August 12th
We all woke up late and ran across the street to pick up breakfast at a cute hole-in-the-wall patisserie right across the street for some croissants. I have to say, patisseries in Paris are unbelievable. I think I could probably eat about 10 croissants in one sitting, especially with nutella. They are so light and crispy and buttery, so so good! Then we walked downtown, which took us about half an hour of weaving through crowded streets full of cafes, shoe stores, and clusters of laid-back loiterers standing in the middle of the sidewalk. On our way there, we stopped in a little cafe to order coffee "au zinc" or "at the bar" which is about half the price of sitting at a table to drink it. Who knew? For lunch, I got a crepe with nutella... i know, i need to stop with the nutella, but i just can't!! Anyways, we then headed to the Eiffel Tower, which we climbed at dusk and looked out over the city of Paris. It was absolutely gorgeous. You could see for miles, and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. We also sat on a lawn with an amazing front-and-center view of the Tower, where tons of chic young Parisians were sitting, drinking wine and eating baguettes and brie. I could get used to the Parisian way of life- just not the chain smoking, which must be the reason why most Parisians are so thin!
August 13th
We walked along the Siene River until we found Notre Dame Cathedral- it was hard to miss because there were hundreds of people waiting in line outside. But it was worth the walk and the wait. Inside, there are the most beautiful stained glass windows, high cielings, and incredible acoustics. There was a section blocked off for prayer, where a small group of worshippers were singing some sort of aria in French led by an older black woman with a clear, strong voice that gave me chills. It was almost surreal as I stood there listening in the midst of tourists rushing by in the dimly-lit cathedral. There was such tranquility in her voice, which was filled with passion and faith- I felt very lucky to have witnessed it.
At night, the city of Paris comes alive. Everyone is out at little cafes along the canal, or bars tucked away in humble but colorful neighborhoods. We went out to a little place called Cafe Cherie that Jessi suggested- a five minute walk from her place. It was a cozy little place on a corner, with outdoor seating and old school desks for tables. It was fun to sit there with friends, and listen to everyone around us laughing and talking in French even though I couldn't understand a word. I'm happy we went out that night, just to experience the culture. Even though it was a week night, everyone was out with friends and family. It was, in my opinion, a glimpse into a much warmer side of Paris.
August 14th
Tim and I went to visit the Pere Lachaise cemetary, where many famous people like Jim Morrison and Oscar Wilde are buried. I have to say, it was kinda creepy. First of all, when we got there we saw this middle-aged man lurking in the on the shady pathway. We walked in between the mouseleum graves (they looked like little outhouses) that you can actually go inside of. The man slipped into one and slammed the door behind him. Tim and I looked at each other, and then a few minutes later the guy emerged. Who knows what he was doing in there... I'm hoping the was just praying in there or something :) But we had fun looking at all the old graves and statues, and there was a beautiful park area with a view of the city below. It was a serene escape from the loud busy city that was much needed. Later, we went to visit the Louvre, and saw the Mona Lisa (smaller than I imagined) as well as the Code of Hammurabai (Tim's favorite) and Venus de Milo (my favorite). But the Louvre is so incredibly huge, and we were so incredibly tired and hungry, that we didn't stay very long. It was also extremely crowded, and it was hard to stand and look at pictures when hundreds of people were filing past you, off to see the Mona Lisa or whatever it was they were looking for. I will say, though, that my heart skipped a beat as we walked up to the Mona Lisa in a sea of people, and I saw it in the distance. I guess I just felt so alive to see such a famous piece of history right in front of me, even though it sounds cheesy. It was just one of those moments that you have to pinch yourself and say "Am I really here right now, seeing this?" It was a very cool feeling.
