There are two sides to every city- the tourist side and the local side. Think about New York: do people who live there go to the Statue of Liberty or Ellis Island on the weekends? No. People who visit Minnesota go to the Mall of America, the largest indoor mall in the nation. People who live in Minnesota only go there when they're forced to.
My favorite things in Munich are not the tourist attractions. Sure, the Marienplatz is cool and the Hofbrauhaus has a certain charm to it. The Frauenkirsche, known as the defining feature in the skyline of the old city, frankly looks like two giant dicks (which is ironic, because "Frauenkirsche" actually means "Women's church." I'm thinking the architecht had a sense of humor.) My favorite things in Munich are the gardens: gardens of the castles, beer gardens, and the English gardens.
I went to the Residenz gardens today (I'll admit that it is a bit touristy) and here are a few of the adventures I had:
- I stumbled upon a movie set. There were thirty to forty actors in World War II era German military uniforms. I watched the actors get into their costumes for awhile before getting the courage to talk to one of them. He told me they're making a movie about the 1923 Beer Hall Putsch- Hitler's first, failed attempt at grabbing power. Hitler was imprisoned for his part in the attempted coup, and he used this jail time to write "Mein Kampf." The actor was very nice. I have no idea what his name was or if he was famous. What I do know is that he had very blue eyes and was kind enough to speak slowly and clearly so that I could understand him. The movie is going to be on tv in Germany next summer, so maybe I'll be around to see it.
-I saw a model doing a photoshoot for some high fashion clothing line. I did not go up and talk to her- she looked unfriendly, hungry, and bored. Frankly, I think it was stupid for them to have a photoshoot there- they had to keep pausing for people to get out of the way.
- I listened to a magnificent quartet of musicians play classical music for over an hour. It was the best concert I've been to in Munich. Little German girls twirled in time to the music- one of them was a ginger! Whenever I see little girls with red hair it makes me laugh... I know they're going to grow up to be troublemakers :) Part of the reason I enjoyed the concert so much was because I have played most of the music on piano before. I bought all three of their CD's for my parents- they were that good.
Ah yes, I've had some amazing adventures in this city. It is the only other city I've been to, outside of Minneapolis, that I could see myself living in. Sure the touristy stuff is pretty cool. The history here is amazing (Munich is celebrating its 850th birthday this summer. 850 years. That's ridiculous.) But the "living" side of the city is my favorite part. In two days, my favorite partner in crime will be here to share it with me :)
Tomorrow: running in olympiapark, dirndl shopping, using the internet at work, and hopefully something fun at night. We will see.
---
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Friday, July 25, 2008
"I kissed a girl, and I liked it."
"I kissed a girl, and I liked it... the taste of her cherry chapstick. I kissed a girl, just to try it... I hope my boyfriend don't mind it."
Ah yes, the perfect song to hear at work at 10am. It has been stuck in my head all day, but in a good way. I am so painfully behind on American culture right now - this is the longest I've gone without reading People, US Weekly, or any of the other trashy celebrity culture magazines. Mags told me about this song awhile ago, but it is finally playing on the German radio. For some reason, I have the urge to add "... and I LIKED IT...!" to the end of every sentence. My common sense is telling me that would not be a good habit to get into.
Another somewhat related note - I love living alone. I don't have to worry about disturbing a roommate, I don't have to fight for the shower in the morning, and I can have naked time whenever. I can also have a glass of wine and a techno dance party on a thursday night and nobody can say anything bad about it. I have had some pretty awful living situations, so maybe this is my good karma catching up to me. I was due to have a good one at some point.
A not-at-all related note - every once in awhile, I have this urge to do something crazy and out of character. So far, these urges have manifested themselves in haircuts and piercings; I cut my hair pretty short (to my collarbone) twice, and have gotten a total of eight piercings. There hasn't been any lasting damage... hair grows back and I took out my cartiledge and nose piercings. Nevertheless, there's only so many inches of hair to cut off or so many (appropriate) body parts to pierce. It might be time to find a more constructive outlet for these feelings. Maybe I'll take up adventure sports. Next time I want to do something crazy, I'll go skydiving or cliff jumping. Sounds fun, but they're much more expensive activities than piercings and haircuts. The reason I bring this up - I had to take out my nose piercing (bummer), but I'm getting my hair cut today and want to do something different, something spunky. Unfortunately, I'm not sure if "spunky" translates and I'm terrified of German hairdressers. Whatever. Maybe I'll get a boring haircut and then go get something pierced.
I have nothing else to report except that today has been a fantastic day. It's Friday. I finished my project at work and actually got a genuine German compliment (big day for me). I'm leaving early from work today. Mags is coming soon.
Life is good. Das Leben ist gut.
---
Ah yes, the perfect song to hear at work at 10am. It has been stuck in my head all day, but in a good way. I am so painfully behind on American culture right now - this is the longest I've gone without reading People, US Weekly, or any of the other trashy celebrity culture magazines. Mags told me about this song awhile ago, but it is finally playing on the German radio. For some reason, I have the urge to add "... and I LIKED IT...!" to the end of every sentence. My common sense is telling me that would not be a good habit to get into.
Another somewhat related note - I love living alone. I don't have to worry about disturbing a roommate, I don't have to fight for the shower in the morning, and I can have naked time whenever. I can also have a glass of wine and a techno dance party on a thursday night and nobody can say anything bad about it. I have had some pretty awful living situations, so maybe this is my good karma catching up to me. I was due to have a good one at some point.
A not-at-all related note - every once in awhile, I have this urge to do something crazy and out of character. So far, these urges have manifested themselves in haircuts and piercings; I cut my hair pretty short (to my collarbone) twice, and have gotten a total of eight piercings. There hasn't been any lasting damage... hair grows back and I took out my cartiledge and nose piercings. Nevertheless, there's only so many inches of hair to cut off or so many (appropriate) body parts to pierce. It might be time to find a more constructive outlet for these feelings. Maybe I'll take up adventure sports. Next time I want to do something crazy, I'll go skydiving or cliff jumping. Sounds fun, but they're much more expensive activities than piercings and haircuts. The reason I bring this up - I had to take out my nose piercing (bummer), but I'm getting my hair cut today and want to do something different, something spunky. Unfortunately, I'm not sure if "spunky" translates and I'm terrified of German hairdressers. Whatever. Maybe I'll get a boring haircut and then go get something pierced.
I have nothing else to report except that today has been a fantastic day. It's Friday. I finished my project at work and actually got a genuine German compliment (big day for me). I'm leaving early from work today. Mags is coming soon.
Life is good. Das Leben ist gut.
---
Thursday, July 24, 2008
VICTORY.
My parents grew up in a small German farmtown in southern Minnesota. My dad is all German, my mom is all Irish. Before embarking on this journey, my mom had a lot of advice on how to deal with Germans. She kept repeating over and over, "Don't expect to get any compliments at work. That's not how Germans are. You can do an outstanding job on an assignment, but if you turn it in one minute late they won't say anything. Instead of saying 'thank you,' they'll ask why it was one minute late. I just don't want you to be surprised. Just don't expect many compliments... Okay?"
