SNOW!!

A lot has happened in the last week: I moved into a new host family, had Thanksgiving, played in three concerts (two on one day), and last but definitely not least, IT SNOWED!

This is what I saw when I opened the window this morning. In the night, it snowed about 15 cm.



Now if it only didn't have to be so cold out for it to be like this...

More photos here

St. Nikolaustag & Aachen Weekend

I don't know how this happened; I sat down to write about St. Nikolaustag and the differences between the German christmas season, and ended up writing this. It just all came out.

"Saint Nick" in Germany is not an alias for Santa. St. Nikolaus has his own day here in Germany, and that was last Sunday.

But I want to back up first. Here's how my weekend went: Friday I got up at 8, feeling a bit sick, but needing to get ready for Vedashree's birthday party and the long-awaited Rotex weekend in Aachen. I packed all my stuff in a big backpacking backpack, which was good, because I had to run to the bus stop. The Pfeists, (where I am going to be living from next Saturday on, btw.) have laid out a big breakfast, from which I eat sparingly, because I am really beginning to feel that kind of everything-hurts sick and tired that forebodes a nasty cold, or even the (dun dun dunnnnnn) Schweine Grippe. But I grit my teeth, because I have resolved not to miss the chance to see all the other awesome exchange students, come hell or high temperatures. German friends of Vedashree's show up, including some I don't know- it's good we all have some different friends.

The party starts at 11, and by twelve it is in full swing, but so is my immune system. I mostly sit on the couch and take pictures. Vedashree gets a package from her family that was amazingly coordinated to come on her birthday, and everyone does some kind of embarrassing stunt. Good fun. After the germans leave, Vedashree and Signe (who had stayed the night at the Pfeists) dissapear upstairs to pack for Aachen, and I disappear downstairs to sleep; I'm not going to get much the rest of the weekend, and my body is demanding it.

Some time later, we load everything into Marcos' hostmother's car, and hit the road to Aachen. I try to nap, but no dice- Vedashree keeps getting birthday calls from India, and talking loudly to my left in Hindi or something similar, punctuated by english words and german place names. I try to read my parallel-text book, but the short stories turn out to be flat, with no recognizable plot or end, no action, no catharsis. My objective for the weekend has become to tough it out as long as possible, show willing and smile a Rotary smile for as long as I can stand.

As we approach Aachen, I am called from the reserve as a navigator. This is something I like to do, plot a course over strange roads using directions and logic. We find the Bahnhof with barely a hitch, and meet with a crowd of others. I get a water, and start to feel a little better. It's good to see all these great people again. We joke abut me having the "Schweine Grippe", and get our family assignments for tonight. Same deal as last time- first night with Rotary families in groups of three or four, second in a gym all together.

My host mother for the night picks us up. She is incredibly nice, and serves us a wonderful dinner of chicken, which I eat without a hint of reluctance. The father and daughter show up after we have eaten from their field hockey games. The program for the evening is decided: The other three exchange students want to go out on the town with the host parents but I decide to stay home, play a board game with my temporary host sister, and go to bed early.

This turns out to be an excellent decision. I have fun, and the extra sleep is apparently exactly what I needed. Come morning I don't feel sick at all! A nice, if hurried breakfast (there is nothing that annoys Germans more than running late, unless it's being made late by slow-to-wake exchange students) and we head off to the school that will be the base of operations for the rest of the weekend.

First order of business: The Aachener Cathedral's Schatzkammer (treasury, literally, but many old treasuries in Germany are now museums.) Lots of gold, and bones. Charlemagne is all over the place, literally. Here a femur, there a tooth, it seems that the highest honor that could be bestowed on someone on the Middle Ages was to desecrate their grave and scatter their bones about for public display. Our tour guide seems far more enamored with the various relics than we are. The real attraction for them seems to be what comes after.

After the tour we are let loose upon the Aachener Weinachtsmarkt for two hours. I end up with three canadians, an Australian, and a New Zealander, and we spend most of our time standing around talking about Germany in the cold. We are generously allowed to drink one (and only one) Gluhwein (a warm spiced wine that is the German drink of the season), so we drink that, and wander a bit more. I buy some gingerbread cookies, which taste strongly of anise but are good, and worry about my toes falling off. It's a wonderful 5° Celsius out, and I really should have packed thicker socks.