August 15th
In the late morning, we all boarded a bus to go see the Catacombs, an underground cemetary filled with bones stacked to the cieling and goes on for about 300 kilometers under the city. It was built by the Romans thousands of years ago as quarries, and later when the city of Paris started to grow and above-ground cemetaries started filling up, people started getting sick from the dead, rotting bodies. So, Paris put the old quarries to good use and starting putting the bones of the dead below ground, which is now known as the Catacombs. Pretty crazy, huh? I was uneasy about going, but Tim really wanted to see it. Sadly, when we got there they were closed, so we walked back home. On our way, we found the Palace of Louxembourg, which is surrounded by beautiful gardens open to the public. That night, we walked down to the canal near our place, where tons of young Parisians go to sit and hang out with friends. It was a warm night, and the perfect time for people watching. There was a group of glamorous young Parisan women sitting next to us celebrating a friends' birthday with champagne and gifts. It was truly a place where the locals went to hang out, and to me that was much more fun than many of the touristy hang-outs we could have seen. It was the perfect way to end our time in Paris, and something I will never forget.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Paris
August 11th
I'm sitting on a train to Pris form Germany, and some little kids are siting in front of us, speaking Arabic, and having a monster tantrum, running up and down the aisles screaming. It's close to 100 degrees on the train, and we still have 3 hours left! I guess now I've seen some of the less glamorous sides of travel :) We had quite a morning- Tess, Laura and I got up at 5:30 AM to catch a train to Frankfurt and meet Tim, but we accidentally got on the wrong train and had to hop from traint o train for about 3 hrs. until we finally made it. We missed our train that we had reserved, so we had to wait an extra five hours for the next one. Oh well. Poor Tim was waiting at the train station for us for several hours before we arrived, and for some reason my cell phone wasn't working. We finally made it to Paris around 5 PM, and then made our way to Jessi's house (the older sister of one of Tess's friends) who has lived and worked in Paris for the past two years. To get there, we had to walk through a little park that was a little sketchy. I really had to use the bathroom, so I walked over to an outhouse in the park, only to realize that I had about 100 eyeballs of Moroccan men staring at me. A fight was about to break out between the men, and it was obvious they did not want us on their turf- we ran out of there as fast as we could! We still had two hours until Jessi's friend would meet us at the apartment to give us keys, so we searched for a restarurant in the neighborhood, but nothing was that early. I peered into a Moroccan restaurant where an unshaven man in sweatpants was sitting at a table eating couscous and lamb kebabs. He motioned us inside to eat, so we plopped down at a booth and proceeded to eat a feast of french fries, chicken, and soup. The place was barren except for a couple Moroccan men eating in the corner. Our waiter was hilarious, and even had the nerve to (jokingly) inquire whether Tess and Laura were lesbians on a double date with Tim and I! "She is very beautiful, eh?", he said to Tess, pointing at Laura. It was pretty funny. He brought us a glass of Moroccan mint tea, which we almost refused since we thought it was liquor in a shotglass- we really are such stereotypical tourists! But we walked out of there full and satisfied, and just as we left, they turned on the music. That's when we realized that the place was just opening! he had invited us in and the restaurant hadn't even been open! :)
I'm sitting on a train to Pris form Germany, and some little kids are siting in front of us, speaking Arabic, and having a monster tantrum, running up and down the aisles screaming. It's close to 100 degrees on the train, and we still have 3 hours left! I guess now I've seen some of the less glamorous sides of travel :) We had quite a morning- Tess, Laura and I got up at 5:30 AM to catch a train to Frankfurt and meet Tim, but we accidentally got on the wrong train and had to hop from traint o train for about 3 hrs. until we finally made it. We missed our train that we had reserved, so we had to wait an extra five hours for the next one. Oh well. Poor Tim was waiting at the train station for us for several hours before we arrived, and for some reason my cell phone wasn't working. We finally made it to Paris around 5 PM, and then made our way to Jessi's house (the older sister of one of Tess's friends) who has lived and worked in Paris for the past two