I've prevoiusly blogged about theories of motivation - I am the epitome of "achievement." I am motivated by being good at something. People like me are perfectionists who don't like working in groups. Once in awhile we can tolerate working with others- as long as they're also motivated by achievement. We like to get lots of feedback on our work and do well with increasing responsibility over time. It is easy to see why my mom was concerned about how I would do at work - being motivated in this way clashes with the classic view of Germans as stoic, efficient, non-effusive people. They don't show much emotion, either positive or negative.
I told her it was my sole mission this summer to get a genuine compliment from one of my bosses. Genuine in this case meaning unprompted; I didn't want to get a compliment by asking, "How did I do?" I wanted to perform at such a level that they'd have no choice but to say, "You are the most fantastic thing that has happened to this company since the invention of the internet."
Victory is mine.
Okay so he didn't say that I was the best thing since the internet, but Peter did say, "You have made my dream come true. This is awesome. Thank you so much, I think this will be really, really helpful."
Not only that, but I finally killed that damn fly that has been buzzing around my desk for the last two days. I don't have any food laying around so I don't know why, out of a room with twenty desks in it, the damn bug only flew around my desk. I think it might be because of my hair- bees often mistake me for a flower. I smacked the little bitch when it was sitting on my telephone and had to restrain myself from shouting for joy.
Victory.
---
I've prevoiusly blogged about theories of motivation - I am the epitome of "achievement." I am motivated by being good at something. People like me are perfectionists who don't like working in groups. Once in awhile we can tolerate working with others- as long as they're also motivated by achievement. We like to get lots of feedback on our work and do well with increasing responsibility over time. It is easy to see why my mom was concerned about how I would do at work - being motivated in this way clashes with the classic view of Germans as stoic, efficient, non-effusive people. They don't show much emotion, either positive or negative.
I told her it was my sole mission this summer to get a genuine compliment from one of my bosses. Genuine in this case meaning unprompted; I didn't want to get a compliment by asking, "How did I do?" I wanted to perform at such a level that they'd have no choice but to say, "You are the most fantastic thing that has happened to this company since the invention of the internet."
Victory is mine.
Okay so he didn't say that I was the best thing since the internet, but Peter did say, "You have made my dream come true. This is awesome. Thank you so much, I think this will be really, really helpful."
Not only that, but I finally killed that damn fly that has been buzzing around my desk for the last two days. I don't have any food laying around so I don't know why, out of a room with twenty desks in it, the damn bug only flew around my desk. I think it might be because of my hair- bees often mistake me for a flower. I smacked the little bitch when it was sitting on my telephone and had to restrain myself from shouting for joy.
Victory.
---
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
My life is a movie. Wait, no.
On cold and rainy nights, there is nothing better than staying in and watching a movie. Since Munich has been cold and rainy recently, I've done a lot of movie watching. The only English channels I get are CNNinternational and MTV Deutschland - neither of which are very interesting. There are only so many german-subtitled "Rock of Love" episodes or awful "CNN iReports" you can watch before your brain melts out your ears. So I've watched the same 10 movies on my laptop over and over again. Funny side effect- if you watch any movie enough times, you start to think it's an elaborate analogy for your life.
Example #1: The Little Mermaid (I didn't say they were cool movies.) Aside from the whole living underwater thing, I really am Ariel. I have wanted my whole life to be part of a different world - Europe - against the wishes of my parents. King Triton would be my dad, and we never meet Ariel's mother. Triton and Papa Schneider are strangely alike: silver-haired, rulers of their own domain, caring and snuggly- but if you break one of their rules you're in trouble. Big, big trouble. Anyway, I sold my soul to the Sea Witch (Wharton) and in return, I bargained passage to my dream world (Germany.) Ariel could only stay as a human for three days, I can only stay in Germany for three months. Ariel had to win Prince Eric's love without the use of her voice, and I try to get people to like me without the use of English. She embarrassed herself around humans - using a fork to comb her hair, wearing the wrong clothes, etc - and I definitely have had my share of cultural faux pas here in Germany.The only thing that's missing to make this analogy complete is Prince Eric... and the fact that Ariel stayed in the human world forever, and I'm still undecided as to where I want to live. I'm leaning towards Germany, but you never know.
Example #2: Shakespeare in Love. It's not quite as good of a comparison, but it's the same idea. Two people from different worlds have a limited time frame together before she moves to another country... do they live in the moment, knowing the separation will be harder, or do they give up and wonder what could have been?
Example #3: Good Will Hunting. After talking with my sister, we agreed that I am officially Morgan. For those of you unfamiliar with the movie, Morgan is the idiot, tag-a-long friend who embarrasses himself in front of other people, doesn't like getting into trouble, and has a smartass retort for everyone.
Tonight looks like it's going to be another rainy night, so I'll probably end up watching a movie....again. My life is so unbelievably interesting right now, I know. There is an opera tonight at the theater down the street, so maybe I'll break my pattern and go to that instead. MAGGIE IS COMING IN LESS THAN A WEEK! I'm a little bit excited. Just a little bit. We're heading to Salzburg for a couple of days, then back to München to go out with my friends on the weekend. Another boring tidbit from my life - I really need to get my hair cut but am terrified of German hairdressers. If you saw some of the girls' hair in Munich, you would understand. Yikes. Maybe I'll just wear a hat for a month instead.
---
Example #1: The Little Mermaid (I didn't say they were cool movies.) Aside from the whole living underwater thing, I really am Ariel. I have wanted my whole life to be part of a different world - Europe - against the wishes of my parents. King Triton would be my dad, and we never meet Ariel's mother. Triton and Papa Schneider are strangely alike: silver-haired, rulers of their own domain, caring and snuggly- but if you break one of their rules you're in trouble. Big, big trouble. Anyway, I sold my soul to the Sea Witch (Wharton) and in return, I bargained passage to my dream world (Germany.) Ariel could only stay as a human for three days, I can only stay in Germany for three months. Ariel had to win Prince Eric's love without the use of her voice, and I try to get people to like me without the use of English. She embarrassed herself around humans - using a fork to comb her hair, wearing the wrong clothes, etc - and I definitely have had my share of cultural faux pas here in Germany.The only thing that's missing to make this analogy complete is Prince Eric... and the fact that Ariel stayed in the human world forever, and I'm still undecided as to where I want to live. I'm leaning towards Germany, but you never know.
Example #2: Shakespeare in Love. It's not quite as good of a comparison, but it's the same idea. Two people from different worlds have a limited time frame together before she moves to another country... do they live in the moment, knowing the separation will be harder, or do they give up and wonder what could have been?
Example #3: Good Will Hunting. After talking with my sister, we agreed that I am officially Morgan. For those of you unfamiliar with the movie, Morgan is the idiot, tag-a-long friend who embarrasses himself in front of other people, doesn't like getting into trouble, and has a smartass retort for everyone.
Tonight looks like it's going to be another rainy night, so I'll probably end up watching a movie....again. My life is so unbelievably interesting right now, I know. There is an opera tonight at the theater down the street, so maybe I'll break my pattern and go to that instead. MAGGIE IS COMING IN LESS THAN A WEEK! I'm a little bit excited. Just a little bit. We're heading to Salzburg for a couple of days, then back to München to go out with my friends on the weekend. Another boring tidbit from my life - I really need to get my hair cut but am terrified of German hairdressers. If you saw some of the girls' hair in Munich, you would understand. Yikes. Maybe I'll just wear a hat for a month instead.
