Ein Guten Rutsch!

'Tis the season for holiday shopping at the Weihnacht markets in Munich (and all over Germany, for that matter):

Munich Christmas Market

Greetings from the Munich Weinachtmarkt!

Which means one must drink Gluhwein to "ease into the holiday spirit" or more necessarily, to deal with the push and shove of the crowds that have infiltrated Munich since the markets opened a month ago:

Maxx and Steve Sharing a Gluhwein Moment

However, this past Sunday Steve and I decided to forgo the Gluhwein and avoid the crowds all together. It had snowed the previous evening and the temperature was in the bone chilling single digits:

Snow on the Isar

Snow by Our Apartment

So, we headed to the Pinakothek Der Moderne, Munich's modern art museum. The Museum houses some amazing pieces by Max Beckmann, Pablo Picasso, Andy Warhol, Salvador Dali, and much more:

Observing a New Piece at the Modern Pinakothek
(Unfortunately, I forgot to write down the name of this piece and its artist.)

Yet, as in all modern art museums I visit, some of the works left me questioning, "Is this art?"

Pink Flamingo

(Two strings connected from floor to ceiling.)

Schattenraum

(A big box with a black painting mounted on the wall behind it.)

Untitled

(Florescent lights forming a pattern across a room.)

Unknown
(Everyday objects floating on the wall. Unfortunately, I forgot to write down the name of this piece, too.)

In other news, tomorrow we fly to Boston to celebrate the holidays with our family. Have a joyous holiday season and an excellent slide into the new year. Ein guten Rutsch!

Second Largest Menorah in the World (At Least It Was In 2006)
(Outside the Jewish Museum in Munich)

Our Menorahs on Day Number Seven

Steve's Awesome Lego Advent Calendar

Doctor Office Frustrations

Ever since Steve and I started dating, we go to his family's house in Boston for Christmas. It is an awesome time with lots of great company, delicious foods, and fun traditions. The only challenge is that usually four or five cats join us for the holiday festivities. If you know me, then you know that I am (very unfortunately) extremely allergic to animals and of all animals, I am most allergic to cats.

To prep for our visit, I always take loads of preventative allergy and asthma medicines. However, this year that proved to be much more difficult than I had ever imagined:

A few weeks ago I made an appointment and went to see Dr. März, an English-speaking German doctor recommened to me on Toytown.

I asked her to prescribe me the preventative asthma medicine that my doctor in the US had prescribed me the past four years. Instead, she gave me what she said was the German equivalent, a Budesonide inhaler, and five minutes later I was filling my prescription at the pharmacy.

After a few days of taking this medicine, I started waking up wheezing twice every night. Also, my throat became inflamed, I had a cough, and my mouth was swollen every morning. At first I it didn't register why this was happening, so I kept taking the inhalant. Then I realized that the only thing I had changed in my routine was the Budesonide.

Finally, I looked up its side effects online (http://www.medicinen...er/article.htm, http://www.netdoctor...100002197.html, http://www.nlm.nih.g...s/a699056.html, http://www.nlm.nih.g...s/a699056.html):

As it turns out Budesonide can cause wheezing, a sore throat (in 1 in every 10 people that take it), difficulty falling or staying asleep, along with many other problems. And guess what, I was being hit with just about all of them.

The next day, I went back to see Dr. März and tell her that I was having trouble with the new inhaler. As I checked-in, one of her nurses asked me to go down to the pharmacy and get the German names of the medicines I normally take. Once I returned, the nurse forgot I was there and I ended up waiting two hours to see the doctor. When I went to ask when I could expect to see the doctor, the nurse was horribly, and I mean horribly, rude. Finally, I got called into Dr. März's office to discuss the issues.

As if things couldn't get worse, Dr. März denied that Budesonide has any side effects (all of which are listed on hundreds of websites including the three above).

She blamed my symptoms on diseases and allergy inducing things floating around Munich, did not even look at my throat, or really listen to anything I said (for that matter). She also looked at the German names of the medicines I usually take (provided by the pharmacy) and said that I did not need those medicines. Instead, she tried to prescribe me yet another asthma medication, which I frustratingly declined for fear of similar results.

So now I'm back to square one and looking for a new doctor in Germany...