years. To get there, we had to walk through a little park that was a little sketchy. I really had to use the bathroom, so I walked over to an outhouse in the park, only to realize that I had about 100 eyeballs of Moroccan men staring at me. A fight was about to break out between the men, and it was obvious they did not want us on their turf- we ran out of there as fast as we could! We still had two hours until Jessi's friend would meet us at the apartment to give us keys, so we searched for a restarurant in the neighborhood, but nothing was that early. I peered into a Moroccan restaurant where an unshaven man in sweatpants was sitting at a table eating couscous and lamb kebabs. He motioned us inside to eat, so we plopped down at a booth and proceeded to eat a feast of french fries, chicken, and soup. The place was barren except for a couple Moroccan men eating in the corner. Our waiter was hilarious, and even had the nerve to (jokingly) inquire whether Tess and Laura were lesbians on a double date with Tim and I! "She is very beautiful, eh?", he said to Tess, pointing at Laura. It was pretty funny. He brought us a glass of Moroccan mint tea, which we almost refused since we thought it was liquor in a shotglass- we really are such stereotypical tourists! But we walked out of there full and satisfied, and just as we left, they turned on the music. That's when we realized that the place was just opening! he had invited us in and the restaurant hadn't even been open! :)
A Run along the Rhine (and more)
The next morning I woke up early to go for a run along the Rhine River. To get there, I had to run past some bums sitting under a bridge who yelled something at me in German. That was the first time I felt happy to not know German! It was good running weather: cloudy and cool. Along the river trail, I passed tons of bikers ommuting to work, and the occasional runner clad in spandex shorts and always wearing a short sleeve shirt and never a tank top. I, of course being the American that I am, wore a tank top and shorts. Maybe I was just imagining it, but I think I got some wierd looks! I hadn't gotten the memo of proper German running attire :) I got back to the house sweaty and thirsty, and after a shower we all had a huge breakfast together of the most amazing croissants with nutella, furit, yogurt, and coffee. Then, Tess, Laura and I set out to find a tattoo parlor where Tess could get a flower tattoo on her hip (she wanted to do it in Germany for the significance of being in her (other) home country). But it took us hours to find the place! When we finally climbed up the narrow staircase to the parlor, the woman behind the counter said that there was a waiting list until MARCH! She said that, in the past year, everyone in Bonn had been coming in asking for a tattoo. What's funny is that when I was walking around Germany, I noticed a ton of people with tattoos! Sadly, Tess will have to wait until next time she goes to Germany- and make an appointment way in advance!
In the evening, we went out for spagetti ice with Chip and Claudia at a place along the sidewalk where there was a play structure for Luisa. As Claudia played with Luisa, we talked to Chip about what it's like to live in Germany. He said it's amazing how seemingly small choices or decisons we make in our lives can often turn out to play a huge role in determining our futures. Laura asked him if he was happy he moved to Germany, and he shrugged his shoulders in a way that meant the question was irrelevent, unanswerable. For Chip, moving to Germany at 25 led him to meet Claudia and fall in love, so staying was the obvious choice. I. "I do sometimes wonder what my life would be like if I had stayed in the States, " said Chip. But it's obvious he is very happy with his life. It got me thinking about my own life, about the defining moments and decisions that have already made me who I am, as well as those to come. There are so many "what-ifs" in life- a billion opportunities that we must daily choose from. At the same time, I don't believe that anything I've experienced in my life has been the result of happenstance. I know tehre is a purpose and plan for my life that is still unfolding. So even the seemingly small things like a little comment spoken to a friend, or what I write at this moment, or even my daily thoughts and dreams which appear to be only miniscule threads in my life are very much a part of who I am and who I will become. Just as Chip's life is rooted in Germany and full of love and joy with his family, my life is a constant Journey of thinking, feeling, loving, singing, praying, running, laughing, and exploring. Although I coul imagine my life being different- or better-or worse- it is what it is. And it is REAL. To me, that is far better than any what-ifs and daydreams for that reason.
