Reality [TV] in Germany

I don't have a TV in my apartment, and I'm not sure that I want one. The devil on one shoulder makes some good points. The days are getting shorter...wouldn't it be nice..."Pillars of the Earth (Die Säulen der Erde) without having to watch it at the gym...

But the angel on the other shoulder reassures me that I don't have the time, I should be social and at the gym and volunteering and making the world a better place, blah blah blah.

So, I will settle for TV at the gym--and boy, can it be entertaining.

Today, I watched a particularly inventive show called "Betrugsfälle" about women not only becoming victims of fraud, but, as one woman lamented, victims of a broken heart. Barf. A self-described "scripted-Doku," these women--usually middle-aged and blonde--are tricked by the same man who claims to be in love with them and then takes all of their money. One scene showed the victim's smarter, fatter brunette friend trying to knock some sense into her. The victim responded, doe-eyed: "that just isn't Frank! He would never do that! I love him!" At the end, the brunette lures Frank into a trap, in which he is ambushed by an army of blonde, middle-aged women who had given him their life savings. Is this supposed to be some sort of "Girl Power!" moment?

Another good one is "Bauer sucht Frau." It's about a rugged(?) farmer who is desperately in need of a wife. Check out these gorgeous men. Ok, so the dairy farmer isn't too bad, but I am really falling for the "schüchterne Schwabe."

Then there's "Deutschland sucht den Superstar." Basically, it's "America's Got Talent" or "American Idol." Simple enough.

"Blondine sucht Prinz" (there's a lot of seeking going on in Germany, apparently) follows another familiar storyline: aged model (stripper?) is looking for a man, and makes them compete against each other by doing ridiculous things. Oh, and her platinum-blonde, supertanned mother (I often confuse the two) helps her make the decision. One man has her face tattooed all over her body. Sounds like a winner!

Finally, there's apparently a show in which priests, in robes, fight each other. REALLY fight each other. I guess I'm not at the gym when this artistic feat is on. Damn.

Yoodle-ah-ee-hoo

I realize that I've been derelict in my blog updates, but I've somehow been able to replicate the kind of business (busy-ness?) that made my life in college stressful, exciting and meaningful at the same time. In German, there's a difference between wohnen (to live) and leben (to live). Wohnen simply explains where one resides; leben, on the other hand, better describes the experience of life. The first few months here were about evolving, moving away from wohnen and becoming comfortable with leben. I've tried to really make a life for myself here, so that one day I can truly say, "I lived in Freiburg. Ich habe in Freiburg gelebt."

The catch is, doing that with little to no money. Luckily, I don't need a lot. Coffee, friends, asian food. The occasional trip. Some music thrown in. Meeting new people, warm socks (warm everything, really), cooking dinner for friends...is this too much to ask?

It definitely helps when your family visits. I haven't shared my full trip with you yet, and my family deserves at least another huge blog entry.

First, I should backtrack and say something about my family: they are the best kind of people. Warm, open-minded and big-hearted, they have supported me throughout my 22 years and have shown me the kind of person I want to become. I was lucky to rarely have babysitters, enjoying nearly every afternoon and weekend day with my parents and my little brother. As I have slowly begun establishing my place in the world, I have found it impossible not to ask their advice, even regarding the silliest things. Should I change my major? Should I go to graduate school? Should I get a haircut? Do you think making pumpkin pie without pumpkin puree will be ok?

I've always wanted to impress them, so they can be proud of the little person they've shaped and be happy that they devoted so much time to us, rather than traveling the world or becoming a senator or a famous artist. They could have done those things, but they devoted their life to their family, and I could not be more grateful to have them as my best friends. When I first saw them in Freiburg, I was so comforted. Home had made it's way to Germany.

With that mushy introduction, I'll make a less-than-graceful transition to the beginning of our trip. We spent time in Freiburg, made day trips and drove in the Alps before making our way to Venice.

