The feeling of overwhelming tiredness. It is a feeling of pressure. Pressure on my chest, eyelids. Like I am swimming deep under water. My body is about to get the bends. It bends in its seat. When I close my eyes, REM tries to pull my brain deep underneath the surface. I fight free, I open my encrusted eyelids. There are people around me. I am sitting in a train. Seats lined up against the walls. Across from me there is a bicycle--the back-light still glowing from the pedal generator. It must not have been there very long. A teenage boy wearing jeans, legs spread, slouched, with earphones, staring passively in my direction. A middle-aged woman holding a mirror, dabbing her eyes with smooth, waxy black eye-liner.
A subdued automated voice calls, "Nächster Halt. Großenhain Cottbuser Bahnhof. Ausstieg in Fahrtrichtung Rechts." I rise. I walk towards the door. I stand towards the direction indicated. The train screeches to a halt. A button on the door blinks green. I press it, the doors slide open with a hiss. The sky is greyish blue, the sun has not fully risen. It is 6:55 am. I woke up this morning at 4:53 in Dresden, and left the house at 5:40 to walk 10 minutes to the Neustadt train station. My train left at 6:07. It was still dark. Night. Pitch black.
On my way out of the train I notice hoards of teenagers filing into the mist. They are heading to the Gymnasium for Social Work, where most of them are working on completing a specialized Abitur in Social Work--Abitur is the exam that German students have to take if they want to go to college. I head beyond this Gymnasium to my own, Werner-von-Siemens. As I determinedly, yet absent-mindedly walk over the cobble-stoned side-walk, the church bells are ringing like they ring for Cinderella on her wedding day. Busses motor past down the one-way street, and eject hoards of school children out onto the sidewalks. Some go to the elementary school, some to the high schools. They all push past each other, mingle, the younger ones waddling with their over-sized, square backpacks full of book--like mini-sherpas on a flat Mount Everest.
The schools stands majestic. Three stories tall. An ancient-looking building with doors big enough for the giant in Jack and the Beanstock. I heave one door open. Inside students scramble up and down stairs, caught in their own worlds of popularity, puberty, presentation. I recognize a few and smile, "hello!" From speakers in the hallway, modern rock and pop songs bounce off the walls. This morning "one, twenty-one guns" is playing as I head to the teachers' room on the second floor. It opens with a key--a 10 thousand Euro key that I keep around my neck on a chain, not daring to take it off unless I am at home in Dresden.Somehow Germany has become my everyday life.
Foreignness and otherness has transformed into comfort and logic. At the Fulbright Welcome meeting last weekend in Frankfurt, there was a talk on "Reverse Culture Shock"--I took part. The phenomenon of culture shock is different for everyone. For me, it is a very gradual process of accustoming myself to a new system of acting and interacting. In Germany, it is not necessarily a system that I like more or less, it is just different. It is certainly different, but in a thousand tiny ways that sometimes catch you off your guard. No, there is no canned pumpkin or isopropol alcohol in the supermarket. Yes, there is a prominent group called the FKK (Freier Körper Kultur -- free body culture) that lobby to be able to walk around naked in (relatively) public places. No, the customer is not always first--companies do not even pretend to think that. Yes, people will directly tell you if you are doing something stupid.
How will "reverse culture shock" work in my personal case? By the end of the year, will I get a form of Stockholm syndrome, not wanting to re-enter the USA, defending my kidnapper, wanting to always stay by its side? Ok, Germany is not a kidnapper. I got a fellowship, for goodness sake. At the moment, I am feeling the first spurs of "Heimweh" (home-sickness), but they are accompanied by the desire for the opposite. Maybe I do want to stay here? Maybe I should study my masters for free at a German University? I have a while to decide whether I want to teach one more year--until February. I just handed in an internship application to Fulbright yesterday--it is for a three month internship starting in August. More to come! Thanks for reading...
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
October 25th--Fall break report
Harvesting vegetables encapsulates some of the same wonder associated with birth. It is like magic (Zauberei)--a seed in the ground, a perfect mixture of chemicals, nutrients and genetic information which in the end lead to a magical, complicated life-form.
This morning I was on my haunches in a muddied field. A patched gray sky, strings of sun breaking through here and there, lighting up a single apple on a single tree, or making the metal on a passing train glisten for a couple seconds. It had rained before I arrived, and it was threatening to again. Diligently, I worked to wrestle the orange root vegetables free of their placenta of earth. First with a pitch-fork, loosening the gripping umbilical cords. Fork sliding in the ground, foot pressuring down, hands levering the handle, the heads emerged slowly. Crouched down, knees pressing against the earth, I could feel the damp coolness through my jeans.
The carrots were covered with layers of mud. I slid the soft, clay off of the fest, ringed flesh—searching for imperfections—a knick, a crack, a bite. Like a battled-field, the fields lay full with rejected fruits of the earth. The best, of all shapes and sizes, were broken from their roots and green leaves, placed in a large, green, plastic carton. Ultimately too heavy for my back and arms, I dragged the carton through the battlefield with a thousand hops and pulls, then loaded it onto the trailer of a bike, and headed back to the barn where Ina and I laid them out on a long metal table and sprayed them, brightening the color from rich brown clay, to bright orange.
Herleshausen is the closest thing I have to home in Germany. Instead of feeling as a guest, I feel completely integrated into the family structure, welcome and appreciated. I know where I belong and where I am needed--instead of feeling like a drain or a sponge, I feel like a gear in a machine. I do as much work as a farm worker and family member when visiting, and I am expected to do so much. I like this expectation.
Last summer I could not stand Ina and Manfred`s children, but they are now growing on me. They get older and become a little more respectful and understanding, and I grow older and become more tolerant and nostalgic. Further and further distance from childhood allows appreciation and understanding of the processes that children have to go through. Even last summer I always had the urge to “tell on” the children. “Malte did this, Melena did that!” my annoyance and anger was supposed to be pushed onto those with the responsibility.
Today I noticed that I was able to regulate behavior myself. For the most part, the kids do not really annoy me anymore. As Malte insisted on stealing a freshly-baked cookie out of the oven, not listening to my pleas for him to wait, I realized that all he wanted was attention. He took the cookie and said “ich bin ein böser Junge, oder?” (I am just a misbehaving boy, right?”) and then proceeded attempting to taunt me with his misbehavior: “Lee Ellen loooooook loook looooooook I am going to eat the cookie looooook.” Instead of looking at Malte, I just let him take the cookie, and then praised his brother, Linus, for helping me put the rest of the cookies on the cooling rack without taking one to eat for himself. Malte stopped his misbehavior.
