Sunday, March 27, 2011

T-79

It's a beautiful, sunny Sunday in northern Germany (no, that is not a joke), so I decided to be productive and finally put up a blog. In fact, it has been sunny for SIX of the last SEVEN days, a feat that surely hasn't been accomplished for many long, dreary years here in the 'Burg, and quite frankly I'm shocked. But you don't see me complaining, eh? Everybody in beautiful CNY is enjoying snow and less than freezing temperatures while I dare to venture out in a light spring jacket and aviators... ahh, the good life of the exchange student.
I've always hated New York winters and I'm fairly convinced that you won't find worse ones unless you mistakenly wander into the Arctic circle, or perhaps Siberia, and my theory is proving stronger every winter that I pass in other, more northern climates-which has only been one so far, but hey, northern Germ' is nothing to scoff at- and then people want to know why I decided to go to Virginia for school.

My dear father, an extremely competent and intelligent man, had the right idea and decided to take a nice reprieve from a few meters of the fluffy white stuff and came to visit me in January. It really has been a long time since I posted! Anyways, I will start the recap of these last 2/3 months with our epic European journey.

Soo. We started off flying from Hamburg to London. The idea of London has always appealed to me. I think that started around the time I started thinking that British accents were sexy, and when I saw the Amanda Bynes movie "What a Girl Wants," in which she flies to London in search of her long lost father (who ends up living in a palace) and ends up meeting a sexy British guy with said sexy British accent. In the end, we stayed in a nice hotel, not a palace, and I met no sexy British guy with a sexy British accent, and unfortunately I didn't get a chance to ride on the back of his motorcycle and we didn't fall in sexy British love, but in spite of all of that, we had a really fantastic time in London. Armed with our Oyster Cards, we cruised the London metro (thanks to my now amazing public transportation skills) and visited all the must-sees. My dad's favorite was the Tower of London: "the most feared spot in the world for 900 years," right dad?! ;) If any of you are curious about the Tower, please contact my father, his name is Gary, and he will be more than willing to explain in detail that what you would like to know. We saw Parliament, the Big Ben, the London Bridge (fun fact of the day: that bridge burned [hence "London bridge is falling down..." right? eh?] and the one I thought was cool was actually a whole different one, the Tower Bridge, which is super cool all lit up at night), Trafalgar Square, Buckingham Palace and the Changing of the Guard, South Bank, a ride on the London Eye, Westminster Abbey, the Borough Market and my personal favorite, and which I therefore recommend to any aspiring London visitor, the Tate Museum.

...just so you don't waste your time, that last bit was complete sarcasm. Don't go.

We stayed in Victoria, right next to the Victoria station-which is really a sight all in itself- right next to WICKED! Ah, Wicked...

So the background to this little bit here goes back to my previous short term exchange to Spain. That was almost three years ago now, which is freaky...I was at a 40th birthday party today and I was like, 'scheisse, I'm almost twenty, which means I'm almost thirty, and then..oh man..this is going to be my birthday party...' but I'm rambling. In Spain I met someone with the name -surprise, surprise- Jesús, who ended up being one of my best friends there. Anyways, Jesús has quite the voice and is, in fact, studying theater in London. We spent a day with him. The point is that Jesús has been telling me for yearsssss now "Sieeerraaaa, you haahhve to go see WICKED! It's ahhmaazing" (although he's Spanish he speaks perfect British English). He's seen it not once, not twice, not five times, but NINE times- and that was the last I heard. It might be more now. So, since we were right next to the WICKED! theater, we went to see it; and that, my friends, was probably the best decision we made the whole trip. The play was AHHHMAAZZZINGG indeed. I now understand the years of nagging that Jesús put me through. If you ever go to London, please, do yourself the favor of seeing that play. We saw Stomp too, which was just as good in its own way. Of course, we had a few rounds of fish n' chips, because you can't go to England and not eat fish n' chips. What you can avoid, though, are "mushy peas." These are regularly served with fish n' chips so we ordered them as a side one day. I don't know what I really expected, but mushy peas are literally just mushy peas: overcooked and smushed together. Yuuuummmm...not.

