Tuesday, March 23, 2010

On This Day...

Will we remember Sunday March 21, 2010 as the historic day that it was? After years of debate and contemplation, our leaders finally stepped up. They did what was right and what needed to happen. They gave us a chance, leveled the playing field so not only the wealthy are the winners. It’s a case of the have-nots being treated like the haves. And we deserve it.

No longer will we have to wonder from year to year, month to month, whether we will be supported or left without a backstop.

Both sides of the aisle could have been unhappy or too stubborn, and each side needed to make concessions. But with the goal in mind, they did what was necessary.

Those in charge stepped up and would not quit until the deal was done. They made clear that we are indeed heading in a specific and intentional direction. I will be anxious to see what the next step is, and what challenges will be tackled. It leaves me with a joyful feeling, and looking forward to seeing possibly eight fruitful years.

There is much work yet to be done, but yesterday’s deal lays the groundwork. Granted it was not cheap. There is a lot of money invested in this. And it is not without its risks. But it was the right time and the right people to make this historic event happen.

Tonight we can rest easy. The little guy won a battle against giants. Joe Mauer is a Twin for the next 9 seasons. Now, for the team’s sake, let’s hope that he stays healthy; I hear he’s covered at any rate.

Sunday, March 21, 2010

"Did that say what I think it said?"

When our plans to live in Germany were coming to fruition, one aspect of our stay was in the back of our minds and tantalizing our taste buds. This, of course, was the opportunity to eat Haribo Gummi Bears regularly. Haribo comes in six flavors in Deutschland: strawberry, apple, lemon, orange, pineapple, and raspberry. All of these are delicious. I enjoy the rainbow method of jamming multiple flavors into my mouth all at once. Although Haribo can be purchased in the States, the US version is made in Hungary. The original German version of this fruity treat is bouncier, gummier and simply better. It is my thought that the difference may be between the use of corn syrup in the US versus sugar in Germany, but I am not certain.

Recently, when looking to replenish my supply of these favorite snacks, I was horrified to find that although they were 10 euro-cents cheaper, the container held only 200 grams. This was 100 grams less than the 300 that had been offered previously. I refused to purchase this on principle, hoping to find the larger package in another location. I suppose it is another reminder of the capitalism that is spread across the world, not necessarily only in America.

Not everything, however, matches up perfectly when spreading ideas back and forth across the Atlantic. This is especially the case when English words or phrases are used. For instance one marquee we observed advertised eating at the restaurant to experience “The Spirit of Currywurst.” It is unclear what this entails, but it must be some magical sausage. Another is this photo of a tattoo parlor on the way to downtown Bad Oeynhausen.



Now, I have heard stereotypes that this may apply to Europeans in general, but have not found it to be accurate. I have not gone into the tattoo parlor, however.

Other types of phrases or pictures would not be seen in the US due to insensitivity. Is America too sensitive? I don’t know, I am used to the US’s standards and see the benefits of this sensitivity. I doubt, for instance, that there would be an establishment with this name.



I also doubt that this billboard, found in several train stations, would last long without complaints from several people. (This is an ad for a parenting edition of a magazine, with the girl saying "What now, dear parents!")



In the end, I will continue my search for Gummis in the original size. I did consider writing the company to complain and let them know that I was on to them, but I doubt that the company would offer me respite from my search. Instead I figure their response would look something like this.

Tuesday, March 16, 2010

Loving the Least

Though our new placements at the workshops have started, and they fit us well so far, I find myself still processing my experiences with the residence group. One of my favorite characters in Gruppe 4 was simultaneously obvious and shocking. Heinrich is an 87-year-old man. He has a tall but frail frame. His skin, once taught around muscle, sags in countless wrinkles all over his body. Some days he sports a sharp argyle sweater and classic hat, others one worn-out black glove. He slowly makes his way up and down the hallway choosing specific points to stop. He squats down to the ground and pulls his knees into his chest, then bows his head down to rest. A favorite place is just in front of the heater in one of the bathrooms. He is a quiet man, who speaks in muffled strings of incomprehensible words. He spends his days inside the complex depths of his mind, the mind of a schizophrenic. His schizophrenia is a special diagnosis, a result of war*. Heinrich was a Nazi - a sniper, to be exact.

I figured when we moved here that we’d make friends whose grandparents were Nazis or who knew a former Nazi at the least. The Nazis had a way of convincing ordinary people to come over to their side, after all. I did not consider that I might work with one directly. I was taken aback when my coworkers told me. I figured I would want to keep my interactions with him brief, that he would not be a spirit I’d like to be around and that I’d just stick to my job with him, but that plan didn’t work.

