This section of my post will not have the usual humor and wit that some have begun to associate with my blog. I feel that I have some duty to point out the differences, as well as the similarities, between the two countries in which I have lived. During my exchange year, I have come to realize that the differences, though sometimes questionable and even odd, are what make our regions of the world unique. Diversity makes us stronger, not weaker.
Of course, you may already know that. Travellers and world thinkers have been preaching the same thing since the concept of seeing the world and becoming tolerant, if not understanding, of other peoples and their cultures.
But something you may not have considered are the similarities, and the consequences they bring. Human nature is a strange thing, which man has pondered over since he learned to become intro-spective. We have all seen the good and the corresponding bad sides of human nature to some degree or other.
Well, this thursday I became aware of just how alike we humans are. (Before I tell you what transpired, or rather, did not transpire, allow me to assure you that no one was hurt, at least not physically.) While the better side of mankind was sending aid and organizing global efforts for the people of Japan, someone was composing something far less honorable. An online threat to the students and staff of my Gymnasium, or school here in Germany.
The threat was posted on an online gossip site, and simply said that on Friday the piece of scum in question would kill whoever was attending school that day. The police became involved, and Friday passed normally, save for the fact that there were only six people, including myself, in my final two periods of Chemistry.
The online threat also brought this gossip site to the public's attention. I have personnally seen the website, and I am disgusted and, frankly, disappointed with the level of inhumanity or rather humanity of it. The reality is that the site has become a forum where anyone may say whatever they please about anyone else with the double-edged sword of being anonimous.
They say the pen is mightier than the sword. Well, to be truthful, it is. A sword can only cut flesh, but words can cut into someone's very soul. The misuse of words pains me as a writer. Please, dear reader, do not make the mistake of using words malevolently.
I can only hope that humanity's similarities will be remembered for the good that we have done and continue to do, not the wrong that we do upon ourselves. TGWTC, leaving you with a little something to mull over.
17.3.11
HAPPY ST. PATRICK'S DAY!!! (HUH?!!)
Top o' the mornin' to ye, I be here to be explainin' a bit abou' St. Patty's Day. 'Tis a wonderful holiday, and it be a pity tha' the folks across the sea aren't a wee more knowing 'bout it.
*Clears throat* Please excuse me for that feeble attempt at a written Irish accent. I apologize to the people of Ireland and anyone with red hair. But I can assure you that my odd start to a post will quickly segue into what I would like to write about.
St. Patrick's Day. That decades-old holiday which originated in the land of leprechauns and has worked its way overseas to America. (It pains me that America now looks strange to me when spelled with a "c" instead of a "k," lol) I'm guessing that it probably started to really come to the United States during the Industrial Revolution and the Potato Famine, during which many Irish people immigrated to America to seek better opportunities and basically not starve.
Every year since before I can remember, I have worn green on St. Patty's Day to celebrate the day (and avoid getting pinched! YIKES!!). My freshman year of high school, I had an orchestra competition on that day. I had to come to school ready to drag myself on that awful school bus and go to where the festival was being held. Okay, now I'm going to give you all a minute to thing about typical orchestra attire. When you go to a concert, what are they usually wearing? (Band uniforms don't count. A common mistake, but seriously, people, there is a difference between a flute and a cello, sheesh!)
BLACK, we're always wearing BLACK. Sometimes we really go out on a limb and wear a white top with black slacks, but that's about as colorful we get. I have no idea why we all dress like we're going to a funeral, probably supposed to appear sombre and therefore professional.
Anyway, the night before the festival (and St. Patrick's Day), I was about to lay out my clothes when I thought, oh, this is just grreeeaaatttt (think Frosted Flakes, only Tony the Tiger has suddenly turned into a sarcastic leopord), I am going to get pinched until I'm black and blue tomarrow. But not to fear! Converse Girl has the superpower of creativity!! So, dedicated as I was, and still am, I made myself a green necklace and earrings for the next day. (I didn't have a green shawl, and this was like 9pm, but nice try, guys, lol.)
In case you missed the point of the story (which probably wasn't very difficult to do, considering that my CDO seems to be creeping up on me again...), it's that I like holidays. I like celebrating holidays for the sake of celebrating, and I'm dedicated to that. So this St. Patrick's Day, I was one of the half a dozen or so kids at school who were wearing green. (Take note that at least a third of that half a dozen just happened to be wearing that color today, lol.)
I talked to someone about St. Patrick's Day and they were entirely oblivious to it. I must admit that at times I miss the apparently American mentality of "Let's go crazy and celebrate for the heck of it!" This is why I'm glad that I'll be home in time for the 4th of July. Because sometimes being the insane American is great, but to be considered moderate sometimes is just fine by me. ;)
I suppose at least one thing that I've come to learn about myself during this trip is that I don't have fun standing on the sidelines or sitting around at a party. I don't know if you'd still recognize me if we randomly met at a dance. I'm that girl who's having a good time dancing her socks off and who really doesn't Frankly Miss Scarlet what anyone thinks. And if you don't care, other people don't care either. Trust me, it's a lot more fun to just recognize the fact that, yes, I am a geek, and yes, I am cool with that. TGWTC, decked out in green.
*Clears throat* Please excuse me for that feeble attempt at a written Irish accent. I apologize to the people of Ireland and anyone with red hair. But I can assure you that my odd start to a post will quickly segue into what I would like to write about.
St. Patrick's Day. That decades-old holiday which originated in the land of leprechauns and has worked its way overseas to America. (It pains me that America now looks strange to me when spelled with a "c" instead of a "k," lol) I'm guessing that it probably started to really come to the United States during the Industrial Revolution and the Potato Famine, during which many Irish people immigrated to America to seek better opportunities and basically not starve.
