Amsterdam

So now, a post is long overdue. First order of business is Amsterdam.

Mittwoch:

- Arrived at Schipol, took the train into Amsterdam Centraal Station
- Walked around and explored Old Centre
- Had a capuccino and scone at a delightful café
- Went to the Anne Frank Huis... cried
- Had tapas at a Spanish restaurant
- Roamed the Red Light District
- Saw Slumdog Millionaire in English, Dutch and Hindi in the famous Tschunski Theatre (beautiful and art deco).

Donnerstag

- Flowermarket, Dutch pancakes and mint tea
- Exploring from Old Centre to Museum Quarter
- Van Gogh Museum, "Colors of the Night" exhibit
- Coffee & ridiculously over-priced triangle of a sandwich, then an organic market
- Art bookstore! Hours of reading, walking, people-watching
- Brownie and such at a Coffee Shop
- Thai food!!

Nice memories:

- German conversation in bookstore with clerk/owner, whose mother was a German teacher.
- Colors of the Night audio tour - heard van Gogh's correspondence and comments on paintings... was that Ralph Feinnes speaking?

Birthday:

- JORDAAN
- Exhorbant amount of galeries
- Book store
- Exploring of Jordaan area
- Indian food!

Samstag:

- Bike Tour
- through city, along Amstel River, into country, windmill, cheese & clog farm/makers,
Hilton where Yoko and John stayed and had peace conference, random sights.
- Albert Cup Market
- colors, beauty, food, people-watching, noise and potent smells
- walking around, getting another view of Amsterdam (how minorities and poor live)
- Reading in a café, writing

Good mental image: small children sitting in a bakfiet filling their cheeks with air.

One day I shall live in Amsterdam.

Letter in Café Ignaz

I wrote a letter to a friend while sitting in a café that accurately describes my current mood and outlook. As such, it the content also seemed fitting for a blog entry. Please excuse any redundancies, like the mentioning of Amsterdam and Barcelona.

21.02.09

Dear Sandra,

I am sitting in Café Ignaz, a vegan restaurant/café here in Munich (there are three really delicious and well-known vegetarian restaurants, the others are most likely also good, but less popular) with a GIANT latte. I feel like a toddler sipping a large glass of milk with my PB & J sandwich, as I have to hold the glass in both hands so as to avoid disaster. While walking here, I saw my professor with her son and husband. The kid is about two and, like all small creatures (dogs included) in the city right now, he was bundled up in a snow suit and barely capable of walking due to all the padding and fabric. It was like that scene in A Christmas Story - the little brother [drawing here].
It is a bit strange being here on my own, I suppose. It is turning from late afternoon into evening, and the place is shifting more into a dinner mood. I don't mind, though. I will just sip my oversized glass and update you on the oh-so-fascinating state of things in my life. Yesterday I finished up a short internship at a Montessori school here, working as an assistant teacher and English instructor.
So now I really understand what you were talking about when you expressed how working with the kids at ACAP was often more enjoyable than your work at the art studio (100 Monkeys??). I hadn't worked in a class setting for neurotypical kids since before ACAP, so my perception was different. Now, however, I see. The kids at this school were great and mostly charming, but the brattiness factor was not minimized by the fact that their parents had sent them to a 'progressive' school.
At ACAP, I would just ask a kid to do something and he would either react negatively, which required an intervention (that was logical and practical) and was probably bound to happen anyway, or the child would just do what I asked. It's a difference in how you, as a teacher/authority figure, are treated, and in this way, many autistic children (or those whom I have met/worked with - small sample size, I know...) are unknowingly far more respectful. Christopher [our boss] said it once, how these kids do not lie - not because they are morally superior, etc., but because it is not seen as a viable option. Why lie? Therefore, they are more honest.
Ok, rampant generalizations aside, the internship was good, and it was really challenging because my reaction time in German and ability to produce an intstructive, concise sentence at the blink of an eye is considerably slower than in English. Still, I feel that I was effective and bonded a great deal with the kids.