Somehow, in all this, we miss going into the actual Aachener Dom. It's smaller than a lot, (The Kölner Dom, for instance, is absolutely towering. Germans build cathedrals pretty simply, but imposingly massive.) but supposedly amazing inside. I'll have to go back for that. But we are all counted, and put on a bus (Rotex transportation procedure here is to use public buses with a group ticket- efficient, but I pity the others taking their daily commute when thirty loud exchange students get on the bus occupy every available space, talking raucously in English, Spanish, Portuguese, and even German.) going out on the outskirts of Aachen to an ice skating rink.

There are already plenty of people on the ice, mostly beginners and kids with parents, so things are slow. But I have barely skated before, so I like it that way. I had worked out beforehand how skating should work using my memories of roller skates, but am unprepared for the roughness of the heavily-skated ice and the fact that ice skates have no brakes. Nonetheless, I give it the 'ol college try, and manage to get effectively mobile, only falling four times. Some people are amazing, though. Reeta, the girl from Finland, for instance, literally skates circles around me. And then skates backwards in front of me. "Canada" (there are three Canadians, but only the guy from Quebec gets called that, go figure…) skates interestingly, accelerating quickly and breaking by scraping one skate perpendicularly behind him. Is this some hockey style?

Our time at the ice rink is lengthened on account of Zamboni (here's a riddle: if a watched pot never boils, does watching an ice rink make it freeze over quicker?) but eventually the fun comes to an end, and we head, exhausted, back to the Gym for abendessen and the traditional dancing and generally avoiding sleep. I hurt in places I didn't know there were muscles, so my dancing is short-lived, and I find in a corner pretty much the same group from the Weinachtsmarkt. We talk about everything: Canada, Germany, exchange students, life in Germany, the sadly impending departure of the group from the southern hemisphere, etcetera. I never seem to run out of interesting topics around other exchange students: we all share so many experiences, like being exchange students and outsiders to the German culture, that we could talk about it for days. Eventually, though, Kaya and Reeta end up getting up and starting an insane game of basketball with a football. This looks like fun, and so I join. When an American plays basket-football against a Canadian and a Finn, who wins? Everybody, that's who.

Eventually we get tired, go outside, find a mouse, and return to the talking circle. We talk some more, and it's suddenly three in the morning and everyone else has basically stopped, and our voices previously loud in order to talk over the music have become the loudest things around. This is about where I drop off to sleep, in the traditional sleepover method: waiting for someone else to show signs of going to sleep first, so you aren't the only target for whatever might seem fun after 3 in the morning.

Sunday morning is just cleaning up. We wake comfortably at nine to "Michelle" by the Beatles. (Much more comfortable than blared showtunes or metal, 5130 Rotex.) We pack up remarkably efficiently, and hang out until my host father comes to pick those of us from Bad Neuenahr up.

But I wanted, I started to tell you about St Nikolaus. I got home from this amazing weekend, showered and rested a bit, and was informed that it was St Nikolaustag, and the Großeltern were coming for dinner.

Of all the things I am lucky to have here, I am perhaps luckiest to have a wonderful first host family, complete with "Gastgroßeltern". They have been wonderful to me, helping me with my German, taking me to and from Rotary meetings (Grandfather is the Rotary member in the family) and most importantly, making me feel welcome at family gatherings. Even though I am abut to switch host families, I intend to keep visiting them on and off. They came by Sunday with another Jahnen sibling, who lives in Berlin normally, then took her to the airport and came back for a light St. Nikolaus abendessen. But before dinner came gifts from St. Nikolaus.

This is the way St. Nikolaustag works in the Jahnen household. Plates are placed outside the door, then everyone goes back inside and the readings and other festivities happen, then the kids look outside, and suddenly there is candy on the plates! I have no idea how it happens. I was able to see my hostmother and father the whole time. There must be some kind of contract with the neighbors or something.

I was pleasantly surprised by the candy assortment I got. I was expecting milk chocolate, things I don't like to eat, another unappetizing pile of generic sweets like usually happens on Halloween. But I got dark chocolate and some coconut things; candy I really like. And it dawned on me: My host mother (or father) picked those because they knew what I like. I have new family.