In the evening, we went out for spagetti ice with Chip and Claudia at a place along the sidewalk where there was a play structure for Luisa. As Claudia played with Luisa, we talked to Chip about what it's like to live in Germany. He said it's amazing how seemingly small choices or decisons we make in our lives can often turn out to play a huge role in determining our futures. Laura asked him if he was happy he moved to Germany, and he shrugged his shoulders in a way that meant the question was irrelevent, unanswerable. For Chip, moving to Germany at 25 led him to meet Claudia and fall in love, so staying was the obvious choice. I. "I do sometimes wonder what my life would be like if I had stayed in the States, " said Chip. But it's obvious he is very happy with his life. It got me thinking about my own life, about the defining moments and decisions that have already made me who I am, as well as those to come. There are so many "what-ifs" in life- a billion opportunities that we must daily choose from. At the same time, I don't believe that anything I've experienced in my life has been the result of happenstance. I know tehre is a purpose and plan for my life that is still unfolding. So even the seemingly small things like a little comment spoken to a friend, or what I write at this moment, or even my daily thoughts and dreams which appear to be only miniscule threads in my life are very much a part of who I am and who I will become. Just as Chip's life is rooted in Germany and full of love and joy with his family, my life is a constant Journey of thinking, feeling, loving, singing, praying, running, laughing, and exploring. Although I coul imagine my life being different- or better-or worse- it is what it is. And it is REAL. To me, that is far better than any what-ifs and daydreams for that reason.
Bonn-Bonns?
The afternoon we arrived in Bonn, we literally walked about two blocks to Chip and Claudia' shouse right in the heart of the historic city of about 300,000 that sits next to the Rhine River. Tess was a little girl when she met Chip, a college friend of her parents. When Tess and her parents moved to Germany when she was 7, Chip and her parents were fresh out of college, so Chip came along and worked at a software company with Tess's dad. After 2 years, Tess and her parents moved back to the states, but Chip stayed in Germany after meeting his future wife, Claudia. He's now lived in Germany for 15 years, and he and Claudia have the cutest little 2 year-old, Luisa. There house has been imprinted with a two-year-old's presence: the white, big-windowed living room is filled with colorful pillows, a kids table, puppets, and stuffed animals. It was interesting to see American and German styles combined. A framed picture of Zion National Park in Utah, where Chip is from, hangs on the same wall as a cardboard moose head and a standing CD collection of American artists. But on the coffee table, German movies and newspapers are loosely piled. There was something so reassuring about staying with an American. It's a cute house, too. The kitchen has bright red counters and a view of the backyard they share with thier flatmates. In Germany, apartments do not come with ANYTHING- no appliances, no washing machines, not even kitchen counters! You have to buy everything yourself. They gave us the grand tour, and said that when they first moved in they were worried the place would be too dark since all the bedrooms are in the basement- but they've adjusted. After spending a couple hours with them, it's obvious that Luisa brings enough light into their home simply by how darn cute she is. She was constantly laughing, chatting in German and English, and when we went on walks, Luisa ran around as Chip followed close behind her, crouching down to her level. It was very cute to watch! We all walked down to the Rhine River and had a little snack at the biergarten (outdoor bar) under a giant oak tree. The sun was out, and there were tons fo lovesick couples holding hands from across the wooden tables, along with friends gathered together to enjoy drinks next to the river. We then walked downtown, where there are ancient plazas built in the 1300's, and every building is tall and stately with fancy architecture. The buildings are literally right next to eachother, so it looks like one building except they are often different colors. We walked by Beetoven's house and countless clothing stores with odd names in English like "Mode Rat", "Chewing Gum", and "Christ"! We had lasagna for dinner in their backyard.