The vacation is over, school starts again tomorrow. This vacation was amazing. It left me not only relaxed, but in glee and with unbelievable, lingering feelings of satisfaction with my life and the people in my life. I was met with so much hospitality, good conversation, wonderful views, increased understanding of people and Germany in general. More than one German has let me know with astonishment that I have seen more of Germany than they have, and most-likely most Germans. The more I travel, the more I see, the more I am interested in this country. Every mountain, every village, every corner whispers another story, another piece of a puzzle that I am attempting to arrange on big wooden tablet in my brain.
In Albaching, near Munich, my friend Barbara (a 48 year-old, psychology-major, and former Munich taxi-driver) said something like, “Lee Ellen, you live in East Germany. You are going to live there for an entire year. I have never done that and I will never do that. I am interested in the other side of the country, and in the people there, but I have already established a life here. You have experienced something of my own country which I will never experience, and which most west Germans will never experience.”
Onto other matters, I continue to wrap my emotions up the potential for “real” romance and love, while at the same time being overly rational and logical and not believing that it exists. This is a very strange push and pull. A friend recently commented on this behavior or state of thought—he thinks it is related to the fact that I am simply an adventurous person? I can philosophize further that I am seeking adventure and magic and attempting to create stories and live out things that I imagine or that I have been carrying with me from childhood (e.g. going to Europe). My post high-school life has already lead me down this path. So many opportunities have opened up, and continue to present themselves. Is it that I am overly lucky, or simply that I am willing to take risks and work hard for the non-standard things that I find important, and perhaps others are too afraid to take? At the moment, I could not imagine doing anything different. In terms of potential love in the future, my doubts stem from the very drive that keeps me on my life path—I am (as of yet) always thinking about how I can make my life better and longer and (almost) always willing to take risks and change and move if it means having a better life. Will this carry over into a relationship? Will I ever be satisfied with a single partner when I could dream about finding a better one? Do these perfect love stories only work for people who have concrete, non-flexible identities? Or people who change slowly, and change always with their partner? At the moment, the pull is between living in the present, and living for the future. It is always a delicate balance.
On November 1st, I will be moving into an apartment in Dresden-Neustadt. I will have two roommates, a German guy (25) and a non-German (I forget what nationality) girl (22?). The apartment is cozy, the roommates are nice, the location is great. The only issue are the hearing problems of my roommate (the guy)--certain small noises really hurt his ears. I am sure, however, that I will get used to this, and work around it over the next eight months. The other girl will be moving in at the same time as me. I find this good—I do not have to try to fit into an already existing system. Instead, we can work together to figure something out.
This morning I was on my haunches in a muddied field. A patched gray sky, strings of sun breaking through here and there, lighting up a single apple on a single tree, or making the metal on a passing train glisten for a couple seconds. It had rained before I arrived, and it was threatening to again. Diligently, I worked to wrestle the orange root vegetables free of their placenta of earth. First with a pitch-fork, loosening the gripping umbilical cords. Fork sliding in the ground, foot pressuring down, hands levering the handle, the heads emerged slowly. Crouched down, knees pressing against the earth, I could feel the damp coolness through my jeans.
The carrots were covered with layers of mud. I slid the soft, clay off of the fest, ringed flesh—searching for imperfections—a knick, a crack, a bite. Like a battled-field, the fields lay full with rejected fruits of the earth. The best, of all shapes and sizes, were broken from their roots and green leaves, placed in a large, green, plastic carton. Ultimately too heavy for my back and arms, I dragged the carton through the battlefield with a thousand hops and pulls, then loaded it onto the trailer of a bike, and headed back to the barn where Ina and I laid them out on a long metal table and sprayed them, brightening the color from rich brown clay, to bright orange.
Herleshausen is the closest thing I have to home in Germany. Instead of feeling as a guest, I feel completely integrated into the family structure, welcome and appreciated. I know where I belong and where I am needed--instead of feeling like a drain or a sponge, I feel like a gear in a machine. I do as much work as a farm worker and family member when visiting, and I am expected to do so much. I like this expectation.
Last summer I could not stand Ina and Manfred`s children, but they are now growing on me. They get older and become a little more respectful and understanding, and I grow older and become more tolerant and nostalgic. Further and further distance from childhood allows appreciation and understanding of the processes that children have to go through. Even last summer I always had the urge to “tell on” the children. “Malte did this, Melena did that!” my annoyance and anger was supposed to be pushed onto those with the responsibility.
Today I noticed that I was able to regulate behavior myself. For the most part, the kids do not really annoy me anymore. As Malte insisted on stealing a freshly-baked cookie out of the oven, not listening to my pleas for him to wait, I realized that all he wanted was attention. He took the cookie and said “ich bin ein böser Junge, oder?” (I am just a misbehaving boy, right?”) and then proceeded attempting to taunt me with his misbehavior: “Lee Ellen loooooook loook looooooook I am going to eat the cookie looooook.” Instead of looking at Malte, I just let him take the cookie, and then praised his brother, Linus, for helping me put the rest of the cookies on the cooling rack without taking one to eat for himself. Malte stopped his misbehavior.
The vacation is over, school starts again tomorrow. This vacation was amazing. It left me not only relaxed, but in glee and with unbelievable, lingering feelings of satisfaction with my life and the people in my life. I was met with so much hospitality, good conversation, wonderful views, increased understanding of people and Germany in general. More than one German has let me know with astonishment that I have seen more of Germany than they have, and most-likely most Germans. The more I travel, the more I see, the more I am interested in this country. Every mountain, every village, every corner whispers another story, another piece of a puzzle that I am attempting to arrange on big wooden tablet in my brain.
In Albaching, near Munich, my friend Barbara (a 48 year-old, psychology-major, and former Munich taxi-driver) said something like, “Lee Ellen, you live in East Germany. You are going to live there for an entire year. I have never done that and I will never do that. I am interested in the other side of the country, and in the people there, but I have already established a life here. You have experienced something of my own country which I will never experience, and which most west Germans will never experience.”
Onto other matters, I continue to wrap my emotions up the potential for “real” romance and love, while at the same time being overly rational and logical and not believing that it exists. This is a very strange push and pull. A friend recently commented on this behavior or state of thought—he thinks it is related to the fact that I am simply an adventurous person? I can philosophize further that I am seeking adventure and magic and attempting to create stories and live out things that I imagine or that I have been carrying with me from childhood (e.g. going to Europe). My post high-school life has already lead me down this path. So many opportunities have opened up, and continue to present themselves. Is it that I am overly lucky, or simply that I am willing to take risks and work hard for the non-standard things that I find important, and perhaps others are too afraid to take? At the moment, I could not imagine doing anything different. In terms of potential love in the future, my doubts stem from the very drive that keeps me on my life path—I am (as of yet) always thinking about how I can make my life better and longer and (almost) always willing to take risks and change and move if it means having a better life. Will this carry over into a relationship? Will I ever be satisfied with a single partner when I could dream about finding a better one? Do these perfect love stories only work for people who have concrete, non-flexible identities? Or people who change slowly, and change always with their partner? At the moment, the pull is between living in the present, and living for the future. It is always a delicate balance.