Every year since before I can remember, I have worn green on St. Patty's Day to celebrate the day (and avoid getting pinched! YIKES!!). My freshman year of high school, I had an orchestra competition on that day. I had to come to school ready to drag myself on that awful school bus and go to where the festival was being held. Okay, now I'm going to give you all a minute to thing about typical orchestra attire. When you go to a concert, what are they usually wearing? (Band uniforms don't count. A common mistake, but seriously, people, there is a difference between a flute and a cello, sheesh!)
BLACK, we're always wearing BLACK. Sometimes we really go out on a limb and wear a white top with black slacks, but that's about as colorful we get. I have no idea why we all dress like we're going to a funeral, probably supposed to appear sombre and therefore professional.
Anyway, the night before the festival (and St. Patrick's Day), I was about to lay out my clothes when I thought, oh, this is just grreeeaaatttt (think Frosted Flakes, only Tony the Tiger has suddenly turned into a sarcastic leopord), I am going to get pinched until I'm black and blue tomarrow. But not to fear! Converse Girl has the superpower of creativity!! So, dedicated as I was, and still am, I made myself a green necklace and earrings for the next day. (I didn't have a green shawl, and this was like 9pm, but nice try, guys, lol.)
In case you missed the point of the story (which probably wasn't very difficult to do, considering that my CDO seems to be creeping up on me again...), it's that I like holidays. I like celebrating holidays for the sake of celebrating, and I'm dedicated to that. So this St. Patrick's Day, I was one of the half a dozen or so kids at school who were wearing green. (Take note that at least a third of that half a dozen just happened to be wearing that color today, lol.)
I talked to someone about St. Patrick's Day and they were entirely oblivious to it. I must admit that at times I miss the apparently American mentality of "Let's go crazy and celebrate for the heck of it!" This is why I'm glad that I'll be home in time for the 4th of July. Because sometimes being the insane American is great, but to be considered moderate sometimes is just fine by me. ;)
I suppose at least one thing that I've come to learn about myself during this trip is that I don't have fun standing on the sidelines or sitting around at a party. I don't know if you'd still recognize me if we randomly met at a dance. I'm that girl who's having a good time dancing her socks off and who really doesn't Frankly Miss Scarlet what anyone thinks. And if you don't care, other people don't care either. Trust me, it's a lot more fun to just recognize the fact that, yes, I am a geek, and yes, I am cool with that. TGWTC, decked out in green.
7.3.11
Monty Python Moment #142
I actually have not been keeping track of how many times I have drifted out of a situation simply to look at it from an objective angle and think, "Here's yet another instance in my life that greatly resembled a Monty Python skit."
So today the schedule gods were nice to me and gently guided my Geography and History teachers to not show up. No voodoo going on, and no ironic twist. The magical deities of school classes just decided to cut me a break on a Monday. (Which, unless there is a shuttle launch or some other remarkable event is scheduled, tends to be the least-looked-forward-to day of the week.)
After English, I went home and got to chill for a while before going back to school for Fitness, aka Sport, aka Physical Education, aka why do we have so many darn names for running around the track? Well, something to ponder tonight when you, dear reader, are trying to sleep but cannot due to the fact that I have now made it practically impossible for you to forget this singular question. Oh, find the cup if you can, but be wary... (Sorry, Dumbledor snuck in there...) So just warning you lovely people that this little thought has now been embedded into your subconscious. Your Welcome ;)
Now, where was I? Oh, yes, that institution of mandatory physical activity to which all students are subjected. I have already told you how the idea of me successfully learning to juggle is simply inconceivable, but hey, I deal with it. I try, and when the teacher comes around to tell me what I should be doing, I try to take the advice as it is intended, not as my sensitive American ego perceives it. That is, I try to not let the tone of superiority I half-imagine and control my urge to hurl the cursed tennis balls at the wall as hard as I can. I am very glad that our teacher had the foresight not to ask us to juggle baseballs...
Later in the class, we worked with jump ropes. Now, in the US, jump ropes are for children, having fun, and then for crazy competitions where you attempt to catch sight of the rope as it reaches supersonic speed. In a German PE course, you better take "Skipping Hearts," seriously. But really, can you blame me if I fail to suppress giggles. I mean, come on! It's like I'm eight again!! To me, the jump rope signifies something that does not require me to be the best in order to have fun.
And now I get to work out by skipping rope? Heck yeah!! It brought back so many memories. Way back to that time when I wore my hair in a pony, instead of a bun. Back to when the sun beat down on the blacktop and the sand from the sandbox gave off this dry, desert smell. So there I was, attempting the tricks that had been assigned to my partner and me, when my Sport teacher comes up to tell me not to stomp.
Wait, wow, wow, wow... Did someone just come up, ruin my reverie, interrupt my fitness activity, to accuse me of stomping?! I am sorry, sir, but have you seen me? I am no cream puff or daisy. I am a good ol' American girl, and sometimes, we stomp! (And I would like to admit that my accussed "stomping" was not affecting my skipping rope in some drastic, apocalyptic manner.) It felt like someone had gone back to my origins and told me that I had been wrong. How I jump rope is like how I ride a bike, or form a sentence. It's something I learned very early on, and it's not something that's going to change any time soon.
After this ran through my head, I thought about the irony of the situation. My teacher really needed to help everyone improve how they jump rope for... what exactly? And then the word stomping brought to mind an American elephant (hey, maybe it was born in a zoo) who doesn't give a darn if she steps around daintily. My train of thought then naturally ran to the Monty Python skit in which a man speaks of the life he dreams of, singing, "Oh, I'm a lumberjack and I don't care!"
So I would just like to thank Monty Python for reminding me to take everything with a grain of salt and just keep spinning the rope. TGWTC.. WALASDC (whose a lumberjill and she don't care! jk, Leute, I would never do that to the trees, hahaha!), taking it one PE period at a time!