Biking through Germany
We rode bikes around the countryside today, which was so much fun! The shop where we rented bikes was next to this huge cornfield, and I picked out a teal blue one that I instantly fell in love with. We hopped on our bikes and wove our way through the streets, following a red brick road. Even though it was slightly cloudy, it was absolutely beautiful! There were so many cornfields and little forests and meadows, horses and sheep. We rode to a little German town that borders the Netherlands, and stopped at a square with the most awkward fountain I've ever seen that bordered on tacky: a bull with a pipe you-know-what where the water came out, "peeing" into a bowl on top of two other bulls. Ya. it was odd. But the rest of the town was cool... there were so many little red brick stores and afes, laced with flower boxes and adorable little rounded doors. We met Rinatta and Eric at a little ice cream shop, where we sat outside and ate Spagetti ice, which is basically spagetti ice cream smothered in sauce and whipped cream- it's sooo good! The only downside was when the bees came out- it was war. They would not leave, and pretty soon there were a dozen bees trampling all over our dear spagetti ice, zipping past our faces, and scaring me back 3 whole chair scoots. I felt like such a baby, but hey, I guess the bees enjoyed the spagetti ice more than I did :)
We walked to a local market in the evening, and found some RitterSport hazelnut chocolate that was heavenly. We also had brie and bread- i felt so European :) I fell asleep at 9:30 and was knocked out cold until 10 AM...13 hours of uninterrupted sleep-i guess jet lag will do that to you! At 11 AM we walked with one of Eric and Rinatta's friends, Julia, to a nearby restaurant for lunch/breakfast. Julia is 24, and is from Northern Spain. She doesn't know much English, so I talked to her in Spanish which was a lot of fun. At the restaurant, it was hilarious to try and figure out the menu, all in German. I finally figured out that "orange" fish was salmon, and that "cow butt" (according to Tess's translation) was rumpsteak. hahah! Later, we biked through the city and took pictures in front of an old catherdral. Outside the huge red doors, Tess and I modeled forthe camera, while we loudly pranced around. About five minutes later, three older Germans walked out, and we head organ music. We assumed they had just been practicing, and continued to be loud and goofy. A couple mintues later we rode away, and saw that on the other side of the church, hundreds of people were flooding out the doors. In a country where manners take a front seat, we had just embarrassed ourselves- but it was also pretty funny! Needless to say, we biked our way out of there as fast as we could! We biked along a a river, through the country, and it was so fun feeling the wind whip past my face. Then nature called... as a rule, I don't like relieving myself in fields next to higways, but I had no idea where we were. So, I peed in a cornfield- a first for me :) That night, in the cozy dining room, we sat with Eric and shared some Spanish wine. Eric and Rinatta were the first importers of Spanish wine into their region of Germany. It was so peaceful sitting there with friends, as the smell of wine blended with the musty smell of the house- a place where history, art, and comfort collide.
We walked to a local market in the evening, and found some RitterSport hazelnut chocolate that was heavenly. We also had brie and bread- i felt so European :) I fell asleep at 9:30 and was knocked out cold until 10 AM...13 hours of uninterrupted sleep-i guess jet lag will do that to you! At 11 AM we walked with one of Eric and Rinatta's friends, Julia, to a nearby restaurant for lunch/breakfast. Julia is 24, and is from Northern Spain. She doesn't know much English, so I talked to her in Spanish which was a lot of fun. At the restaurant, it was hilarious to try and figure out the menu, all in German. I finally figured out that "orange" fish was salmon, and that "cow butt" (according to Tess's translation) was rumpsteak. hahah! Later, we biked through the city and took pictures in front of an old catherdral. Outside the huge red doors, Tess and I modeled forthe camera, while we loudly pranced around. About five minutes later, three older Germans walked out, and we head organ music. We assumed they had just been practicing, and continued to be loud and goofy. A couple mintues later we rode away, and saw that on the other side of the church, hundreds of people were flooding out the doors. In a country where manners take a front seat, we had just embarrassed ourselves- but it was also pretty funny! Needless to say, we biked our way out of there as fast as we could! We biked along a a river, through the country, and it was so fun feeling the wind whip past my face. Then nature called... as a rule, I don't like relieving myself in fields next to higways, but I had no idea where we were. So, I peed in a cornfield- a first for me :) That night, in the cozy dining room, we sat with Eric and shared some Spanish wine. Eric and Rinatta were the first importers of Spanish wine into their region of Germany. It was so peaceful sitting there with friends, as the smell of wine blended with the musty smell of the house- a place where history, art, and comfort collide.
want some chocolate? yes. and yes. and yes!!