On November 1st, I will be moving into an apartment in Dresden-Neustadt. I will have two roommates, a German guy (25) and a non-German (I forget what nationality) girl (22?). The apartment is cozy, the roommates are nice, the location is great. The only issue are the hearing problems of my roommate (the guy)--certain small noises really hurt his ears. I am sure, however, that I will get used to this, and work around it over the next eight months. The other girl will be moving in at the same time as me. I find this good—I do not have to try to fit into an already existing system. Instead, we can work together to figure something out.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Apartment seeker
October 8th, 2009
“You were the last of the people who we are allowing to look at the apartment. First we have to come to a decision, and then we will tell you tomorrow what our decision is.”
In the world of apartment-seeking in Dresden, the one who is in possession of an apartment is king. There is no shortage of young people in Dresden who are looking for an apartment, just as there is no shortage of qualified workers looking for jobs. There have been two apartments that have set themselves apart for me from the others. However, both of these, unfortunately, have not been able to give me the security of a “yes” or a “no”--they both need more time to make a decision, and, more importantly, need the agreement of the roommate(s) who were not present at the first meeting. This requires (in both cases) interrupting my fall vacation around Germany to re-visit Dresden and both apartments. And when they are not available on the same day? I am not sure.
The last group that I met, however, is giving me this security—they will let me know tomorrow... tomorrow? I do not even get to really think about it myself. With only one night to decide whether I thought our lifestyles were too different to spend 8 months as roommates? They definitely have a different lifestyle than my own, and concentrate themselves on different priorities—this could lead to disagreements. I could not see myself becoming best friends with these kids, although I could see myself entering into a comfortable living situation with them, really depending on many factors. One of the roommates studies business engineering or something like that. He is a former Fulbright teaching assistant (small world), who was placed at Ohio State for a year. The other is studying something like mechanical engineering (I am not positive). Both seem to find drinking important, which could be an area of contention—will I end up needing to drink to socialize with my roommates, if we indeed end up roommates? I feel like I might end up falsifying, or forcing an identity that is not my own to fit in to this living arrangement. Would I hold out for long? Could it be an interesting experiment?
“You were the last of the people who we are allowing to look at the apartment. First we have to come to a decision, and then we will tell you tomorrow what our decision is.”
In the world of apartment-seeking in Dresden, the one who is in possession of an apartment is king. There is no shortage of young people in Dresden who are looking for an apartment, just as there is no shortage of qualified workers looking for jobs. There have been two apartments that have set themselves apart for me from the others. However, both of these, unfortunately, have not been able to give me the security of a “yes” or a “no”--they both need more time to make a decision, and, more importantly, need the agreement of the roommate(s) who were not present at the first meeting. This requires (in both cases) interrupting my fall vacation around Germany to re-visit Dresden and both apartments. And when they are not available on the same day? I am not sure.
The last group that I met, however, is giving me this security—they will let me know tomorrow... tomorrow? I do not even get to really think about it myself. With only one night to decide whether I thought our lifestyles were too different to spend 8 months as roommates? They definitely have a different lifestyle than my own, and concentrate themselves on different priorities—this could lead to disagreements. I could not see myself becoming best friends with these kids, although I could see myself entering into a comfortable living situation with them, really depending on many factors. One of the roommates studies business engineering or something like that. He is a former Fulbright teaching assistant (small world), who was placed at Ohio State for a year. The other is studying something like mechanical engineering (I am not positive). Both seem to find drinking important, which could be an area of contention—will I end up needing to drink to socialize with my roommates, if we indeed end up roommates? I feel like I might end up falsifying, or forcing an identity that is not my own to fit in to this living arrangement. Would I hold out for long? Could it be an interesting experiment?
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Hissing tracks
08. Okt. 2009
The flowers between the train tracks swished and shuffled, square-dancing swirls, like bright yellow light bulbs against a darkening sky. I like the way the rails hiss, so that I know when the trains are coming before the bells from the closing street-blockers start ringing in the distance. The regional train to Dresden comes into Priestewitz like a bullet that already hit its living target, continued on without exploding: colored red, slightly worn, screeching to a halt.
Today I took a train to Meißen to go to the Ausländerbehörde: I need to register myself as an "alien" living in Germany, so that I am allowed to stay in Germany for the remainder of my grant period. The Ausländerbehörde was closed when I arrived at 12:30. The workers were on their two-hour lunch break. Coming from the United States, one may find two hours excessive, but it seems to be standard practice in Germany, which is pretty amazing. Finally, after 1.5 hours of walking around Meißen, and finishing the book Nirgendwo in Afrika (Nowhere in Africa) the door opened, allowing the alien to enter (or exit?) the space-capsul. I brought so many forms with me, my pass, some extra pass photos (which I got done for free this morning because the owner of the photo-shop in Großenhain is the grandfather of one of my students). Unfortunately, however, I forgot one, and now I have to go back to Meißen again. This will happen after fall break, which is a comfortable two weeks in length.
This is such a snippet, but I forgot to bring my "notes for blog" with me to Dresden. I will just write a more detailed blog when I get home. At the moment, I am sitting in a cafe in Dresden waiting to go check out a couple apartments. It smells like coffee and bagels. There are clinks of spoons against coffee cups.
The flowers between the train tracks swished and shuffled, square-dancing swirls, like bright yellow light bulbs against a darkening sky. I like the way the rails hiss, so that I know when the trains are coming before the bells from the closing street-blockers start ringing in the distance. The regional train to Dresden comes into Priestewitz like a bullet that already hit its living target, continued on without exploding: colored red, slightly worn, screeching to a halt.
Today I took a train to Meißen to go to the Ausländerbehörde: I need to register myself as an "alien" living in Germany, so that I am allowed to stay in Germany for the remainder of my grant period. The Ausländerbehörde was closed when I arrived at 12:30. The workers were on their two-hour lunch break. Coming from the United States, one may find two hours excessive, but it seems to be standard practice in Germany, which is pretty amazing. Finally, after 1.5 hours of walking around Meißen, and finishing the book Nirgendwo in Afrika (Nowhere in Africa) the door opened, allowing the alien to enter (or exit?) the space-capsul. I brought so many forms with me, my pass, some extra pass photos (which I got done for free this morning because the owner of the photo-shop in Großenhain is the grandfather of one of my students). Unfortunately, however, I forgot one, and now I have to go back to Meißen again. This will happen after fall break, which is a comfortable two weeks in length.