---
Monday, July 21, 2008
Ich war eine betrunkene Schlampe.
I am not a religious person. I don't believe in God for two reasons:
1. If you go back far enough, humans had gods for everything. They had gods of wind, gods of fire, gods for the stars and gods of the weather. There weren't scientific explanations for these phenomenon, so they believed these events were controlled by a higher power. As science advanced, we found out the answers to the causes of the wind, the sun, the weather, etc. The only mystery that remains is what happens after we die, so that is the only God that remains.
2. Awful shit happens to good people, whether or not they believe in God.
I realize that religion serves a purpose in society - some people only do good things because of the threat of eternal punishment (or the promise of eternal rewards.) Religion can be a comfort to people who, for whatever reason, are going through a hard time in life. It can do good things. But if you look at the number of wars that have started and the number of people that have been killed over religious differences, you start to wonder if the bad outweighs the good.
I stopped going to church shortly after I was confirmed - and I had to write a special request to the priest because my church didn't want to confirm me. Apparently, I had missed too many classes or something. I wrote three pages of bullshit and had a special meeting with our priest to explain to him that I was a devout Catholic with scheduling issues. No, I was not getting confirmed to please my parents (which I was) and I would attend mass regularly after confirmation (which I didn't.)
Nevertheless, church serves as a source of comfort for me. Let me rephrase that - churches serve as a source of comfort, especially the old, historic, beautiful ones in Europe. I don't go to mass, I don't meet with priests, I don't go to confession. But no matter how awful I feel, going into a church and sitting by myself is a very comforting thing. My mom used to say that the one good thing about the Catholic Church was confession - it is like free therapy. You don't have to look the priest in the eyes and you can tell him all of your horrible deeds... he'll give you a few words of advice and a few prayers to say. People learn from their mistakes and move on.
This morning I went for a long, long walk along the Isar. I came upon this small, old church and went in and sat down for about an hour, thinking. Since my dad is an atheist as well, he used church as a weekly lesson in morality. No God, no heaven and hell... just listen to the stories and learn how to be a moral person. I think I learned those lessons pretty well. Unfortunately, last saturday was not my finest hour.
Lots of thinking to do...
---
1. If you go back far enough, humans had gods for everything. They had gods of wind, gods of fire, gods for the stars and gods of the weather. There weren't scientific explanations for these phenomenon, so they believed these events were controlled by a higher power. As science advanced, we found out the answers to the causes of the wind, the sun, the weather, etc. The only mystery that remains is what happens after we die, so that is the only God that remains.
2. Awful shit happens to good people, whether or not they believe in God.
I realize that religion serves a purpose in society - some people only do good things because of the threat of eternal punishment (or the promise of eternal rewards.) Religion can be a comfort to people who, for whatever reason, are going through a hard time in life. It can do good things. But if you look at the number of wars that have started and the number of people that have been killed over religious differences, you start to wonder if the bad outweighs the good.
I stopped going to church shortly after I was confirmed - and I had to write a special request to the priest because my church didn't want to confirm me. Apparently, I had missed too many classes or something. I wrote three pages of bullshit and had a special meeting with our priest to explain to him that I was a devout Catholic with scheduling issues. No, I was not getting confirmed to please my parents (which I was) and I would attend mass regularly after confirmation (which I didn't.)
Nevertheless, church serves as a source of comfort for me. Let me rephrase that - churches serve as a source of comfort, especially the old, historic, beautiful ones in Europe. I don't go to mass, I don't meet with priests, I don't go to confession. But no matter how awful I feel, going into a church and sitting by myself is a very comforting thing. My mom used to say that the one good thing about the Catholic Church was confession - it is like free therapy. You don't have to look the priest in the eyes and you can tell him all of your horrible deeds... he'll give you a few words of advice and a few prayers to say. People learn from their mistakes and move on.
This morning I went for a long, long walk along the Isar. I came upon this small, old church and went in and sat down for about an hour, thinking. Since my dad is an atheist as well, he used church as a weekly lesson in morality. No God, no heaven and hell... just listen to the stories and learn how to be a moral person. I think I learned those lessons pretty well. Unfortunately, last saturday was not my finest hour.
Lots of thinking to do...
---
Thursday, July 17, 2008
"I'm good, thanks. You?"
Two Americans are walking towards each other, in a hurry, and they have the following exchange:
American #1: "Hey! How are you?"
American #2: "Good! You?"
American #1: "Good!"
Two Germans are walking towards each other, in a hurry, and they have the following exchange:
German #1: "Hallo!"
German #2: "Hallo!"
Both Germans smile and continue walking.
Americans are such liars sometimes. You could be in the middle of a horrible breakup, failed a test, and been diagnosed with cancer, but you're still expected to reply "I'm good, thanks. You?" American #1, in our setting, doesn't actually care how American #2 is doing. I realize that part of this exchange depends on how well Person #1 and Person #2 know each other. On average, I had 10 of these "conversations" per day in the states - especially at college. In Germany? Maybe one a week. Maybe.
I wonder why our culture does this. I realize it's a custom, but this custom had to come from somewhere. Are we so concerned with appearing well-off that we constantly lie about our state of being? And why do we ask complete strangers how their lives are doing if we don't actually care? Think about it. If someone replied, "Well, actually my life is shit right now. My boyfriend broke up with me, my cat died, and my friends all told me I'm a bitch. Plus, I think I'm addicted to heroin." How would you respond? Probably with a blank stare before replying, "That's rough. But I've got to go. Bye!" Maybe you don't want to spend time around bitchy, depressed heroin-addicts. But the more likely reason for your shock is that you weren't expecting an honest answer. (This is a completely hypothetical situation and is not based on my life in any way. Calm down, Mom.)
German people are more genuine (for more detail- see "The Dating Game" post from last month.) They don't ask how you're doing unless they care and have the time to hear about it. This was very strange to me the first couple of weeks I was here. I'd see coworkers - strangers, at that point - and ask "How are you?" They slowed down to talk, because they thought I wanted to hear what was going on in their lives. I kept walking. It created a fair number of awkward moments - my specialty in life.
"If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say it at all." That's how Germans live. Americans think more along the lines of, "If you don't have anything nice to say, talk around it. Make comments about anything else. Be so over-the-top nice about it that the other person will eventually figure out you're lying." A good example of this - my German skills. Correction: my lack of German skills. People here don't tell me that I'm good at speaking German. They'll say I'm good for having only studied for one year, my comprehension is not bad, my accent is alright, or that I've improved since the last time they spoke to me. But nobody, when I tell them my German is bad, will say, "What are you talking about!? Your German is great!"
That would be a lie. A big, fat lie.