As I grew more comfortable around him, I found myself thinking about the beauty of our situation and the fortune time had allowed us. If we’d met not 60 years ago, Heinrich and I could not have graced the same room with assurance. My dad’s family was Jewish; I would have been in hiding. Only two generations later, I was blessed with the opportunity to choose compassion and to coexist with a person I would otherwise demonize.

I suppose his resulting disability made the choice of compassion a little easier. If he were fully cognizant, if we could debate politics and viewpoints, I can’t begin to pretend I would have been courageous. I also didn’t speak the word “Jewish” to him; I didn’t really feel it was necessary to throw that in the mix for him and felt that it would somehow cheapen my own process of finding love. His story attested to the power of reconciliatory love. Before his time as a sniper, Heinrich was a top student who spoke multiple languages and wrote many short stories. His disabilities arose purely from his time as a Nazi, and he moved to Wittekindshof in 1947 at the age of 24. His life in the community is, of course, ironic. Nazis sought to rid the population not only of Jews, but also of many other minority groups, including people with disabilities, as they were considered unable to contribute to society. Yet, their horrid exploitations and acts created the very people they loathed. Today, an ex-Nazi lives in a community once in danger of extermination, and he is cared for unconditionally. That is a healing and powerful love.

It’s a love I knew I had to be a part of to fully embrace my time in the group. One coworker, an older Russian German, gifted me with a book from the 50s. She said it was one of the first that she read when moving here and that she found the language level sufficiently challenging while not overwhelming. She also thought the subject matter would help – it’s about Lewis and Clark and Sacajawea, so she figured I would know the basic story. Well, I decided to start bringing the book to work with me and began asking Heinrich if he would like to hear a story. It was rumored that he enjoyed stories, but I hadn’t seen anyone actually sit down with him to read.

Each day, he seemed more excited to hear the story, until it almost seemed a given part of his day. After finishing in the kitchen or distributing laundry, I’d retrieve my book and find Heinrich squatting against the wall. He’d look up, touch the book, nod solemnly and stand to walk down to our regular seats on the couch. (This walk sometimes lasted as long as the reading itself, as he reached out with his shaking hand to touch every surface, high and low, along the way.) Reading to him became a favorite part of my day, my chance to share and connect with a man instead of alienating him and myself. The reading itself was a simple way to pass the time together, but he gifted me with patience as I occasionally corrected my pronunciation or hopped up to help another resident.

Of course, the subject matter may not have been his favorite – a co-worker once teased Heinrich by telling him I was an American. A fierce scowl spread over his face. Then he burst out laughing and patted my head. In times of clarity, he graced me with a sharp sense of humor. At his cloudiest moments, his gentle touch persisted. He seemed to remain in the world around him through his sense of touch, reaching out to feel all surfaces, all people. I could not approach Heinrich without his hand immediately reaching out to my arm, then face or ear or hair, touching first with his padded fingertips, then flipping his hand over to feel with the backside. His urge to feel things** controlled him, consumed his day, but his touch was one of ironic gentleness.

It was a strange reality to watch this man, once part of a terrifying and powerful regime, live one day to the next in such a fragile state. There’s the prospect of a “serves-him-right” attitude to find in all of this, but I think it’s not so much a stoic karma that I met in Heinrich (though I do believe in karma, in general). I think it was more a lesson in unconditional love. A Nazi taught me about love. Now that’s a crazy sentence.


*It is considered a condition unique from PTSD. In German, it is termed as a type of schizophrenia. I could not find the equivalent diagnosis in English.

**feel things literally, though there’s irony in this, too, that this literal urge arose after being so strongly forced not to feel emotionally.

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

A Day at the Museum



Along with the photos we took (see our new slideshow to the left, which links to our Picasa albums) we also took a few videos on our trip. Here are a couple videos we recorded while enjoying the Einbeck City Museum. Visiting the museum at 11 on a Tuesday morning meant that we pretty much had the whole place to ourselves, although we did come across an elderly couple…

Half and Half

With March beginning, we are just about at the midpoint of our stay in Germany. Many things are changing at this time. First, we have completed our graduate school applications and are eagerly awaiting responses to see where we will be for the next two years or so, and where we will be moving our scattered belongings, currently located from the Northwest to Southwest corners and out to the middle of the country, with no less than 400 miles between the closest storage point and school option.