More Graphiness

Yes, I am doing it again: Inspiration struck tonight, and I put together another quick illustration of my language progress before it could slip away from me.

Fall Foliage

Okay, I'm trying something new. I'm not going to write up anything lengthy here, but this is my new flickr album, with comments on most of the pictures. It follows a walk I went on with my family a week ago, when the forests were at their goldenest. Enjoy.

David Loring: Halloween expert.

So, a couple of days ago, at a Pfadfindern (kinda like boy scouts but with girls and continuing membership after 18... I've been meaning to write something about them.) I was asked by one of the guys if I wanted to do an interview for radio about Halloween in America. I said "yes, why not" in the reflexive manner I have developed here, and so last Wednesday I asked my host mother to drive me to the "Haus der Jungend" and made a live interview for Radio 1ahr. here it is:



Now the disclaimers: Radio 1ahr is not a radio-waves radio station, but a little internet-radio site, really more of a show. They do a two-hour show every two weeks on wednesday, with music, news, a couple of dj-types who talk nervously, and sometimes special topics. It starts at 18:00 local time, I believe, if you wanted to listen. This is just my interview, but I have the whole thing, and if people want to listen to it, just comment. In fact, comment even if you don't want to hear two hours of low-bitrate music and talking, because I like getting comments and they keep me posting new stuff to this blog and that's good for everyone, right?

A test of an new way of displaying images using some pictures I took.

Edit: I removed the widget because it starts automatically, and the idea of a page full of slideshows, all loading automatically and lagging everything within sight is just too horrible to contemplate. Anyone know a good system for embedded slideshows that doesn't load automatically like that? Or a way to get blogger to hide stuff on the main blog page?

Here is the flickr album, for those interested.

German Customs Law and Peanut Butter Balls.

So, some weeks ago, my parents sent me a package of various things. Top of my list was reeds for my oboe, which are ridiculously expensive in Gemany, and my reed-working kit, which I don't really know how to use, but would in theory allow me to make them better. My mother added to these some random things, like gloves and my nice Rotary sweatshirt, which I had forgotten, and yet more pins for exchanging. I now have over two hundred pins for a district of maybe 75 exchange students. I'm making friends, but not that quickly!

The best thing by far promised in this packet, though, was the peanut butter balls. Peanut butter balls are a strange snack made of peanut butter, oatmeal, and honey mixed together into a sort of dough, than rolled in coconut flakes. Very simple, and absolutely delicious. Strangely, though, I hadn't had any in years. They were a common feature of my preschool days, but had been somehow forgotten about as the years went on. Now that I'm in Germany, my mother seems to be remembering all sorts of cool stuff.

This is all great, but instead of a package arriving punctually last week, we received an envelope telling us that the package was in Koblenz, and would be returned to sender if we did not visit it within the week and pay a tariff of 19% on it's stated value of $150. What was up? Are peanut butter balls a restricted substance in Germany?

A phone call (made, thankfully, by my host mother) cleared things up. My package was supposed to be considered a gift, but due to the high labeled worth, the customs people had a look inside. Inside, they saw the pins. "Hmm..." they thought to themselves "who gives 100 identical pins as a gift? This David Loring fellow must want to sell these California pins without having to pay import tariff, and undercut good German california-pin businesses!" and so they held on to it.

All was not lost, however. My host mother was able to explain the concept of a rotary blazer, and pin exchanges, to the customs man on the phone, and he agreed that it sounded like a real gift, and would look inside with us when we got there and re-estimate the value, probably under the 45 euro tax-free threshold. And today, I drove with my host-Grandparents to the office in Koblenz, and retrieved my booty.

Rheinishces Freilichtmuseum

Yeah, that's a mouthful. Basically, this was a bunch of typical traditional houses from the Rhine regions of germany organized into "villages" by area and spread out on top of a forested hill. It was a lot more interesting than it sounds.



The houses were all this "fachwerk" construction, some whitewashed, some not.








The interiors were really dark, and really small. I wasn't able to take many good pictures of them, but the were what you's expect: unfinished, irregular, and, above all, tiny. Winter must have been a pain.