One of my favorite things about being in Germany is calling my sister when she leaves work. I hear her go through all the greetings, "Hi! How are you? Good? I'm good!" Her voice gets higher, I can mentally see her fake smile, and I laugh. I can tell who she likes and doesn't like solely by listening to her speak. I can tell who looks like shit, even if she says "Oh you look cute today!" I can tell which person is her boss. I can tell which person annoyed her today. All of this is communicated by how short or long her greeting is. To someone who doesn't know her, they all sound the same. "I'm good!" But they're not.
My question is - why even bother talking to the person that annoyed you today? Why tell someone they're wearing cute pants if they're ugly? Why say "I'm good!" to everyone else, and then talk for half an hour about how bad your day was?
It's not just Maggie, and she's not a bad person for doing it. Everyone (in America) does the exact same thing. When I'm home I have the exact same fake smile and "I'm good!" response for everyone as well.
Americans are weird.
---
American #1: "Hey! How are you?"
American #2: "Good! You?"
American #1: "Good!"
Two Germans are walking towards each other, in a hurry, and they have the following exchange:
German #1: "Hallo!"
German #2: "Hallo!"
Both Germans smile and continue walking.
Americans are such liars sometimes. You could be in the middle of a horrible breakup, failed a test, and been diagnosed with cancer, but you're still expected to reply "I'm good, thanks. You?" American #1, in our setting, doesn't actually care how American #2 is doing. I realize that part of this exchange depends on how well Person #1 and Person #2 know each other. On average, I had 10 of these "conversations" per day in the states - especially at college. In Germany? Maybe one a week. Maybe.
I wonder why our culture does this. I realize it's a custom, but this custom had to come from somewhere. Are we so concerned with appearing well-off that we constantly lie about our state of being? And why do we ask complete strangers how their lives are doing if we don't actually care? Think about it. If someone replied, "Well, actually my life is shit right now. My boyfriend broke up with me, my cat died, and my friends all told me I'm a bitch. Plus, I think I'm addicted to heroin." How would you respond? Probably with a blank stare before replying, "That's rough. But I've got to go. Bye!" Maybe you don't want to spend time around bitchy, depressed heroin-addicts. But the more likely reason for your shock is that you weren't expecting an honest answer. (This is a completely hypothetical situation and is not based on my life in any way. Calm down, Mom.)
German people are more genuine (for more detail- see "The Dating Game" post from last month.) They don't ask how you're doing unless they care and have the time to hear about it. This was very strange to me the first couple of weeks I was here. I'd see coworkers - strangers, at that point - and ask "How are you?" They slowed down to talk, because they thought I wanted to hear what was going on in their lives. I kept walking. It created a fair number of awkward moments - my specialty in life.
"If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say it at all." That's how Germans live. Americans think more along the lines of, "If you don't have anything nice to say, talk around it. Make comments about anything else. Be so over-the-top nice about it that the other person will eventually figure out you're lying." A good example of this - my German skills. Correction: my lack of German skills. People here don't tell me that I'm good at speaking German. They'll say I'm good for having only studied for one year, my comprehension is not bad, my accent is alright, or that I've improved since the last time they spoke to me. But nobody, when I tell them my German is bad, will say, "What are you talking about!? Your German is great!"
That would be a lie. A big, fat lie.
One of my favorite things about being in Germany is calling my sister when she leaves work. I hear her go through all the greetings, "Hi! How are you? Good? I'm good!" Her voice gets higher, I can mentally see her fake smile, and I laugh. I can tell who she likes and doesn't like solely by listening to her speak. I can tell who looks like shit, even if she says "Oh you look cute today!" I can tell which person is her boss. I can tell which person annoyed her today. All of this is communicated by how short or long her greeting is. To someone who doesn't know her, they all sound the same. "I'm good!" But they're not.
My question is - why even bother talking to the person that annoyed you today? Why tell someone they're wearing cute pants if they're ugly? Why say "I'm good!" to everyone else, and then talk for half an hour about how bad your day was?
It's not just Maggie, and she's not a bad person for doing it. Everyone (in America) does the exact same thing. When I'm home I have the exact same fake smile and "I'm good!" response for everyone as well.
Americans are weird.
---
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
More ketchup, please.
There are many "American" things here that aren't the same as they are in America. For example, some of the music is the same, but it's not censored because nobody can understand the lyrics. A while ago, I heard 50 Cent "P-I-M-P" and the normally censored line "Ho make a pimp rich, I ain't payin' bitch / catch a date, suck a dick, shit... trick!" came across loud and clear. It's even funnier to hear Germans try and sing along to these lyrics with their accents. Hilarious. Another "American" thing that is different - Coke. They don't have Diet Coke, it's "Coke Light" and it definitely doesn't taste the same. Apparently all of the fake sugars that we Americans love aren't used in Europe. They have Starbucks, but no Splenda to put in your coffee.
And now, the epic symbol of globalized business, Americanization, and "the world is flat" principle - McDonalds. Totally not the same as it is in America. There's no red and yellow theme, no Ronald McDonald, no plastic booths, no McDonalds Playplace. In comparison, it's actually kind of classy. They even have a special Asian-style menu. They don't have massive ketchup dispensers on the side - you have to order ketchup with your meal (which is an issue for people like me, who put copious amounts of ketchup on everything.) The menu, aside from having an Asian section, is completely different. There are no numbered meals, so you can't go up and ask "a number two, please." The food tastes different - better, actually. One thing that hasn't changed?? EVERY time I go to McDonalds - only three or four times a year - I spill ketchup in my lap. Every. Single. Time. And, I am always wearing white bottoms. It's a curse.
Speaking of ketchup, someone wise once compared getting to know German people to opening a bottle of ketchup. At first, nothing comes out. You can shake it, you can try holding it at different angles, but nothing will come out. Then, all of the sudden, you have tons of ketchup on your plate. In my experiences with German people and with ketchup, this seems to be an accurate description. They take a while to get to know. They are much more reserved. But once you break through that barrier, they're pretty awesome - but it takes time. You see, Americans are more like bottles of shampoo. Unless you hold them just right, everything comes pouring out. Just a little push will give you much more information (or shampoo) than you wanted.
I want to be more like a bottle of ketchup. It's always easy to reveal more about yourself, but it's impossible to take something back. You can't "un-share" something. People don't forget that easily, especially the types of things I tend to share about.
Oh and I'm taking out my nose piercing - I think it's sending the wrong signals to the bosses. Es ist nicht angemessen für Arbeit. They shouldn't know that their good-girl, hardworking American Intern has a more interesting side. Being boring at work is a good thing. More ketchup, less shampoo.
---
And now, the epic symbol of globalized business, Americanization, and "the world is flat" principle - McDonalds. Totally not the same as it is in America. There's no red and yellow theme, no Ronald McDonald, no plastic booths, no McDonalds Playplace. In comparison, it's actually kind of classy. They even have a special Asian-style menu. They don't have massive ketchup dispensers on the side - you have to order ketchup with your meal (which is an issue for people like me, who put copious amounts of ketchup on everything.) The menu, aside from having an Asian section, is completely different. There are no numbered meals, so you can't go up and ask "a number two, please." The food tastes different - better, actually. One thing that hasn't changed?? EVERY time I go to McDonalds - only three or four times a year - I spill ketchup in my lap. Every. Single. Time. And, I am always wearing white bottoms. It's a curse.