I could go on and on about London, but I must move on. Before I do, though, I have a very important update about the Bus Driver Nod.

We flew RyanAir from Hamburg to London which means that the airport was slightly outside of the city, and we had to take a bus into the center. So we're in this coach bus which was operated by some company-I can't remember the name- driving down a six lane highway (on the left side, weird) and, believe it or not, I see the bus driver throw the nod/hand wave to the driver of another bus of the same company going back in the direction of the airport. I was amazed. Who knew that this Bus Driver Nod was such a worldwide thing? Not I, that is for sure. This repeated another good three or four times, proving that it wasn't just a random occurrence.
WAIT! Because, if that isn't crazy enough, I have more.
I was back in Germany a few weeks later and sitting in the very front of a train. The little, what do you call it, cabin? for the train operator is closed off and tinted, but, lift your jaw off the floor, it was sunny yet again, and I could see the back of the driver through the tint. And I bet you can guess what happened: we passed another train, and yes, they did the Nod. Therefore, I can no longer call this the Bus Driver Nod. I must rename it, so hence, from this moment on, I will refer to it as the Public Transportation Operator Nod.


Jesús and I


Dad and I chillin' outside our palace


Dad in front of the Apollo

From London we flew down to the Canary Islands. We started on Lanzarote, which is a rocky island with few beaches. It's best known for its volcanoes. We rented a open topped Jeep and literally went from the top to bottom of the island. The Canaries lie off the coast of Africa and have a perpetual spring climate, so for most of the time we had rather nice weather. Papagayo was my favorite beach:







Driving along one day we stopped at a little beach side town for dinner and ate at a restaurant right next to the ocean. The fish was freshly caught that day and was deeeliciouss



We went to the National Volcano Park and did a tour. The restaurant in the park uses the natural steam from the volcano to cook all of their food.



The tour was in a bus throughout the volcanoes. Lanzarote is, in the grand scheme of things, a young island, so its really barren. I just pretended we were on Mars.

From Lanzarote we went on to Fuerteventura, which was my favorite of the two: mainly because Fuereventura is all beaches :) Here we just relaxed. And we ate. Lots. At the hotel we had a private French chef named Dominique, and he was nothing less than a master in the kitchen. We quickly fell into a comfortable routine: wake up, breakfast. Sunbathe, lunch. Shower, dinner. Sleep, breakfast. Lunch. Dinner. I did make a valiant effort one day and made it to the gym. Then I went to dinner.
My dad did get in a few walks along the beach when I was in the sun. He's more the hiking type, while I'm the get-as-tan-as-possible type; hence, lounge chair. And what he reported back to me was no less than disturbing. Apparently, spread all over the beaches, were Germans. Naked Germans. And lots of them. I can contest to the fact that there were tonsss of Germans on both islands; both of our hotels were actually German, and although the Canary Islands are a part of Spain, more German is spoken than Spanish. Anyways, these Germans had no qualms about baring it all; I guess they're even more hardcore about the even tan than I am.

From Fuerteventura we headed off to Valencia, Spain, to visit our people there. Spain is like my second home and I love love loveee it. We continued our eating theme- but then again, I expect no less from the Spanish. Dad helped my host dad make the arroz one night:


And this is the finished product, along with the host fam:



What really makes me frustrated is that we get to Spain in the beginning of February and it's 70 degrees Fahrenheit and sunny. We are lucky to get that in NY in summer. The Spanish have no tolerance for anything remotely cold. They're hesitant to go outside when it's 10 degrees Celsius- 50 Fahrenheit. I, a native New Yorker, am chillin in capris and a North Face and they, wrapped up with gloves, hats, and scarfs, tell me I'm out of my mind. Just sayiin'.