This is such a snippet, but I forgot to bring my "notes for blog" with me to Dresden. I will just write a more detailed blog when I get home. At the moment, I am sitting in a cafe in Dresden waiting to go check out a couple apartments. It smells like coffee and bagels. There are clinks of spoons against coffee cups.
Saturday, October 3, 2009
I wash my laundry in the shower - my socks are never white
2. Oktober, 2009
I wash my laundry in the shower. The shower does not contain a bathtub, but rather a shallow water-guard, as many showers seem to have. The first time I realized that there were no laundromats in Großenhain, I was unprepared. The bag of used-clothes grew in size until I realized that I did not have much left to wear. Looking around town was followed by asking around town for a place to wash clothes—there was nothing. My choices were either to pay a dry-cleaner an exorbitant amount to wash, dry and fold my clothes, or to go to the DM drugstore and buy a bottle of laundry detergent for 2 Euros, and spend my time instead of my money.
I opted for the second possibility. Washing so many clothes at once is, as you may imagine, quite the undertaking. Washing machines are really quite wonderful inventions. Unlike dish washing machines, which can save some minutes, but are frequently more hassle than they are worth (in my humble opinion), washing machines can save hours. One hour is not enough time to clean a load of laundry, even when working diligently and quickly. I do not have a shout-out pen, or oxy-clean. This means that my laundry smells nice after I finish, but still looks more or less the same. My should-be white socks stay black, or maybe grayish. Since the first experience, I have learned to do many more, smaller loads of laundry, because they are much easier to manage. A few socks here and there, a tee-shirt or so.
The experience with laundry seems to reflect my general experiences in the small city of Großenhain. Generally an aesthetically-pleasing place, with a bustling small-city atmosphere, Großenhain has much to offer its 15,000 residents (and its Fremdsprachenassistentin)—between the hours of 7:00 and 18:00, Monday through Friday. For someone coming from a small city in Massachusetts, the hours of many business are quite confusing. Instead of being open longer on weekends, for example, everything is closed. On Saturday, there are only three businesses open, as I discovered walking down all streets in the center. These businesses are all bakeries, and they are all open for only 2 or 3 hours (7:00 to 9:00 or 10:00). Other than the small children or old men fetching their Saturday (and probably also Sunday) Brötchen, the streets are deserted. No one is driving, no one is walking, no one is there.
It is beginning to get cold. When I first arrived here, I walked at least an hour a day around the city. Now, since I have yet to buy a jacket, it is too uncomfortable to walk that much. The days shorten, and the weather turns more gray. There is more cold rain. I hear that winters in the area are fairly dark, rainy, and snowless. They should at least be slightly less cold than the winters in Massachusetts—often in this area it does not go below freezing. At least that means that activities outside throughout the year will not be impossible... if it is not raining.
Dresden is the best bet. I thought I would be able to hold out for longer—I wanted to somehow “prove” to myself (or perhaps to others?) that I would “make it” living in an at least somewhat uncomfortable, or unfamiliar situation. People who I have talked with, especially Erin who I visited in Leipzig the other day (and surely not my Betreuungslehrerin/ contact teacher, who insists that I stay in Großenhain) have convinced me that this is a silly, fruitless quest.
This topic came up in the advanced 12th grade English class the other day. My favorite English teacher (with whom I currently have four classes a week) had her class read a piece by a post-colonialist author from England writing about the way that traveling has changed over the century—the quote was something like “I dislike feeling at home when I am traveling.” His idea was that, whereas traveling used to indicate escaping your own way of life, and entering a zone of discomfort and foreignness (ehem, experiencing the “Other”?), it is now impossible to do so—wherever we (the post colonizers) go, we experience sameness (globalization). However, Ilona (the teacher) continued that the search for difference or at least slight discomfort wanes with the length of time that one is in a place. She then pointed to me in the back of the class and had me comment—when you are for a year in a foreign place, even if it is not so foreign, you start looking for sameness, you start looking for comfort, and habits, and was weiß ich nicht alles.
I could live here for the whole year. I could develop patterns here that would satisfy me. I am an independent person, and I do not mind being alone that much. I have certainly managed so far—taking out many German-language movies and audiobooks out of the library, spending my nights at the fitness club for social contact (haha, but seriously...) However, having visited Dresden a couple times, I know that I could get so much more out of the year and out of myself if I moved there. Instead of spending my nights dilly-dallying and waiting to go to bed, I could join a club, better my German, have fruitful conversations about the world, join a band and make music. There are so many possibilities.
Currently I am looking at WGGesucht.de to try and find roommates. Next week I have four or five meetings lined-up with different apartments. It is a mad rush to get housing at the moment, of course, because the school semester is about to start in Dresden. This means that the people interviewing me will have already seen bus loads of other interested, and probably interesting young people. I will just have to set myself apart. Do you think I can do it!?
Thanks for reading, and stay tuned for further updates, my lovelies.
I wash my laundry in the shower. The shower does not contain a bathtub, but rather a shallow water-guard, as many showers seem to have. The first time I realized that there were no laundromats in Großenhain, I was unprepared. The bag of used-clothes grew in size until I realized that I did not have much left to wear. Looking around town was followed by asking around town for a place to wash clothes—there was nothing. My choices were either to pay a dry-cleaner an exorbitant amount to wash, dry and fold my clothes, or to go to the DM drugstore and buy a bottle of laundry detergent for 2 Euros, and spend my time instead of my money.
I opted for the second possibility. Washing so many clothes at once is, as you may imagine, quite the undertaking. Washing machines are really quite wonderful inventions. Unlike dish washing machines, which can save some minutes, but are frequently more hassle than they are worth (in my humble opinion), washing machines can save hours. One hour is not enough time to clean a load of laundry, even when working diligently and quickly. I do not have a shout-out pen, or oxy-clean. This means that my laundry smells nice after I finish, but still looks more or less the same. My should-be white socks stay black, or maybe grayish. Since the first experience, I have learned to do many more, smaller loads of laundry, because they are much easier to manage. A few socks here and there, a tee-shirt or so.
The experience with laundry seems to reflect my general experiences in the small city of Großenhain. Generally an aesthetically-pleasing place, with a bustling small-city atmosphere, Großenhain has much to offer its 15,000 residents (and its Fremdsprachenassistentin)—between the hours of 7:00 and 18:00, Monday through Friday. For someone coming from a small city in Massachusetts, the hours of many business are quite confusing. Instead of being open longer on weekends, for example, everything is closed. On Saturday, there are only three businesses open, as I discovered walking down all streets in the center. These businesses are all bakeries, and they are all open for only 2 or 3 hours (7:00 to 9:00 or 10:00). Other than the small children or old men fetching their Saturday (and probably also Sunday) Brötchen, the streets are deserted. No one is driving, no one is walking, no one is there.
