Hello Gentle Readers!
As I write this, it is Christmas Eve. Here in Germany, Christmas is celebrated on this night, and most people go to church fairly late at night. This is not unlike Italy. I sent my Italian host mom an email.
It is snowing outside, making it a white Christmas. It is so cute! I am listening to Bing Crosby, Johnny Mathis, and the Trans-Siberian Orchestra. Now I feel more in the Christmas spirit. In years past, I had more swimming, but less school, which was like my work. The past week, the kids haven't had school and I've been logging 12 hour days (or more!) Generally I have a couple hours to myself during the day. Not now. It's never felt less like a vacation ipso facto, less like Christmas.
It will feel good to go on my first week of vacation to Munich and Vienna. I'm meeting up with my good friend, Bonnie, and we will tear up Bavaria and Austria. I am so excited, not only to go on a vacation and get away, but also to hang out with friends. I use Skype and Facebook a healthy amount, but it is no substitute for real human interaction. I have a feeling that the theory of social networking doesn't actually work. How can you be friends with someone you've never met? Anyway, I will appreciate my vacation to the fullest.
So we will be celebrating the birth of Jesus today, have the older couple over tomorrow and open presents, and on the 26th, I'm going over to Gene's cousin's family. They are really nice and great! We are also having the younger missionaries over for dinner that day. The next day, I am off!
A busy weekend to be sure. :)
I'm dreaming of a white Christmas...
Friday, December 24, 2010
Thursday, December 23, 2010
The First Two Days
Gentle Readers,
I decided to go back to the beginning, and give you a glimpse of the first few days.
The first two days were gentle, because Hannah stayed home.
I woke up after 12 hours of sleeping, and read a little. Then we had breakfast. Then Hannah and I had errands to run. The third child, Matthew (name changed), had a cold, so he came with us.
We went to the bank, but they couldn't do anything until a certain document came. To foreshadow, the arrival of this document would be something that hung over me for the next month. But anyway, that day, we were told to come back with the document.
Ok, then we went to the Gemeinde, which is the local authority. I registered with them as a extended stay person. A little hiccup came when they looked at my passport. For some reason, the passport now has your first and middle name on the same line. So the lady was like " Is that your first name?" And I said, " No it's my middle name." She didn't know what a middle name was. A middle name.... maybe they don't have these in Germany? Trust me, no one ever calls me by my middle name. It isn't even really a middle name, it's a last name, which according to Hannah they can't do. It reminded me of something I read in a German culture book... "In America, everything is acceptable that isn't expressly forbidden. In Germany, everything is forbidden unless it is allowed." I mean, children are named Blanket. Anyway, I still prefer the "everything is permissible" thing. I think it is ingrained in Americans from day 1.
Then we had to go to the Auslanderbehorde. We ended up not going this day, because she wanted to organize some things. Plus, she was having a birthday party later for Carl, the littlest.
That turned out to be an exercise in restraint. For me and the children. She made a small fire in a tiny barbeque thing where we could roast sausages. She also had snacks and cake. It was nice, but the restraining part came when they (the 4 plus each had a friend over) wanted to burn their sticks. And leaves. And chestnuts. and the food. And paper. I drew the line at the paper. But there was no stopping them at the other things. It was crazy. All these little pyros in the making. She even left for a time to drop the oldest one off at a sport thingy. Their friends were nice. One was quite spirited, and he comes over to the house a lot. Another was quiet, another was like a miniature old man, and the last one laughed a lot. They were nice kids, but 8 boys is A LOT to care for. I just used a lot four times in the last three sentences. urgh.
Once they went to bed, she showed me some of her favorite books, mostly cook books and interior design. They were nice. She also explained to me the situation about the family, which I hadn't really been privy to before. Suffice to say, like I said earlier, a divorce in the works. That's enough to set the scene.
The next day, I got up and took #3 (Matthew- name changed) to the bus stop and we made it (barely). It isn't far. But he is pretty slow moving in the morning. This has only increased as the weather has gotten colder. The two older ones walk themselves to school, as it is only a stone's throw away. Literally, It would take me 45 seconds. If I walked slowly.
The youngest, Carl, had an appt this day, so Hannah took him there and then we went to the Auslanderbehorde later. There we met a Russian man, who helped us fill out the forms and then took them to be processed. This was the time when I had to decide for sure how long I wanted to stay in Germany. But I was firm. 6 months. After April, I have plans and I plan to see them through. At this point, Hannah was still trying to convince me otherwise. It wasn't until a later Skype date with one of my friends that she realized I meant business and I wasn't changing on this.
On our way back, she told me more about her wants in life, saying that she always wanted to be a stay-at-home mom. I'm sure plenty of women (and men, too, let's be realistic) would love to not have to work. 4 kids is no cake-walk, but the stress is different than having a job. Combine the stresses of both, and sometimes I wonder where feminism has gotten us: a larger plate and less time to eat it? Anyway, the countryside on the way back was beautiful and the document I would need for the bank would come soon enough.
That night, I was very hungry for dinner and we had watched the Flintstones which is Die Familie Feuerstein in German. hahaa it's great. The 3rd, Matthew, really likes it. It was on this day that I met an older missionary couple from Vista (!!) How coincidental. I was a bit wary at first, but they are very nice, down to earth, and easy going. Before we ate we prayed. This is a nightly occurrence. It's not like when say Grace in my household, however. We say the Catholic grace: scripted and to the point. With these prayers, the person thanks God for the meal, the day, our health, etc, etc, It's scarcely over a minute, but when the steaming hot, delicious food is in front of you, it seems like forever. Sometimes Carl, who wants to do the prayer, will try to talk over the person praying, or start hitting someone. So the prayers are never as solemn as I think they should be.