This is a house form further north on the Rhine, where it gets flatter and wetter and the wind always comes form the same direction. I admire the way these houses were transplanted. They even planted the traditional tree windbreak (left, out of the picture) for this house.

Some of the other intrepid adventurers, presented in tryptich.

Here, from right to left we have Vedashree, who just kinda jumped into the pretty window picture I was photographing and made it even prettier; Johanna and the french girl who stayed with us for two weeks, and whose name I can't remember, together with Vedashree; and signe, uh... scratching her nose. With her middle finger. She doesn't like getting photographed.

More pictures for your enjoyment

P.S: There are more things I have photographed in the past month. I have vacation these next two weeks, so you'll be seeing more of this.

Pictures From Grafschaft

I recently discovered Germany is really pretty. At least where I am. I just went out one evening on a borrowed bicycle with my camera. By sunset I had a flat tire and many megabytes worth of photos, some of which are good.

There are a lot of horses here.

Also, lots of power poles, which is not a problem because I think they make interesting subjects.

It was a good sunset.

Here are the rest of my photos.

Mark twain on German

I found this the other day. Mark Twain is incredibly hilarious:

Personal pronouns and adjectives are a fruitful nuisance in this language, and should have been left out. For instance, the same sound, sie, means you, and it means she, and it means her, and it means it, and it means they, and it means them. Think of the ragged poverty of a language which has to make one word do the work of six -- and a poor little weak thing of only three letters at that. But mainly, think of the exasperation of never knowing which of these meanings the speaker is trying to convey. This explains why, whenever a person says sie to me, I generally try to kill him, if a stranger.

Here's the rest of the essay.

Progress Report

This is a little thing I wrote more for Rotary back home than the blog, but it's no secret, so I'll put it here too.

The honeymoon is definitely over. Summer is over, and the rapidly shortening days have shut the door firmly on further warm weather. My German, though adequate for the purposes of everyday conversation, doesn't allow me to really read the book in German class or give me voice in a discussion in Ethics. My throat hurts, and I hope it isn't the swine flu. In short, every day has ceased to be better than the last. You warned me this would happen.

But don't worry too much. Even the darkest days are shot through with little moments of brilliance. Maybe it's some combination of song and scenery on the bus ride to school, maybe a beautiful configuration of the ever-changing clouds. Some days it's a good conversation, another word, another piece of the German jigsaw puzzle. Whatever it is, I seem to catch a lot more of it here than before. Being in a foreign land really gets your brain going on new directions, changes the way you think. That's another thing you told me.

Thanks for everything,

David Loring

This is a passage from the book I am reading in German class, Der Sandmann by E.T.A Hoffman.I have in general had a lot of trouble with this book, because it's old, thick German prose, but it is pretty dang awesome. Take this passage, where the Sandman fable is told. I did the translation, so sorry about that.

"I asked the old lady, whom my youngest sister waited on, who this Sandman was. 'Oh, child,' said she 'don't you know? He is a bad man, who comes to children who don't go to bed and throws a handful of sand in their eyes, so that their eyeballs jump bloodily out of their heads, which he gathers in his sack and takes up to the half-moon to feed his children, who sit there in a nest and who have owl's beaks, with which they pick the disobedient childrens' eyes out.'"

Awesome, oder?

Observation From Weinfest

The only difference between a drunk German and a sober German seems to be a slightly increased proclivity to sing.

First Amendment Instincts

I had figured in advance that I would have to suppress a few habits and instincts here in Germany. My instinct to speak the language I know best was the obvious one, with my tendency to be slightly shy around new people and to speak up without thinking also being considered. But you can't predict everything. And an instinct I didn't notice existed has become the largest creator of bitten tongues in my life here.

You probably haven't noticed it either, but chances are, if you're an American and at all politically conscious, you have what I have. I call it my “First Amendment Instinct” and it activates whenever I see or read about a breach, of letter or spirit, of the first amendment to the US constitution. It elicits in me an immediate raising of the hackles, and a warming of the rhetorical bombasts that, in the US, would be used to knock the offending idea back into the stone age. Fortunately, here in Germany the language barrier reminds me not to speak my mind, so no real outbursts have occurred.