So today the schedule gods were nice to me and gently guided my Geography and History teachers to not show up. No voodoo going on, and no ironic twist. The magical deities of school classes just decided to cut me a break on a Monday. (Which, unless there is a shuttle launch or some other remarkable event is scheduled, tends to be the least-looked-forward-to day of the week.)
After English, I went home and got to chill for a while before going back to school for Fitness, aka Sport, aka Physical Education, aka why do we have so many darn names for running around the track? Well, something to ponder tonight when you, dear reader, are trying to sleep but cannot due to the fact that I have now made it practically impossible for you to forget this singular question. Oh, find the cup if you can, but be wary... (Sorry, Dumbledor snuck in there...) So just warning you lovely people that this little thought has now been embedded into your subconscious. Your Welcome ;)
Now, where was I? Oh, yes, that institution of mandatory physical activity to which all students are subjected. I have already told you how the idea of me successfully learning to juggle is simply inconceivable, but hey, I deal with it. I try, and when the teacher comes around to tell me what I should be doing, I try to take the advice as it is intended, not as my sensitive American ego perceives it. That is, I try to not let the tone of superiority I half-imagine and control my urge to hurl the cursed tennis balls at the wall as hard as I can. I am very glad that our teacher had the foresight not to ask us to juggle baseballs...
Later in the class, we worked with jump ropes. Now, in the US, jump ropes are for children, having fun, and then for crazy competitions where you attempt to catch sight of the rope as it reaches supersonic speed. In a German PE course, you better take "Skipping Hearts," seriously. But really, can you blame me if I fail to suppress giggles. I mean, come on! It's like I'm eight again!! To me, the jump rope signifies something that does not require me to be the best in order to have fun.
And now I get to work out by skipping rope? Heck yeah!! It brought back so many memories. Way back to that time when I wore my hair in a pony, instead of a bun. Back to when the sun beat down on the blacktop and the sand from the sandbox gave off this dry, desert smell. So there I was, attempting the tricks that had been assigned to my partner and me, when my Sport teacher comes up to tell me not to stomp.
Wait, wow, wow, wow... Did someone just come up, ruin my reverie, interrupt my fitness activity, to accuse me of stomping?! I am sorry, sir, but have you seen me? I am no cream puff or daisy. I am a good ol' American girl, and sometimes, we stomp! (And I would like to admit that my accussed "stomping" was not affecting my skipping rope in some drastic, apocalyptic manner.) It felt like someone had gone back to my origins and told me that I had been wrong. How I jump rope is like how I ride a bike, or form a sentence. It's something I learned very early on, and it's not something that's going to change any time soon.
After this ran through my head, I thought about the irony of the situation. My teacher really needed to help everyone improve how they jump rope for... what exactly? And then the word stomping brought to mind an American elephant (hey, maybe it was born in a zoo) who doesn't give a darn if she steps around daintily. My train of thought then naturally ran to the Monty Python skit in which a man speaks of the life he dreams of, singing, "Oh, I'm a lumberjack and I don't care!"
So I would just like to thank Monty Python for reminding me to take everything with a grain of salt and just keep spinning the rope. TGWTC.. WALASDC (whose a lumberjill and she don't care! jk, Leute, I would never do that to the trees, hahaha!), taking it one PE period at a time!
24.2.11
Kein Pw...
So this morning I heard the alarm ring and pressed "snooze," just like every school day (6:40). Then, five minutes later, my alarm rang again and I hauled myself out of my nice, warm, cozy bed to face the reality of another school day. Not the top of my list of "places to be," but it's not at the bottom either (6:45). I got dressed, put in my contacts, and brushed my teeth. Then I went back to my room to get all my school stuff together (7:00). Got all the books in my bag, turned of my phone and stashed it in my backpack, did a quick swipe of makeup, made sure that my hair wasn't a mess, and all the other random little things I do every morning. After I was ready, I went downstairs (7:15). Said goodmorning to my host mom, popped some bread in the toaster, grabbed two bottles of juice, took bread out of the toaster and smeared it with yummy cheese, packed up everything, got bundled up in my coat and scarf, said goodbye to my host mom, and left (7:25).
I'll fast-forward through my whole walk to school. It's not all that interesting, and a bit like many of the passages in Victorian period novels. That is to say, it would leave you wondering, why the heck is she telling me all this?? (Well back then most authors were paid by the page, so now we have to trudge through chapters about nothing but how the house was situated on a large green hill, but that's another story.)
When I arrived at school, cheeks a bit pink from the cold wind, I still had about ten minutes before the first class started (7:50). I went over to the board where the sheet of teacher absences hangs like a bulletin telling you when you get to stop cramming your head full of information and go home. I checked today's sheet first, double checked it, cross-referenced it with my schedule, and sighed.
My first class of the day was Politikwissenschaft, commonly abbreviated simply "Pw." I had spent almost two hours the night before working on the homework and learning about the German Bundesrat. (Thank-you to my CR for all her help!!!) After Pw, I would have had two free periods. I could have gotten up about three hours later, if I had chosen to do so. Now, looking at the paper on that wall, part of me wanted to find out my teacher's phone number, call him, and then complain in spanish so he hopefully wouldn't recognize who he was speaking to. Thankfully I have managed to restrain myself from any such action (8:00).
And now I'm here, at my house, letting you all know about my interesting morning. Sometimes the German school system works to my advantage, letting me have a couple free periods here and there to relax a bit or sleep in. Not to mention that every day is a different set of classes since we're on a block schedule. But sometimes the whole when-your-teacher-isn't-there-you-don't-have-to-come thing gets on my nerves. It's like someone takes my schedule and, every day, decides what arrangement of holes to punch in it, leaving me with a plan like swiss cheese.