Later I was to learn that she doesn't just pray before dinner. She prays at breakfast, before the kids go off to school, before going to sleep, before lunch. I never knew people prayed this much! She also fasts quite often, which is supposedly a harbinger of a particular prayer being granted. So it causes the prayer to be answered, or something. According to one of my friends, it is normal to fast once a month, but Hannah fasts nearly every week. I don't think this is healthy. It is only my opinion, of course, but I don't think God wants us not to eat. My mom says it is to be thankful or mindful, but I could never adhere to this type of thinking. Shouldn't we be well nourished, so we can help other people? I'm getting off track and this discussion is for another time. But my point is, that Hannah is quite strict in her beliefs.
It was on this Tuesday that I met the old au pair's best friend in Germany. It was from her that I got an insight into the situation I hadn't had before. Apparently, the old au pair was a co-religionist (isn't that the craziest word?) of Hannah. This led to some tension between the two. As the girl before me was more liberal than Hannah. This friend also told me that Hannah is quite set in her ways, which is something I soon realized. The friend confirmed a suspicion that had been brewing in my mind: that the old au pair had left in not the happiest of terms with Hannah. This had been made clear to me by Hannah, who kept comparing me to the old au pair, talking about how I would be better because of x, y, and z. It made me so uncomfortable, because it made me wonder what they would say about me behind my back when *I* left. I also wasn't used to be compared to someone. In my family, they never openly compared us, which is something about which I am really grateful. Being the first is never easy, but at least being the 2nd, or 3rd wasn't awful in my family. Now I felt like I had a screw-up older sister, and I was the one who was supposed to go far. All these expectations were unnerving. I mean, I'm not perfect!
The friend's insight told me more than the old au pair had told me herself, which was that she had never been truly accepted by the family. I also had the feeling that the Germans harbored resentment towards her, whereas she had nothing but good feelings for the boys. It would certainly make a reunion awkward.
One last tidbit: When I told Hannah I only wanted two kids, she said maybe I'd have seven. SEVEN?!?! Not on your life. I'd divorce my husband first.
I decided to go back to the beginning, and give you a glimpse of the first few days.
The first two days were gentle, because Hannah stayed home.
I woke up after 12 hours of sleeping, and read a little. Then we had breakfast. Then Hannah and I had errands to run. The third child, Matthew (name changed), had a cold, so he came with us.
We went to the bank, but they couldn't do anything until a certain document came. To foreshadow, the arrival of this document would be something that hung over me for the next month. But anyway, that day, we were told to come back with the document.
Ok, then we went to the Gemeinde, which is the local authority. I registered with them as a extended stay person. A little hiccup came when they looked at my passport. For some reason, the passport now has your first and middle name on the same line. So the lady was like " Is that your first name?" And I said, " No it's my middle name." She didn't know what a middle name was. A middle name.... maybe they don't have these in Germany? Trust me, no one ever calls me by my middle name. It isn't even really a middle name, it's a last name, which according to Hannah they can't do. It reminded me of something I read in a German culture book... "In America, everything is acceptable that isn't expressly forbidden. In Germany, everything is forbidden unless it is allowed." I mean, children are named Blanket. Anyway, I still prefer the "everything is permissible" thing. I think it is ingrained in Americans from day 1.
Then we had to go to the Auslanderbehorde. We ended up not going this day, because she wanted to organize some things. Plus, she was having a birthday party later for Carl, the littlest.
That turned out to be an exercise in restraint. For me and the children. She made a small fire in a tiny barbeque thing where we could roast sausages. She also had snacks and cake. It was nice, but the restraining part came when they (the 4 plus each had a friend over) wanted to burn their sticks. And leaves. And chestnuts. and the food. And paper. I drew the line at the paper. But there was no stopping them at the other things. It was crazy. All these little pyros in the making. She even left for a time to drop the oldest one off at a sport thingy. Their friends were nice. One was quite spirited, and he comes over to the house a lot. Another was quiet, another was like a miniature old man, and the last one laughed a lot. They were nice kids, but 8 boys is A LOT to care for. I just used a lot four times in the last three sentences. urgh.
Once they went to bed, she showed me some of her favorite books, mostly cook books and interior design. They were nice. She also explained to me the situation about the family, which I hadn't really been privy to before. Suffice to say, like I said earlier, a divorce in the works. That's enough to set the scene.
The next day, I got up and took #3 (Matthew- name changed) to the bus stop and we made it (barely). It isn't far. But he is pretty slow moving in the morning. This has only increased as the weather has gotten colder. The two older ones walk themselves to school, as it is only a stone's throw away. Literally, It would take me 45 seconds. If I walked slowly.
The youngest, Carl, had an appt this day, so Hannah took him there and then we went to the Auslanderbehorde later. There we met a Russian man, who helped us fill out the forms and then took them to be processed. This was the time when I had to decide for sure how long I wanted to stay in Germany. But I was firm. 6 months. After April, I have plans and I plan to see them through. At this point, Hannah was still trying to convince me otherwise. It wasn't until a later Skype date with one of my friends that she realized I meant business and I wasn't changing on this.
On our way back, she told me more about her wants in life, saying that she always wanted to be a stay-at-home mom. I'm sure plenty of women (and men, too, let's be realistic) would love to not have to work. 4 kids is no cake-walk, but the stress is different than having a job. Combine the stresses of both, and sometimes I wonder where feminism has gotten us: a larger plate and less time to eat it? Anyway, the countryside on the way back was beautiful and the document I would need for the bank would come soon enough.