But this reflex is being called into action more often than usual here. This is because Germans have no First Amendment Reflex. They have the freedoms allowed by it (mostly... but more about that later) but they don't have the prickly, defensive, slippery slope mentality about them that most Americans do. They don't view the government in the same what-could-go wrong light that Americans of both parties do. (though often on different issues)

An example: Every German has a “Personalausweis”, or personal identification card, that is used much like a driver's license, for alcohol age control, but also a bit like a Social Security number: It identifies you for all your interactions with the state and banking system. Systems like this have been proposed from time to time in the US. One may be moving forward now, for all I know. They are incredibly controversial, seen by the civil-liberty minded as an unforgivable attack on privacy. Yet German 16-year-olds are extremely eager to get one, because it means they have the ID necessary to go to bars and drink. “Why don't they see the danger too‽‽” the civil libertarian part of my brain keeps screaming, thankfully in English

The example that finally got me talking to my host family is more central, though. There are in Germany, like every western European country now, extreme right nationalist anti-immigration parties that advocate all sorts of dumb things: Closing the borders to immigration, reducing freedom of the press, racial discrimination, etcetera. In Germany, of course, several of these have taken on the trappings of National Socialism, taking up the forbidden(ish) symbols of the bad old days, the “Hakenkreuz” and such. There are people who talk the exact same nonsense in the US, probably a good deal more, but they never get to say anything because our two party system keeps all but the most mainstream out of power. In a parliamentary country like Germany, (or pretty much the rest of the democratic world) though, they have maybe a seat in the parliament, and thus a (small) seat at the table.

Now, in the US, I, and certainly some of you derive a sort of masochist pride reading their tracts, because though it's complete filth, and I oppose it completely, they have the right to say what they want, and I'm proud of that. That's not the feeling in Germany, according to my completely representative sample of a conversation with my host mother and the elder sister, who's back from Madrid. There is a process of some sort in Germany for banning a political party, and they wish that the government would get on with it and ban these intolerant apes (not their words) for advocating the removal of constitutional rights. People in Germany seem to have the freedom to say anything – except to advocate curtailing that right. This is an interesting concept: In the US, do you have the freedom to advocate the removal of freedom? In the US, this has never been seriously tested, since we have never had room for enough parties for those types of bigots to form their own. But my First Amendment Sense is tingling, and it says: Yes! Freedom of speech cannot be abridged without clear and present danger – and I mean clear and present!! Step away from that book pyre!

So how do the Germans do it? How do they live a free and happy life without continuous protective bombastic volleys against the encroachments of the state? It talked a little bit to Ryan Knight about this, and his response was this: Having seen Fascism nearly within living memory, and though opposing it totally, they can comfortably give their government more power without worrying. they know what fascism looks like and this isn't it.

I like that explanation, thought I think there's more to it: I will leave you with my succinct observation on the German people, one that I think I will be coming back to in subsequent posts: Germans do less stupid shit.

Goodnight and good luck,

David Loring

Burg Eltz

Edit: I forgot to link my Flickr set: here.

Burg Eltz is a castle. A Real castle, that sits on it's hill with an "Go on, try and invade me, just try" look on it's massive stone face. It's in a valley, with excellent vantages over the castle, which confused me at first as to how it could be a useful fortification, until my host father told me that it was beyond the effective range of most medieval weaponry. Which is apparently pathetic. That didn't stop someone from trying, though. On a commanding promontory above the castle is a
crumbling wall-all that remains of a fortress built as part of an unsucessful seige of Burg Eltz.

This reminds me. German students take note: "Schloss" is only the right word for fancy-schmancy "castles" like Neuschwanstein. The word, at least where I am, for real, medieval fortresses is "Burg". Frau Bird, is this not true in Peine?

I have some photos of the outside, but they wouldn't let us take pictures inside. This was really a tragedy, because the inside was amazing. There was all kinds of original furniture, and the celing and walls were painted in most wonderful ways.

But the craziest thing was that the castle is still in family ownership. That's right. The family Eltz, which built the castle, and lived in it through all the sieges and stuff, still exists and owns it thirty-three generations later. Longer than the history of the US, than even of western presence in America. Insane.