Speaking of ketchup, someone wise once compared getting to know German people to opening a bottle of ketchup. At first, nothing comes out. You can shake it, you can try holding it at different angles, but nothing will come out. Then, all of the sudden, you have tons of ketchup on your plate. In my experiences with German people and with ketchup, this seems to be an accurate description. They take a while to get to know. They are much more reserved. But once you break through that barrier, they're pretty awesome - but it takes time. You see, Americans are more like bottles of shampoo. Unless you hold them just right, everything comes pouring out. Just a little push will give you much more information (or shampoo) than you wanted.
I want to be more like a bottle of ketchup. It's always easy to reveal more about yourself, but it's impossible to take something back. You can't "un-share" something. People don't forget that easily, especially the types of things I tend to share about.
Oh and I'm taking out my nose piercing - I think it's sending the wrong signals to the bosses. Es ist nicht angemessen für Arbeit. They shouldn't know that their good-girl, hardworking American Intern has a more interesting side. Being boring at work is a good thing. More ketchup, less shampoo.
---
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
When it rains, it pours.
Once again, I'm realizing that cliches are often the only way to accurately describe what is going on. My life right now? When it rains, it pours.
I had this long post written out about how it's "pouring" at work - to follow along with my analogy - but it didn't really describe what's going on. It also made no sense. Point being - I have a lot of work to do and I'm sleep deprived. More work is good, no complaints. But when I get sleep deprived, I get weird. I think the best way to capture the essence of my thought process is to write out a train of thought, so here goes:
I'm listening to Mr. Big "To Be With You." I love this song. It always reminds me of my dad. When I was little, we used to sing and dance to songs whenever I was cranky. Another one was "Summer of 69" which came on the radio today. What a great song. Anyway, there are certain songs that have happy, safe connotations associated with them. God, I sound like a douche. Who uses the word "connotations" when they're this tired? Fucking Wharton. That school is like a poison. Do you know how often I use the word "feedback" now? It's so irritating. Why can't there be another phrase for it... like "tell me if I'm fucking up" or "let me know what you think." There is some other word I use all the time but I can't remember what it is. You know things are heading south when you start to annoy yourself. For example, I used to be a hostess at Perkins (a cheap diner at home) and whenever people walked in, I would say "two?" But I said it really irritatingly, like my voice went up at the end and everything. It was ridiculous.
Annndd now my music has changed. But I don't like it, so I'm changing it again. Much better. "Falling in Love at a Coffee Shop" by Landon Pigg. I am overlooking the fact that his last name is Pigg, because that's just weird. I was going to write a book called "Cafe life" and it's kind of hard to describe.... so I won't. I tried to, and it didn't even make sense to me. Nevermind. I should get working on my other book again, called "Poision Ivy." It's about the Ivy League... everyone wants to be in it but I wonder if they know what it's actually like. I guess I shouldn't bitch about it though, because if I didn't go to Wharton, then I wouldn't be in Germany right now (because I got the job through career services.) And if I wasn't in Germany, then I wouldn't be in München, and I wouldn't be typing on a keyboard with umlauts on it. I löve ümläüts. Seriously. They make every word more happy looking. I have serious issues typing on my American keyboard now because the keys are in all different places. Fuck.
My music changed again - another song that reminds me of Dad! It's "She Was the Prize" by Gaelic Storm. My dad always changed the lyrics to the chorus "she, she was the prize. Shiny red hair and those lovely, those lovely blue eyes." Sad thing though, I thought those were actually the lyrics. My sister was such a bitch and told me what the real words though, and I cried. So cruel. The saddest part about this story? I was 15. I know. I am so gullible. I believed Dad played harmonica with Elvis, that they had stone trophies when he was younger, and that the weatherman stood on the top of the world to give his weather reports. I blame Maggie for that one - she was almost three years older than me and I thought she knew everything. She certainly thinks she knows everything (kidding, sis... but seriously you are strangely confident in things you know nothing about. It's a good thing though. I'm normally overly cautious. We make a good duo. Apparently though, my "overly cautious" in Germany comes across as "very direct." I think that's a good thing...?) Ingram says I'm rubbing off on her, because she's become a lot more forward with guys. She calls it "Pulling a Liz." I don't care if I am singing the wrong words to this song, I like dad's version better. Who wants a girl with "shiny black hair and lovely brown eyes"? Not me. But then again, I am not attracted to girls, so it wouldn't really matter what color her hair or eyes were. I like boys. Wow. See? This is how I get when I'm tired.
I. Need. Sleep.
Happy Tuesday to all, and to all a good night.
*End Scene*
---
I had this long post written out about how it's "pouring" at work - to follow along with my analogy - but it didn't really describe what's going on. It also made no sense. Point being - I have a lot of work to do and I'm sleep deprived. More work is good, no complaints. But when I get sleep deprived, I get weird. I think the best way to capture the essence of my thought process is to write out a train of thought, so here goes:
I'm listening to Mr. Big "To Be With You." I love this song. It always reminds me of my dad. When I was little, we used to sing and dance to songs whenever I was cranky. Another one was "Summer of 69" which came on the radio today. What a great song. Anyway, there are certain songs that have happy, safe connotations associated with them. God, I sound like a douche. Who uses the word "connotations" when they're this tired? Fucking Wharton. That school is like a poison. Do you know how often I use the word "feedback" now? It's so irritating. Why can't there be another phrase for it... like "tell me if I'm fucking up" or "let me know what you think." There is some other word I use all the time but I can't remember what it is. You know things are heading south when you start to annoy yourself. For example, I used to be a hostess at Perkins (a cheap diner at home) and whenever people walked in, I would say "two?" But I said it really irritatingly, like my voice went up at the end and everything. It was ridiculous.
Annndd now my music has changed. But I don't like it, so I'm changing it again. Much better. "Falling in Love at a Coffee Shop" by Landon Pigg. I am overlooking the fact that his last name is Pigg, because that's just weird. I was going to write a book called "Cafe life" and it's kind of hard to describe.... so I won't. I tried to, and it didn't even make sense to me. Nevermind. I should get working on my other book again, called "Poision Ivy." It's about the Ivy League... everyone wants to be in it but I wonder if they know what it's actually like. I guess I shouldn't bitch about it though, because if I didn't go to Wharton, then I wouldn't be in Germany right now (because I got the job through career services.) And if I wasn't in Germany, then I wouldn't be in München, and I wouldn't be typing on a keyboard with umlauts on it. I löve ümläüts. Seriously. They make every word more happy looking. I have serious issues typing on my American keyboard now because the keys are in all different places. Fuck.