That night, I was very hungry for dinner and we had watched the Flintstones which is Die Familie Feuerstein in German. hahaa it's great. The 3rd, Matthew, really likes it. It was on this day that I met an older missionary couple from Vista (!!) How coincidental. I was a bit wary at first, but they are very nice, down to earth, and easy going. Before we ate we prayed. This is a nightly occurrence. It's not like when say Grace in my household, however. We say the Catholic grace: scripted and to the point. With these prayers, the person thanks God for the meal, the day, our health, etc, etc, It's scarcely over a minute, but when the steaming hot, delicious food is in front of you, it seems like forever. Sometimes Carl, who wants to do the prayer, will try to talk over the person praying, or start hitting someone. So the prayers are never as solemn as I think they should be.
Later I was to learn that she doesn't just pray before dinner. She prays at breakfast, before the kids go off to school, before going to sleep, before lunch. I never knew people prayed this much! She also fasts quite often, which is supposedly a harbinger of a particular prayer being granted. So it causes the prayer to be answered, or something. According to one of my friends, it is normal to fast once a month, but Hannah fasts nearly every week. I don't think this is healthy. It is only my opinion, of course, but I don't think God wants us not to eat. My mom says it is to be thankful or mindful, but I could never adhere to this type of thinking. Shouldn't we be well nourished, so we can help other people? I'm getting off track and this discussion is for another time. But my point is, that Hannah is quite strict in her beliefs.
It was on this Tuesday that I met the old au pair's best friend in Germany. It was from her that I got an insight into the situation I hadn't had before. Apparently, the old au pair was a co-religionist (isn't that the craziest word?) of Hannah. This led to some tension between the two. As the girl before me was more liberal than Hannah. This friend also told me that Hannah is quite set in her ways, which is something I soon realized. The friend confirmed a suspicion that had been brewing in my mind: that the old au pair had left in not the happiest of terms with Hannah. This had been made clear to me by Hannah, who kept comparing me to the old au pair, talking about how I would be better because of x, y, and z. It made me so uncomfortable, because it made me wonder what they would say about me behind my back when *I* left. I also wasn't used to be compared to someone. In my family, they never openly compared us, which is something about which I am really grateful. Being the first is never easy, but at least being the 2nd, or 3rd wasn't awful in my family. Now I felt like I had a screw-up older sister, and I was the one who was supposed to go far. All these expectations were unnerving. I mean, I'm not perfect!
The friend's insight told me more than the old au pair had told me herself, which was that she had never been truly accepted by the family. I also had the feeling that the Germans harbored resentment towards her, whereas she had nothing but good feelings for the boys. It would certainly make a reunion awkward.
One last tidbit: When I told Hannah I only wanted two kids, she said maybe I'd have seven. SEVEN?!?! Not on your life. I'd divorce my husband first.
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Communication
There are sometimes when I feel like I am not communicating with Hannah (name changed). It's happened a few times, and I feel very frustrated by the outcome. It is almost as if I am being forced into a script, like I am supposed to say a particular thing. This is different from when she asks for my opinion. I give her my opinion only sometimes, because I feel like she won't really listen to it. I know they say advice is freely given, and freely taken; but if someone asks for your opinion all the time, and never takes it... well that gets hard on your ego. Mostly I think she just wants me to agree with her opinion.
The Disagreement
Her: You like this [enter food here], don't you?
Me: No, I don't.
Her: But you've eaten it. I've made it before.
{Here is a simple lesson in logic. When it rains, the grass is wet. If the grass is wet, does that mean it rained? No. Just because I ate it didn't mean I liked it. I ate it because I was hungry. Rather than go hungry, I ate something I'd rather not like. You've never seen me bitter until you've seen me hungry. It's just scary. We don't go there.}
I shrug noncommittally.
Me: Get some if you want.
Her: It's very healthy. But you don't like the healthy kind, do you?* I never knew you were so unhealthy. (Pause.) Do you think you'll like this kind better by the time you go back?
Me: I doubt it.
By this point * I am wondering why we are even having this conversation. I mean, there is seriously no point. If you'd like to buy it, do. If you don't, let it go. I've told her my feelings... and yet, she starts in on how 'unhealthy' I am. I have already checked out of this interchange. But it feels like she's willing me to agree with her, and tell her what she wants to hear, but she knows when I gave her a fake answer. It's like trying to fight off pepper spray, futile and annoying.
The Opinion.
[There is background to this story that I can't give, but imagine in your head a bitterly divorced couple. Got that? Ok you're ready.]
Her: I don't think I should take them to see him. I mean, do you? Just because he is sick. One time I was sick...
Me: Can you just drop them off?
Her: No, I have to be there. An adult needs to be present.
Me: Oh.
Her: See what I mean? I don't want to do it. It's always something with him. I'm not gonna take them, would you?
{Well, this is tricky. Because the last time I had kids, a husband, and a divorce, was.... oh yeah, never. I have no experience even close to this one. Crummy boyfriends? Those I can handle. Annoying siblings? I've been there. Divorcee squabbles? Nope. But in my true opinion, I think she should get off the high horse, grin and bear it. It's Christmas. Just do it. In fact, I'd like to say this: Don't be an ***wipe. Take them to see their father. It's Christmas, for God's sake. But instead, I say
Me: No. Not if you don't want to.