Next we headed off to Cremona, Italy, to visit my host family from my short term Italy exchange. We were only there two days, which, in typical Italian fashion, were filled with food. In fact, the only pictures that I have from Italy are of pizza. Whattup

A calzone..for one


:)

A good few pounds and few weeks later, we flew back to the 'Burg and wrapped up dad's stay. The next weekend I headed off to Berlin with the exchange students for an orientation. The four hour bus ride from Hamburg to Berlin gave me a small taste of what the Eurotour is going to be like...and I can't even start to fathom. 18 days with all 50+ kids is going to be...how should I put this...quite the experience.


The Berlin Wall

After that, the main highlight was the Usher concert I attended. I waited outside for three hours before the doors opened so I could get as close as possible, and there were still a fair amount of people in front of me. However, when you've got this in front of you, it's easy to understand why thousands of people waited hours in cold weather to get in front.


Heellloooo. 2nd fun fact of the day: he's single, ladies

And now, as we come upon April, the days are getting longer (thank God) and sunnier (hopefully?). I counted and I only have 79 days left here; I actually have even less in Germany itself, due to some travelling I'll be doing. Time has flown. I know the next thing that I know, I'll be in the airport on the morning of June 14th saying goodbye, and that's even harder to comprehend than German.

Monday, January 10, 2011

THE HALFWAY MARK

I've been so busy the past month here between Christmas, New Years, the Reeperbahn...and school, of course... right soo, I ALSO moved in with my second host family, the Dedecks, who read this blog-Hallo, Thomas!- which means that I can only say nice things now... dammit...hahaha just kidding I have nothing but good things to say about my new family! I am having a fantaasticc time here!
Okay so as of this Saturday, January 14, I will have been here for 5 months and will have 5 months left :( this is very sad :'( hence the tear. It's crazziiness to think that I am halfway done, let me just say. Time is a-flyin' here in the 'Burg. At this time last year, when it had just turned to 2010, I was thinking, "This is the year I graduate!" and now I'm thinking, "This is the year I go home..wah." But I shan't dwell on the future, it's recap time peopleee

Weihnachten
Christmas here in Germany is a bit different than in the States. Probably the thing that's most different is the fact that they open presents on Christmas Eve instead of Christmas morning. The entire family gathered at our house to eat and exchange the prezzies, and eat cake, of course...lots and lots and lots of cake and cookies. And chocolate. Did I mention lots?

The tree!

Do I even have to write anything here?

Anyways, the main point that I came away with regarding Christmas presents here is WIDGESC: that is, When In Doubt, Give the Exchange Student Chocolate. I am now the proud owner of enough fine German chocolate to get me through until at least the end of the world in December 2012; and hey, if we all survive, I'll just come back for another Christmas to get more. So we ate cookies and we ate chocolate and then we ate some more cookies and some more chocolate and then we went to the Grandparents' house and ate some more cookies and some more chocolate and then hey! it was my host brother's birthday so can you guess what we did? Yes we ate some more cake and cookies and chocolate!
Now you ask yourself, do her jeans still fit her after all these cookies and cake and chocolate? This leads me into the next section.