This week I will write my psychology paper, which I haven't been worrying about as much as I ought to. I wrote a 20 page paper in German for a literature course, so my confidence in writing in the language shot up. Now, a 10 page psych paper that is pretty much just a summary of the course and articles is far less daunting, although it is in a foreign language. I don't know exactly which psychology courses to take next semester, if any. Four or five more are required to graduate, so I could feasibly do this back in Portland. But personality psych or psych of gender could be fascinating here.
Oooh Sandra, I just returned from the bathroom here and have to share with you the obscene amount of kitsch. Are you ready? So beyond a baby pink door adorned with a ceramic sign with "Ladies" spelled out in cursive, there is a collection of fake orchids in a vase strangled by plastic ivy. On the walls, there are old-fashioned prints of cupid and roses that look like Valentine's Day stationary. There are also small black and white flower photos which could be classy if they weren't streaked with water stains from the people who failed at drying their hands. The grey tile walls are randomly painted (every fifth one or so) with happy little trees and bird shapes, and in the corner is a small wiry statue of a large woman that could pass as a mini coat rack. Oh, it was glorious. So unexpected, too! It's like finding out that a trendy friend of yours secretly collects porcelain figurines!
So, now you are somewhat updated on things, namely the apearance of a café bathroom in Munich. Right. I am leaving on March 4th for a four day trip to Amsterdam and on the 8th I will go to Barcelona. I will live there for a month, renting a room with a friend from Munich/the Ukraine and taking Spanish courses. I am excited to re-learn the language and finally feel comfortable enough with my German that I can do so.
So, as I will be away until April 6th, don't worry about sending a reply letter very speedily, but but I really hope to hear back from you!!
-Sarah

Books, bikes, travels and settling

Yesterday I finished Blankets, a graphic novel by the really talented young author Craig Thompson. My brother sent it to me specially from the US, as it is not so widely available here. I tried so hard to spread out the reading of it over a couple days! It was wonderful and the author/illustrator is one of my favorites. Thompson is from Portland but writes about his travels and his childhood in rural Wisconsin, it's really interesting and the drawings are beautiful. A shorter book of his is called Carnet de Voyage, about traveling in Morocco and France. I highly recommend it as initiation.

It has been snowing like crazy here, and I am definitely not used to the weather. There is a certain trait that I recognize in other Californians as well that allows us to pretend that we are capable of living in any climate. Yes, I grew up with no snow, but there was always Tahoe! It's this idea of being invincible that is helpful for quickly adjusting anywhere without complaining about environmental apsects that also tends to be problematic. The point of all this weather-related rambling is to say that I am very much unacquainted with the idea of freezing temperatures and picturesque but subtly cruel snow. I had been avoiding biking in the snow for the most part, as I don't have a functioning bike (flat tire, rusty and old frame, high up seat, etc.) and it is dangerous as hell. Yet after the third day of trudging for 20 minutes through the snow-covered Olympia Park to get to the school where I am doing my internship, I thought it would be a good idea to borrow a friend's bike. I even thought far ahead enough as to borrow a bike with thick tires instead of Emily's road bike that she gave me free reign over.

But then I fell. Hard. Less than 20 feet from my front door. This was after hours spent (with pliers and a dented knife, as the wrenches were all to big) lowering the seat and cleaning snow and muck off the bike. At this point it was way to late to go with the underground and I was starting to feel the continual five hours of sleep I had been torturing myself with for the last few nights. The bike was too big and the path was too icy. I tried... and failed. But! Instead of being ridiculous and getting up again to forge onward through the snow, I called it a day and gave up. I know, I know, this is not the O'Brien spirit and I would like to think that I don't give up so easily, which in my own personal history - with several exceptions in childhood - this is more or less true. I thought of a friend who was hospitalized after a bike accident just some months before, and in optimal weather. I wasn't wearing a helmet, like I would in Portland, and was therefore much more vulnerable. After shakily locking up the bike and calling my boss to let her know of my reason for absence, I went back to bed and slept for six hours, comforted by the idea that some battles don't have to be won.

The internship that I mentioned is going really well. I am an apprentice/teaching assistant in a Montessori school here in Munich. After day two, the kids were already hanging on my arms and begging me not to leave. Working with kids is always good for the ego! I am also proud of my ability to converse with them and the teachers in German, which I think is the main goal of this internship: learning to effectively do what I already understand but in a foreign language. It is also nice to be in an elementary school classroom setting, because the kids are learning things in their language that I can relate to, through once being a child myself and also through having recently learned German. The teacher and I were planning project ideas and I suggested doing a little informal English lesson. She was excited about this and when we mentioned it in circle, the kids were thrilled. Now I am contemplating ways to make it fun and interesting... possibly with cutting out and glueing images to correspond with verbs/adjectives.