Because how would she really react? By talking about it more, pretending to consider, then getting all stressed when she's not sure what she should do, then coming to me, giving me both my opinion and hers and asking which one is better (mine, because I told you about it. duh). And I'd really like to avoid all that verbal diarrhea.
To recap, that's how the two exchanges are different. But, in a way, similar. With both, I feel like I could be Kelly Ripa, sunshiney and bright, and it would not matter in the slightest. The outcome would still be the same.
So I say what she wants to hear. But it's hard to convince someone to do something they already want to do when you think it is a bad idea. I'm clearly a sounding board, but to what purpose? I don't give two figs what she does with her children and their father. If it were me, I'd do it because Christmas is important. But that's me. If she wants to do something else completely, then she should do it.
Without asking my opinion.
The Disagreement
Her: You like this [enter food here], don't you?
Me: No, I don't.
Her: But you've eaten it. I've made it before.
{Here is a simple lesson in logic. When it rains, the grass is wet. If the grass is wet, does that mean it rained? No. Just because I ate it didn't mean I liked it. I ate it because I was hungry. Rather than go hungry, I ate something I'd rather not like. You've never seen me bitter until you've seen me hungry. It's just scary. We don't go there.}
I shrug noncommittally.
Me: Get some if you want.
Her: It's very healthy. But you don't like the healthy kind, do you?* I never knew you were so unhealthy. (Pause.) Do you think you'll like this kind better by the time you go back?
Me: I doubt it.
By this point * I am wondering why we are even having this conversation. I mean, there is seriously no point. If you'd like to buy it, do. If you don't, let it go. I've told her my feelings... and yet, she starts in on how 'unhealthy' I am. I have already checked out of this interchange. But it feels like she's willing me to agree with her, and tell her what she wants to hear, but she knows when I gave her a fake answer. It's like trying to fight off pepper spray, futile and annoying.
The Opinion.
[There is background to this story that I can't give, but imagine in your head a bitterly divorced couple. Got that? Ok you're ready.]
Her: I don't think I should take them to see him. I mean, do you? Just because he is sick. One time I was sick...
Me: Can you just drop them off?
Her: No, I have to be there. An adult needs to be present.
Me: Oh.
Her: See what I mean? I don't want to do it. It's always something with him. I'm not gonna take them, would you?
{Well, this is tricky. Because the last time I had kids, a husband, and a divorce, was.... oh yeah, never. I have no experience even close to this one. Crummy boyfriends? Those I can handle. Annoying siblings? I've been there. Divorcee squabbles? Nope. But in my true opinion, I think she should get off the high horse, grin and bear it. It's Christmas. Just do it. In fact, I'd like to say this: Don't be an ***wipe. Take them to see their father. It's Christmas, for God's sake. But instead, I say
Me: No. Not if you don't want to.
Because how would she really react? By talking about it more, pretending to consider, then getting all stressed when she's not sure what she should do, then coming to me, giving me both my opinion and hers and asking which one is better (mine, because I told you about it. duh). And I'd really like to avoid all that verbal diarrhea.
To recap, that's how the two exchanges are different. But, in a way, similar. With both, I feel like I could be Kelly Ripa, sunshiney and bright, and it would not matter in the slightest. The outcome would still be the same.
So I say what she wants to hear. But it's hard to convince someone to do something they already want to do when you think it is a bad idea. I'm clearly a sounding board, but to what purpose? I don't give two figs what she does with her children and their father. If it were me, I'd do it because Christmas is important. But that's me. If she wants to do something else completely, then she should do it.
Without asking my opinion.
Santa Claus
So we get to talking a few days ago, the kids and I about der Weihnachtsmann, or Santa Claus...
#4: Then there are presents on the 25th.
Me: Ohhhh. From Santa?
[here I wink at the older kids, to let them in on the joke.]
#3: There is no Santa Claus.
This, coming from a six year old, was very disturbing.
Me: What? Noooo.... Right?
#1: No. it's just Mom.
#3: Yeah. There is only one Santa Claus. He is in Greenland. But he doesn't go to other countries. Just Greenland. Not in the US, or in Germany either.
Me: Really?
#1: Yeah, How could he go everywhere in the world at once?
Me: Ummm
#4: Mom gives us presents on the 25th.
#3: Right!
[Nods all around]
Ok then.... guess the magical wonder is gone. But if anyone tells you the "all the houses in one night" line, you can always tell them, it isn't night everywhere at once. He STARTS in Australia and China and heads west, OBVIOUSLY. And his reindeer are magic. Consider them the Concords of large migrating land mammals. What are oxens and horses compared to REINDEER? Nothing. Cleaaarly.
And in case you were wondering... the word reindeer comes from Old Norse. Reindeer c.1400, from O.N. hreindyri "reindeer," from dyr "animal" (see deer) + hreinn, the usual name for the animal, from P.Gmc. *khrainaz (cf. O.E. hran "reindeer," Ger. Renn). Probably cognate with Gk. krios "ram," but folk-etymology associates it with rennen "to run."
Yes, I like to read the dictionary for fun.
And Santa does exist, damnit.
#4: Then there are presents on the 25th.
Me: Ohhhh. From Santa?
[here I wink at the older kids, to let them in on the joke.]
#3: There is no Santa Claus.
This, coming from a six year old, was very disturbing.
Me: What? Noooo.... Right?
#1: No. it's just Mom.
#3: Yeah. There is only one Santa Claus. He is in Greenland. But he doesn't go to other countries. Just Greenland. Not in the US, or in Germany either.
Me: Really?
#1: Yeah, How could he go everywhere in the world at once?
Me: Ummm
#4: Mom gives us presents on the 25th.