Luckily, because of the German health care system, I can visit any number of doctors in a three month window by paying only 10 Euros at my first visit and then none thereafter. Thanks universal health care!

All Aboard the Munich-Nuremburg Express, or our trip on the fastest slow train in Germany

On a cold Saturday morning, Jamie and I lay silently in our bed, listening for a sound we were all too certain to hear: the ringing of our alarm clock. We were ready for a routine ride on the regional train to Nuremburg--the Franconian city known far and wide as the Christmas Market Capital of the Federal Republic. We were excited for the market, but we sure didn't expect the journey there to take on Van Allsburgian dimensions. How wrong we were; in the end, as is so often the case, getting there was the adventure.

Our Goal: The Nuremberg Christmas Market

We'd noticed that the rail connection from Munich to Nuremburg, a short one-hour-and-one-minute journey on the high speed/high price/high strung Inter-City-Express, tended to run just over two hours on the less expensive regional trains. In comparison to the ICE trains, which are everything that European rail service is cracked up to be, the regional trains are something like Germany's version of a Greyhound bus.

The tension between the German Railways's red regional fleet and its white inter-city service was evident on a trip we took recently to Wuerzburg. We had rushed to the station on another recent morning, bought our ticket and climbed on board the red regional express train. We stowed our bags and took off our coats. We settled into our seats and prepared for a relaxing journey. We observed the passengers around us and tried to guess where they were from and where they were going. Finally it hit us, we'd been sitting in the train for over twenty minutes, and we were still waiting on track twenty-one in Munich. Soon, the harried voice of our conductor boomed out of the normally scratchy loudspeaker. "Because of the actions of a passenger on an Inter-City train," he announced, "our time of departure is delayed indefinitely." The words "Inter-City train" were pronounced in a particularly perturbed tone. Clearly, the fact that the hare was delaying the tortoise was not too pleasing to our conductor. It wasn't only the conductor's tone of voice that left of us scratching our heads in the wake of this pronouncement. It had been a more specific statement than many of the announcements made by German Railways personnel, but it was far from precise. We were left to speculate at to just what the passenger onboard the fast train had done to upset the crew of our train until we lurched out of the station fifteen minutes later. Finally after our train returned to a complete stop in the midst of the snowy Bavarian countryside, we were treated to some answers. "Because of the actions of a passenger on an Inter-City train who has pulled the emergency break," the conductor bellowed into a microphone somewhere in the belly of our train, "we have left Munich with a delay of 38 minutes." He paused. "And we have just been informed that we will be waiting here until an ICE train passes us." Another pause. "We will also be waiting at our next two stops so that additional high speed trains can pass us. In spite of this, we wish you a pleasant journey. Thank you for traveling with German Rail." As you can guess by now, we didn't get to Wuerzburg on time... But the rest of that day is a completely different story. The regional express ride to Nuremburg was quite different.

In contrast to the great selection of seats and nearly limitless space for luggage that we found on board the train to Wuerzburg, we knew the Nuremburg express was going to be packed before we even climbed onboard. We arrived half an hour early, but the platform was already swarming with a veritable horde of soon-to-be Christmas shoppers. Clearly, seats on board the train to Nuremberg were going to be in as high demand as mulled wine at a German Christmas Market. We were prepared for the big squish--and visions of standing all the way to Franconia were dancing in our heads.

The train pulled into the station, and the people got out. And got out. And got out. And then, just when we thought it was our turn to get in, some more people got out. It was almost like watching a clown car unload, only it was ten-train-cars long. Finally, the people were all out, and we raced to get on board. Luckily for us, our determination to board the train as quickly as possible in the most remote car possible was rewarded with seats around a little table in the middle of the car; we almost fooled ourselves into thinking we could sit back and relax. As the minutes until our impending departure ticked by, passengers just kept boarding the train. We gritted our teeth and settled in for a long ride on the slow train to Nuremberg.


As we pulled out of the station, we were greeted by the remarkably cheery voice of our conductor. It would be an exaggeration to say that he entertained us with stories and jokes, but in contrast to the vast majority of German Rail's workforce, he shared information that could be considered less than necessary, and even translated everything he said in German into understandable English.