Well, time to get ready for the rest of my school day! I have an English speech about American school pride to make, and some home-made rice crispie treats to take to school! Wish me luck! TGWTC, navigating her swiss cheese schedule.
I'll fast-forward through my whole walk to school. It's not all that interesting, and a bit like many of the passages in Victorian period novels. That is to say, it would leave you wondering, why the heck is she telling me all this?? (Well back then most authors were paid by the page, so now we have to trudge through chapters about nothing but how the house was situated on a large green hill, but that's another story.)
When I arrived at school, cheeks a bit pink from the cold wind, I still had about ten minutes before the first class started (7:50). I went over to the board where the sheet of teacher absences hangs like a bulletin telling you when you get to stop cramming your head full of information and go home. I checked today's sheet first, double checked it, cross-referenced it with my schedule, and sighed.
My first class of the day was Politikwissenschaft, commonly abbreviated simply "Pw." I had spent almost two hours the night before working on the homework and learning about the German Bundesrat. (Thank-you to my CR for all her help!!!) After Pw, I would have had two free periods. I could have gotten up about three hours later, if I had chosen to do so. Now, looking at the paper on that wall, part of me wanted to find out my teacher's phone number, call him, and then complain in spanish so he hopefully wouldn't recognize who he was speaking to. Thankfully I have managed to restrain myself from any such action (8:00).
And now I'm here, at my house, letting you all know about my interesting morning. Sometimes the German school system works to my advantage, letting me have a couple free periods here and there to relax a bit or sleep in. Not to mention that every day is a different set of classes since we're on a block schedule. But sometimes the whole when-your-teacher-isn't-there-you-don't-have-to-come thing gets on my nerves. It's like someone takes my schedule and, every day, decides what arrangement of holes to punch in it, leaving me with a plan like swiss cheese.
Well, time to get ready for the rest of my school day! I have an English speech about American school pride to make, and some home-made rice crispie treats to take to school! Wish me luck! TGWTC, navigating her swiss cheese schedule.
3.2.11
Winterferien! :D
I'm on Winter break at the moment, because yes, it is still Winter here in Germany! I've decided to devide this entry into two main parts, each recounting a bit of the two travelling adventures I've had lately.
I'll start with the basics: You are hiking in the Japanese mountains, two snow leopards are stalking you, and your katana is frozen in its sheath.. jk, random quote from this season of 30 Rock. Couldn't help myself. ;)
Now, onto the real story. The weekend before last I went to Cologne and Bonn for the mid-year seminar for my foreign exchange student program. Ich habe viel angst ueber ein Sprachtest gehapt, aber wir haben das nicht genommen, weil wir sind total BOSS! (I was anxious about a speaking test, but we didn't take one because we are so... well, you can understand the last part, lol) It was great to get to go around these amazing cities with my language camp friends, most of whom I hadn't seen for about five months.
Apart from the spectacular architecture (and, frankly, SCHLECHT weather) that we got to see, there were also some interesting, often amusing highlights. (Really, fifty nearly German-ized American exchange students all together for a weekend. Classic slip-on-banana-peel just waiting to happen!)
So there was obviously this odd sort of language going on. Sometimes we find it difficult to think of the name for something in English, Deutsch, and, sometimes, either language. What results is our own version of "Danglisch." The especially funny cases of this occur when a student uses both English and Deutsch in the same sentence. (For example: Dude, gib mir a spoon, please. Meins ist.... uh, uh, what's that wort nochmal??) You can see how it is gradually becoming more difficult for other people to understand us when to communicate with one another, lol.
In addition to our odd language development, I've noticed some other changes in the CBYX-ers. When the other Berliners (not a donut!!) and I coincidentally ran into/ on purpose found a group of our long lost friends in the train station upon arrival, I couldn't help but give them all a twice-over. Some were taller, some had more defined features, but almost all of us were dressing like GERMANS! (Note: When you start dressing like a German, it is one more sure sign that you are becoming German-ized. At least, in my opinion.. And this blog is pretty much composed of my opinions, so I expect my readers to take comments like this as opinion, not fact. But I'm pretty sure that you loverly people knew that already) ;)
The regional placement differences really started to become prominent when we started speaking to each other auf Deutsch. Sometimes someone from the far north would be speaking to someone to the far south and they would have to switch to English because the accents would be too difficult to decipher. And those of us living in Berlin apparently tend to say more of an "Ick" instead of "Ich." I, of course, being the odd ball that I am, have settled on something in-between.
But I must say that, apart from the personal crazy and funny anecdotes that I have acquired, the most amusing part of this trip occurred when we were all waiting in line for dinner... I'm not sure quite how it started, but someone started boasting about the soccer team of their region and then someone from an opposing region started arguing with them. And they were "discussing" this all auf Deutsch! They looked so much like typical, devoted German soccer fans that it was all I could do to not burst out laughing. Those who know me know that when I laugh especially hard, I usually end up with tears streaming down my face in a torrent. And at the end of that weekend, I had shed enough "laughing tears" to fill the nearby Rhein River.
Whew, now, onto this week! Well, after having an odd and surprisingly short week of school, I am now on Winter Break. It has so far been a very relaxing and revitalizing experience. (Hanging with my CBYXers was also revitalizing, but relaxing? Nope, we're too insane and interesting and there are simply too many of us for that to be relaxing, lol. Love you guys!!)
For the break, I went to Dresden with my host family. We went with my host mom's aunt and our adorable little (LOUD) beagle as well. (Lotte, baby, du bist ein sweetheart, aber manchmal du bist wie "Moaning Mertle"!) We stayed at this wonderful hotel which is also a wellness center right on the Elbe River. I got to have a back massage as well as a face and neck massage. And the pool that they had was not too warm, not too cold. (Unlike CA pools, which almost always seem to be freezing! Unless, of course, it's a jacuzzi.) Above this Goldilocks pool was a ceiling with lights that changed colors, so it was pleasant to just float on the surface and watch the colors go from one to the other, like a pretty, alien sky. (Or did she mean "pretty alien"? lol. The world may never know- quote from the movie they show you in line for the Indiana Jones Ride at Disneyland.)