#3: Right!
[Nods all around]
Ok then.... guess the magical wonder is gone. But if anyone tells you the "all the houses in one night" line, you can always tell them, it isn't night everywhere at once. He STARTS in Australia and China and heads west, OBVIOUSLY. And his reindeer are magic. Consider them the Concords of large migrating land mammals. What are oxens and horses compared to REINDEER? Nothing. Cleaaarly.
And in case you were wondering... the word reindeer comes from Old Norse. Reindeer c.1400, from O.N. hreindyri "reindeer," from dyr "animal" (see deer) + hreinn, the usual name for the animal, from P.Gmc. *khrainaz (cf. O.E. hran "reindeer," Ger. Renn). Probably cognate with Gk. krios "ram," but folk-etymology associates it with rennen "to run."
Yes, I like to read the dictionary for fun.
And Santa does exist, damnit.
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Photos: October 2010
The friendly neighborhood butcher..
A truly kitsch yard, complete with garden gnomes, geese, and... flamingos?
St. Markus, the Catholic Church of the village.
A cool sunset
It's Fall!
The playground.
A barn...
A zombie.
So formal for a zombie!
Pumpkin!
The second oldest,
Pumpkin still green
Trees and horses.
My new cat friend!
So pretty!
Hillside, with the leaves turning.
yellow on black
Grapes in Germany?
Another cat!
Asleep at kindergarten!
A field
The Kinzig River
Frankfurt airport. I liked the snowballs.
Air India's interior decor.
Chicago's O'Hare Airport.
Saturday, December 18, 2010
Snow
In honor of all the snow on the ground (which all the natives tell me is quite early for this time of year), I have decided to comprise a list of all the things I did and did not know about snow. Brace yourselves.
Things I did know:
* it is cold
* you can ski on it
* it is white
* you can build snowmen
* you can have snowball fights
*Beware the yellow snow
Things I did NOT know:
* Snowflakes are actually quite small
* It is LOUD when it slides off of buildings in big clumps
* There is such thing as too little snow to sled on
* A blizzard would actually be quite dangerous, because EVERYTHING would be white
* Snow can sometimes fall, but not stick... for an hour or so
* Snow can get dirty quite quickly... then it just looks like mud
* Snow sparkles when it falls
* It also sparkles when it lays on the ground
* It does, in fact, ACTUALLY look like you are in a snow globe.... fascinating
* It wreaks havoc on drivers attempting to go uphill, particularly on a one way street
* It turns into blocks of hard, hard ice
* It hurts when it goes into your eye
* But it tastes good
* You can not wear rain boots in the snow, because the rubber seems to conduct cold rather than heat, leaving your toes freezing and possibly up for frostbite
* Cats like to play in snow
* And people still walk their dogs in the snow, but put doggy jackets on them!
All of this leads me up to my point, which is this: snow is best enjoyed inside, possibly by the fire, maybe even viewed on television, with the exception of an occasional sleigh ride.
Which means that from now on, I'd like to live at the 40th parallel N or south of it, or the 40th parallel S and north of it... and nowhere higher than 5,000 ft in altitude. Thus avoiding living in snow... Perhaps we should include coastlines as well?
Don't get me wrong, it's great to look at. As far as precipitation goes, it pretty fun to watch, just like rain. But going out in it? Dressing for it? Shoveling it? Starting, driving, and otherwise maneuvering your car in it? Forget it. It's such a hassle.... and did I mention COLD?
Things I did know:
* it is cold
* you can ski on it
* it is white
* you can build snowmen
* you can have snowball fights
*Beware the yellow snow
Things I did NOT know:
* Snowflakes are actually quite small
* It is LOUD when it slides off of buildings in big clumps
* There is such thing as too little snow to sled on
* A blizzard would actually be quite dangerous, because EVERYTHING would be white
* Snow can sometimes fall, but not stick... for an hour or so
* Snow can get dirty quite quickly... then it just looks like mud
* Snow sparkles when it falls
* It also sparkles when it lays on the ground
* It does, in fact, ACTUALLY look like you are in a snow globe.... fascinating
* It wreaks havoc on drivers attempting to go uphill, particularly on a one way street
* It turns into blocks of hard, hard ice
* It hurts when it goes into your eye
* But it tastes good
* You can not wear rain boots in the snow, because the rubber seems to conduct cold rather than heat, leaving your toes freezing and possibly up for frostbite
* Cats like to play in snow
* And people still walk their dogs in the snow, but put doggy jackets on them!
All of this leads me up to my point, which is this: snow is best enjoyed inside, possibly by the fire, maybe even viewed on television, with the exception of an occasional sleigh ride.
Which means that from now on, I'd like to live at the 40th parallel N or south of it, or the 40th parallel S and north of it... and nowhere higher than 5,000 ft in altitude. Thus avoiding living in snow... Perhaps we should include coastlines as well?
Don't get me wrong, it's great to look at. As far as precipitation goes, it pretty fun to watch, just like rain. But going out in it? Dressing for it? Shoveling it? Starting, driving, and otherwise maneuvering your car in it? Forget it. It's such a hassle.... and did I mention COLD?
Sunday, December 12, 2010
The Flight
Hi All! This post documents the flight, so it's circa Oct 23-24th. Enjoy!