We soon learned the reason that the conductor's spirits were so buoyant despite the fact that his train was weighed down with enough passengers to raise questions about Germany's railway firecode (or lack thereof). "Welcome on board the Munich-Nuremberg Express," he crowed, "the fastest regional train in Germany." Wow. Apparently, we were in for a real treat. Instead of spending two-plus hours in a train doomed to stop at "every station passed underway," as we had on the way to Wuerzburg, the Munich-Nuremberg Express was traveling on a remarkably straight track fenced off from the bucolic Bavarian landscape and normally restricted to the high-speed Inter-City trains. Villages, farmsteads, and forests whizzed by our window. The stations we stopped at seemed to be in the middle of nowhere--the exact opposite of the typical city-center central stations so common in Germany.

Nevertheless, at one of the desolate park and ride stops we deigned to halt at, we spied a troop of Germans in Santa hats waiting to board the train. Far from aiding us in imagining ourselves aboard the Polar Express on a magical Christmastime journey, this was a worrisome sight. Not only was the train was already overcrowded, Germans in matching outfits on public transit generally mean trouble. Like soccer fans or bachelor's party participants, who wear matching t-shirts, fill the train with drinking songs, and generally take advantage of Germany's lack of an open container law, the Santas shuffled into the aisle and immediately opened up their backpacks to reveal a dazzling array of all things alcoholic. From Sprite mixed with vodka, to beer and schnapps, to tins of fruit floating in liquor, they had it all. Clearly these Santas were unwilling to wait til we got to Nuremberg to start fortifying themselves against the cold with mulled wine.

The Santas occupy the aisle...

...and break out the booze.

Before the Santa squad had had enough time to bother anyone but an old woman who was incensed by the fact that they were talking to one another across the car, however, we saw the outskirts of Nuremberg whizzing past us out the window.


The Munich-Nuremberg Express, the crown jewel of German Rail's regional system, had delivered its cargo of Christmas shoppers to Nuremberg in record time. We realized that we could look forward to thirty bonus minutes of perusing the market. The Christmas spirit overtook us and we headed straight for the mulled wine.

Yoga Makes the World Go 'Round

Because yoga is the one constant that keeps me in balance, I decidely could not leave for Germany without my yoga mat. Despite the airline's luggage size and weight limits, I made my mat a priority; so, I left out some bulky sweaters and crammed that thing into my suitcase.

Moving here, I wasn't too hopeful that I'd find a great yoga studio. I planned on practicing a bit on my own and suffering through what I imaged to be harsh German-style yoga classes.

Then, about two months ago as I was aimlessly roaming through Munich on my way to meet Steve for lunch, I happened upon a Jivamukti yoga studio. I was in shock and very excited! (Jivamukti was the type of yoga I used to practice with Allison at CYCO.) Of all places, I did NOT expect Germany to have many yoga studios or any Jivamukti instructors or classes for that matter. After doing some research about the studio, I came to learn that there are actually three Jivamukti specific studios in the Munich area.

However, at the time I was too intimidated to go to a class. (All of the classes are in German.) But finally, about two months ago (after a 3-4 month yoga class sabbatical), I finally took a chance and went to a class at the studio closest to our apartment. And...

It was fantastic!!

I only understood about half of the instructions, mainly "einatmen, ausatmen," but the class was easy to follow. It was very similar to our class in North Carolina.

Lying in shavasana, I wanted to laugh and cry. I was so happy to have such a familiarity in such a far away place, but it also made me miss my Carrboro niche. However, I had always heard and it was nice to confirm that yoga really is a universal language...even in Germany.

Turkey Day(s)

As Steve and I walked to the train at 4:30pm on November 26, I felt nothing but mopey and very sorry for myself. "It doesn't feel like Thanksgiving," I lamented.

I had just attended four hours of German class and Steve had met me at the DB Station after a long day of seminars and research. There was no sleeping-in. No Macy's Day Parade. No smell of turkey roasting in our oven. It was cold and wet. And, we were traipsing 45 minutes outside of the city to spend Thanksgiving dinner with Steve's professor and colleagues. Not only were we missing out on all of our own traditions, but I was also being forced to dress up and be on my best behavior.

"Joy," I thought. "So much to be thankful for..."

However, after spending some time with Steve on the train, I began to cheer up; and, when we got to Professor Christof Mauch's house, there was definitely a lot for which to be thankful!