I was in the teacher's lounge yesterday and couldn't help feeling as if I would be found out in a "hey Missy, you don't belong in here" kind of way. The age gap is such that I am closer in age to the children than the teachers, or at the very least exactly in between. It is interesting seeing how - I am also taking notes on all this for a potential developmental psychology research paper - the kids react to me both as an intermediary and a younger authority figure. I really love the Montessori method and have researched it a great deal. Being a Montessori kid myself (if even just for 3 years) definitely earns me points among children and teachers in the school alike.

Today marks the end of the first week of vacation, which lasts until April 20th. During February, I am completing this internship and writing my last term paper (due on the 28th) for my Thinking and Problem-Solving psychology course. On March 4th I will leave with two friends for a 3 day trip to Amsterdam, a city I am fascinated by. I will be there for my 21st birthday and am thrilled to experience the alternative bike and art culture. The day after I return to Munich, the 8th of March, I will leave for a month-long stay in Barcelona. A friend Ivanna and I will take Spanish courses a nearby school and take in the art museums, beaches, cafés and night life. I am especially excited about this month and the break from Munich. I love it here, but I do not want to get stuck in a rut.

It is great to be here while not under the stress of courses, papers and reading, and I keep remarking to friends that I found out more about the city, as far as orienting myself and discovering where I feel comfortable, in two days than I did in the 5 1/2 month long semester. This is not entirely true, of course, but the last several months have served as a framework and basic understanding of the city that is now finally being put to use in deepining my understanding of it.

Gut gelaunt

Lately I have been in high-stress mode with projects but extremely 'gut gelaunt' (in a good mood). I have been really active with my Landeskunde project and was at a Montessori school today scheduling an appointment for visitation. Next Wednesday I will observe a classroom for my project and also out of personal interest in the school structure. I also intend to ask after assistant or volunteer positions there, either as a native English speaker or general aide. I applied to a bilingual preschool a couple weeks back but have not received an answer. Following up is absolutely required here, not that it isn't in the rest of the world. I just see the German system as far more bureaucratic and less informal than in the US, in all regards.

A major source of fear, however, is the psychology presentation I will give this coming Monday. I realize I keep mentioning this... nerves lead to redundancy? Mostly I am in paralyzing shock which comes across as indifference, and also trying to comprehend the topic while imagining how I can avoid sounding like an idiot in German.

Today was gorgeous here. Between 23-42 degrees (we never have such extreme daily variations in Portland, do we?) but brilliantly sunny. I went for a long walk with a friend through Olympia Park, a large well-known park here. The Montessori school is situated nicely in the middle and we took advantage of the surroundings afterward.

Olympiapark im Winter. Photo credit: KWalk (flickr)

I am going to Amsterdam in March, as I mentioned in a previous post and as Facebook has broadcast all over everyone's newsfeed. This is thrilling and I cannot wait. I plan to also go to Copenhagen that month, and have been messaging with many couchsurfers in the area about the pronounced bike culture in both cities. Amsterdam also has three large art museums that I am eager to see, and I have become attached the city through literature, films, and an intuitive leaning toward its sophisticated quirkiness.

Someday I will learn to play the cello. For now, however, I must settle for listening to contemporary avant-garde string quartets (that such a phenomenon exists is glorious in its own right) and dreaming. I have been dancing again, just on my own, since the past few months. Es tut mir gut. It is good for me.

Ausländer in Deutschland

Ich habe ein interessantes Gedicht über Ausländer in Deutschland gefunden und wollte es hier notieren.

Ein Imaginärer Ausländer-Generalstreik in Berlin von Aras Ören

Die Dame im Café am Nachmittag will Kaffee und Kuchen haben aber die Tassen sind nicht gewaschen die Serviererin ist nicht da. Wo bleibt mein Essen etwas exotisch gut gewürzt und mal was anderes. Der „Dönerkebab"-Spieb dreht sich nicht auch der bunte Gemüseladen um die Ecke hat seit Tagen dicht gemacht. Der Patient wartet auf den netten Arzt umsonst der Alte im Krankenbett wird nicht gepflegt auch die Suppe in der Küche nicht gekocht. Die Müllabfur funktioniert nicht ganz die U-Bahnhöfe stinken. Berliner Export hat Defizit Kongrebteilnehmer aus aller Welt haben die Nase voll ihre Betten sind nicht frisch flinke Bedienung verschwunden. Wohnungsnot nimmt kein Ende Versprechen sind schön – wo sind die Bauarbeiter? Rentenkasse sucht dringend Zuschub weniger Beitragszahler, überall rote Zahlen Der letzt Ausländer macht alle Lichter in Berlin aus und geht. Der Grobbetrieb schreibt ans Werktor: Wir suchen Leute! Jeder Kanaker ist angenehm. Der Mann auf der Strabe schreit immer noch: Ausländer raus!