Shameless Publicizing

The other american exchange student, Signe, also has a blog now: She even mentions me! Read her well-written and -organized post as an instructive contrast to my unformed blob of words down there.

Here, a link: http://amiexchanger.blogspot.com/

Edit: I forgot my pictures: here.

A day in the life

Today was insanely hot, 36 degrees! (Celsius, of course. Who's this Fahrenheit you speak of?) I spent the morning doing nothing much, eating breakfast, then retreating to my room to not-be-on-a-cultural-exchange for a few hours. Then, 'round when FOMO* kicked in, it was time for lunch, then german lessions with the Frau Pfeist. Nothing new, really basic stuff, but it's fun to hang out with Signe, the other American and the only other exchange student here at the moment, and I learn stuff just by talking German to Frau Pfeist. Then, Signe and I got a ride from Frau Pfeist (everyone here is so nice about being our personal taxi service while we are getting things together!) in to the old walled part of Ahrweiler. Beautiful old buildings, an almost complete old city wall, delicious marzipan gelato... But Signe doesn't yet speak german nearly well enough to get by, so I spoke english and we played the american tourists, in our own little language-bubble. At about five we had the bright idea to walk down to the school, kind of between Bad Neuenahr and Ahrweiler, and check it out. My, was that a long walk! But the Ahr is pretty, and it was enjoyable despite the heat. We had told Signe's host father to pick us up at the school, and when we got there he invited me over for dinner. My new SIM card came today, so I called my host mother and cleared everything. (in german, of course. I'm actually pretty proud of that.) the family Gaudian has an amazing house, with all sorts of art in it, and i'm going to enjoy living there in six months or so. (they're my third family.) The father is fascinating. He is a representative in the Stadtrad, a kind of city council except with more people, I think, and is part of the Green party. The ride there was devoted to a long spiel, the kernel of which was that the Germans were dumb to tear down all their old buildings in the 50's and 60's, and that, because the german population is decreasing, there's no reason to build more single-family homes. For the benefit of Signe, mostly, we spoke english, and he speaks excellent english, so after dinner (which really is small in Germany, just like another breakfast), I was able to engage in some serious conversation. We talked about the environment, about the "cash for clunkers" program and it's ancestor in germany and how they weren't really ecological, because they created so many new cars, and about how we fit into the world in general. It was fun to really discuss things for the first time in weeks; I spend all my time right now on just being understood, and relish the small victories, but it isn't the same as a good conversation.

By the time I got home, the heat had brewed up a thunderstorm somewhere to the west, and so we cleared the terrace and watched the lightning as it rolled lesiurely towards, and eventually around, us. It was a great day, not so good for my integration, but really pleasant. Things are really interesting here.

*FOMO: Fear of Missing Out

Next up: Some pictures of a cold-water geyser I visited, but have been to lazy to deal with. Yes, a cold-water geyser. All will be explained.

Conversation Graph

I have been seeing a lot of my extended host family this week. For some reason, the Jahnen family has a huge number of birthdays in August, so I have met all my host-aunts and -uncles and cousins and grandparents and etcetera. It's been pretty fun, but occasionally stressful on my German- actually, forget occasionally, all the time! So, based on my experiences, I present the highly scientific conversation-graph!

Just click to read, folks!

Picture Time!

DSCN0562.JPG
Originally uploaded by David T.H. Loring

My Host family!

The rest of my pictures from ther Rhein valley are here:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/davidthloring/sets/72157621904362331/

Daily Difference: Highways

(these probably won't be daily, but the title has Added Alliterative Appeal.)

The first and most obvious difference between the German Autobahn and our own battle-scarred highway system is the famous lack of speed limits on it. This is, like so many famous facts, not technically true. There are parts of the Autobahn that have no speed limit, but also parts with strictly enforced limits. But there are other differences between the two. First, the highway is not the only way to travel around Germany. In places the trains parallel the Autobahn. This means that teh Autobahn is not filled with random drivers just trying to go to the next town like in the US. There are three main classes of drivers on the Autobahn: First, and most numerous, big freight trucks, carrying stuff that the freight trains aren't efficient for, like fresh fruit and vegetables. Then people, like my host family, with stuff to transport or a big family. Third, but by no means rare, are the middle-aged men with good cars who drive places because they like to drive. Often the fast lane is filled with these fellows, and occasionally someone in a black Mercedes or convertible will blow by at insane speeds.