Immediately, we were handed glasses of wine and deliciously smelling bowls of pumpkin soup (both filled to the brim). As it turns out, Christof's wife, Wendy, is American. Together, they cooked a mean Thanksgiving dinner with all of the trimmings and then some. During dinner, all 20 guests took turns swapping stories. And interestingly, we got to meet Professor Michael Brenner, the only Jewish Studies professor in Munich - a German Jew, born after the War.

Because we had no idea what Thanksgiving, and then Christof, had in store for us, Steve and I also decided to host our own Thanksgiving meal on the Saturday after the real holiday. We invited Franklin (a friend from Chapel Hill who is also doing research in Germany, but not in Munich), Kurt and Edeltraud, Anna and Thomas (Kurt and Edeltraud's daughter and son-in-law), and our friends Andy and Whitney.

In Germany, let alone our unstocked kitchen, this proved to be a bigger challenge than imagined. Steve and I wandered to butcher shops all over the city in order to find a whole turkey. Germans sell frozen geese at the supermarkets, but no turkeys!! We finally found a fresh, cage free, and super-expensive turkey at a butcher shop near my school.

We also had to invest in some plates and silverware from Weisser Rabe, a famous thrift shop in Munich. Steve's mom mailed us canned-cranberries and aluminum pie plates for the occasion, which arrived just in time, the afternoon before our big shabang! I made a pumpkin pie from a real pumpkin, since canned pumpkin doesn't exist in Deutschland. Franklin brought devine pumpkin butter mailed from his family. And, Andy and Whitney brought over some Stove Top to complete the meal:

Turkey Day in Our New Place
(From the left: Kurt, Franklin, Anna, Thomas, Andy, Whitney, Steve, and Edeltraud)

Thankfully, both of our turkey days ended up being a lecker success.

Berlin, punkt.

With Berlin, I don't know where to start. From the beginning I found Berlin a bit overwhelming, which wasn't necessarily a bad thing. But now I know why people refer to Munich as a village. It is much smaller (in area) than Berlin and, at least to me, much easier to navigate. Munich also has a smallish city-center and it is very easy to get around zu Fuß. Whereas, in Berlin there is a lot more space; and, unless you want to spend the entire day walking from point A to point B, you should take public transportation everywhere. Yet, because of Berlin's crazy history and diverse neighborhoods, there is so much to do and see in the city that it is impossible to conquer it in a week, let alone years.

The night Steve and I arrived, we chose to take it easy after our six hour train trek across the country. We stayed with Steve's old roommate, Susann, in Neukölln (a gentrifying area in the outskirts of the city...but really, aren't they all?):

Graffiti in Neukölln
(Graffiti is EVERYWHERE in Germany and especially abundant in Berlin.)

Because we already told you about our experiences celebrating the Mauerfall Anniversary, I will skip that.

The rest of the week, Steve spent most of his time in archives and I (when not sick in bed) spent most of my time in museums. It may sound boring, but museums in Berlin are fantastic! If you ever find yourself in Berlin, please note that on Thursday evenings, entrance to most State art museums is frei. Below are some pictures from the Pergamon Museum, by far my favorite museum in Berlin:

Pergamon Altar
(This structure was orginally built in the 2nd century BC in ancient Greece.)

Me and My New Best Friend, Mr. Ionic Column
(Can you believe this is just the top part of a column? It's huge!)

Ishtar Gate
(This was the eighth gate to the inner city of Babylon, constructed in approximately 575 BC by King Nebuchadnezzar II.)

I also ventured to Checkpoint Charlie, the most famous checkpoint between East and West Berlin during the Cold War. Today, there isn't much there except for a sign declaring that you are either entering or leaving the American Sector and the official booth where real soldiers once stood guard and now an "American Soldier" stands waiting to rip you off. Once you get your picture taken with the soldier, he then declares in a thick German accent, "That will be ein Euro, bitte." Even more expensive is the Haus am Checkpoint Charlie, but on the other hand, much more worth it than a picture with a fake soldier:

You Are Now Leaving the American Sector
(Beware!)

Checkpoint Charlie
(Do you think this picture was worth it?)