My music changed again - another song that reminds me of Dad! It's "She Was the Prize" by Gaelic Storm. My dad always changed the lyrics to the chorus "she, she was the prize. Shiny red hair and those lovely, those lovely blue eyes." Sad thing though, I thought those were actually the lyrics. My sister was such a bitch and told me what the real words though, and I cried. So cruel. The saddest part about this story? I was 15. I know. I am so gullible. I believed Dad played harmonica with Elvis, that they had stone trophies when he was younger, and that the weatherman stood on the top of the world to give his weather reports. I blame Maggie for that one - she was almost three years older than me and I thought she knew everything. She certainly thinks she knows everything (kidding, sis... but seriously you are strangely confident in things you know nothing about. It's a good thing though. I'm normally overly cautious. We make a good duo. Apparently though, my "overly cautious" in Germany comes across as "very direct." I think that's a good thing...?) Ingram says I'm rubbing off on her, because she's become a lot more forward with guys. She calls it "Pulling a Liz." I don't care if I am singing the wrong words to this song, I like dad's version better. Who wants a girl with "shiny black hair and lovely brown eyes"? Not me. But then again, I am not attracted to girls, so it wouldn't really matter what color her hair or eyes were. I like boys. Wow. See? This is how I get when I'm tired.
I. Need. Sleep.
Happy Tuesday to all, and to all a good night.
*End Scene*
---
Monday, July 14, 2008
You Americans? You want to go to Burger King?
I love being inside when it's raining. Currently, I'm sitting at my desk with a cappuccino and listening to Norah Jones while looking out at the rain - it's very relaxing. However, I did have to walk over a mile in the shitty weather to get to work this morning, so my rain-soaked shoes make "squish-squish" noises whenever I walk. It's been six hours and they still haven't fully dried yet, consequently I sound like this:
*squish-squish* "Hallo! Guten morgen!" *squishsquishsquishsquish*
I'm so weird sometimes.
This weekend was good - Margo came to visit! We stumbled upon a gay festival, which sounded like it was a great party... good music, good food, unbelievable people watching. We saw a transvestite dominatrix - and that was one of the tamer outfits there. We got hit on (well, Margo got hit on) by this guy who used the worst pickup line ever: "Oh, you Americans! You want to go to Burger King?" Um no, but thanks. He also assumed that didn't speak German and started translating what was being said on the loudspeaker; Margo finally started answering him in German to shut him up. I wanted to tell him we were lesbians (we were standing in the middle of a gay festival) but thought that would be awkward. Turns out, it was more awkward having to give one-word answers to someone who has no idea how to take a hint.
Maybe we were being oversensitive, but we were both really offended by him. He heard us speak two words of English and made huge generalizations about what type of people we were and what kinds of things we liked to do. I realize that generalizations have a function - we use them as shortcuts to make important judgments. If our brains had to constantly analyze every situation separately, we would be so overwhelmed by information that we wouldn't function well. It's more efficient this way. For example - a woman walking alone in a dark alley and meeting a large man wearing a ski-mask is generally not a good situation. Maybe it's the wintertime and the other person was legitimately cold, and wearing all black because he likes the color. Could happen, but generally not. Generalizations are simple mental shortcuts. I guess I'm not offended that this random stranger in the Marienplatz made generalizations about us, but it was a stark reminder of the kinds of things associated with Americans. We like greasy fast food and are culturally ignorant. We don't know any other language aside from our own, and don't care to learn one. I guess it was just upsetting to know that everyday people actually think that about us.
Saturday night we perpetuated some American stereotypes when we went to a bar with her friends from high school. I have to admit, I've been here for so long that I've forgotten how Americans act. For example, we all met up on Saturday night at the Hofbräuhaus (über touristy bar) for a drink or two before going out for the night. What were the American guys wearing? Basketball shorts, stained t-shirts, and running shoes... on a Saturday night. Needless to say, they needed to go back to their hotel and change clothes before we went to the club. Also, the American drinking culture was out in full force. The guys chugged their beers, kept count of how much they drank like a badge of honor, and ordered rounds of Jäger shots at the club. Hey, no judgment... okay well maybe I am judging a little bit. I really shouldn't be though, because I used to be just like that. I did finally go to a German club though... and it was insane. I can't really describe it, except to say that they played the Macarena at 2:30am. Insane.
I think that going back to the US is going to take some major adjusting. Honestly, I'm not sure which country I like better. Aside from the bike lanes, Germany has some advantages over the US. Small side note - it finally happened. I got fucking nailed by a bike. I had a handlebar-shaped bruise on my back for a solid week. Ouch. Aside from bike lanes and the fact that my family and friends live in the US, life in Germany is perfect. Quasi-perfect, at least. I could see myself being happy in either country, which is making my future plans very complicated. The first question I have to answer is, "where do I want to live?" I don't know. This makes it pretty difficult to think about jobs, future schooling, etc. Hm.
I'm going to go think.
---
*squish-squish* "Hallo! Guten morgen!" *squishsquishsquishsquish*
I'm so weird sometimes.
This weekend was good - Margo came to visit! We stumbled upon a gay festival, which sounded like it was a great party... good music, good food, unbelievable people watching. We saw a transvestite dominatrix - and that was one of the tamer outfits there. We got hit on (well, Margo got hit on) by this guy who used the worst pickup line ever: "Oh, you Americans! You want to go to Burger King?" Um no, but thanks. He also assumed that didn't speak German and started translating what was being said on the loudspeaker; Margo finally started answering him in German to shut him up. I wanted to tell him we were lesbians (we were standing in the middle of a gay festival) but thought that would be awkward. Turns out, it was more awkward having to give one-word answers to someone who has no idea how to take a hint.
Maybe we were being oversensitive, but we were both really offended by him. He heard us speak two words of English and made huge generalizations about what type of people we were and what kinds of things we liked to do. I realize that generalizations have a function - we use them as shortcuts to make important judgments. If our brains had to constantly analyze every situation separately, we would be so overwhelmed by information that we wouldn't function well. It's more efficient this way. For example - a woman walking alone in a dark alley and meeting a large man wearing a ski-mask is generally not a good situation. Maybe it's the wintertime and the other person was legitimately cold, and wearing all black because he likes the color. Could happen, but generally not. Generalizations are simple mental shortcuts. I guess I'm not offended that this random stranger in the Marienplatz made generalizations about us, but it was a stark reminder of the kinds of things associated with Americans. We like greasy fast food and are culturally ignorant. We don't know any other language aside from our own, and don't care to learn one. I guess it was just upsetting to know that everyday people actually think that about us.
Saturday night we perpetuated some American stereotypes when we went to a bar with her friends from high school. I have to admit, I've been here for so long that I've forgotten how Americans act. For example, we all met up on Saturday night at the Hofbräuhaus (über touristy bar) for a drink or two before going out for the night. What were the American guys wearing? Basketball shorts, stained t-shirts, and running shoes... on a Saturday night. Needless to say, they needed to go back to their hotel and change clothes before we went to the club. Also, the American drinking culture was out in full force. The guys chugged their beers, kept count of how much they drank like a badge of honor, and ordered rounds of Jäger shots at the club. Hey, no judgment... okay well maybe I am judging a little bit. I really shouldn't be though, because I used to be just like that. I did finally go to a German club though... and it was insane. I can't really describe it, except to say that they played the Macarena at 2:30am. Insane.