We made two trips into Dresden itself, which is simply a beautiful city, with old palaces, new shopping malls, and reconstructed bits all in-between. (In case you didn't know the history about Dresden, it was fire-bombed during the second World War. The bombing is still considered controversial due to its lack of industrial targets. What was destroyed the most was Dresden's architecture and population.)
Today, on our way back to Berlin, we stopped by Meissen, which is where Meissen porcelain is created. The tour was ingenious, taking us through rooms in which an artist would show us their craft while an audio-recording explained what they were doing. I dare you to think of extraordinary craftsmanship, and then multiply it by ten. This is what they do at Meissen. (Oh, and by they way, their price tags reflect that. Just so you're aware..) If you'd like to identify something as Meissen porcelain, just look for the Meissen mark of two crossed swords (in blue) on the underside of the piece. DO NOT PASS THIS UP AT A GARAGE SALE!!!
And in addition to all this excitement, I still have a few days left until the week (and school) begins. I think I'll go for a jog, drink some hot chocolate, and work on my German conjugating skills (or lack thereof- House, M.D.) I think that brings me to three random quotes in this post? Man, I've got to stop remembering every film or television episode I've ever seen! TGWTC and her odd memory, back in Berlin.
I'll start with the basics: You are hiking in the Japanese mountains, two snow leopards are stalking you, and your katana is frozen in its sheath.. jk, random quote from this season of 30 Rock. Couldn't help myself. ;)
Now, onto the real story. The weekend before last I went to Cologne and Bonn for the mid-year seminar for my foreign exchange student program. Ich habe viel angst ueber ein Sprachtest gehapt, aber wir haben das nicht genommen, weil wir sind total BOSS! (I was anxious about a speaking test, but we didn't take one because we are so... well, you can understand the last part, lol) It was great to get to go around these amazing cities with my language camp friends, most of whom I hadn't seen for about five months.
Apart from the spectacular architecture (and, frankly, SCHLECHT weather) that we got to see, there were also some interesting, often amusing highlights. (Really, fifty nearly German-ized American exchange students all together for a weekend. Classic slip-on-banana-peel just waiting to happen!)
So there was obviously this odd sort of language going on. Sometimes we find it difficult to think of the name for something in English, Deutsch, and, sometimes, either language. What results is our own version of "Danglisch." The especially funny cases of this occur when a student uses both English and Deutsch in the same sentence. (For example: Dude, gib mir a spoon, please. Meins ist.... uh, uh, what's that wort nochmal??) You can see how it is gradually becoming more difficult for other people to understand us when to communicate with one another, lol.
In addition to our odd language development, I've noticed some other changes in the CBYX-ers. When the other Berliners (not a donut!!) and I coincidentally ran into/ on purpose found a group of our long lost friends in the train station upon arrival, I couldn't help but give them all a twice-over. Some were taller, some had more defined features, but almost all of us were dressing like GERMANS! (Note: When you start dressing like a German, it is one more sure sign that you are becoming German-ized. At least, in my opinion.. And this blog is pretty much composed of my opinions, so I expect my readers to take comments like this as opinion, not fact. But I'm pretty sure that you loverly people knew that already) ;)
The regional placement differences really started to become prominent when we started speaking to each other auf Deutsch. Sometimes someone from the far north would be speaking to someone to the far south and they would have to switch to English because the accents would be too difficult to decipher. And those of us living in Berlin apparently tend to say more of an "Ick" instead of "Ich." I, of course, being the odd ball that I am, have settled on something in-between.
But I must say that, apart from the personal crazy and funny anecdotes that I have acquired, the most amusing part of this trip occurred when we were all waiting in line for dinner... I'm not sure quite how it started, but someone started boasting about the soccer team of their region and then someone from an opposing region started arguing with them. And they were "discussing" this all auf Deutsch! They looked so much like typical, devoted German soccer fans that it was all I could do to not burst out laughing. Those who know me know that when I laugh especially hard, I usually end up with tears streaming down my face in a torrent. And at the end of that weekend, I had shed enough "laughing tears" to fill the nearby Rhein River.
Whew, now, onto this week! Well, after having an odd and surprisingly short week of school, I am now on Winter Break. It has so far been a very relaxing and revitalizing experience. (Hanging with my CBYXers was also revitalizing, but relaxing? Nope, we're too insane and interesting and there are simply too many of us for that to be relaxing, lol. Love you guys!!)
For the break, I went to Dresden with my host family. We went with my host mom's aunt and our adorable little (LOUD) beagle as well. (Lotte, baby, du bist ein sweetheart, aber manchmal du bist wie "Moaning Mertle"!) We stayed at this wonderful hotel which is also a wellness center right on the Elbe River. I got to have a back massage as well as a face and neck massage. And the pool that they had was not too warm, not too cold. (Unlike CA pools, which almost always seem to be freezing! Unless, of course, it's a jacuzzi.) Above this Goldilocks pool was a ceiling with lights that changed colors, so it was pleasant to just float on the surface and watch the colors go from one to the other, like a pretty, alien sky. (Or did she mean "pretty alien"? lol. The world may never know- quote from the movie they show you in line for the Indiana Jones Ride at Disneyland.)
We made two trips into Dresden itself, which is simply a beautiful city, with old palaces, new shopping malls, and reconstructed bits all in-between. (In case you didn't know the history about Dresden, it was fire-bombed during the second World War. The bombing is still considered controversial due to its lack of industrial targets. What was destroyed the most was Dresden's architecture and population.)