Also, Steve took me to Treptower Park, the Soviet War Memorial designed and erected in East Berlin to show that it was, in fact, the Russians who single-handedly defeated the Nazis. The Park is surrounded by several large and looming statues glorifying the Russian defense force. One in particular depicts a Russian soldier smashing the Swastika with his boot, while saving a child with his non-sword-occupied arm:

Treptower Park
(Imposing Statue #1)

Treptower Park
(Imposing Statue #2...and there are plenty more where this comes from.)

Other than that, Steve and I ate a lot of amazingly delicious food and hung out with friends:

Susann and Steve
(On Steve's birthday at the 12 Apostles with a surprise birthday cake.)

Steve and Jacob
(Eating burgers at "The Bird")

The Infamous Rissani Teller
(And, of course, me and Steve)

We plan on visiting Berlin again in March. I hope to have some better stories for you then, instead of just show-and-tell. Bis bald!

Himbeer Heinie

I know I promised you more about Berlin, which I still plan on posting shortly; but first, I must tell you about our night at the Augustiner Bräustuben with Himbeer Heinie.

As you have probably gathered from our previous postings, Augustiner is mine and Steve's favorite beer company here in Munich. Paulaner joined forces with Star Brand Imports and the yucky tasting Hacker-Pschorr and Franziskaner became partners with the evil empire of the Spaten-Löwenbrau-Gruppe. But, Augustiner is no sell out. The brand is still authentic and pure. It remains by and for the people. (And as we found out, you can buy a half liter of Augustiner beer at the Bräustuben for 2.55 Euros, which is a really great deal):

Half Liters of Hell und Dunkel
(Hell is light beer - in flavor, not calories. Dunkel is dark beer.)

So naturally, when a new friend from my language school invited us to check out Augustiner's official Bräustuben last night, we could not refuse.

At first the loud and crazy, traditional Bavarian beer hall was a bit overwhelming. It was difficult to find seats amongst the crowd. (At traditional Bavarian beer halls, there are long tables with big wooden benches. You are expected to sit with strangers and make new friends over shared beers and brezen.) However, once we found a table, the friendly and fun atmosphere warmed us immediately:

Augustiner Bräustuben
(This is one of many rooms, including a roof deck!)

Hanging Out at the Beer Hall
(Wanda, Cris, Me, and Steve)

We were squished on a bench with a soccer club from a tiny village somewhere outside of a tiny town (both of which I had never heard). The players had thick Bavarian accents that only Steve could really understand. And they were also slurring miserably due to being five hours and about 10 beers deep.

Yet, despite all of this, we managed to communicate and the men were very excited to find out that we were from America and Brazil. They wanted to know everything!

After talking for awhile, we finally got to introductions. Roland, who was sitting next to Steve and liked to be called "Roll," wanted us to meet his friend at the other end of the table. He told us to yell his friend's nickname in order to get his attention. (Apparently, all club members took their nicknames VERY seriously.)

But, his friend's nickname was Himbeer Heinie.

Well at that point, I almost fell out of my chair laughing and I could not manage yelling "Himbeer Heinie" across the restaurant. Himbeer auf Deutsch is raspberry. And, we all know what Americans use "Heinie" to reference:

Himbeer Heinie and Soccer Club Friends
(Himbeer Heinie is the guy on the left. You can see Roll's arm and nose on the leftside of the picture, but unfortunately, he is not completely in the frame.)

Apparently, Heinie does not have the same (or a) meaning in German; it is just a name. But to the four of us, Roll's friend is now and forever "Raspberry Bottom".

der Residenz

Okay... So I would like to post more about our Reise nach Berlin, because despite being sick for more than half of our trip (due to standing in 40 degree rainy weather for six hours at the Mauer Fall celebration), I actually did get to explore a fair amount of the city. However, after a grueling day of difficult Deutsch learning, I do not have the energy to recount our adventures. Instead, I am going to introduce you to our tiny, new Residenz!

However, first I must explain why our new Wohnung is called "der Residenz". In Munich's city center, der Residenz is the former royal palace of Bavarian monarchs. It housed dukes and kings through 1918 and is now the largest downtown palace in Germany, which is actually saying a lot. In order to aspire to such magnificance, I deemed our place der Residenz.