How to Stay Fit in Germany

This is really less daunting than you would think. I have of course already mentioned McFit, aka Bros'R'Us, but there is a simple solution to the three Cs.
...
Public Transportation!!
Logically the next thought that comes to mind is, how can that possibly help? Please, let me explain.
In order for me to get to school, McFit, or the Reeperbahn, which are the 3 places I most frequent in ascending order, I must walk approximate 7 minutes to the bus stop. Then I take a five minute bus ride to the train station, and from there I can take the train to anywhere I so desire. The point that I'm trying to make is that the two connections I make provide ample opportunity to miss the coming bus/train, and hence, SPRINTSSS!!!!!
The most dispiriting things that you can experience in Germany are the sight of the bus/train arriving while you are still a good distance away and the sound of the beep that means the train doors are closing while you're still on the stairs. When this happens, your heart sinks and you busttt a** to get to the stop. I'm talking full out, qualifying for the Olympic sprints. I've run in heels, in snow, in rain, on ice, even pushed the elderly and young children out of the way to get to the arriving vehicle (okay the last part is a slight exaggeration) before the doors close. But in all seriousness, I even JUMPED a FENCE last week to catch a bus. Even I was shocked. I didn't know I could even do that. But I impressed the hell out of myself, and to be completely honest I felt really BA after that.
Anyways, this situation arises multiple times every week, and on a bad day, multiple times a day. In this way you can keep fit without even hitting the gym. Genius, really. Once Katelyn and I were in another town, Lüneburg, and the train back to Hamburg only went on the hour. We were a good half mile away when we realized we had seven minutes to get to the station. It was cold, it was icy, I had a cold, but we ran. We missed it but it was a valiant effort in any case.
Of course, this situation is never fun to be in, but it can be incredibly entertaining when you're the one safely in the bus/train watching people trip over themselves to get on. If the bus/train driver sees you running and waving your arms and is nice, they will generally wait, but there are naturally those idiots that just driiivee awaayy. I wonder if they count how many times they get flicked off as they look back in the rearview mirror...

The Island Off the Coast of Georgia.

Any New Yorker who has traveled abroad knows that there is great popularity to be achieved upon stating that you are from New York. Whenever someone asks me where I'm from and I say New York, the reaction is, without fault, "REALLLLYYYY!!! ohhh COOOLL. New York is my DREAAMMM!!" Of course the majority of people don't even know that there is such a thing as New York STATE; they only know the city and automatically assume that I live there. In fact, if somebody then asks me, "the city or state?" I give them extra points because I am impressed by their knowledge.
Now, depending on the situation, I sometimes clarify that no, I'm not from the city, I'm from the state. But this really all depends on my mood. If I want to see the adoration shining in their eyes I just don't say anything.
ANYWAYS, when Kate and I are out, we are asked frequently where we are from. Imagine: I say New York, and fireworks go off in the sky. Then she says Iowa. This is when you hear crickets, and the person has a blank look on their face. We recently got sick of the awkward silence that follows "Iowa," so we decided to do something about it.
Most people are really only familiar with the states of New York and California, and perhaps Florida and Texas, because those are the ones most featured in American television. Hence, last weekend, a rather genius idea struck me. Why not have some fun? Most people have next to no knowledge of the geography of the US. So now, when Katelyn said that she comes from Iowa, and the other person asks where that is, we tell them that it is an island off the coast of Georgia. And we're counting how many people believe it.
Originally we said that it was an island off the coast of Alaska but that's a little hard to believe, so I just thought of the random state of Georgia and we stuck it off that coast. Right now we're up to 4 people who have believed us. Our greatest coup so far has been a full grown man. Katelyn even threw in the fact that you can take a boat from Iowa to New York and he ate it right up. The hardest part of this whole thing is keeping a straight face while explaining where Iowa is situated. I was feeding the said man this story and allllmost cracked up twice but I pulled it off in the end.
Exchange students are easily entertained, and let me tell you, this gives us a great laugh.

The No Pants Subway Ride

please take a minute to watch this video:



A friend of Katelyn sent her a link that said that there would be the No Pants Subway Ride, Hamburg version, just yesterday, so naturally we went in search of it. We took the train all the way out to Sternschanze where the meeting place was supposed to be, but found nobody. We even went to the pain of following the preplanned route to the Rathaus, the final meeting place, in anticipation of a.) seeing a train of pantless people or b.) joining the train of pantless people- I really can't say for certain if we would have taken it off, we were gonna see how many people there were- but, to our great disappointment, we found nobody :( I would've been epic, though.

A closing picture: Here we have our second picture with the pole dancing grandma. This is from New Years Eve. We had already taken a picture with her a few months back, but you know what? She's awesome. If I'm 70 and pole dancing, I expect a pat on the back and somebody to take a picture with me too.