Today, on our way back to Berlin, we stopped by Meissen, which is where Meissen porcelain is created. The tour was ingenious, taking us through rooms in which an artist would show us their craft while an audio-recording explained what they were doing. I dare you to think of extraordinary craftsmanship, and then multiply it by ten. This is what they do at Meissen. (Oh, and by they way, their price tags reflect that. Just so you're aware..) If you'd like to identify something as Meissen porcelain, just look for the Meissen mark of two crossed swords (in blue) on the underside of the piece. DO NOT PASS THIS UP AT A GARAGE SALE!!!
And in addition to all this excitement, I still have a few days left until the week (and school) begins. I think I'll go for a jog, drink some hot chocolate, and work on my German conjugating skills (or lack thereof- House, M.D.) I think that brings me to three random quotes in this post? Man, I've got to stop remembering every film or television episode I've ever seen! TGWTC and her odd memory, back in Berlin.
17.1.11
Wait.. Reverse That, Play it Back
Alrighty, so, another day, another post. If you've noticed how I tend to start my posts like this, it's because I need a few lines to compose myself and organize my thoughts. It's like a speech, only electronic and I can't see to whom I am speaking or their reactions.
How bout we start this entry out with what's on my mind at the moment. One, physical education and I do NOT mix. (My elbow, hip, and head are reminding me of this right now.) Long story short, I started Fitness in school today, and I slipped and fell on my side, banging all of the above mentioned body parts against the hard wood floor while I was at it. I got back up, and after a bit, kept going. Then I managed to hit MYSELF in the head with a rubber ball. But wait, it gets better...
Though the accidental self-infliction of injuries was over, the instructor had to take it further by having us learn how to juggle. Yes, that's right. JUGGLE. In no way, shape, or form; in no point in my life; in no alternate universe; can I possibly come close to being able to attain the skill of juggling. So basically the picture was me standing there, sweating, hair a bit messy, holding juggling balls in my hand, thinking, uh-uh, nope, ich kann das nicht machen. (Oh, I tried of course.) Aber neh, ich kann das nicht machen, lol. You know, Bella Swan was considered a klutz, but she has NOTHING on me. (And no, I am not endorsing Twilight or any works of Stephanie Mayer, all rights reserved, copywrite prohibited.)
Two, now that the sun is gracing us with it's occasional presence, I can tell when it sets here, and I have to say, it is WAY too early.
Three, I am going to be one of the worst examples of a typical college student ever. I will not stay out late partying, and I will drink non-alcoholic beverages. (Because I'm just strange that way.)
Four, Rosetta Stone is most likely going to scream at me when I finish this entry and work on that again. R.S., I would like to formally apologize for my behavior as of late. I have neglected our relationship, and you have every right to be angry with me. But please, don't take back the software, lol. (If your name happens to have these initials, I would also like you to know that this is absolutely NOT directed towards you in any way... but I would be interested to know if there happens to be the coincidence, hahaha.)
Five, I had one of the craziest Saturdays one can have without going to Vegas. Read on before you judge. Day started out normal. Went to a Japan Festival in Berlin to see the Taiko drummers with a couple of exchange student friends. (I've been to the Nisei Week Parade in Little Tokyo in LA several times with my Dad and Brother, and I didn't realize how much I'd missed my Lil' Tokyo. I'm from the LA area, we sometimes speak that way, lol.) Then we went to an Irish pub/restaurant afterward to catch up. I got home around six using public transportation (s-bahn and bus), and this is where the crazy begins...
My host sister's birthday was Sunday, so she had a party with two other girls whose birthdays are also around that time. The party was fun, but I really just cannot function past 12:30 in the morning. I left around 1:30 with a few friends in the hope that I could get home and just go to sleep. But fate had other plans.... On a bus on the way home, a fight nearly broke out because this one (probably intoxicated) man got the strange idea into his head that one of the guys from our party was part of a gang because of the color of his scarf. We managed to escort the man off the bus, but not before the bus driver had called the police. The police showed up, and we sat and waited until they were done interviewing the people involved. By the time I got home, it was 4:30am, and I was beyond exhausted. On the up-side, I won a solitaire game on my phone while we waited for the police to finish. Hahaha :)
Six, the birds are coming back to the area as the weather gets a bit warmer. I can hear them in the morning, before the sun's up. It's so nice to hear the sound again. (Sidenote: No, I am not going soft, I am just appreciating things for what they are. I have analyzed Snow White, and while I have not yet isolated the exact reason for it, I have come to the conclusion that something is not right behind those big brown eyes... If I did not mention this beforehand, let me say it now: Please to not read my blog to your children if you think they will be upset by my attacking Disney characters with logic; I'm likely to do this a few more times before the year is out. I simply cannot help myself.)
Seven, authors are cruel. Yes, some are kind enough to weave an intricate plot and to create intriguing characters to carry it out. And then, they have their fun by pulling their readers right and left in a sometimes-exhilarating, sometimes-terrifying ride to get to the end, the finale, the conclusion, the resolution. Now, I'm not saying that every story should have a definitive conclusion and resolution. I have come to find that many short stories are even better for leaving the reader with certain unanswered questions. (For example, the thoughts that stayed with me after finishing Dracula still pop up in my head once every now and then. Oh, and DO NOT, I repeat, DO NOT attempt to read this book at night. This is not some kind of reverse psychology statement; I sincerely care about your mental state. For those of you who ignore my warning, I will not speak to you when you happen to be up freaking out at two in the morning and I happen to be online because of the time difference, so there.)