For once, Grandma bypasses the shoe store. Guess there were no size 5s.

Freiburger Münster

Where's Heidi? Sister Maria?

German food = comfort food.

Dinner at Feierling in Freiburg, where they brew their own beer.

Neuschwanstein Castle. Home of mad King Ludwig and dedicated to the operas of Richard Wagner--only 1/8 was finished before Ludwig mysteriously died in a nearby lake. A conflicting mischmasch of themes. Byzantine church? Medieval castle? Cave?

We're standing in front of Ludwig's boyhood castle, Hohenschwangau.

Our rental car. You can't see the mysterious dent on the front, which appeared sometime between it's departure from Milan to Freiburg. This dent caused a lot of worry during the trip, although my parents would deem it "scheming."

I found that the further south you go, the friendlier people become. We tramped through the Alps without any hotel reservations, so we had to rely on locals' recommendations. In one small town (whose name I have forgotten), one man walked us all around town trying to find us a room. And, while confusing, directions were always well-intended.

It makes me wonder sometimes--how can such a lovable people show such hatred toward "the Other?" See this Swiss political campaign for the deportation of non-Swiss (the Swiss have VERY stringent citizenship rules) deemed "criminal." Still, despite the paranoia and political persuasions of some people in the region, being surrounded by family and natural beauty showed me how I want my life to be: simple, filled with love and beautiful sunsets.

Venice

Venice is, at once, tragic and beautiful. It exists as a memory of its former glory. Like old western ghost towns, Venice was once a pleasure town--it witnessed the masquerades of Casanova fame, Marco Polo and the age of discovery and countless criminals who infamously crossed the Bridge of Sighs to their doom.

Today, the population of Venice is less than Richmond. Did I mention that it's sinking?

Part of what makes Venice so captivating is that it's endangered. Yet, signs of life were everywhere last week. When it finally stopped raining and clothes were hung out to dry in the sunshine, we smiled in relief; not for photographic opportunities, but for the city itself.

On Halloween, when miniature Venetians traveled from business to business near the Ca 'd' Oro; when, every morning, an old woman in our dark alley cheerfully lamented the lack of sun (and just as cheerfully rejected Dad's request to photograph her), we knew: Venice still lives!

Some highlights of the visit:

1. 40 euro for 4 cappuccinos in St. Mark's square (not to mention a classy band!)

2. Had a little fun with the [Egyptian] locals at a touristy restaurant: Dad ordered a side of roasted potatoes and ate them with his meal. Long after we had finished and were finishing the wine, a waiter approached us with a new plate of potatoes that he did not order. Dad, clearly confused, confused the waiter. Ten minutes later, the waiter came to the table with Dad's full meal--poking fun at his earlier mistake. A nice departure from the grumpy Italians!

3. Venice at sunset. It's as romantic as you imagine--even without the gondola. I held hands with Grandma.

Nice hats, y'all.

On the island of Murano.

Fish market

St. Mark's square at dusk

It's hard to get a good picture of the massive and ancient St. Mark's, so I picked a corner.

Nom noms

Italy, unite! You too, Pete!

Venetian glass

The trip wouldn't be complete without a picture with a gondolier.

German Leitkultur

Interesting read--a fascinating time to be in Europe. While he makes a lot of good (and I believe, accurate) points, I don't really agree with his interpretation of the Stuttgart 21 protests. Rather than seeing them as anti-progress, I see them as a sort of citizen's arrest and holding government accountable.

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/10/29/opinion/29Habermas.html?_r=1&hp

Vegetarianism in Bratland

Perhaps my decision to become a vegetarian before coming to Germany was not well-timed, as Germans and Americans alike have told me. After all, this is the country of Bratwurst, Knockwurst, Leberwurst, Blutwurst, Rinderfleisch, Schnitzel, Sauerbraten and Mettbrötchen.

Some of these delicacies--namely, Blutwurst and Mettbrötchen--would be taboo in the States. Blutwurst is "blood sausage." It has such a high concentration of blood, it's more like a spread than a meat. Drooling yet?