August 8th
I love chocolate. I could eat chocolate on a boat. On a plane. On a train. I could eat chocolate wearing a coat. In a moat. Carrying a tote. Ok, ok I'll stop trying to Dr. Seuss my way through this one, but you get the idea. Well, I'll just say that Germany is the most perfect place to eat chocolate. Besides the fact that the chocolate is dangerously creamy and delicious here because it melts in your mouth like butter on hot toast, I have to say that the setting real adds to the experience- no, the art- of eating chocolate. Constantly hearing native Germans chatter away in their fun language filled with throaty sounds and dignified words like danke (thank you) and biergarten (i will explain later if you don't already know what this is), really puts me in the European mood, if I dare say so. What i mean is, I think of German chocolate like Hanuta Haselnuss-Schnitte and other tasty, exotic sounding brands as the perfect narcotic. It's like drinking coffee in a cafe in Paris. It just fits with the atmosphere, and tastes even better because of this. Anyways, I am thankful I don't live here, because between this tasty commodity and Nutella (don't even get me started on Nutella), I would soon resemble the German by in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and- as Tess puts it- I would need a bulldozer to transport me around town.
But enough about chocolate. Tess, Laura and I got to Kleve Germany, a small town in the North where her grandparents live, and were greeted by her step-grandpa,Eric. Eric is tall, with white hair and glasses. And he wears the uniform of all German older men- leather slip-on sandals with socks, tight jeans, a polo shirt, and a tan vest. I swear, every older man in Germany wears a tan vest and a polo shirt!! It's so funny. We even started counting all the "twins" we saw in Germany, but there were so many I don't even remember anymore. Anyways, Eric drove us to their flat, which is located near the city center. We climbed a stairway with a wall covered with paintings and children's artwork to the main floor, where we met Tess's Oma (Grandma) named Rinatta. Rinatta recently had a stroke, so she has a difficult time walking and talking, but still has a sharp wit and a deep love for her German-American granddaughter Tess. I was immediately struck with the beauty and uniqueness of Rinatta and Eric's home: it was covered in artwork (Rinatta was once an artist herself), faded oriental rugs, sculptures, and photos taped loosely to the wall. There was no order, no rhyme or reason to the placement of a pair of espadrilles with pink laces tied above the doorway, Spanish wine bottles standing on tables, and bright windows splashed with sunlight. But every piece of the house as a whole made something beautiful and artistic. We ascended another staircase to where our bedroom was. In me and Tess's room, there were two beds with matching plaid bedspreads and huge square pillows that looked like something staight out of an IKEA catalog. Laura's room across the hall held a bed up in a loft, held above a small office area lined with white bookshelves all the way to the ceiling, filled with colorful binders and files. A large desk with a computer sat in the corner next to a small nook with a huge window overlooking a brick-lined garden and a back alley with more flats behind it. We had lunch out on a small deck: potato soup with sausage followed by this amazing dessert of fresh, local strawberries in a thick cream cheese/yogurt sauce. Mmm!
I love chocolate. I could eat chocolate on a boat. On a plane. On a train. I could eat chocolate wearing a coat. In a moat. Carrying a tote. Ok, ok I'll stop trying to Dr. Seuss my way through this one, but you get the idea. Well, I'll just say that Germany is the most perfect place to eat chocolate. Besides the fact that the chocolate is dangerously creamy and delicious here because it melts in your mouth like butter on hot toast, I have to say that the setting real adds to the experience- no, the art- of eating chocolate. Constantly hearing native Germans chatter away in their fun language filled with throaty sounds and dignified words like danke (thank you) and biergarten (i will explain later if you don't already know what this is), really puts me in the European mood, if I dare say so. What i mean is, I think of German chocolate like Hanuta Haselnuss-Schnitte and other tasty, exotic sounding brands as the perfect narcotic. It's like drinking coffee in a cafe in Paris. It just fits with the atmosphere, and tastes even better because of this. Anyways, I am thankful I don't live here, because between this tasty commodity and Nutella (don't even get me started on Nutella), I would soon resemble the German by in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and- as Tess puts it- I would need a bulldozer to transport me around town.