It is beginning to get cold. When I first arrived here, I walked at least an hour a day around the city. Now, since I have yet to buy a jacket, it is too uncomfortable to walk that much. The days shorten, and the weather turns more gray. There is more cold rain. I hear that winters in the area are fairly dark, rainy, and snowless. They should at least be slightly less cold than the winters in Massachusetts—often in this area it does not go below freezing. At least that means that activities outside throughout the year will not be impossible... if it is not raining.
Dresden is the best bet. I thought I would be able to hold out for longer—I wanted to somehow “prove” to myself (or perhaps to others?) that I would “make it” living in an at least somewhat uncomfortable, or unfamiliar situation. People who I have talked with, especially Erin who I visited in Leipzig the other day (and surely not my Betreuungslehrerin/ contact teacher, who insists that I stay in Großenhain) have convinced me that this is a silly, fruitless quest.
This topic came up in the advanced 12th grade English class the other day. My favorite English teacher (with whom I currently have four classes a week) had her class read a piece by a post-colonialist author from England writing about the way that traveling has changed over the century—the quote was something like “I dislike feeling at home when I am traveling.” His idea was that, whereas traveling used to indicate escaping your own way of life, and entering a zone of discomfort and foreignness (ehem, experiencing the “Other”?), it is now impossible to do so—wherever we (the post colonizers) go, we experience sameness (globalization). However, Ilona (the teacher) continued that the search for difference or at least slight discomfort wanes with the length of time that one is in a place. She then pointed to me in the back of the class and had me comment—when you are for a year in a foreign place, even if it is not so foreign, you start looking for sameness, you start looking for comfort, and habits, and was weiß ich nicht alles.
I could live here for the whole year. I could develop patterns here that would satisfy me. I am an independent person, and I do not mind being alone that much. I have certainly managed so far—taking out many German-language movies and audiobooks out of the library, spending my nights at the fitness club for social contact (haha, but seriously...) However, having visited Dresden a couple times, I know that I could get so much more out of the year and out of myself if I moved there. Instead of spending my nights dilly-dallying and waiting to go to bed, I could join a club, better my German, have fruitful conversations about the world, join a band and make music. There are so many possibilities.
Currently I am looking at WGGesucht.de to try and find roommates. Next week I have four or five meetings lined-up with different apartments. It is a mad rush to get housing at the moment, of course, because the school semester is about to start in Dresden. This means that the people interviewing me will have already seen bus loads of other interested, and probably interesting young people. I will just have to set myself apart. Do you think I can do it!?
Thanks for reading, and stay tuned for further updates, my lovelies.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
One Month in Germany, Two Weeks in Großenhain
Thursday, September 24thAt the end of my second week, I am feeling much more settled in this new habitat. Although still missing some aspects of feeling “at home” or fully comfortable, the looming loneliness that I felt last week has loosened its grip on my head. These last two weeks I was in a hospitieren phase, or essentially an observation phase. However, I still did manage a couple whole classes, in which I answered questions directed at me, and came up with easy questions for the students.
In general, confidence about the success of this year as a teacher is fairly high. The teachers in the school are very supportive and thankful that I am around, and I have attempted to reiterate that I am around to help in whatever way is most helpful to them. It seems that a lot of my help will be directed at advanced language courses, as they prepare for English competitions in the second half of the year. One of my periods consists of sitting with my contact-teacher and only one particularly gifted student. This student is 16, and soaks up languages like a sponge. In classes with his age-group, he is exceedingly bored, and the more advanced courses don`t fit into his schedule. Michaela is preparing him in particular for a nationwide language competition that will take place sometime in late winter. If he wins, he would surely give the Gymnasium a good name. I am guessing this is why they are so concentrated on it. Last year, Michaela`s daughter came in third place in Germany in this contest, for French and English. Pretty impressive.
The advanced 12th grade English course is very interesting, and I am quite a fan of the teacher, with whom I have four of my classes (and I do not have any other repeats in terms of teachers). She has so far chosen very poignant, well-written pieces of literature and non-fiction for the students to respond to. Yesterday, we spoke for a lot of the class about American versus British racism. Of course, the kids did not have very much to say. They mostly answered directed questions, and did not really come up with many of their own. The 11th grade advanced class is by far my favorite so far because, as a whole, they seem to be most into learning, most curious about the world, and the nicest class to boot.
The other day I had the interesting (and simultaneously boring) chance to sit in on a teachers` meeting. They are monthly on Mondays. I found it interesting, because I got to see a lot of teachers in a completely different context. All teachers were sitting and listening to the principle of the school lecture them about the school, some programs, specifics of classes, what some teachers are doing wrong, firedrill procedures etc. The teachers were not listening. They were whispering to each other, twiddling their thumbs, rolling their eyes, yawning, staring at the clock and their watches, the clock, and their watches. This was especially the case with Michaela and Sven—the two people who I was sitting in between. I attempted to pay attention (to practice my German), and Michaela kept talking to me and complaining about what the principle was saying, and putting things into context, or simply asking or telling me about other, unrelated things. I humored both. I had fun playing into the role of bored student. More to come on the German education system, and its differences and similarities to the American system. There is just too much to cover today.
In terms of living arrangements, my room is feeling much more like home. However, I am not so comfortable with the kitchen situation and the hall-mate situation. The only people I interact with are the three girls I share the kitchen with, and a male friend of theirs. All four live near the closet-like kitchen, which is two floors down from my room. At first it was a very friendly atmosphere, but I think we have run out of things to converse about. They are, after all, relatively young (the one who uses the kitchen the most is 16 years old, whereas the others are a whopping 17). They are struggling through the banalities of high school, while (interestingly) living away from home most of the time—they all go home on weekends. On weekends, I think I very may well be the only person in the building, out of a possible 100 beds. Of course, this place is also used as a hostel-hotel, so there are sometimes new people dropping in and out, but they seem to usually be families.
I am pretty sure that these kitchen-mates of mine have shifted from a bemused amazement of my American origins, to a state of confused avoidance since last week. It`s not like I am not attempting to avoid being in the kitchen at the same time as them as well, because I am. The other day when I was preparing a snack of broccoli, beans and nuts, one of the girls stood at the doorway, and asked in a confused, yet pointed and accusing voice “bist du eigentlich Vegetarier?” (are you a vegetarian?). I responded, “yes, how could you tell? The amount of vegetables that I eat?” The other girl in the kitchen responded, “what? Really? I didn`t notice. Wow, Tina, you have a good judge of character.” I was interested in their response, because it definitely seemed like they never had actually met anyone vegetarian before. Andrea (kitchen-user), who continued to prepare her meat, and gravied potatoes in the microwave, continued the subject, amazed: “No meat? Really? Not at all? Why?” it was very hard for her to grasp. I attempted to explain the first experience that I had feeling incredibly uncomfortable eating chicken, and my conviction that I should be comfortable with killing something, if I am comfortable with eating it. At the moment, I am not comfortable with killing birds, or cows, or pigs. Therefore, I would rather not eat them. She really didn`t get it. I started to feel pretty strange myself, although fairly comfortable with my status, as I have defined myself as vegetarian for almost 7 years (more on ideas about food to come in the next post).