You will find many people enjoying a filling Mettbrötchen on the square or in the market as a snack or quick lunch. Imagine ground beef. Raw. On a roll. With onions! yummy. Wanting to have the full German experience while in Frankfurt last year, I hesitantly ate one of these cold, texture-rich sandwiches. When I asked if there was harmful bacteria in it, I was told, "not enough to make you sick." Hmm.

Since then, I've realized that there are countless reasons why I am better fit to be a vegetarian than a meat-eater. There are ethical reasons, environmental reasons and health reasons for it; so many reasons, in fact, that I can't go into them now. I have always wanted to make the plunge. I've been teetering for too long. I have been a vegetarian since early July, and I'm not looking back.

This decision has not affected life here in Germany. Yes, sometimes the smell of Bratwurst in the market square does tempt me--but not enough to abandon my principles. It's easy to forget that factory farming exists in Europe, when you see these old-world, mom n' pop butcher stores. And while there is definitely more such stores here than in the States, you must make a conscious effort to choose this meat over the discount meat in Aldi. A lot of people aren't willing to make that sacrifice. Also, McDonald's is actually kind of chic here. Try putting "McDonald's" and "ethical" in the same sentence. It's not even as good as the German imbisses and bakeries. Yet, every time I walk by the McDonald's at the Martinstor, it's packed. I don't get it.

It can be hard to eat at traditional German restaurants, but it's not impossible. I would say that it's just as hard to eat at a German restaurant as it is at a southern, homestyle restaurant. I'm reminded of the night before I left for Germany when I ate at Cracker Barrel with my parents. I ordered the vegetable soup with an egg and a piece of cornbread. "We use beef broth in the vegetable soup," our server said, " and animal fat for the biscuits." Not wanting to be a cranky customer, I ate them anyway. I shouldn't have told him I was a vegetarian. On the other hand, they should offer more vegetarian options--what, with all of the Canadian and yankee travelers...

So, I've decided to make a list of German dishes fit for vegetarians (sorry, vegans):

1. Käsespätzle. Basically, German macaroni and cheese--but with eggy noodles and carmelized onions on top.

2. Lentil soup. I've made this several times myself, and it usually feeds me for days. I like to put lots of vegetables in it and eat it with a crusty piece of bread. Potato soup and pumpkin soup are also quite popular.

3. Flammkuchen. Flammkuchen is the German answer to pizza. It has a thin crust a white sauce instead of a tomato sauce. Lots of vegetarian options here, and pretty much every restaurant offers it.

4. Aufläufe. Think casseroles, but creamier. Usually baked with rice or pasta (my favorite includes gnocchi), cheese, cream sauce and vegetables of your choosing. Of course, you can also add meat, if you are a heartless animal-hater (joking. sorta.).

In Freiburg, there are plenty of Asian and Italian restaurants to keep vegetarians satisfied. Even Döner stands offer meatless kebabs for vegetarians (or for people who don't like to see their dinner scraped off a spinning tower of lamb meat).

Of course, meatless German staples include potato salad, cabbage and sauerkraut. The outdoor markets also offer a lot of local, fresh produce and fruit. The bread and pastries are also to die for.

Guten Appetit!

Day in the Seepark

The weather in Freiburg is freaky--almost like the weather in Virginia. From what I've heard, most of Germany right now has been experiencing dreary fall conditions for a while now. And yes, deep down I know that Freiburg weather will not always be so lovely. November is supposedly downright depressing--far from the sunny, golden days of jumping in piles of leaves and taking long strolls in sweatshirts. But yesterday in Freiburg, it was over 70 degrees. Not knowing how long I'd be so meteorologically blessed, I couldn't let such a day pass me by--even after having gone to the late show of Eat Pray Love and spending hours afterwards reading blogs and talking to Evan. I only wish we'd seen Eat Pray Love during the day, so that I could have enjoyed the satisfaction of walking out of a theater during a cheesy and underwhelming film, only to find a beautiful day worthy of the park.