The Flight
San Diego---> Chicago ---> Frankfurt
Total Flight Time: 16 hr
Local Time departing 6:18 am
Local Time arriving 7:30 am (the next day)
I suppose I should start with my flight. I spent the night before packing, cleaning, and voting. Which meant I didn’t sleep very much. I was hoping that this would encourage my body to succumb to the time change more easily…
Anyway, at 4:30, mom and I got up to drive to the airport. It was on the way that I remember thinking (and asking) “What am I doing? Moving to Germany for 6 months to be an au pair?” I’ve never done anything so impulsive in my life!! There were a surprising number of people there and EVERYONE it seemed, was flying to Chicago. The attendant who checked me in asked if I had a return ticket. I said no I was going to be working. She asked if I had a work visa. No, not yet. “Well if the German Customs sees that you don’t have a work visa or a return flight, they make may you buy a flight 3 months after your arrival and you will be responsible for the costs incurred.” K, thanks. Bye to you, too.
Now I had that to worry about. But I tried not to. If you think hard enough about something, sometimes it happens, even if you don’t want it to. So I focused on not thinking about it. But when I couldn’t stop myself, I made a convincing dialogue that I could follow. I hoped I wouldn’t need it.
The flight to Chicago was pretty uneventful. I was in the middle seat, but it wasn’t so bad. I was excited to be in Chicago, even if it was only for a few hours, and even if it was only in the airport… That counts, right? Right?!
The airport was huge. I had no idea how to navigate around. Apparently there are 4 terminals… numbered 1, 2, 3, and 5. 5 is for international flights and I was in 2. So I took the airport shuttle to 5. There I walked around looking for Air India. Yup, Air India. Apparently Chicago is one of the few airports they fly out of and it goes to Frankfurt, then Mumbai and Hyderabad. When I found Air India, I was required to show my passport and itinerary before I got in line. The security was a little over the top.
Once it was ascertained that my luggage had already been checked, I was allowed to go in a line of about 2 people, with hand luggage. This was a relief, because the people with checked luggage comprised of a line about 40 people long. I kid you not. And it was not, like in San Diego, a guy with a buzz cut and 2 bags flying to boot camp. Every group had at least three people. Families had a youngish couple, an older woman (and sometimes a man too) and a couple of young toddlers. All of them. And not a single one had just one bag or even two. Indians do not pack light. I saw 4 bags on average. And some people had handwritten their address… I guess in case it had to be shipped. From what I saw, I guess that each family’s luggage contained their entire wardrobe… for 4 months. It was ridiculous. I think I’ve seen people pack for 3 months abroad with less luggage.
Once I got checked in, I went in search of food. Unfortunately, in terminal 5, the food court is outside the security… so you can’t take it in. What sense does this make? None. So I grabbed some McDonald’s and ate quickly. Once in line, (which had grown substantially), I met a couple who was going off to Mexico (jealous!) and there were some Germans in front of me going to Frankfurt. Besides those Germans, I believe I was the only white person. Every one else was continuing onto Hyderabad, etc.
Once through security, I got myself some snacks for the trip. I then had to check in… again with a flight attendant at the gate. It might have been easier to just drive to Boston, board a ship and get to Germany that way. Just sayin’. They said they were boarding an hour before my flight departure! This seemed like a lot of time to me. Generally, you start boarding 20 to 30 minutes before a flight… But then I realized why. All those Indian grandmas I saw earlier, remember them? Yeah they all rolled up in wheelchairs. All of them. I don’t know why all these elderly Indian women have trouble walking… maybe it was something in their diet or too much hard labor, but it was unreal. And the strollers? Lots of those, too.
I got to the plane, and a female flight attendant bowed to me… and I was like I stepped into India. All the seats were colorfully decorated with red or yellow fabric, reminiscent of saris. The carpet was the same way. As this plane was flying over the Atlantic, it was huge. Each row had 9 seats, split up into columns of three. I was in the middle column, on the left aisle. There was no one in the middle (thank God), but a nice man on the right side. Late in the flight we talked about India and such. I definitely wanted to visit now.
Dinner was ok… no beef, of course ☹ I then tried to nap, but it was hard. There was a child crying and I find it difficult to sleep sitting up. I also am not the world’s best traveler. Don’t get me wrong: I love seeing new places. But the journey getting there? Not so much. I worry about the details, afraid I might oversleep and end up in… Mumbai, which I definitely did not want to do. Getting some place new makes me anxious. I also wondered how much I could play off the whole no return flight/ no work visa thing. How ditzy was too ditzy? Should I say I was touring Europe and not really sure where I might fly out? It might be Prague, Spain, or even Italy! By the time we landed, I was a little exhausted, a little travel battered, but I was ready to get off the plane.
I remembered something my dad had told me once. Cops never know if someone is guilty until they act fidgety… then they are sure that the person is hiding something. So I knew I had to act confident, no guilt, no fear. The guard didn’t even ask me anything. He just stamped my passport and I went through, relieved I had nothing to claim. Then I got my bags and went out to where people were waiting… and I didn’t see Hannah or the boys. Then I realized. I had no phone number for her, no identifying clothes, I didn’t even Euros! How would I find her? I walked around for a while with my huge bags. Then I decided to sit and wait. I needed to find a woman with four blonde boys. I had to wait 20 minutes, until I found someone matching that. I cautiously went over and said her name a couple times. She didn’t respond. One of the boys turned around, and tugged on her shirt. It was her!! Yay!
She implored the boys to get some of my bags. Then we had to find the car. The parking lot was huge. When we finally got settled in the car, the littlest one, Carl, said he had to pee. Haha.
We asked if he could wait, then we found a bathroom on the side of the road, but instead of going inside, all the boys just whipped it out and peed right there. I laughed. I can’t imagine seeing that in the US. Europeans are just not body shy.