I think that going back to the US is going to take some major adjusting. Honestly, I'm not sure which country I like better. Aside from the bike lanes, Germany has some advantages over the US. Small side note - it finally happened. I got fucking nailed by a bike. I had a handlebar-shaped bruise on my back for a solid week. Ouch. Aside from bike lanes and the fact that my family and friends live in the US, life in Germany is perfect. Quasi-perfect, at least. I could see myself being happy in either country, which is making my future plans very complicated. The first question I have to answer is, "where do I want to live?" I don't know. This makes it pretty difficult to think about jobs, future schooling, etc. Hm.
I'm going to go think.
---
Friday, July 11, 2008
Ein Bier, bitte. Nur eins.
Evidently I have been neglecting my blogging duties. I apologize, dear readers, for keeping you in suspense about my oh-so-interesting life and the adventures I have recently undertaken.
So, onward march. German beer culture.
The culture surrounding alcohol is completely different from the states. Especially in college, and especially at Penn, the theme surrounding drinking is "go hard or go home." You drink with one ultimate goal in mind- to get drunk. At Wharton, I hear people bragging about three things: how many hours they spent studying in Huntsman last night, how much work they still have to do, and how fucked up they got last weekend. It's almost like a competition. A really messed up competition of "who did the most embarrassing thing Friday night."
I'm not sure exactly how this attitude came into being. You've all seen the party pictures... and they're not pretty. Glassy-eyed, popped-collar preppy guys flash gang signs at cameras while drunk girls kiss their cheeks mid-stumble. Drunk girls + high heels = not a good combination. We keep it classy in America. Maybe we act this way because we are "deprived" of alcohol for our first 21 years of life. It could be similar to the nudity issue- we're sluts because our society is prude, and we're drunk and embarrassing because our society puts alcohol out of our reach. It's simply another form of rebellion.
I must confess that I have taken part in this sort of drinking culture. The last few semesters at college I didn't drink often, but when I did, I drank a lot. A lot (sorry parents.) I never got into any trouble, but I was pretty concerned about this coming to Germany. I can drink. There is no argument over "who is going to buy alcohol this weekend and risk getting caught" crap. I'm legal here, and I was a little scared of that.
Thankfully instead of taking a turn for the worse, my drinking habits have gotten much healthier. No more tequila shots, no more "race-to-the-chase," no more awful hangovers. Even though I only went out a few times per semester, it still wasn't a good pattern. Nicht gut. The drinking culture here is very different- although that could be attributed to the fact that I hang out with older people. Apparently, partying all night loses it's appeal after the age of 22.
Beer or wine with lunch, a beer after dinner or watching the soccer game... It's not a rebellion here. It's a way of life. From what I have seen, people don't go out at night with the intention of getting wasted. If you happen to get a bit tipsy after a beer or two (or gin and tonic) that's okay, but getting completely drunk is not. Again, my observations about german drinking culture could be biased because I hang out with people between the ages of 24 and 30. Either way, this more relaxed and responsible way of drinking has rubbed off on me in a good way.
So, I'm going to go pour myself a small glass of wine and enjoy a rainy Friday night in my apartment, watching movies in English.
Goodnight :)
---
So, onward march. German beer culture.
The culture surrounding alcohol is completely different from the states. Especially in college, and especially at Penn, the theme surrounding drinking is "go hard or go home." You drink with one ultimate goal in mind- to get drunk. At Wharton, I hear people bragging about three things: how many hours they spent studying in Huntsman last night, how much work they still have to do, and how fucked up they got last weekend. It's almost like a competition. A really messed up competition of "who did the most embarrassing thing Friday night."
I'm not sure exactly how this attitude came into being. You've all seen the party pictures... and they're not pretty. Glassy-eyed, popped-collar preppy guys flash gang signs at cameras while drunk girls kiss their cheeks mid-stumble. Drunk girls + high heels = not a good combination. We keep it classy in America. Maybe we act this way because we are "deprived" of alcohol for our first 21 years of life. It could be similar to the nudity issue- we're sluts because our society is prude, and we're drunk and embarrassing because our society puts alcohol out of our reach. It's simply another form of rebellion.
I must confess that I have taken part in this sort of drinking culture. The last few semesters at college I didn't drink often, but when I did, I drank a lot. A lot (sorry parents.) I never got into any trouble, but I was pretty concerned about this coming to Germany. I can drink. There is no argument over "who is going to buy alcohol this weekend and risk getting caught" crap. I'm legal here, and I was a little scared of that.
Thankfully instead of taking a turn for the worse, my drinking habits have gotten much healthier. No more tequila shots, no more "race-to-the-chase," no more awful hangovers. Even though I only went out a few times per semester, it still wasn't a good pattern. Nicht gut. The drinking culture here is very different- although that could be attributed to the fact that I hang out with older people. Apparently, partying all night loses it's appeal after the age of 22.
Beer or wine with lunch, a beer after dinner or watching the soccer game... It's not a rebellion here. It's a way of life. From what I have seen, people don't go out at night with the intention of getting wasted. If you happen to get a bit tipsy after a beer or two (or gin and tonic) that's okay, but getting completely drunk is not. Again, my observations about german drinking culture could be biased because I hang out with people between the ages of 24 and 30. Either way, this more relaxed and responsible way of drinking has rubbed off on me in a good way.
So, I'm going to go pour myself a small glass of wine and enjoy a rainy Friday night in my apartment, watching movies in English.
Goodnight :)
---
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Bet you didn't know this one...
The most famous man in modern-day German history is Adolf Hitler (shhhhh... you have to whisper his name. That's how it's said here in the Fatherland. It's not Hitler, it's Hitler.) But this week, for your German History lesson, I present to you the second most famous man in German history. Martin Luther. My good friend Wikipedia refers to Luther as "... a German monk, theologian, university professor and church reformer whose ideas inspired the Protestant Reformation and changed the course of Western civilization."
Martin Luther. A man who in 1517 posted the 95 thesis on a church door in Wittenburg, Germany in protest of the abuses of the Catholic Church and turned the middle ages on it's head. Interestingly enough, he attributed his decision to become involved in the church to a thunderstorm in 1505. A bolt of lightening struck the ground near him, and he shouted out in terror, "Help! Saint Anna! I will become a monk!" He viewed this as an unbreakable promise, and joined the Augustinian friary two weeks later.
History class teaches us only the good things about Luther's legacy. We were taught that he saved the masses from the increasing tyranny of the Catholic Church, exposed the abuses of the clergy, and withstood ridicule and persecution for defending his "freedom of conscience." Luther's translation of the Bible into German made scripture more accessible to the people. One historical writer quotes this achievement alone as making him "one of the greatest benefactors of the german-speaking race." I am not going to presume that I am the judge of what is "good" and what is "bad," but these seem to be "good" actions thus far. Up until this point, he had strived to make religion more accessible to the people while freeing them from underneath brutal Catholic rule. Luther did some good things. But, he also wrote that one particular group of people were "base, whoring people, that is, no people of God, and their boast of lineage, circumcision, and law must be accounted as filth." Know who he was talking about? Jews. He wrote that Jews were the "devil's people," and they (Christians) "would not be at fault for slaying them." Seem familiar? The most-famous man in German History used Luther's well-documented anti-semitism as a rallying point 400 years later.
