So close, I can taste it!

Initially, when reading that title, you would think I am referring to the fact that I have less than four weeks left in Germany. And in a way, that is not entirely incorrect. I will give you an example of a time when this realization hit home.

Last night, I had dinner with Kelsi, Mia, and Ah Hyeon, the latter of whom had prepared the rest of us an amazing meal of traditional Korean home-cooking. Up to that point, I had taken some pride in my cooking abilities and my knowledge gained from years and years of watching my dad cook. Even if I do not have any personal experience, such as in making a homemade apple pie, I at least know enough about it to be not completely clueless when I finally attempt something (those three apple pies I baked for American Night turned out to be heavenly--thanks Dad!!). But then, as Ah Hyeon laid these incredibly tasty dishes out on front of us, I was justifiably humbled. One of friendly modesty, Ah Hyeon admitted that her experience in cooking was limited, but it did not matter. She had managed to scrounge together one of the best meals I have had in Europe, and that is saying a lot.

Once dinner was over, we sat for a couple more hours making jokes and taking embarrassing pictures for memories' sake. But all at once, staring at the map of Germany on Ah Hyeon's wall, and glancing at all the places I have already been, it hit me like a ton of feather pillows that I was done traveling, and that I was soon to go home, where traveling consisted of the trip to and from AU, and occasionally the trip to and from Ohio Wesleyan to visit my sisters. I knew that our time was coming to a close, but something about that map made it real. And that made me a little sad.

So we spent the rest of the night planning out a photo scavenger hunt we still have the dream of playing before we all go back to our respective corners of the globe. But as time runs short, and we come upon more and more obstacles--namely those darn Hausarbeiten (semester projects)--we are starting to feel, even though we have not had the heart to say it out loud to each other, that it may not happen. I remember one of our first weekends here, when we were exploring the city of Erfurt. I think we were talking about the scavenger hunt even then, but in context I no longer remember, one of us remarked, "It doesn't matter. We have plenty of time." Sitting in a moment of silence last night, I think all four of us simultaneously wondered to ourselves where that time had gone.

In any case, what I was actually referring to in the title is the fact that I am a conclusion away from finishing my first paper of the semester. It has shockingly been six months since I have written one of any length, which is nearly impossible for a student of English, History, and Political Science like me, who has written almost as many words as hours that I have been alive, to comprehend. Thus, the feeling of an almost completed paper after so long of a break is a pretty good one, and one that I thought I would like to share.

And I should remark, on a bittersweet note, that the completion of this paper will bring me that much closer to being finished with the semester.

Perhaps that is why it is taking me all day to write it.

Happy Father's Day

This weekend, I have kept myself more than busy trying to get ready for the end-of-semester crunch, working on papers and presentations and reading more than I ever wanted to on nationalism in the Middle East. But I just wanted to take a break from all that school stuff to pay tribute to the fathers in our lives on Father's Day.

First of all, let me just note that in Europe, Mother's Day is a far bigger deal than Father's Day. Shops and restaurants run specials for the mothers, but the fathers do not even get so much as a card on the rack in the post office. Father's Day in Germany was the 17th of May, and really is only an excuse to visit the "Kneipe" (bar). So as a result, I felt the need to acknowledge those great fathers in our lives, since here in the "Fatherland" they seem to have missed the point. Anyone else notice the irony?

In any case, I happen to know a handful of great fathers, not to mention my own dad. You know you are loved and missed when your dad follows your traveling progress on a map of Europe he bought just for the occasion, and who can be counted on for a daily phone call just to chat. And as the date of my return back to the United States looms ever closer, I would be willing to wager money that he is preparing a list of my favorite foods, all of which will be waiting for me as soon as I step in the kitchen door, prepared with all the love that such a great man can bestow. Dad, your thoughtfulness certainly makes me miss you even more. You deserve every minute of honor that comes on Father's Day, and then some.

So here's to you, fathers of the world, who have given love and support to the next generation, serving as role models and paving the way for a whole new round of wonderful fathers and mothers. It is for you that the tradition of Father's Day keeps going.