Since this interaction, our small-talk has dwindled. This was recent, however, and it is entirely possible that I was reading into the situation too much. However, the main issue at hand is still that I am in a different stage of life than them, and we really don`t have much to talk about. I could try to find stuff, and get interested in their lives and their points of view (like How to Win Friends and Inflience People suggests!) However, I really already tried to see if I could get engaged in their worlds, and it was not a very interesting or worth-while endeavor. Civility will continue.
In terms of staying, I think I am going to leave at the beginning of November and move to Dresden. Maybe in the next semester while in Dresden, I will try taking some classes at the University, or just sit in on some interesting ones. But, Id don`t know, it is SO expensive to study in Germany (this is sarcasm... most are free, but the school in Dresden requires you to pay about 500 Euros).
It is already time to start thinking about next year. I have the possibility to apply for an internship position through Fulbright, and receive the same amount of pay for the same amount of work (that is 12 hours a week for 800 Euros a month). I could maybe apply to intern at an organization that I am really interested in (something to do with food education?) and have the prestige of still being connected to Fulbright. My loans would continue to be deferred. Or, I could return home and return to comfort. I could get a job and work full time somewhere near good friends of mine. I don`t know, man, it is a little early to actually know whether I am going to feel comfortable or at home in this environment by the time I leave, or if I am really going to want to go home and reconnect with people. How fast does a year go by? I miss having a best friend, that`s for sure. I miss my Adele, my Agne and my Nina. There just are not duplicates of these people. Or, they are exceedingly hard to find, and they will probably never show themselves in Großenhain.
Fairly soon I will have a phone. Thank to god that Fulbright already transferred my baggage and travel refund money into my German bank account (200 Euros). That takes so much weight off of my shoulders, considering the first stipend check (which will actually be 2 months worth of money... SWEET) is not going to arrive until midway through my fall vacation (when I will be traveling around and spending money).
I wonder when I will actually be able to put these posts onto a website? Blogging sites are child-protected, so I cannot access them from work or the library...
Update! I am in Erin Bogg`s appartment in Leipzig. She has wireless. My computer is happy to have access to the internet for the first time in a month.
In general, confidence about the success of this year as a teacher is fairly high. The teachers in the school are very supportive and thankful that I am around, and I have attempted to reiterate that I am around to help in whatever way is most helpful to them. It seems that a lot of my help will be directed at advanced language courses, as they prepare for English competitions in the second half of the year. One of my periods consists of sitting with my contact-teacher and only one particularly gifted student. This student is 16, and soaks up languages like a sponge. In classes with his age-group, he is exceedingly bored, and the more advanced courses don`t fit into his schedule. Michaela is preparing him in particular for a nationwide language competition that will take place sometime in late winter. If he wins, he would surely give the Gymnasium a good name. I am guessing this is why they are so concentrated on it. Last year, Michaela`s daughter came in third place in Germany in this contest, for French and English. Pretty impressive.
The advanced 12th grade English course is very interesting, and I am quite a fan of the teacher, with whom I have four of my classes (and I do not have any other repeats in terms of teachers). She has so far chosen very poignant, well-written pieces of literature and non-fiction for the students to respond to. Yesterday, we spoke for a lot of the class about American versus British racism. Of course, the kids did not have very much to say. They mostly answered directed questions, and did not really come up with many of their own. The 11th grade advanced class is by far my favorite so far because, as a whole, they seem to be most into learning, most curious about the world, and the nicest class to boot.
The other day I had the interesting (and simultaneously boring) chance to sit in on a teachers` meeting. They are monthly on Mondays. I found it interesting, because I got to see a lot of teachers in a completely different context. All teachers were sitting and listening to the principle of the school lecture them about the school, some programs, specifics of classes, what some teachers are doing wrong, firedrill procedures etc. The teachers were not listening. They were whispering to each other, twiddling their thumbs, rolling their eyes, yawning, staring at the clock and their watches, the clock, and their watches. This was especially the case with Michaela and Sven—the two people who I was sitting in between. I attempted to pay attention (to practice my German), and Michaela kept talking to me and complaining about what the principle was saying, and putting things into context, or simply asking or telling me about other, unrelated things. I humored both. I had fun playing into the role of bored student. More to come on the German education system, and its differences and similarities to the American system. There is just too much to cover today.
In terms of living arrangements, my room is feeling much more like home. However, I am not so comfortable with the kitchen situation and the hall-mate situation. The only people I interact with are the three girls I share the kitchen with, and a male friend of theirs. All four live near the closet-like kitchen, which is two floors down from my room. At first it was a very friendly atmosphere, but I think we have run out of things to converse about. They are, after all, relatively young (the one who uses the kitchen the most is 16 years old, whereas the others are a whopping 17). They are struggling through the banalities of high school, while (interestingly) living away from home most of the time—they all go home on weekends. On weekends, I think I very may well be the only person in the building, out of a possible 100 beds. Of course, this place is also used as a hostel-hotel, so there are sometimes new people dropping in and out, but they seem to usually be families.
I am pretty sure that these kitchen-mates of mine have shifted from a bemused amazement of my American origins, to a state of confused avoidance since last week. It`s not like I am not attempting to avoid being in the kitchen at the same time as them as well, because I am. The other day when I was preparing a snack of broccoli, beans and nuts, one of the girls stood at the doorway, and asked in a confused, yet pointed and accusing voice “bist du eigentlich Vegetarier?” (are you a vegetarian?). I responded, “yes, how could you tell? The amount of vegetables that I eat?” The other girl in the kitchen responded, “what? Really? I didn`t notice. Wow, Tina, you have a good judge of character.” I was interested in their response, because it definitely seemed like they never had actually met anyone vegetarian before. Andrea (kitchen-user), who continued to prepare her meat, and gravied potatoes in the microwave, continued the subject, amazed: “No meat? Really? Not at all? Why?” it was very hard for her to grasp. I attempted to explain the first experience that I had feeling incredibly uncomfortable eating chicken, and my conviction that I should be comfortable with killing something, if I am comfortable with eating it. At the moment, I am not comfortable with killing birds, or cows, or pigs. Therefore, I would rather not eat them. She really didn`t get it. I started to feel pretty strange myself, although fairly comfortable with my status, as I have defined myself as vegetarian for almost 7 years (more on ideas about food to come in the next post).