The Gymnasium where I work is on the edge of such a park, called the Seepark. For some reason, I hadn't explored it until two young teachers showed it to me last week. There's a big lake with boats and lots of turtles, as well as chestnut trees and a Japanese Garden. I brought my journal and my camera along, just in case the creative spirit moved me. It was a good move.

Although it was warm enough to wear flip flops, I recognized signs of autumn for the first time. The leaves have started to turn and fall, making me long for the leaf-covered brick pathways at William and Mary. Oh, how I'll miss cider, Halloween and Williamsburg in the fall...

There was also a delightful old man, who confused me for a married woman. After learning otherwise, he leaned in for a kiss...

Instead, we compromised with a picture.

Japanese Garden

See y'all soon.

Unterwegs, with Guns

I have only just realized how little I have actually said about my school and my position here. My previous posts give the impression that I am simply bumming around Europe like a pretentious college graduate who pretends to know something about good cheese and wine. And photography. And that insipid platitude about finding yourself. Dear friends, the moment I utter those words, please boycott this blog. The truth is, I have a pretty good idea of who I am. I'm learning more every day and I continue to surprise myself (and bore myself, for that matter), but for the most part, I know what I want in my life.

I am working at a Gymnasium as an English teaching assistant, also known as Little American Underfoot. That's how I felt at first, anyway. My first week was about awkwardly watching classes from my little corner, smiling at children with curious, staring heads cocked to the side like my dog Luke when he watches TV. I struggled for a spot at a table in the teacher's lounge and read my book as "colleagues" raced passed me with arms full of books and notebooks. To make matters worse, the school is under renovation, so the classes didn't have set rooms and there was no plan for me. Basically, I sat there, obediently, waiting for my master to take me for a walk.

With the second week came questions and answers, usually preluded by "Sprechen Sie deutsch?" ("do you speak German?"), to which I would reply: "Nein, ich spreche kein Wort deutsch" ("No, I don't speak a word of German"). I asked the kids to give me their impressions of America. Do kids wear uniforms? Do you like McDonald's or Burger King? and from the older kids, What do I think about Obama? What do Americans think of Germans? Needless to say, some questions were harder than others--but I've led a few really excellent discussions and the kids really seem to be engaged. For the most part, it's exactly what I'd hoped for.

Of course, there's been the occasional misunderstanding. It's only natural when you're a newbie, or so most Hollywood movies tell me. It's endearing, even. But my problem is that I'm so eager to please. A miscommunication is automatically my fault, my failure to understand. Forgive me, I am just the lowly TA, I know not what I do. Then, after a long walk home, I'll cut myself a break and pledge to not react as a victim. I'm capable and competent, and I'll teach these kids something yet.

I love helping students. I love when they call my name to ask for the right word or inquire about the United States. I love to watch the wheels turning in their heads as they put the pieces together. I love their enthusiasm. I also enjoy crushing stereotypes about my country.

-"How many guns do you think my family has?"

-"How many people are in your family?"

-"Four."

-"Then your family must have four guns."

-"Would you believe that my family actually owns zero guns. zip. zilch. keine."

-"...interesting."

Yes, this is just one example. Gun rights in the US is a popular topic and makes for a good discussion. So good, in fact, that I was requested for a second appearance on Wednesday. The textbook introduces the subject with three pictures of "typical" Americans with their guns. The first picture shows a family in their front living room, a smiling mother and father each with their own gun, a daughter who is oblivious on the internet, and a fluffy dog. The second picture is a scary guy with a Tshirt that reads something like "faith in government denies both history and reason." No smile on his face. The last picture is a family of four on what appears to be your average Saturday afternoon. They are barefoot in the kitchen, each with his own gun, and again--a cute dog with his tongue hanging out. Probably salivating over the sheer power in the room.