But enough about chocolate. Tess, Laura and I got to Kleve Germany, a small town in the North where her grandparents live, and were greeted by her step-grandpa,Eric. Eric is tall, with white hair and glasses. And he wears the uniform of all German older men- leather slip-on sandals with socks, tight jeans, a polo shirt, and a tan vest. I swear, every older man in Germany wears a tan vest and a polo shirt!! It's so funny. We even started counting all the "twins" we saw in Germany, but there were so many I don't even remember anymore. Anyways, Eric drove us to their flat, which is located near the city center. We climbed a stairway with a wall covered with paintings and children's artwork to the main floor, where we met Tess's Oma (Grandma) named Rinatta. Rinatta recently had a stroke, so she has a difficult time walking and talking, but still has a sharp wit and a deep love for her German-American granddaughter Tess. I was immediately struck with the beauty and uniqueness of Rinatta and Eric's home: it was covered in artwork (Rinatta was once an artist herself), faded oriental rugs, sculptures, and photos taped loosely to the wall. There was no order, no rhyme or reason to the placement of a pair of espadrilles with pink laces tied above the doorway, Spanish wine bottles standing on tables, and bright windows splashed with sunlight. But every piece of the house as a whole made something beautiful and artistic. We ascended another staircase to where our bedroom was. In me and Tess's room, there were two beds with matching plaid bedspreads and huge square pillows that looked like something staight out of an IKEA catalog. Laura's room across the hall held a bed up in a loft, held above a small office area lined with white bookshelves all the way to the ceiling, filled with colorful binders and files. A large desk with a computer sat in the corner next to a small nook with a huge window overlooking a brick-lined garden and a back alley with more flats behind it. We had lunch out on a small deck: potato soup with sausage followed by this amazing dessert of fresh, local strawberries in a thick cream cheese/yogurt sauce. Mmm!
Germany
August 9th, 2009
I'm on the train to Kleve, Germany. It's a beautiful sunny day, and we are going past the countryside, passing villages, forests with thin, unusual trees and dark tunnels. When we first got off the plane, it was a challenge to find the right train we needed to take. Instantaneously, as we were standing there confused in the trains station, a German woman with dark cropped hair and a black tattoo that curled around her right bicep walked up to us. She was wearing a white sundress, and I was so excited to be in Europe after I realized that there are some very helpful, warm people here. The lady led us up to the right part of the station, pointed us in the right direction, and warned us about the perils of dirty surfaces in German train stations that can lead to swine flu! It was pretty funny. We nodded our heads as she told us-in English- to have a great trip. Then she was gone.
My impressions of Germany:
-The German customs officers looked so stereotypically, well... German. The didn't smile once, they were quick and too that point. It wasn't neccessarily a bad thing- they simply send you on your way and get down to business. I think most Germans are hard workers, at least they come off that way.
-All the sandwiches, bread, pastries, pretzels in the train station looked soooo good! They make all the sandwiches with tomato, cheese, meat, on fresh baguettes ahead of time and place them temptingly in the windows. How can you NOT walk by and salivate?! They must bank on selling lots of sandwiches throughout the day- that's faith right there.
-Germany is a very clean place- you don't see much trash on the ground, and people look very clean-cut. Usually simply dressed but slightly dressed up, like most people do in Europe.