The Final Heave

This past weekend, I made my last weekend trip of the semester. Originally, I had planned on doing several smaller trips between now and when I go home in July, but as time and circumstances unravelled from speculation into reality, I had to come to terms with the fact that I was out of time. Sure, there are still plenty of weeks left and plenty of places left to go, but what factor I now need to consider, well, a factor is that it is now time to begin writing three papers and preparing for a presentation and two tests. I have finally reached the point where, heaven forbid, I actually need to concentrate on the schoolwork I came here to do.

So I tried to make my last trip a good one: a weekend in the Swiss Alps around the small and friendly town of Interlaken. And while I cannot exactly say the trip was 100% stress-free, for what trip ever is, I can say that it was an incredible trip to call the finale. When I first got to Europe, I devoured art and history museums like someone dying of hunger or thirst, except the need the museums filled was not as tangible as that. It was a hunger to see and to experience the truly sublime of human culture. And I have found it wherever my footsteps have taken me, from the Uffizi in Florence, the Vatican in Rome, and the Louvre in Paris to the British Library in London, the Charles Bridge in Prague and the Neuschwanstein Castle outside Fuessen. The power of human accomplishments has greeted me everywhere I have turned, and I have not been disappointed.

But as my time waned, my appetite for mankind's art was finally satiated, and it was replaced with a need to see the beauty of nature, to experience phenomenons of landscape that have not been conquered by mankind, but instead have always been quite outside of human control. You can build a railway or a gondola up to Jungfraujoch and Schilthorn, but nature still rules. This is why I never got to see either place; the stubbornly thick clouds denied me every possible chance to see the wondrous secrets of those high places for the entirety of my visit. But to stand at the base and to see the mountains towering above me--making me feel my insignificance and the futility of trying to tame such surroundings--was truly a fantastic opportunity. Growing up in a very flat part of the world, there are no words in my vocabulary to do justice to the power and grace of those mountains. Even film supposedly worth a thousand words cannot capture their magnificence. The Swiss Alps are a form of the sublime completely beyond human comprehension. And depending on who you are, this can either agitate or soothe the soul.

For me, obviously, it was the latter.

So despite many snags in my perfect trip, I had a wonderfully relaxing and satisfying weekend. But the end of my ramblings may mean for you, dear readers, that the excitement has ended for you as well. There will no longer be stories of intriguingly new places, but only recounts of my 'settled life' in Erfurt. Train rides are to be replaced with hours spent pouring over books and resource articles, and weekends in unpredictable hostels with the study of the less varied people of Erfurt.

But anyone who knows me will know that this will not be a true hardship, for these things are still interesting to me. They are just another form of the same curiosity that brought me to study abroad in the first place. It just might not be as exciting for you! But I promise that, when I do find reasons to post to my blog, I will make it as entertaining, witty, and insightful as my talents will allow.

And on a personal note to Amy, Jacob, and Aunt Beth: thank you so much for continuing to read and comment on my blog! I am happy that my experiences have helped you, Jacob, to understand a very important part of our world's history, and that you, Amy, have been so supportive of my adventures and have used them for your children's benefit as well. And Aunt Beth, I am grateful that you have found time on your rainy days to write to me! I have heard about some of John's great experiences as well, which means the next family gathering will be a wonderful exchange of stories on all sides!!

Hard to believe, but I only have 5 weeks left...although, at times, it feels as though I have been here for ages and ages. Anyone read "'Europe'" by Henry James? You may not know me when I get back! ;)

Castles, pirates, and a concentration camp

This past weekend I took a trip to Munich, where I did and saw a surprisingly wide variety of things. When I arrived on Thursday, I did my usual tour of the city, hitting the major sights including Marienplatz and the Frauenkirche, which are the two landmarks of Munich. But aside from that, I did not stumble across anything especially noteworthy, which I suppose in itself is noteworthy for such an important city, historically and demographically speaking...



