the cheap Czech shopping in the outdoor stalls, and I spent a small fortune on gifts for friends and family back home (sorry, you will have to find out who got what when I come home in July). Not only was this great fun, but the spirit of the festival was lively and happy, and the weather was nothing but sunshine. I think I actually got sun burnt on this trip…Yay for spring!

Prague certainly had a charm that is so different than all the other places I have thus far experienced. The city was teeming with youth and happiness; even those who were older in years had a youthful spirit and looked out at the world with a smile. The rowdy teenagers in the street, who seem slightly threatening in Erfurt, rather felt full of benign goodwill and sweet curiosity in Prague. Street musicians, instead of simply hawking for a coin or two, smiled with the pleasure of the music they played and reveled in the enjoyment they caused in the passersby. On Charles Bridge, I found myself fascinated by an older woman who quietly danced and swayed to a blind man’s accordion. Even though I knew they were a team and she was not a perfect stranger, I was drawn in by her peaceful and benevolent smile that traced her features with enchanted happiness. In comparison to the harsh and cautiously suspicious manners of many Germans I have met, the Czech people are open, eager to help, apologetic when they accidentally bump into one another, love to practice their English with a stranger, and are ready to smile at all those they meet, even including the annoying tourists. They rejoice in their culture and are enthusiastic when sharing it with others. They are proud of their country and their history, and have every confidence in the legitimacy of that pride. Many of Europe’s hot spots offer great museums and fantastic sights, but I think the Czech Republic’s greatest attraction is its people.