As most of you know, I am one of the last people to argue on the side of "gun rights." Guns scare me and I have never held one. I don't understand why people think a law allowing people to bring their guns into bars actually makes the place safer. Not everyone should be Clint Eastwood. But this is not the Andell's America that I grew up in. It's hard to stand there and hear these stereotypes about my homeland, but I get satisfaction by been an exception to their so-called rule. Despite the rise of the Tea Party and manipulative, money-driven cable news/entertainment, I still love my country and I am determined to help make it better.

Sorry about the tangent, especially to those who have already heard my little rant (Thanks Mom, Dad, Evan). Bottom line is: I really love my job here, and I'm excited to see what the year brings.

Today, We Went to France.

Freiburg is very, very close to France. It only took us about an hour or so to get there--as if I were driving to Richmond. So, it's not too strange that we woke up on Saturday and said, "so...feel like going to France today?" Three hours later, we went to Colmar.

I guess the biggest motivation was the cheese. I've eaten some pretty good cheese since I've gotten here, but you don't just sit at home and eat Roquefort. You just can't beat sitting in a Brasserie, eating a cheese plate with baguettes and Bordeaux. My favorite was probably the Munster--the Alsace specialty.

Like Germany, there are bakeries everywhere. I'm still baffled as to how Europeans are thinner than we are. I guess it's because you have to walk around the city all day to find a place that will accept your Pfands (money you get back for recycled bottles). Or, as happened in Colmar, you search up and down for a place that serves bread and cheese. After an hour, we started to get cranky and were silent, only grunting to show approval or disapproval of a potential eatery.

One shoe store and creepy French guy later, we found a place and were able to cheese out to our hearts' content for the petit price of 7 euro.

Getting hungry.

Happily imagining future cheese consumption.

Alsacian France is like Germany, if you replace colors with off-white

and give the umlaut some friends.

So this is where all the heads went...

Pigs are our friends. Until you want some pieds de porc panes.

Colmar is home to Bertholdi, the man behind such inspirational statues as the Statue of Liberty. This statue inspires me to take off my pants.

Schloss Sigmaringen

Yesterday, the southwestern German Fulbright alumni chapter held a special event--a trip to Schloss Sigmaringen. The castle/palace was the home (and is still owned by) the Hohenzollern family. The family lived there until after World War II. There was a death in the family and now they're deciding who will be the lucky fellow ("sorry, ladies," as our sexist tour guide said) to fill the powerless-yet-elegant shoes. Unfortunately, we weren't allowed to take pictures inside due to "copyright issues." I guess it relieved the pressure to produce good photography.

A few words on the aforementioned sexist tour guide. First of all, he was an impostor--he wasn't a real German. He was British and had been living in Germany for 30 years. He had been speaking German so long that he couldn't speak English properly. He also had a think British accent when he spoke German. If this is what happens when you become fluent--you become mediocre at 2 languages--then I'm sticking with English, y'all.

To begin with, he assumed we were dumb Americans. The tour was moving a bit slowly ("could you repeat that again? What did the ladies do in the bathroom? What was the sink for?"), yet he asked the Fulbright guy in German whether he was going too quickly for our comprehension. The Fulbrighter answered, "some of these people are getting their PhDs in History." "I was just wondering. Our last American group was from the Bush Administration." Hmpf.

Sexist/Arrogant things he said:

1. "This was the system for calling the servants at the turn of the century. The princess pressed this button, and the servants knew exactly where to go in the castle. I suggested installing one for my wife. She didn't take kindly to it."

2. "That was back in the day, when servants were trained."

3. "His wife had a name, and so did his sword."

4. "This is the largest private collection of weapons in Europe. Of course, ladies usually aren't interested."

Just to spite him, I bought a cannon keychain.

Downtown Sigmaringen

Rule: when you see fresh linen hanging out of windows, always take a picture.

Here are some views of Freiburg from the Schlossberg.