Back to authors... ah, yes, stories without a conclusion. Allow me to phrase my next few ideas in the form of a statement to authors: As a reader, I dedicate my time and my imagination to books. I read quite avidly, glancing at the clock and then reading just one more page, just one more chapter.. I wait as patiently as I can for the next book in a series to be released. And when finally the last book comes out, I savor it, just like the dessert after some tasty meal. So, my dear authors, I pose to you this question: why have you created world and woven these complex scenarios and problems, so tangled and interlocking it sometimes requires pen and paper to keep it all straight, and then build and build upon it like some great structure, reaching for the sky, all to chop it off at the top? As a reader, I implore you not to create problems in your literature to which you have no possible solution. Because, trust me, if we do not do our characters and our stories justice, someone else will...
Well, seven's supposedly lucky, so I'll end off here. Was lovely just ranting like that. I wonder if that's part of what makes a writer, his ability to rant... oops! different tangent, lol. Better go before I'm tempted to write about any other random topic!! Tha' gerl wot has tha' convers, pa'in' 'er respec' t' won a' them books ;)
How bout we start this entry out with what's on my mind at the moment. One, physical education and I do NOT mix. (My elbow, hip, and head are reminding me of this right now.) Long story short, I started Fitness in school today, and I slipped and fell on my side, banging all of the above mentioned body parts against the hard wood floor while I was at it. I got back up, and after a bit, kept going. Then I managed to hit MYSELF in the head with a rubber ball. But wait, it gets better...
Though the accidental self-infliction of injuries was over, the instructor had to take it further by having us learn how to juggle. Yes, that's right. JUGGLE. In no way, shape, or form; in no point in my life; in no alternate universe; can I possibly come close to being able to attain the skill of juggling. So basically the picture was me standing there, sweating, hair a bit messy, holding juggling balls in my hand, thinking, uh-uh, nope, ich kann das nicht machen. (Oh, I tried of course.) Aber neh, ich kann das nicht machen, lol. You know, Bella Swan was considered a klutz, but she has NOTHING on me. (And no, I am not endorsing Twilight or any works of Stephanie Mayer, all rights reserved, copywrite prohibited.)
Two, now that the sun is gracing us with it's occasional presence, I can tell when it sets here, and I have to say, it is WAY too early.
Three, I am going to be one of the worst examples of a typical college student ever. I will not stay out late partying, and I will drink non-alcoholic beverages. (Because I'm just strange that way.)
Four, Rosetta Stone is most likely going to scream at me when I finish this entry and work on that again. R.S., I would like to formally apologize for my behavior as of late. I have neglected our relationship, and you have every right to be angry with me. But please, don't take back the software, lol. (If your name happens to have these initials, I would also like you to know that this is absolutely NOT directed towards you in any way... but I would be interested to know if there happens to be the coincidence, hahaha.)
Five, I had one of the craziest Saturdays one can have without going to Vegas. Read on before you judge. Day started out normal. Went to a Japan Festival in Berlin to see the Taiko drummers with a couple of exchange student friends. (I've been to the Nisei Week Parade in Little Tokyo in LA several times with my Dad and Brother, and I didn't realize how much I'd missed my Lil' Tokyo. I'm from the LA area, we sometimes speak that way, lol.) Then we went to an Irish pub/restaurant afterward to catch up. I got home around six using public transportation (s-bahn and bus), and this is where the crazy begins...
My host sister's birthday was Sunday, so she had a party with two other girls whose birthdays are also around that time. The party was fun, but I really just cannot function past 12:30 in the morning. I left around 1:30 with a few friends in the hope that I could get home and just go to sleep. But fate had other plans.... On a bus on the way home, a fight nearly broke out because this one (probably intoxicated) man got the strange idea into his head that one of the guys from our party was part of a gang because of the color of his scarf. We managed to escort the man off the bus, but not before the bus driver had called the police. The police showed up, and we sat and waited until they were done interviewing the people involved. By the time I got home, it was 4:30am, and I was beyond exhausted. On the up-side, I won a solitaire game on my phone while we waited for the police to finish. Hahaha :)
Six, the birds are coming back to the area as the weather gets a bit warmer. I can hear them in the morning, before the sun's up. It's so nice to hear the sound again. (Sidenote: No, I am not going soft, I am just appreciating things for what they are. I have analyzed Snow White, and while I have not yet isolated the exact reason for it, I have come to the conclusion that something is not right behind those big brown eyes... If I did not mention this beforehand, let me say it now: Please to not read my blog to your children if you think they will be upset by my attacking Disney characters with logic; I'm likely to do this a few more times before the year is out. I simply cannot help myself.)
Seven, authors are cruel. Yes, some are kind enough to weave an intricate plot and to create intriguing characters to carry it out. And then, they have their fun by pulling their readers right and left in a sometimes-exhilarating, sometimes-terrifying ride to get to the end, the finale, the conclusion, the resolution. Now, I'm not saying that every story should have a definitive conclusion and resolution. I have come to find that many short stories are even better for leaving the reader with certain unanswered questions. (For example, the thoughts that stayed with me after finishing Dracula still pop up in my head once every now and then. Oh, and DO NOT, I repeat, DO NOT attempt to read this book at night. This is not some kind of reverse psychology statement; I sincerely care about your mental state. For those of you who ignore my warning, I will not speak to you when you happen to be up freaking out at two in the morning and I happen to be online because of the time difference, so there.)
Back to authors... ah, yes, stories without a conclusion. Allow me to phrase my next few ideas in the form of a statement to authors: As a reader, I dedicate my time and my imagination to books. I read quite avidly, glancing at the clock and then reading just one more page, just one more chapter.. I wait as patiently as I can for the next book in a series to be released. And when finally the last book comes out, I savor it, just like the dessert after some tasty meal. So, my dear authors, I pose to you this question: why have you created world and woven these complex scenarios and problems, so tangled and interlocking it sometimes requires pen and paper to keep it all straight, and then build and build upon it like some great structure, reaching for the sky, all to chop it off at the top? As a reader, I implore you not to create problems in your literature to which you have no possible solution. Because, trust me, if we do not do our characters and our stories justice, someone else will...