We have also wrapped up our first of two three-month job contracts. Having spent November through February in residences, we are beginning our new experiences at structured workshops. This has several differences, many of which are benefits. During the winter we had exactly 2 shifts that we shared. We occasionally worked on the same day, but opposite shifts. Often, we worked on days that the other had off, which included Bryce working on weekends. This made plans with new friends difficult, and also placed us on separate circadian feelings (as in one being wide awake and energetic when the other was tired and calm). It did, however, allow time to complete a total of 12 graduate school applications, complete our taxes, read, practice harmonica, begin learning/polishing our German language, etc. Having half-time jobs in a small town during the cold and dark days of “the worst winter we have had here in 30 years,” provided ample time.

As the season begins to change, our shifting job means that we will have a shift with only day hours (8:30-3:30), we will have consistent work days (Mon, Wed, Thur) and, most importantly, we will have matching schedules. This will allow us to walk or bike to work together as well as share three-day weekends. These weekends will allow for short travels, as well as plans for longer ones when we take time off.

We are looking forward to using this accrued time, (15 days for half time/half year positions! America could learn a thing or two.) This will include three different periods of visitors. Any others interested? We are planning our jaunt around Europe for June.

In summary, the first three months included getting settled, grad school planning, starting/remastering German, meeting people and enjoying “getting/living away.” I would proclaim our trip a complete success if the next three include getting a hold of the language/polishing it to satisfaction, solidifying our new friendships, and traveling.

Separating these two phases, we began our travel by taking a week off between our two work contracts. We trained to three cities in Germany, Einbeck, Kassel and Duesseldorf. Because a blog about an entire week runs the risk of getting quite wordy, Bryce decided to recap our adventures with a list of some of the happenings. I do want to say, however, that being in Duesseldorf reminded me of the joys of living in a city where there are many places to go – and walkably so – and all in the midst of large crowds, and many languages and cultures. We saw large buildings, shady areas, and beautiful architecture and parks. I also observed friends who have been around each other for two years or so. They are comfortable and enjoy hanging out without a plan. They expect to do something for the weekend and be with each other. Basically it made me miss all of you…except Bjorn - not there yet.

And now for Bryce’s recap of our previous week:

Einbeck:
Toured the Einbecker Brauerei.
Drank good beer - Bock beer originates from here!
Admired the many timber-framed houses and imagined my life there as a flower shop owner on a cobbled street.
Appreciated the bike tube dispenser on the side of a building (like the cigarette dispensers often found here).
Went to a sweet town museum, which included a big permanent bike exhibit.
Walked along the old town fortifications.
Concluded that Einbeck is a perfect small German town well worth the visit.

Kassel:
Yanked on the doors of the Brothers Grimm museum, hoping the renovation signs were a lie.
Made fun of ourselves for choosing a city based on one museum and not checking to see if it would be open when we were in town.
Visited the exhibit from the Brothers Grimm museum at the train station, but it didn’t include any of their linguistic work.
Ate hummus (not available in German grocery stores) both nights at a super cheap and delicious Lebanese falafel restaurant.
Took a really really long walk to Wilhelmshoehe, the royal gardens of Elector Wilhelm. It was worth it.
Walked around a castle in the gardens.
Imagined how pretty the gardens are in the summer, as we looked at massive stretches of ice and frozen waterfalls.
Concluded that aside from Wilhelmshoehe, it’s pretty ugly for a European city. There are many cities with awesome parks plus more to offer.

Duesseldorf:
Stayed with Kathryn, a childhood friend who lives there. Awesome to see her.
Caught up with her after 7 years apart/met her.
Met her French boyfriend, and two of their good friends from Spain.
Talked about how very international our group was, all of us foreigners hanging out in Germany.
Ate Raclette.
Drank ginger hot chocolate and chili hot chocolate.
Walked a lot and saw the first shoots of spring popping from the ground as we passed through Volksgarten and Hofgarten.
Drank Altbier in the Altstadt.
Went to the top of the radio tour to get a good view.
Walked in various areas, like the Koenigsallee, which is famous for its fashion.
Saw a woman in a fur coat complete with paws dangling down her back and heads on her shoulders.
Stared at woman in fur coat.
Watched others stare at woman in fur coat.
Saw the Rhine River rise ridiculously high and wondered why it was rushing so violently.
Took the train home, and did arrive home after being rerouted and standing still for long chunks of time on the tracks.
Got home and turned on the TV to see that we were experiencing the eye of the hurricane.
Understood the Rhine.
Concluded that good times with good people make a great city all the greater.