-It's so quiet here! On the train, we were supposed to whisper or else we would get wierd stares. It was so peaceful in contrast to the screaming, crying babies on the neverending plane ride to Frankfurt from Dallas. I just basked in the silence, it was music to my ears :)
-On the train ride, Tess pulled out a photo from her childhood. In the picture, she looked about 7 years old, and it was taken in Germany when she lived there for a couple years with her parents (her dad is from Germany). In the photo, Tess was standing next to a window, where below the street was covered in snow and flakes were floating down. She had bangs and a short cropped haircut, and here eyes were big and bright. Tess tucked the photo back into her book, but as she did I couldn't help but catch a glimpse of her eyes- they are the same as in the picture: big, open, peaceful. I think it has something to do with the fact that we are in Germany. "This feels like home to me, even more than Portland", said Tess as she looked out the window. It got me thinking about belonging, about identity. Tess has two places that she calls home. Two cultures that she holds inside of her, that are very different and sometimes possibly conflicting. As for me, I can really only call Portland home. I love the dark shadows and drizzling rainstorms that grace my city every winter and Spring. And I love the green lawns and bright gold and red leaves that color my city. I love the smell of fresh mud and of my mom making waffles when it sifts through the vent from the kitchen into my bedroom. I love the creaks of my old house, and every little crease of the faces I know and love back home. It feels so warm and comfortable to belong somewhere, but the feeling of discovery and understanding and new cultures is also a good feeling. It may not be as comfortable, but it is just as identity shaping- how can anyone ever crow in the middle of constant familiarity... what is there to learn?
I'm on the train to Kleve, Germany. It's a beautiful sunny day, and we are going past the countryside, passing villages, forests with thin, unusual trees and dark tunnels. When we first got off the plane, it was a challenge to find the right train we needed to take. Instantaneously, as we were standing there confused in the trains station, a German woman with dark cropped hair and a black tattoo that curled around her right bicep walked up to us. She was wearing a white sundress, and I was so excited to be in Europe after I realized that there are some very helpful, warm people here. The lady led us up to the right part of the station, pointed us in the right direction, and warned us about the perils of dirty surfaces in German train stations that can lead to swine flu! It was pretty funny. We nodded our heads as she told us-in English- to have a great trip. Then she was gone.
My impressions of Germany:
-The German customs officers looked so stereotypically, well... German. The didn't smile once, they were quick and too that point. It wasn't neccessarily a bad thing- they simply send you on your way and get down to business. I think most Germans are hard workers, at least they come off that way.
-All the sandwiches, bread, pastries, pretzels in the train station looked soooo good! They make all the sandwiches with tomato, cheese, meat, on fresh baguettes ahead of time and place them temptingly in the windows. How can you NOT walk by and salivate?! They must bank on selling lots of sandwiches throughout the day- that's faith right there.
-Germany is a very clean place- you don't see much trash on the ground, and people look very clean-cut. Usually simply dressed but slightly dressed up, like most people do in Europe.
-It's so quiet here! On the train, we were supposed to whisper or else we would get wierd stares. It was so peaceful in contrast to the screaming, crying babies on the neverending plane ride to Frankfurt from Dallas. I just basked in the silence, it was music to my ears :)
-On the train ride, Tess pulled out a photo from her childhood. In the picture, she looked about 7 years old, and it was taken in Germany when she lived there for a couple years with her parents (her dad is from Germany). In the photo, Tess was standing next to a window, where below the street was covered in snow and flakes were floating down. She had bangs and a short cropped haircut, and here eyes were big and bright. Tess tucked the photo back into her book, but as she did I couldn't help but catch a glimpse of her eyes- they are the same as in the picture: big, open, peaceful. I think it has something to do with the fact that we are in Germany. "This feels like home to me, even more than Portland", said Tess as she looked out the window. It got me thinking about belonging, about identity. Tess has two places that she calls home. Two cultures that she holds inside of her, that are very different and sometimes possibly conflicting. As for me, I can really only call Portland home. I love the dark shadows and drizzling rainstorms that grace my city every winter and Spring. And I love the green lawns and bright gold and red leaves that color my city. I love the smell of fresh mud and of my mom making waffles when it sifts through the vent from the kitchen into my bedroom. I love the creaks of my old house, and every little crease of the faces I know and love back home. It feels so warm and comfortable to belong somewhere, but the feeling of discovery and understanding and new cultures is also a good feeling. It may not be as comfortable, but it is just as identity shaping- how can anyone ever crow in the middle of constant familiarity... what is there to learn?
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