Anyway, on Friday I took a day trip to Füssen and the infamous Neuschwanstein Castle. As you are all probably well aware, this is the castle that was built by "Mad" King Ludwig II, who had extravagant fantasies of creating the ultimate fairy tale castle. Tragically, he died under mysterious cirmcumstances before the castle could be completed, and it was sold off in an attempt to alleviate some of the tremendous debts King Ludwig II had accumulated. But history has saved it from destruction, and Disney has made it legendary as the model for its own trademark castle. Just downhill from the Neuschwanstein castle is the boyhood home of King Ludwig II, the Hohenschwangau, which is far more modest than his creation, but still owned by the King's remaining family. I had the opportunity to see both, and together they were quite a treat. Like any romantic American, I am fascinated by a history where castles could possibly be the norm and by the embodiment of childhood fairytales, but what made these two castles so incredible and worthwhile were the breathtaking surroundings.



I have learned one important thing about myself while in Europe: I am a mere country girl at heart. Before coming here, I thought it possible for me to live in a big city, and to leave behind my close proximity to nature without much heartache. But since coming here, and traveling from big city to big city, and living in Erfurt with a population of 200,000 I have found that the places I like most have either fantastic views or beautiful parks. I loved Konopiste in Czech Republic because of the rugged, undomesticated nature that kept the castle honest, and I fell in love with Vienna and its huge, picturesque city park. Füssen and the two castles, therefore, won a special place in my heart for the beauty of their surroundings. I think the picture below sums it up pretty well:

This is a view from the path up to Neuschwanstein castle. Just imagine having a view like this out your windows! This is MY idea of a dream come true.

The next day I took another trip out of Munich, but this time a much more somber one: to Dachau concentration camp. Dachau was one of the first concentration camps to open under the Nazis, and one of the last to be liberated at the end of World War II. The policies established here made it a prototype for all other camps under the Nazi regime, and also served as the headquarters of SS training; every officer to enter the SS passed through the SS camp located on the site of the old armory and weapons factory, just outside of the concentration camp. Countless prisoners were held here, and countless innocent people died under the cruelty the SS practiced on a regular basis. Even now as I write this post, I cannot find the words to express my comprehension of this important and evil place, so I will just relay what I wrote in my journal afterwards, in a moment of hard-earned clarity:

'When I got to Dachau, I had great trouble wrapping my head around the terrible atrocities that happened there. Like Stonehenge, it had a presence, but this one was heavy and full of responsibility. When going through the crematorium, I expected to feel haunted by the souls who had been released there, but I felt nothing. And then I realized that they had no reason to linger. They were at peace, free from fear and torment, and had already moved on. The horror was all that remained; not the horror of individual suffering, but the horror of mankind in coming face-to-face with its own potential power towards evil, pain and hatred. The place was a warning and a reminder for humankind--an example of human beings at their best (the incredible power of faith and will to survive under such heinous conditions) and at its worst (in causing so much undeserved pain just because they could). Dachau serves as an important lesson, which becomes even more important as the reality of what happened there passes beyond living memory and into the realm of history.'

These were the two sites I most wanted to visit while on my trip to Munich, and this left me with free time to indulge in a bit of American entertainment: Pirates of the Caribbean! The third movie, I found out from a flyer at my hostel, was showing in its original version not far from where I was staying. So of course I could not pass up the opportunity! This is the first movie I have seen in a movie theater for probably six months, if not more. And for any normal American college student, especially one who loves the idea of going to a movie and eating buttery movie theater popcorn that you can only get at a movie theater as much as me, six months is an incredibly long time to go. It was an evening very well spent; the movie was fantastic, the seats really comfy, and still somehow uniquely German. I did not feel transplated back to the United States at all, especially since I don't know of any theaters in America that serve beer, have assigned seating, or let you bring in your own food (quite revolutionary, I know!).

To conclude, my trip to Interlaken in Switzerland will be my last, and most expensive, trip. After that, I have to settle down and begin writing my papers, preparing a presentation on American folk music (in German!), and pulling notes together for two final exams. I figure it is finally time to do the studying instead of the traveling, or people back home will have to start yelling at me (you know who you are!).

It has been quite an adventure, hasn't it?

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."