Since this interaction, our small-talk has dwindled. This was recent, however, and it is entirely possible that I was reading into the situation too much. However, the main issue at hand is still that I am in a different stage of life than them, and we really don`t have much to talk about. I could try to find stuff, and get interested in their lives and their points of view (like How to Win Friends and Inflience People suggests!) However, I really already tried to see if I could get engaged in their worlds, and it was not a very interesting or worth-while endeavor. Civility will continue.
In terms of staying, I think I am going to leave at the beginning of November and move to Dresden. Maybe in the next semester while in Dresden, I will try taking some classes at the University, or just sit in on some interesting ones. But, Id don`t know, it is SO expensive to study in Germany (this is sarcasm... most are free, but the school in Dresden requires you to pay about 500 Euros).
It is already time to start thinking about next year. I have the possibility to apply for an internship position through Fulbright, and receive the same amount of pay for the same amount of work (that is 12 hours a week for 800 Euros a month). I could maybe apply to intern at an organization that I am really interested in (something to do with food education?) and have the prestige of still being connected to Fulbright. My loans would continue to be deferred. Or, I could return home and return to comfort. I could get a job and work full time somewhere near good friends of mine. I don`t know, man, it is a little early to actually know whether I am going to feel comfortable or at home in this environment by the time I leave, or if I am really going to want to go home and reconnect with people. How fast does a year go by? I miss having a best friend, that`s for sure. I miss my Adele, my Agne and my Nina. There just are not duplicates of these people. Or, they are exceedingly hard to find, and they will probably never show themselves in Großenhain.
Fairly soon I will have a phone. Thank to god that Fulbright already transferred my baggage and travel refund money into my German bank account (200 Euros). That takes so much weight off of my shoulders, considering the first stipend check (which will actually be 2 months worth of money... SWEET) is not going to arrive until midway through my fall vacation (when I will be traveling around and spending money).
I wonder when I will actually be able to put these posts onto a website? Blogging sites are child-protected, so I cannot access them from work or the library...
Update! I am in Erin Bogg`s appartment in Leipzig. She has wireless. My computer is happy to have access to the internet for the first time in a month.
September 12th. Arriving, Traveling, Orienting
12th of September, 2009
I am at the moment sitting in my room in the Pension House Faust listening to the Stitchcraft Album, which I was elated to learn that I had in fact after all copied onto my computer months ago when I purchased it. It is heightening a feeling of nostalgia. Or, I am not even sure if it is nostalgia, more like a realization that I am an old operator sitting in front of a myriad of connection ports, making new connections at an alarming rate. Some of these connections come from my past, but many feel entirely new and without comparison.
In the last two weeks I have been in Berlin, Tröbsdorf, Herleshausen, and Köln (really Altenburg, where the PAD orientation meeting was). In Berlin I stayed in the hostel where Matt McCown works. While there, I befriended a band who just happened to have stopped in the hostel cafe. I decided to just start a conversation with this group of English people, and then ended up going to their show, and staying up until 4 am or so dancing and laughing and having some wine. It was really fun.
Life in Tröbsdorf is different since the last time I was there, which was before college. The house looks almost exactly the same, as does the town itself. However, whereas Barbara used to stay home, she now has a job that keeps her busy from 9 PM to 9 AM three day a week. This job is working at a home for children who have been taken out of bad families. It seems to be fairly stressful, but she explained to me that mostly she has time to sleep between 12 AM and 4 AM. I am guessing she had to take up a job because two more of her children are more than 18 years old, which means that the Kindergeld they were receiving for having those children is now no longer coming in. Along with having a job comes a lack of time. Whereas Barbara and Clemens used to cook only using a wood stove, they now have an electric burner. Their cow is gone, their little garden is mostly overgrown. This means that they are getting all of their food from the supermarket. Another interesting development is that, as far as I can tell, they have no fridge. The cheese and milk and everything stays out in a box in the kitchen. I am guessing that it gets eating fast enough by the 6 people still living there, that there are primarily no problems. Franziska and Daniel, who used to be my best friends on the farm (they were 7 and 6 the last time I was there), have now entered the phase of life in which they are too old to be children, but too young to socialize as adults. My new best friends are Helene and Elizabeth, who are now 7 and 5, and extremely cute. One of the best things about Tröbsdorf was that there were so many fruit trees around. I ate so many fresh apples, pears and plums straight from the trees.In
Herleshausen, I worked full-time Thursday and Friday harvesting for the market, then sold produce at the Saturday market with Manfred. They really had a lot of different kinds of vegetables and fruits (pumpkin, zucchini, onion, 5 kinds of cabbage, green beans, 8 types of tomatoes, plums, mirabellen, sweet corn, peppers, egg plant, carrots, chard, lettuce... more) The stand was probably 25% bigger than the last time I worked there. I was pleasantly surprised by how the children were behaving themselves this time around. They were still a little rowdy, but they were much more inclined to listen to what I had to stay. In addition, they were especially happy to see me when I arrived, and really the whole time I was there (less than a week). Malte was especially inspired by my guitar playing, and Ina thanked me profusely for the influence. She was very happy that Malte could see that playing an instrument does not have to be as formal as taking structured lessons.
My contact teacher here is Michaela. She is very friendly, and I appreciate her sarcasm. Her English is really quite good, and it is definitely not obvious that she is German when she speaks. It is a bit funny of an accent, a mixture of many different English styles (Australian, English, Irish, American), but her English is better than my German. She has helped a lot, and as invited me every night over for dinner with her family. It may be a little too much, but I feel like it is important to make the connections, so I continued to go. Her daughter just graduated from Gymnasium (as I think I heard, the best in her class), and is heading out, humorously enough, the entire year to Italy to teach small children in a small town.
The first day of school is this upcoming Monday. In principle, I am just observing the classes for two weeks before I start teaching classes. However, my very first day, I will be talking a bit about New York City to a couple of the advanced classes. One weird thing that I am going to have to adapt to, is that I am, according to Michaela, not supposed to let the students address me in the informal, or ever hang out with them (even if they are only 4 years younger than me). This will certainly be something to get used to. I do not like being formal with even people older than me, and now I will be that authority figure.
This pension house is nicer than I expected. Because of how the situation worked out, I ended up getting a double room, and paying for a single. This will be wonderful for guests, if I ever have any, considering I have two beds. Also, the bathroom is like a hotel bathroom. The rent is the equivalent of $330 per month “warm” (or, all utilities included, with a cleaning lady). If a New College student is reading this, the bedroom itself is the equivalent of 1.5 Z-dorm bedrooms, plus a 1.5 Z-dorm bathroom. The kitchen is down two floors, small, and very “DDR” (plastic drawers, squeeks, closet-like), but it is definitely do-able. If it is not too expensive, I plan on looking around for a fridge, and a mini-stove, so I do not have to pay for using the kitchen. My rent would go down considerably (by 34 Euros a month!) if I did not use their kitchen.