Now that we were driving in the car, I felt better, and the countryside was beautiful! I did it! I was through Customs! I was here in Germany, on my way to a bed. Even though I tried my best, I was tired… my body thought it was 10 pm or later, and I knew I couldn’t last the whole day. We made conversation, and when we got to the house, I didn’t even recognize it as a house. It looked too big to be a house. She showed me around and I dropped my bags in my room. She told me a lot of things. Finally I couldn’t fight it anymore, I asked for a nap in my room. I allowed myself only 2 hours. I still wanted to be tired enough to sleep through the night. Given the amount of sleep I had had in the past 36 hours, I didn’t think that would be difficult.
I was so cold… I don’t know how I got to sleep then, but later I asked for another blanket. The nap felt great, but there was still some residual sleepiness. I unpacked my bags for a bit and still didn’t feel hungry when she called me for dinner. I picked at my dinner. Oh, and at this time, the internet had stopped working. I had wanted to email everyone and assure them of my safety, but I couldn’t do that. When I next checked my internet on Tuesday, I had some panicked emails. But on that Sunday, I told Hannah that I wasn’t hungry and went to bed. Yes, at 6 pm.
And I slept all through the night.
The Flight
San Diego---> Chicago ---> Frankfurt
Total Flight Time: 16 hr
Local Time departing 6:18 am
Local Time arriving 7:30 am (the next day)
I suppose I should start with my flight. I spent the night before packing, cleaning, and voting. Which meant I didn’t sleep very much. I was hoping that this would encourage my body to succumb to the time change more easily…
Anyway, at 4:30, mom and I got up to drive to the airport. It was on the way that I remember thinking (and asking) “What am I doing? Moving to Germany for 6 months to be an au pair?” I’ve never done anything so impulsive in my life!! There were a surprising number of people there and EVERYONE it seemed, was flying to Chicago. The attendant who checked me in asked if I had a return ticket. I said no I was going to be working. She asked if I had a work visa. No, not yet. “Well if the German Customs sees that you don’t have a work visa or a return flight, they make may you buy a flight 3 months after your arrival and you will be responsible for the costs incurred.” K, thanks. Bye to you, too.
Now I had that to worry about. But I tried not to. If you think hard enough about something, sometimes it happens, even if you don’t want it to. So I focused on not thinking about it. But when I couldn’t stop myself, I made a convincing dialogue that I could follow. I hoped I wouldn’t need it.
The flight to Chicago was pretty uneventful. I was in the middle seat, but it wasn’t so bad. I was excited to be in Chicago, even if it was only for a few hours, and even if it was only in the airport… That counts, right? Right?!
The airport was huge. I had no idea how to navigate around. Apparently there are 4 terminals… numbered 1, 2, 3, and 5. 5 is for international flights and I was in 2. So I took the airport shuttle to 5. There I walked around looking for Air India. Yup, Air India. Apparently Chicago is one of the few airports they fly out of and it goes to Frankfurt, then Mumbai and Hyderabad. When I found Air India, I was required to show my passport and itinerary before I got in line. The security was a little over the top.
Once it was ascertained that my luggage had already been checked, I was allowed to go in a line of about 2 people, with hand luggage. This was a relief, because the people with checked luggage comprised of a line about 40 people long. I kid you not. And it was not, like in San Diego, a guy with a buzz cut and 2 bags flying to boot camp. Every group had at least three people. Families had a youngish couple, an older woman (and sometimes a man too) and a couple of young toddlers. All of them. And not a single one had just one bag or even two. Indians do not pack light. I saw 4 bags on average. And some people had handwritten their address… I guess in case it had to be shipped. From what I saw, I guess that each family’s luggage contained their entire wardrobe… for 4 months. It was ridiculous. I think I’ve seen people pack for 3 months abroad with less luggage.
Once I got checked in, I went in search of food. Unfortunately, in terminal 5, the food court is outside the security… so you can’t take it in. What sense does this make? None. So I grabbed some McDonald’s and ate quickly. Once in line, (which had grown substantially), I met a couple who was going off to Mexico (jealous!) and there were some Germans in front of me going to Frankfurt. Besides those Germans, I believe I was the only white person. Every one else was continuing onto Hyderabad, etc.
Once through security, I got myself some snacks for the trip. I then had to check in… again with a flight attendant at the gate. It might have been easier to just drive to Boston, board a ship and get to Germany that way. Just sayin’. They said they were boarding an hour before my flight departure! This seemed like a lot of time to me. Generally, you start boarding 20 to 30 minutes before a flight… But then I realized why. All those Indian grandmas I saw earlier, remember them? Yeah they all rolled up in wheelchairs. All of them. I don’t know why all these elderly Indian women have trouble walking… maybe it was something in their diet or too much hard labor, but it was unreal. And the strollers? Lots of those, too.
I got to the plane, and a female flight attendant bowed to me… and I was like I stepped into India. All the seats were colorfully decorated with red or yellow fabric, reminiscent of saris. The carpet was the same way. As this plane was flying over the Atlantic, it was huge. Each row had 9 seats, split up into columns of three. I was in the middle column, on the left aisle. There was no one in the middle (thank God), but a nice man on the right side. Late in the flight we talked about India and such. I definitely wanted to visit now.
Dinner was ok… no beef, of course ☹ I then tried to nap, but it was hard. There was a child crying and I find it difficult to sleep sitting up. I also am not the world’s best traveler. Don’t get me wrong: I love seeing new places. But the journey getting there? Not so much. I worry about the details, afraid I might oversleep and end up in… Mumbai, which I definitely did not want to do. Getting some place new makes me anxious. I also wondered how much I could play off the whole no return flight/ no work visa thing. How ditzy was too ditzy? Should I say I was touring Europe and not really sure where I might fly out? It might be Prague, Spain, or even Italy! By the time we landed, I was a little exhausted, a little travel battered, but I was ready to get off the plane.
