Ja, wir haben es geschafft!

Everyone was too nervous to talk. It was the big moment, the one we'd all been waiting for, and everyone in the room was petrified with fear of the worst. It sounds negative, but after the last two elections, we weren't about to be too careful.

Downstairs, a gospel band was playing and singing, and everything was decked out in political colors. Red, white and blue, with Obama logos everywhere. Upstairs the atmosphere was a bit more informal, with the chatter of people sitting at beer hall tables and sipping cold drinks from the bar in the next room. CNN blared in the background, but the nervous banter made it impossible to understand the various predictions about the election outcome.

It didn't matter because we knew we would all have a few hours of nervousness to wait it out until we would know more. The day had been agonizing enough, having started it six hours earlier than the eastern voting population, and now we were drowning our jitters in Augustiner Helles and Schnitzel.
The first predictions came in slowly, first showing only 1% of Indiana's returns. By the time Pennsylvania had been called, we were all biting our nails and staying awake only on a mix of beer and adrenalin. The final pronouncement came at 5am, McCain's and Obama's speeches ended after 6:30am. Needless to say, where most Americans were out in the streets shouting or tucking into bed happily ready to wake up to a new world the next day, relieved that another vote counting debacle hadn't delayed the results until the wee hours, we Munich watchers were thinking "gee, it's hard being a politically committed expat." Those of us, like me, who hadn't taken the day off of work fought our way through the day in a euphoria-lightened sleep-induced haze. Some of us may or may not have napped on the floor during lunch break. But it was worth it. Oh boy, was it worth it.

fall breaks

Well, fall is here. And I mean full-blown fall. Rainbow foliage, lovely sunshine, chilling breezes, dried brown leaves whooshing below your feet. Fall in Munich is beautiful. When it's so fall-y. The sudden drop in temperatures just in time for Oktoberfest brought us beautiful foliage and stunning panoramas.

I spent the weekend in the alps, and boy oh boy, there are just postcards waiting to be made. Mountains dotted with rust toned trees, verdant green slopes blanketed with fallen leaves, but still the sunshine and the clear air enough to drink a bavarian beer in the open air.

In Buchenberg, the sun was shining and the ski-jumps that are so integral to the training of young (and mini) skijumpers were dusted with the traces of fall that we all so love. We took a long walk and the cow bells klanging accompanied us along our treck past plump red berried bushes and sun-sprinked hillsides dusted with such picturesque landscapes that I practically invisioned myself in that Robin Williams film where he walks through oil paintings. Van Gogh would have had a field day.

In Munich, fall is still stunning, if not somewhat dulled by the smoke and banter of a "bigger" city. When I climb the stairs out of the Ubahn every day, I am greeted by fall-tinted trees swaying in the wind and Cafes deciding whether to haul in their outside sitting and offer only a well heated interior or if they should deck all the hardy outdoor furnishings with fleece blankets and tempt cafe-goers with warm glühwein or spicy-warm fall teas with cinnamon and apples.

Oktoberfest is over but I drove by the Theresienwiese the other night and they are still dismantling the tents-- a bit of a somber sight, but then, we're all camping down for the long winter.

But not yet. I am preparing hardily for a festive halloween party with glowing jack-o-lanterns and costumed germans (i force them), a glutinous thanksgiving evening where i try to roast a turkey in my iffy electric oven and attempt to approximate cranberry sauce by using "johannesbeeren" currant jelly. I will enjoy those somber november months, before the air turns crispy and the cars frost over with drunken messages from wobbly teenagers on their way to the subway at night.

So there's still a pre-winter time. And it's not even "fall back" yet, where the evening hours are short and it's dark even before I leave my office at night. So I'm embracing the rainbow, crunchy, orange fall. Winter, you'll have to wait a bit.

fall

can't you see that it's just raining...

Last week was the Jack Johnson concert. And it was a beautiful day.. sunny, hot. I had spent the morning taking photos all over munich for my darkroom session on sunday and had a nice sunburn going on. But it didn't matter. We arrived rather early to get good spots and hung out until the concert finally started, around 8:30. Despite the long beer lines, we had a blast! And the music was great. And then it started. Omnious black clouds swirling around the stage. We thought it would pass but then BAM, lightening, and more, and then came the rain. CATS AND DOGS! We put our cheap fleece blanket over our heads and hoped for the best. But it didn't really stop. It let up a bit, only to start again 15 minutes later. And it just kept on pouring. But nobody left...they all just opened their umbrellas, pulled on their ponchos, or danced without in the rain.

The concert continued until one of the tech guys came out on the stage and announced that they were worried about all the lightening. They said they would stop the show for ten minutes, and then start again. At that point it started to really pour, and we decided to leave. But by the time we made it out the gates, the music was starting up again, and the rain was letting up! So we turned around and headed back. The ticket guy even asked for our ticket! Haha, as if we had been hiding for the past two hours in the bushes, getting soaking wet, so we could sneak in.