Dieses Gedichte erinnert mich an einen amerikanischen Film, der "Day Without a Mexican" heißt. Es war eine Parodie einer Dokumentation und ziegt wie Kalifornien ohne hispanische Immigranten wäre. Nach dem achten Antrag gegen gleichgeschlechtliche Lebenspartnerschaft in Kalifornien, haben viele homosexuelle Leute in "Day without a gay," einen Streik im ganzen Bundesstaat, teilgenommen.

Amsterdam

I shall be in Amsterdam for my birthday!



Oh how the actualization of travel goals makes me giddy!

Rückkehr

Last night I arrived back in Munich, half-heartedly unpacked one bag, devoured an obscene amount of chocolate-covered almonds and raisins and cooked dinner with friends. Winter break in Zürich proved very enjoyable, and I am astonished at how little English I spoke during the past two weeks. Typing in English to a friend on Skype was more difficult than it should of been and I had to sound out the words in my head for a few minutes before regaining my grasp on my first language.

Today I had my literature course and then an appointment with my professor afterwards, of course with time for a cafe break in between. I am still surprised by how unbelievably long the vacation felt, and I had an emotional happy moment in the train on the way back. I was listening to Bon Iver and contemplating so-called important topics, and it hit me really hard and very intensely, the realization that I have achieved one of my most important life goals. Learning German, being here, connecting very intimately with my family and with my heritage all solidify my Swiss and German identity. Learning and really loving both the language and culture, in spite of and in a large part due to the flaws, has taught me that understanding the ways in which a country is far from perfect is necessary. Being able to appreciate what said country offers after confronting this truth is what determines your opinion of it, and in turn its impact upon yourself.

Not having to constantly think before speaking German, being able to understand all the films, as well as many of the nuances and jokes has been very incredible. Less glorious has been accepting that I will never understand it all in the way that I do with English. It is not second nature, but it is feeling more natural. I am also over the surge of pride for being from the US that I experienced after Obama's election. It was really important to identify as an American and recognize the incredible and unique aspects of that culture while deciding that it was the one I felt most comfortable with. The happiness is still there, but the emotion has dulled down to leave room for other discoveries, other developments. I still identify as an American, but more strongly than ever as a Swiss-American.

My Oma left Germany in 1948, I learned. I thought it was 1945, directly after the war. However, she was trying to leave for a long time, and she ended up fleeing on a bicycle into the mountains as the Russians came. She lost her suitcase because the Red Cross ambulance that took it for her was blown up, as was her mother's expensive jewelry inside. She was then able to get on a train, but she wouldn't have been able to make it into West-Germany if the man next to her hadn't pretended that they were married.

I often hear the same stories from my Oma, and during my visit in October as well as the trip during freshman year, I began to learn more in depth about what she experienced. Yet it is all still very new because my Oma can speak beautifully and quickly in German. She can do this in English, too, but I believe she recalls more when we are already speaking German.

Eating vegetable soup, curried soy wurst and fresh-baked pretzels with cousins in Biberach.

I was also in Biberach, Germany, for a long weekend. I met a daunting amount of family members that I had never been introduced to before, as they were "angeheiratet" or related through marriage. They were shockingly cool, all vegetarian, super liberal, wonderfully sarcastic and well, German. I had never felt so at home in such a brief amount of time before. The whole experience left me with a vague desire to call out "You are my people!" I love the crassness that comes with large families, the unabashed discussion of politics, sex and death and the amount of love and support that is evident in the way family members gaze at one another. During that weekend I went ice-skating on the frozen lake, played a myriad of pseudo-personality divulging games, dined well, played with small children, gossiped with other young and older adults, talked politics, cooked a monstrously large and delicious vegetable soup, saw a film with a second-cousin and relaxed.

I have, as it were, become acclimated. The adjustment was insanely rapid and about 85% of it happened within the first three months, but that last 15% was as slow as molasses dripping and just now caught up.


White Light (Graves in Lee Vinging, Ca.) from greg olin on Vimeo.