Also, the Autobahn isn't quite speed limit free because of the sheer amount of road work that goes on. From Frankfurt to Vettlehoven, a drive of an hour and a half we passed more than five repair projects. These don't have nearly the effect on traffic that they do in America, though, because the Germans are incredibly clever about rediriecting traffic. They will paint new yellow lines over the white ones to divert traffic from one lane to another, put down little portable stoplights to control traffic, and to provide a route arund one project on a street by my house, they paved a gravel farm road, complete with little paved cutouts so that cars can pass each other! I don't know how much all this costs, but let me put it this way: if they can afford to keep their roads looking like this, it's no wonder that they're not worried about the cost of healthcare!

The David Has Landed

I got on the plane in San Fransisco at 7:00 in the morning, local time. I got off another plane at 8:00 in the morning, local time. It was the shortest and longest trip of my life. When I got to Vettlehoven, after an hour and a half drive from Frankfurt, my family sat down to breakfast, and, more than a little confused, I sat down as well, and ate my first german "Fruhstuck", with my body telling me it was a midnight snack and the morning sun shining.

But things here have been excellent. My four years of German mean I can understand what people say to me, and even hold up my end of a conversation, albiet haltingly. Thank you Frau Bird! All the funny things that you say, like "Klein aber Fein" that a thought were just Frau Bird-isims, people actually say! My accomdations are also excellent. My room here is bigger than my room at home, actually, and my host family, Thomas Jahnen, Andrea Jahnen, and Fransiska Jahnen are incredibly nice, and considerate of my very basic german. I met the son, Mathias Jahnen, but the day after I got there, he went off to his own exchange in Syracuse, New York. Nice and symmetrical.

Yesterday, after another trip to the airport in Frankfurt, we took a long senic detour and came up the Rhein valley at its narrowest area. Now the Rhein is never narrow, and even at its narrowest it is wider than any river in Humboldt. But its valley is quite impressive. And on either side of the Rhein there are old castles. We saw more than a dozen in the whole trip. Everything here is so old! I was talking to my family about the Carson Mansion, and how it is a really historic building in Eureka, and I said that it was built in the 1860's or so, and they laughed, and pointed to a random building that said "im 1600 Gebaut". Europe is so old!

I met the other exchange student from america that is going to be in school with me. She's from Getteysburg, Pennsylvania, and she's named Signe, but I didn't ask such personal questions as "what's your last name?" She sings, and plays four instruments, so we will likely have many of the same classes. But she has only one semester of german, so this is a lot harder for her. Talking to her as we went and got our bank accounts and visa papers, I discovered something: It is really hard to switch from English to German. When I speak one or the other only, it's easy to remember words and grammar, but using both is really confusing and tricky, and I forget which one I am using to whom. I have installed german on my laptop for that reason, and I will probably not speak much to you english-speakers, not because I don't want to, but because it's becoming difficult!

Bis Später!

"My bags are packed, I'm ready to go"

So, this is my antepenultimate day in eureka. Yes, that's just a fancy way of saying"the day before the day before the last day". I have a decent idea of what I need for Germany, and I have most of it. I also have a decent amount of money, thanks to the painting I have been doing. But I barely know who my host parents will be. I have emailed them, and they seem nice. The mother runs a daycare form the house, and the father makes machines to control the world. (At least that's what the email said.) But I haven't seen any pictures of them, and have only satellite pictures of where I am going. Should I have to parachute out to their house, I could do that easily, but I don't know who's picking me up at the airport. This it actually kind of fun. Am I crazy?

Pertinent web accounts

Apart form this blog, I have a flickr account at www.flickr.com/davidthloring, where the lion's share of the pictures will be going. Blogger's 1gb storage limit chafes at me.

This is a great picture I took in Trinidad at night, uploaded as a test.

First Post: Is this thing on?

SO... I have a blog. I can put stuff on it. You will probably see many posts from Germany, as that is where I will be all next year. Photos, as well. TTFN!