Boy were we cold but i still really enjoyed the last half hour, even though it started to pour again and we really got soaked. After the concert we headed for the train, which was a 15 minute walk anyways and with thousands of other soaking wet and freezing fans. Some had umbrellas, some had ponchos, some had even stolen a giant plastic banner from the concert. We made our way along underneath our soaking wet and heavy fleece blanket till we came to the tracks, which we had to cross. They were being controlled by police men who were lined up holding a rope. Of course they stopped letting people through two rows before us and we had to wait over 20 minutes while the trains went by and the policeman spoke through his loudspeaker, telling us to "stay calm"

The germans then all starting spontaneously singing, which is something that germans usually reserve for oktoberfest and soccer games. They sang "let's all go onto the green-white party bus" (the police car, in germany they are green and white) and "die mauer muss weg! die mauer muss weg!" (the wall must go! a famous historical chant from the days of the berlin wall) But really, the germans are very law abiding and all of the soaking wet young people stayed put, just like the policeman asked, until the trains were gone and the ropes were lifted.

Then we all made a run for it, to the station. Of course it was packed, and the first train that came was full to the brim and the windows were already fogged over. The next train was supposed to come in one minute, but then it switched tracks! Everybody tried to go back down the stairs to the other side, colliding with those running to the original train, and there was a huge jam. The train was late anyways and when it came we allowed ourselves to be smooshed inside by the mob. Finally, we got out 5 stations later at Ostbahnhof and shivered our way to our bus. But the concert was totally worth it...

conversations about the future

Today, i was wearing rainbow earrings. Beaded earrings, nice and long, nice and colorful. Native American style. The kids LOVED them. I had kids on my lap all day, touching my earrings. At lunch, the whole table came over. It was great. In what other job do you have people saying "emily, pretty earrings! can i play with them?!"

One girl was especially fascinated by my jewerly today. Somehow, she associated the attributed femininity with fertility, and blurted out the loaded question "do you have kids?!" The dialouge progressed as follows:

me: oh.. i'm too young
leonie: how old are you?
me: 24
leonie: oh. thats old.
me: yeah... but i'm not married.
leonie: why not?
me:well... i have a boyfriend, but im not married
leonie: would you marry him?
me: well i guess. if he asked me.
leonie: why?
me: because i love him
leonie: EWWWW. BLECCHHHHH.
me: hehehehe
leonie: why don't you get married?
me: hehe. i dunno. he hasn't asked
leonie: well why dont you ask DUMMY!
me: hehe. because. i cant afford a ring.
leonie: a ring! you dont need a ring. give him a flower! i flower's nice. Here, take this one. (gives me a flower)
me: hehe. ok.
leonie: (noticing my hesitance) ok. in five years. but then i get to be your flower girl!
me: ok!

I retold my mom this story on the phone. This was her response:

mom: where can i send her check? we've been waiting for these answers for months!

ah, kids and family. i'll miss my job.

germany flags, and more

So, the European Cup has begun, and all the Audis, Mercedes, BMWs and Volkswagens are driving around with one, two, or even three Germany flags flapping in the alpine wind. Then there are the bipolar fans. Combinations crazier than peanutbutter and pickles. The classic: Germany-Turkey. Germany-Italy, Germany-Croatia, and of course, Germany-Poland. These "multiflaggers" are the creme de la creme, my favorite part of the flag mania. Showcasing munich's multiculti diversity.

The kids in the kindergarten arent showing quite the same multiculti openness. Today, one kid had brought in a special face painting stick that automatically draws the germany stripes. Try that with the half moon of turkey! Within five minutes the kids were covered with flags. On their cheeks, foreheads, stomachs, collarbones, feet, hands, arms. My personal favorite were those who used the facepainting stick as lipstick, which, due to the black stripe at the top of the german flag, turned them into little mini (ehem) moustached germans. Shiver.

We did have one child come to the kindergarten today with two flags: germany and spain. When I asked her why she was such a spain fan, she answered simply "because it looks the most like the germany flag"

And who says that "Football" doesn't bring the world together :)

river revelry

Spring is here! Say the trees. And the weather is fantastic. Yesterday I pulled my "Isarmat" out of the cabinet (a foam mat to cushion against the notorious pebbles of the isar riverbank), stuffed it into a giant blue Ikea bag along with a blanket, pillow and some reading material, and headed off. Since I live a ten minute walk away from the "Flaucher", the isar's sunbathing and grill paradise, it didnt take long until i was strolling past the tiny beer garden hut and strolling out onto the "Flauchersteg", taking in the view of the river and small scattered islands of trees. The first island was a no-go for me--naked island as i call it, home to the most devoted of FKK sunbathers. The next few sections were mixed, so i picked a spot near a group of teenagers dressed in black and playing jack black on their guitars and spread out my goods.

Not a bad life, having time after work to read and doze... I enjoyed the muffled guitar chords and slept fitfully in the sun, every now and then reading a few pages of my book before drifting back to sleep. The flaucher is one of my favorite spots in munich, such a mix of mega fit joggers, super suntanned nudists, crowds of teenage grillers slugging river-cooled beers, families with small kids splashing about in the puddles, fishers casting into the current, and the occasional kajaker, riding the waves on the isarkanal. A good neighbor, that river.