I remembered something my dad had told me once. Cops never know if someone is guilty until they act fidgety… then they are sure that the person is hiding something. So I knew I had to act confident, no guilt, no fear. The guard didn’t even ask me anything. He just stamped my passport and I went through, relieved I had nothing to claim. Then I got my bags and went out to where people were waiting… and I didn’t see Hannah or the boys. Then I realized. I had no phone number for her, no identifying clothes, I didn’t even Euros! How would I find her? I walked around for a while with my huge bags. Then I decided to sit and wait. I needed to find a woman with four blonde boys. I had to wait 20 minutes, until I found someone matching that. I cautiously went over and said her name a couple times. She didn’t respond. One of the boys turned around, and tugged on her shirt. It was her!! Yay!
She implored the boys to get some of my bags. Then we had to find the car. The parking lot was huge. When we finally got settled in the car, the littlest one, Carl, said he had to pee. Haha.
We asked if he could wait, then we found a bathroom on the side of the road, but instead of going inside, all the boys just whipped it out and peed right there. I laughed. I can’t imagine seeing that in the US. Europeans are just not body shy.
Now that we were driving in the car, I felt better, and the countryside was beautiful! I did it! I was through Customs! I was here in Germany, on my way to a bed. Even though I tried my best, I was tired… my body thought it was 10 pm or later, and I knew I couldn’t last the whole day. We made conversation, and when we got to the house, I didn’t even recognize it as a house. It looked too big to be a house. She showed me around and I dropped my bags in my room. She told me a lot of things. Finally I couldn’t fight it anymore, I asked for a nap in my room. I allowed myself only 2 hours. I still wanted to be tired enough to sleep through the night. Given the amount of sleep I had had in the past 36 hours, I didn’t think that would be difficult.
I was so cold… I don’t know how I got to sleep then, but later I asked for another blanket. The nap felt great, but there was still some residual sleepiness. I unpacked my bags for a bit and still didn’t feel hungry when she called me for dinner. I picked at my dinner. Oh, and at this time, the internet had stopped working. I had wanted to email everyone and assure them of my safety, but I couldn’t do that. When I next checked my internet on Tuesday, I had some panicked emails. But on that Sunday, I told Hannah that I wasn’t hungry and went to bed. Yes, at 6 pm.
And I slept all through the night.
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
First Post
Hello Gentle Readers!!
I know this blog gets going about a month too late, and I have a lot to catch you up on. For that reason, I hope to be able to adequately describe the first month and a half quickly, and then get to current time.
With this blog, I hope to post twice a week. Every day seems to be too much- both mentally and time-wise. Hopefully, twice a week packs enough information without overburdening you or me.
My old blog, The Ferrara Adventure is now at this location http://theferraraadventure.blogspot.com if you fancy some old reading material or something.
Right now, I am writing this on the anniversary of Pearl Harbor. I know that gives most of us a little pause, because let's face it, it was the 9/11 of the 1940's (regardless of whether you think either was staged for any reason). Hopefully Obama gives a good speech and isn't too quick to use his normal bland cliches or puerile hyperboles. Just sayin'.
Although Advent isn't huge in the US, here it is a big deal. We have Advent calendars, and wreaths with 4 candles (one for each week), and candles for every day. It's crazy. For Americans, I think it is just Christmas. As if it all starts on Black Friday. But for Europeans, it seems to be about the Coming, as if the waiting makes it so much more enjoyable. Or who knows. Maybe this is all just BS coming from a tired thinker. Anyway, it's definitely winter and definitely Advent. You couldn't throw a brick and find a window that doesn't have a star hanging in it. Seriously.
Oh, and one more thing, maintenance wise: I will be using different names for all the people described here. So I will give fake names so the events related can have a touch of anonymity. Trust me, I learned this the hard way last time.
Gute Nacht
I know this blog gets going about a month too late, and I have a lot to catch you up on. For that reason, I hope to be able to adequately describe the first month and a half quickly, and then get to current time.
With this blog, I hope to post twice a week. Every day seems to be too much- both mentally and time-wise. Hopefully, twice a week packs enough information without overburdening you or me.
My old blog, The Ferrara Adventure is now at this location http://theferraraadventure.blogspot.com if you fancy some old reading material or something.
Right now, I am writing this on the anniversary of Pearl Harbor. I know that gives most of us a little pause, because let's face it, it was the 9/11 of the 1940's (regardless of whether you think either was staged for any reason). Hopefully Obama gives a good speech and isn't too quick to use his normal bland cliches or puerile hyperboles. Just sayin'.
Although Advent isn't huge in the US, here it is a big deal. We have Advent calendars, and wreaths with 4 candles (one for each week), and candles for every day. It's crazy. For Americans, I think it is just Christmas. As if it all starts on Black Friday. But for Europeans, it seems to be about the Coming, as if the waiting makes it so much more enjoyable. Or who knows. Maybe this is all just BS coming from a tired thinker. Anyway, it's definitely winter and definitely Advent. You couldn't throw a brick and find a window that doesn't have a star hanging in it. Seriously.
Oh, and one more thing, maintenance wise: I will be using different names for all the people described here. So I will give fake names so the events related can have a touch of anonymity. Trust me, I learned this the hard way last time.
Gute Nacht
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