Sachsen is, unfortunately, the Bundesland with the highest percent of people who vote for the NPD (Nationalists or Nazis without using the word Nazi). In fact, a couple members of the NPD actually made it through the last elections, which is pretty scary. Michaela told me on Friday that she heard that this particular county actually can boast that it has the highest percent of people who voted for NPD in the entire country! Woo hoo. That is super exciting. So far, I have seen posters for the NPD (with slogans something like “German jobs are for Germans”) a couple times around town during my walks around, but I have not seen anyone who I would specifically target as being a Nazi... of course, I also have not seen any “foreigners” (I have only been here for a couple days).
Tomorrow (Sunday when I am writing this), I plan on biking 30 km to Meißen and back. Apparently there is a really pretty church there and some other nice things. Hopefully stuff will be open a little bit, but maybe not because it is Sunday, and nothing is open on Sunday in Germany (besides Churches!).
I am at the moment sitting in my room in the Pension House Faust listening to the Stitchcraft Album, which I was elated to learn that I had in fact after all copied onto my computer months ago when I purchased it. It is heightening a feeling of nostalgia. Or, I am not even sure if it is nostalgia, more like a realization that I am an old operator sitting in front of a myriad of connection ports, making new connections at an alarming rate. Some of these connections come from my past, but many feel entirely new and without comparison.
In the last two weeks I have been in Berlin, Tröbsdorf, Herleshausen, and Köln (really Altenburg, where the PAD orientation meeting was). In Berlin I stayed in the hostel where Matt McCown works. While there, I befriended a band who just happened to have stopped in the hostel cafe. I decided to just start a conversation with this group of English people, and then ended up going to their show, and staying up until 4 am or so dancing and laughing and having some wine. It was really fun.
Life in Tröbsdorf is different since the last time I was there, which was before college. The house looks almost exactly the same, as does the town itself. However, whereas Barbara used to stay home, she now has a job that keeps her busy from 9 PM to 9 AM three day a week. This job is working at a home for children who have been taken out of bad families. It seems to be fairly stressful, but she explained to me that mostly she has time to sleep between 12 AM and 4 AM. I am guessing she had to take up a job because two more of her children are more than 18 years old, which means that the Kindergeld they were receiving for having those children is now no longer coming in. Along with having a job comes a lack of time. Whereas Barbara and Clemens used to cook only using a wood stove, they now have an electric burner. Their cow is gone, their little garden is mostly overgrown. This means that they are getting all of their food from the supermarket. Another interesting development is that, as far as I can tell, they have no fridge. The cheese and milk and everything stays out in a box in the kitchen. I am guessing that it gets eating fast enough by the 6 people still living there, that there are primarily no problems. Franziska and Daniel, who used to be my best friends on the farm (they were 7 and 6 the last time I was there), have now entered the phase of life in which they are too old to be children, but too young to socialize as adults. My new best friends are Helene and Elizabeth, who are now 7 and 5, and extremely cute. One of the best things about Tröbsdorf was that there were so many fruit trees around. I ate so many fresh apples, pears and plums straight from the trees.In
Herleshausen, I worked full-time Thursday and Friday harvesting for the market, then sold produce at the Saturday market with Manfred. They really had a lot of different kinds of vegetables and fruits (pumpkin, zucchini, onion, 5 kinds of cabbage, green beans, 8 types of tomatoes, plums, mirabellen, sweet corn, peppers, egg plant, carrots, chard, lettuce... more) The stand was probably 25% bigger than the last time I worked there. I was pleasantly surprised by how the children were behaving themselves this time around. They were still a little rowdy, but they were much more inclined to listen to what I had to stay. In addition, they were especially happy to see me when I arrived, and really the whole time I was there (less than a week). Malte was especially inspired by my guitar playing, and Ina thanked me profusely for the influence. She was very happy that Malte could see that playing an instrument does not have to be as formal as taking structured lessons.
My contact teacher here is Michaela. She is very friendly, and I appreciate her sarcasm. Her English is really quite good, and it is definitely not obvious that she is German when she speaks. It is a bit funny of an accent, a mixture of many different English styles (Australian, English, Irish, American), but her English is better than my German. She has helped a lot, and as invited me every night over for dinner with her family. It may be a little too much, but I feel like it is important to make the connections, so I continued to go. Her daughter just graduated from Gymnasium (as I think I heard, the best in her class), and is heading out, humorously enough, the entire year to Italy to teach small children in a small town.
The first day of school is this upcoming Monday. In principle, I am just observing the classes for two weeks before I start teaching classes. However, my very first day, I will be talking a bit about New York City to a couple of the advanced classes. One weird thing that I am going to have to adapt to, is that I am, according to Michaela, not supposed to let the students address me in the informal, or ever hang out with them (even if they are only 4 years younger than me). This will certainly be something to get used to. I do not like being formal with even people older than me, and now I will be that authority figure.
This pension house is nicer than I expected. Because of how the situation worked out, I ended up getting a double room, and paying for a single. This will be wonderful for guests, if I ever have any, considering I have two beds. Also, the bathroom is like a hotel bathroom. The rent is the equivalent of $330 per month “warm” (or, all utilities included, with a cleaning lady). If a New College student is reading this, the bedroom itself is the equivalent of 1.5 Z-dorm bedrooms, plus a 1.5 Z-dorm bathroom. The kitchen is down two floors, small, and very “DDR” (plastic drawers, squeeks, closet-like), but it is definitely do-able. If it is not too expensive, I plan on looking around for a fridge, and a mini-stove, so I do not have to pay for using the kitchen. My rent would go down considerably (by 34 Euros a month!) if I did not use their kitchen.
Sachsen is, unfortunately, the Bundesland with the highest percent of people who vote for the NPD (Nationalists or Nazis without using the word Nazi). In fact, a couple members of the NPD actually made it through the last elections, which is pretty scary. Michaela told me on Friday that she heard that this particular county actually can boast that it has the highest percent of people who voted for NPD in the entire country! Woo hoo. That is super exciting. So far, I have seen posters for the NPD (with slogans something like “German jobs are for Germans”) a couple times around town during my walks around, but I have not seen anyone who I would specifically target as being a Nazi... of course, I also have not seen any “foreigners” (I have only been here for a couple days).
Tomorrow (Sunday when I am writing this), I plan on biking 30 km to Meißen and back. Apparently there is a really pretty church there and some other nice things. Hopefully stuff will be open a little bit, but maybe not because it is Sunday, and nothing is open on Sunday in Germany (besides Churches!).
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