Well, seven's supposedly lucky, so I'll end off here. Was lovely just ranting like that. I wonder if that's part of what makes a writer, his ability to rant... oops! different tangent, lol. Better go before I'm tempted to write about any other random topic!! Tha' gerl wot has tha' convers, pa'in' 'er respec' t' won a' them books ;)
9.1.11
Finnland?
Okay, so here's an interesting story for ya: One day not too long ago we were all sitting in Deutsch class, just chilling, because the teacher is nice like that. :) The only real downside that I can come up with for that period is that I sit right in front of the door. And no, this is not figurative. I literally am squashed between my table and the only door leading in and out of the room. Yeah, great seating arrangement, lol.
Anyway, back to the story... So occassionally the teacher has the students play a game where one will try to go around the room and say the name of all the others. I'm new, which would usually make me the most forgettable, save for the fact that I am also a foreign exchange student, and therefore somewhat exotic, lol. (I'm talking about personality, not looks here, people :P) On this particular day, a boy sitting across the room from me attempted this task of naming everyone. Naturally, he had to start with me. At first I didn't get this, but then as the girl sitting next to me began to pat my shoulder and look at me with a sympathetic and somewhat amused expression on her face, I got it: this dude had forgotten my name.
I sat up straiter in my seat and crossed my arms, attempting (and failing) to smile at this guy. I just find it so amusing how the discomfort that sometimes comes with being the new kid (and a foreigner!) had been completely switched around. The tables had turned, so to speak, and I have to say I enjoyed seeing the apologetic look on his face. Finally someone else remembered my name and whispered it to him, and you would think that that would be the end of the matter. But no.
(I am taking liberties as a writer to edit the next thing that I said so that I use correct German grammar. This is for my pride, thank you very much.) "Aus?" I posed the question. He definitely struggled with that a bit; no one on his side of the room had gotten to know me enough to know that. "Aus... Finnland?!" Yeap, that pretty much sent me, and the rest of the class, into a wave of uncontrollable laughter. Random guy in Deutsch class, you just made my week :D
And now for something completely different! I would like to personally file a complaint against Apple's spedometer feature for iPods. I've taken to walking places a lot, so I decided to use my iPod to track how much. It claimed that I walked just over 1,000 steps, and that I only burned about a hundred calories!! Well, it probably didn't take into account the heavy backpack I was lugging. Hmmm, and here we come again to the swallow-and-coconut conundrum...
There is one thing I need to say to all my fellow Americans. My people, our pretzels are no match for those made in Germany, and neither is our chocolate. It's time that we move on and work toward a better future, one in which we all suck it up and beg our friends in Germany to send us these wonderful foods.
I think I'll add one last thing before I sign off for now. My school has three stories, and the building is laid out so that most of the classrooms have an entire wall of just windows. This can be pleasant, what with the natural light, but NOT when someone from across the room decides to open the window to let in the freezing cold air directly behind YOU. For future reference, the best thing to do in this situation is suck it up and bring a jacket, lol. As a side-note, I've seen these notices on the windows, and I'm pretty sure that they're warning you not to fall out of the window... Yeah... We live in interesting times. :)
Thanks to y'all for reading!! TGWTC, aus Finnland ;) jk, I'm American, we all know that.
Anyway, back to the story... So occassionally the teacher has the students play a game where one will try to go around the room and say the name of all the others. I'm new, which would usually make me the most forgettable, save for the fact that I am also a foreign exchange student, and therefore somewhat exotic, lol. (I'm talking about personality, not looks here, people :P) On this particular day, a boy sitting across the room from me attempted this task of naming everyone. Naturally, he had to start with me. At first I didn't get this, but then as the girl sitting next to me began to pat my shoulder and look at me with a sympathetic and somewhat amused expression on her face, I got it: this dude had forgotten my name.
I sat up straiter in my seat and crossed my arms, attempting (and failing) to smile at this guy. I just find it so amusing how the discomfort that sometimes comes with being the new kid (and a foreigner!) had been completely switched around. The tables had turned, so to speak, and I have to say I enjoyed seeing the apologetic look on his face. Finally someone else remembered my name and whispered it to him, and you would think that that would be the end of the matter. But no.
(I am taking liberties as a writer to edit the next thing that I said so that I use correct German grammar. This is for my pride, thank you very much.) "Aus?" I posed the question. He definitely struggled with that a bit; no one on his side of the room had gotten to know me enough to know that. "Aus... Finnland?!" Yeap, that pretty much sent me, and the rest of the class, into a wave of uncontrollable laughter. Random guy in Deutsch class, you just made my week :D
And now for something completely different! I would like to personally file a complaint against Apple's spedometer feature for iPods. I've taken to walking places a lot, so I decided to use my iPod to track how much. It claimed that I walked just over 1,000 steps, and that I only burned about a hundred calories!! Well, it probably didn't take into account the heavy backpack I was lugging. Hmmm, and here we come again to the swallow-and-coconut conundrum...
There is one thing I need to say to all my fellow Americans. My people, our pretzels are no match for those made in Germany, and neither is our chocolate. It's time that we move on and work toward a better future, one in which we all suck it up and beg our friends in Germany to send us these wonderful foods.
I think I'll add one last thing before I sign off for now. My school has three stories, and the building is laid out so that most of the classrooms have an entire wall of just windows. This can be pleasant, what with the natural light, but NOT when someone from across the room decides to open the window to let in the freezing cold air directly behind YOU. For future reference, the best thing to do in this situation is suck it up and bring a jacket, lol. As a side-note, I've seen these notices on the windows, and I'm pretty sure that they're warning you not to fall out of the window... Yeah... We live in interesting times. :)
Thanks to y'all for reading!! TGWTC, aus Finnland ;) jk, I'm American, we all know that.
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