Below is a photo tour; yet, feel free to come visit it (or us) in person anytime:

Entry Hall and Study

(All rooms connect to the entry hall.)

Washroom
(Unfortunately for me but not for the environment, Germans do not believe in dryers.)

La Cocina
(Complete with big fridge, freezer, and real oven!)


Schlafzimmer
(Since this picture was taken, we have replaced the creepy picture above the bed with white space.)

Living Area
(Which is also in the same room as our sleeping area.)

This completes the photo tour of der Residenz at this time. We plan to make updates to our new space periodically. But for further information and to see future improvements, you must visit in person. Thank you for your virtual interest in der Residenz.

Mr. Walesa, knock down that domino!

Walking down a sunny Munich street last week, I mentioned to Jamie that I would be thrilled if it was 55 degrees and clear on my birthday. Little did I know then just how thrilled I would have been.

Instead of being thrilled, I was chilled. And wet. And well... bored. And I don't think I was the only one. Most of the foreign dignitaries who bothered to show up for the 20th anniversary of the fall of the Berlin Wall on Monday night gave flat speeches that failed to resonate with the sparse crowd of tourists who braved the miserable weather for a glimpse of such luminaries as Russian President Dimitri Medvedev, French President Nicolas Sarkozy and British Prime Minister Gordon Brown on the jumbotrons set-up around Pariser Platz.

In fact, in what Kaiser Jacob referred to as "King of the world" move, the latest winner of the Nobel Peace Prize couldn't even bring himself to visit the site of one of the twentieth century's most famous peaceful revolutions. While all of the other allies were represented by heads of state or heads of government, Barack Obama sent his secretary (of state) on his behalf. Of course, President Obama couldn't bring himself to stay away from the festivities completely; instead of attending in person, he sent a video-gram of himself sitting in a nicely upholstered chair in a cozy room somewhere in the West Wing. The rest of the world's leaders had to content themselves with the warmth of the crowd on a raw and rainy Berlin night.


What was billed as a "Festival of Freedom" turned into more of a celebration of how little anyone even cares about the freedoms gained by Eastern Europeans after the fall of the iron curtain. In fact, only Dr. Angela Merkel, who grew up in East German Mecklenburg and rose through the ranks of the CDU after German reunification was able to make a believable claim to having been moved by the events of November 9, 1989. The contrast between Angie's speech and the lackluster contributions of Brown, Clinton, Sarko, and Medvedev hinted at what was really missing from this Festival: the words and thoughts of people who made the wall fall and whose lives changed forever in November 1989.

Sure, Thomas Gottschalk conducted interviews with two East German dissidents, and Lech Walesa was recruited to knock over a small branch of the chain of 7 foot tall dominoes that stretched from the Spree to Potsdamer Platz, but not even Gorbi himself was allowed to give a speech at the Brandenburg Gate.

Instead, the allies got a chance to pat themselves on the back one last time, and Bon Jovi made a musical contribution to the utter emptiness of the "Festival of Freedom."

Oh, and did I mention that it was cold and wet?

November 9.

November 9 is an extremely important date throughout history:

1620 - Pilgrims aboard the Mayflower spot land on Cape Cod, Massachusetts
1906 - Theodore Roosevelt is the first sitting president of the US to take a trip out of the country
1921 - Albert Einstein is awarded the Nobel Prize in Physics
1938 - Kristallnacht begins, the first large-scale act of anti-Jewish violence in Germany
1989 - Fall of the Berlin Wall

November 9 is also the birth date of Benjamin Banneker, Carl Sagan, Tom Fogerty, Sisqo, and my husband.

Yes, today is my husband's birthday. We already celebrated this morning with presents and a nice little breakfast. Later, Susann (our friend that we're staying with in Berlin) and I are meeting Steve for lunch at his favorite Berlin pizza spot and surprising him with a homemade German-style marble (Marmor) cake.

And lastly, tonight we are going to the Brandenburg Gate to celebrate Steve's birthday and, along with millions, the 20th anniversary of the fall of the Berlin Wall:

Bösebrücke
(The first border crossing site to open on November 9, 1989.)