A trip to the Bakery

It smells like bread, and flour is floating through the air. It can’t be anything else but a bakery. And that it is: Bäckerei Ziegler, and Herr Ziegler is leading us through the labyrinth of bread and Brezel baking. Each child has a baker’s hat on, and we’re all ready to be taken on a journey of delicious discovery.

Our first stop is the giant mixer. Herr Ziegler types a few keys and the computer communicates with the main flour storage unit, delivering us five kilos of flour within a few seconds. All the children wow as the flour is poured through a transparent tube into an oversized mixing bowl. This bowl travels to the next station, where the fluid ingredients are added to the flour, salt and yeast. Everything is kneaded with a giant dough hook. Then the finished dough gets fed into a dough cutting machine, which divides it into equal portions and then feeds it into, as the kids call it, “a snake rolling machine.” These snakes are normally thrown into Bretzel shapes by professionals, but today we are on the job.

Every child gets a dough snake. Everyone thinks about the story that Herr Ziegler told us about the slave who bought his freedom by creating a baked good through which one could see three sun, a seemingly impossible task made easy by the Bretzel’s three “windows. And we begin to cross and twist. Finally, we’ve completed 18 beautiful Bretzen which go through a Lauge
waterfall before being shoved into a hot oven.

In the meantime we visit the Sußgebäck division, and watch as a giant roller transforms a lump of dough into a 20 meter long sheet. This sheet is then cut into triangles by another machine and fed into a “croissant roller” which twists the triangles into perfect uniform horns. The chocolate ones have to be made by hand, explains Ziegler, as he hands out thin pieces of chocolate intended for the croissants to the children.

We make our way downstairs to retrieve our Bretzen from the oven. They look golden brown and perfect, and steaming fresh from the oven. Bäcker Ziegler gives each child a handmade Brezn’ and a drink and sends him on his way, but I stop. I’ve just had another one of those intercultural moments, and I thank him for his kindness. Now I know just how another traditional Bavarian food is made!

going to paris tomorrow

that's right..the city of loooooooooove for valentines day. And who better to take with me than my boyfriend...and my boyfriend's parents...

artur and i are treating his mom to a paris trip for her birthday. And Artur's never been there. And i'm living my dream of going to paris for the weekend. On a whim. wahoo!

berlin oh berlin

So the trip to Berlin was great. The first day was "tour" day and after Artur and I arrived exhausted on the 5-11am ICE train, we went and ate an amazing buffet brunch with everything imaginable for only 7,90 euros. Ah berlin is so much cheaper than munich. And then Michael chauffuered us around in his car for a few hours and told us all about berlin, including stops at kreuzberg with its fantastic view and the siegessäule, for its also fantastic view. Unfortunately, the pedestrian tunnel under the racing traffic island was flooded on one side, so it took us a while to get up to the top, but when we did, the views were commanding. The second day was "flea market day" and we took off for the antique markets at kupfergraben. After browsing the array of old DDR paraphenalia, cds, gas masks, babuschkas and china, we sipped some glühwein to thaw out and headed to a cafe to warm up, and then to a chocolate shop to eat chocolate ice cream and cool down.

Monday was then "badeschiff" day and we set off to bathe on the river spree... no, not IN the river, ON the river, on a half sunken barge that has been converted into a retro swimming pool. In the summer, the thing is just open surrounded by wooden docking, but in the winter, it's turned into a white bubbly creation by way of a plastic roof and includes two saunas and a bar. We spent three hours enjoying the mix of warm, cold, naked, dressed, and just plain crazy. An ingenious design.

the eye

Well, it's been a while. And lots has happened--- hospital visits, a trip home to Pittsburgh, my first set of finals at a german university--and the beginnings of my first "container vegetable garden"

But now i'm back on my feet and ready to write again. I'll start with the story of my companion from Azerbaijan in the hospital. During my stay in the intensive care unit, I had a neighbor, a bed neighbor, that is. In between IV changes and doctors visits, I noticed that she was having trouble communicating with the doctors. Strained attempts at English were made by the surgeons, but the nuns who did much of the care work just kept on speaking in their native Bavarian dialect. One day, when sister Fransiska was doing her "get up out of bed and move around" motivation rounds, I decided to pitch in. I translated the enthisuastic sister's instructions, relaying commands to breath deeply, stand up, cmon, you can do it!! Zoora, I learned was her name, looked and my with grateful eyes.

During our time "upstairs" in Intensive care, I became her translator. I thought a lot about how scary it must be to not understand anything the doctors say to you.. the whole thing was scary enough, as it was! In turn, Zooras sister, who was almost always by her side, would often fetch me water and pick things up that I dropped--the kind of little favors I was more than thankful for at the time.

The day before I was set to leave the hospital, I took a walk down to Zooras room (both of us had been relocated to the "stationary" (and more humane) portion of the hospital and gave her a christmas card and said goodbye. A few hours later there was a knock on my door and there she stood... she very quickly slipped a silver armband off her wrist and onto mine this is the eye, for protection and good luck" she said, and disappeared back down the hallway.

The bracelet depicts a round, blue eye, surrounded by half moon engravings and a wavy silver band. Now, I wear it everyday.