Berliner Mauer

(A small part of the Berlin Wall that still remains standing at Bösebrücke)

Mauer is the buzz word this week and Berlin has been gearing up for this event for months: http://www.mauerfall09.de/. Angela Merkel (Chancellor of Germany), Nicolas Sarkozy (President of France), Dmitry Medvedev (President of Russia), Gordon Brown (Prime Minister of the United Kingdom), and Hillary Clinton (Secretary of State) will all be in attendance.

Bon Jovi is going to sing "We Weren't Born to Follow."

And to top it off, 1000 life-size "dominos" are being knocked over along a small part of the path where the Berlin Wall once stood - from Potsdamer Plotz to the Brandenburg Gate:

"Dominos"
(Set-up on Saturday, November 7)


Steve und Ich
(Checking out the scene at Potsdamer Platz)

We will report back to you after tonight. In the meantime, you should wish Steve a happy birthday. ;)

Or, on a more somber note, you can read this article from BBC that highlights walls and barriers around the world which are still standing or have been erected since 1989: http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/in_depth/world/2009/walls_around_the_world/default.stm. Glad to see that we're making so much progress...

Castles and Cultural Differences

Thankfully, (besides the freakishly-hellish week of daily sleet storms) the Fall here has been glorious! The leaves are still gorgeous shades of red and yellow and most days, the sun has been coming out to play:

Englischer Garten
(Take One)


Englischer Garten
(Take Two)

To take advantage of Fall and do something on Halloween (because Germans don't really celebrate the holiday), a big group of us from my sprachschule and Steve's environmental studies center ventured to Neuschwanstein this past weekend. Neuschwanstein is the castle Walt Disney used to design the outside of the Magic Kingdom:

Neuschwanstein
(Need I say more?)

Built by Konig Ludwig (King of Bavaria) in the late 1800's, this castle did not serve a purpose at the time of its construction. Because of its extravaganze and because it was the third of three extremely expensive castles commissioned by King Ludwig, his kingdom became bankrupt and therefore very upset. In the middle Neuschwanstein's construction, King Ludwig was declared mentally ill (without a proper medical examination) and hence, not fit to rule his kingdom. One day later, King Ludwig and his psychologist were found dead in a lake under mysterious circumstances.

Six weeks after Konig Ludwig's death, Neuschwanstein (still unfinished - to this day) was opened as a tourist attraction.

Our trip to Neuschwanstein ended up being quite the challenge: six Americans, two Italians, and two Spaniards - all with different travel and life philosophies.

Seven of the Ten of Us
(Back Row: Steve, James, Jamie, Alessia, Marta, Angelo; Front Row: Guillermo)

The Americans of our group (including me) were very worried about time. (Shocking!) See, at Neuschwanstein you buy your tickets at the bottom of a big foothill. When you buy your tickets you are given a tour time. To get from the ticket office to Neuschwanstein, you have to ride a bus or horse-and-buggy or walk up the mountain:

Guillermo and Horse-and-Buggy
(We decided to be hard core instead of lazy.)

The time was 12:25pm and our castle tour commenced at 1:40pm. Just enough time to grab a bratwurst and hike uphill 40 minutes to the castle entrance. However, at 12:50pm the Spaniards and Italians were just wandering over to the brat-stand as we Americans were downing the last of our french fries.

"We'll meet you at the top," we said.

Lo and behold! Just as we started admiring the view over the edge of the mountain just outside the castle gates, Guillermo and then Marta, our Spanish buddies, came bounding up behind us, "Hi guys!" And, I soon found out that the Spanish mentality is: hurry-up and stop...and then hurry up some more. (Which, you will understand very shortly.)

About 10 minutes later and approximately 30 seconds before the start of our tour, Angelo and Alessia joined us. Demonstrating the Italian mentality(ies): all is good/everything will workout how it's supposed to/slow and steady wins the race. Or in the wise words of Angelo, "if you miss one train, you can always take the next one."

However, Angelo and Guillermo decided that 30 seconds was enough time to smoke before going inside for the tour....AND, they almost missed the tour. We had to ask the tour guide to grab them from outside. They're lucky that we had a nice tour guide!

So, besides being a beautiful day, going to Neuschwanstein was a bit stressful and the experience provided a little culture schock. It was definitely a learning experience in more than the historical sense; yet, I can only hope that I absorb some of each of the cultural philosophies of my new friends.