Hitler was undoubtably a horrible human being. He was also a brilliant leader. Not "brilliant" as in "he did great things," but "brilliant" as in an amazing politician. That is the whole reason things in the 1930's and 1940's went so terribly wrong - horrible person combined with the ability to get followers. This should not be a controversial fact, but I'm sure I've offended some people by stating it. On the other hand, Luther is remembered by history as being a champion against the oppressive Catholic Church, while he was just as bigoted and anti-semitic as Hitler. It's an interesting historical paradox.
I can't help but think - one of the safest places to be in a lightning storm is the place where lightening just struck. "Lightening doesn't strike the same place twice." Maybe if Luther had known this, he wouldn't have been such a wuss about a little thunder and lightening. Maybe he wouldn't have made an unbreakable promise to a saint and become a monk. The reason he kept his promise? He was afraid of what would happen on Judgment Day if he didn't. After all, he made a promise to a saint. But, his becoming a monk put into motion a set of events that led directly to the Protestant reformation - calling worship of saints "paganism"; fracturing the church; and starting a bloody century of persecution, warfare, and violence. 400 years later, people took his lesser-known "teachings" and used them to support mass genocide. I wonder which outcome the man upstairs would have preferred.
p.s.
I realize the point of these historical posts was to present German history in a more favorable light. I don't think I did that today. But, maybe it's not about only showing the good periods.... it's about shaking your perceptions about conventional wisdom widely-accepted truths. Or, maybe I decided to write about Luther and then figured out he wasn't that great of a guy after all. History is written by the winners, which means that each period has a dark side to it. Somebody had to lose. More on this next week when I write about "the Nazi that said sorry." Turns out, there's a light side to every dark period as well.
Martin Luther. A man who in 1517 posted the 95 thesis on a church door in Wittenburg, Germany in protest of the abuses of the Catholic Church and turned the middle ages on it's head. Interestingly enough, he attributed his decision to become involved in the church to a thunderstorm in 1505. A bolt of lightening struck the ground near him, and he shouted out in terror, "Help! Saint Anna! I will become a monk!" He viewed this as an unbreakable promise, and joined the Augustinian friary two weeks later.
History class teaches us only the good things about Luther's legacy. We were taught that he saved the masses from the increasing tyranny of the Catholic Church, exposed the abuses of the clergy, and withstood ridicule and persecution for defending his "freedom of conscience." Luther's translation of the Bible into German made scripture more accessible to the people. One historical writer quotes this achievement alone as making him "one of the greatest benefactors of the german-speaking race." I am not going to presume that I am the judge of what is "good" and what is "bad," but these seem to be "good" actions thus far. Up until this point, he had strived to make religion more accessible to the people while freeing them from underneath brutal Catholic rule. Luther did some good things. But, he also wrote that one particular group of people were "base, whoring people, that is, no people of God, and their boast of lineage, circumcision, and law must be accounted as filth." Know who he was talking about? Jews. He wrote that Jews were the "devil's people," and they (Christians) "would not be at fault for slaying them." Seem familiar? The most-famous man in German History used Luther's well-documented anti-semitism as a rallying point 400 years later.
Hitler was undoubtably a horrible human being. He was also a brilliant leader. Not "brilliant" as in "he did great things," but "brilliant" as in an amazing politician. That is the whole reason things in the 1930's and 1940's went so terribly wrong - horrible person combined with the ability to get followers. This should not be a controversial fact, but I'm sure I've offended some people by stating it. On the other hand, Luther is remembered by history as being a champion against the oppressive Catholic Church, while he was just as bigoted and anti-semitic as Hitler. It's an interesting historical paradox.
I can't help but think - one of the safest places to be in a lightning storm is the place where lightening just struck. "Lightening doesn't strike the same place twice." Maybe if Luther had known this, he wouldn't have been such a wuss about a little thunder and lightening. Maybe he wouldn't have made an unbreakable promise to a saint and become a monk. The reason he kept his promise? He was afraid of what would happen on Judgment Day if he didn't. After all, he made a promise to a saint. But, his becoming a monk put into motion a set of events that led directly to the Protestant reformation - calling worship of saints "paganism"; fracturing the church; and starting a bloody century of persecution, warfare, and violence. 400 years later, people took his lesser-known "teachings" and used them to support mass genocide. I wonder which outcome the man upstairs would have preferred.
p.s.
I realize the point of these historical posts was to present German history in a more favorable light. I don't think I did that today. But, maybe it's not about only showing the good periods.... it's about shaking your perceptions about conventional wisdom widely-accepted truths. Or, maybe I decided to write about Luther and then figured out he wasn't that great of a guy after all. History is written by the winners, which means that each period has a dark side to it. Somebody had to lose. More on this next week when I write about "the Nazi that said sorry." Turns out, there's a light side to every dark period as well.
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Aight, it had to happen.
My morning has since done a complete 180 degree turn. You think you know me, but you have nooo idea....
Maggie: TAKE ME TO BED OR LOSE ME FOREVER
Maggie: TAKE ME TO BED OR LOSE ME FOREVER
me: I'LL LOSE YOU, THANKS
i had the worst morning
it became funny, it was so bad
Maggie: haha ok let's hear it
err i'm reading your blog
me: aight. its all explained there... mostly
Maggie: hahahaah you dork.
Maggie: hahahaah you dork.
you're such a whale penis
me : i know... such a whale penis
------45 minutes later---------
Maggie: they're equally good!
p.s. i had a dream that i rescued a dog in a tupperware
me: i had a dream you were having sex with a midget. no joke
Maggie: LMAO
HAHAHAH
no way who ? what's the story? ..or was that it?
me: yeah way
me: well he kept asking if you were close
and you were like no, you're a midget
and you were like no, you're a midget
Maggie: LMAO
LOL lol lol lmao
hahaha
me: hahahahah this is the shit i dont put in my blog.
You just kept saying "fuck you, you're a midget."
You just kept saying "fuck you, you're a midget."
Maggie: hahaha i'm crying i'm laughing so hard
i have to share this, this is so funny
me: i was going to try and explain it to my friends here, but I don't think it translates.
Maggie: yar, that's a difficult one to translate
I will probably end up taking this down in... 30 minutes. But for some reason I thought it would be a fantastic idea... welcome to a snapshot of my life.
----
me: i was going to try and explain it to my friends here, but I don't think it translates.
Maggie: yar, that's a difficult one to translate
best be kept for the natives, yarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
i'm a pirate
me: i dont even know the word for midget
Maggie: ROAR
me: so im guessing that story stays with me.
---- 15 minutes later ----
Maggie: you're a naked mcnakerson
Maggie: you're a naked mcnakerson
me: mcnakerson
hahahhaha
Maggie: it's only the truth!
me: i think your eccentricities rubbed off on me
Maggie: don't worry they make a cream for that
I will probably end up taking this down in... 30 minutes. But for some reason I thought it would be a fantastic idea... welcome to a snapshot of my life.
----
I need einen Kuss.
Good morning, good morning internet readers.... although for me, it has been a pretty shitty morning thus far. I slept in an extra half hour this morning because I convinced myself it would only take me ten minutes to shower, get dressed, and get my ass out the door. False. I got to work an half hour late. In the process, I lost a contact, poked myself in the eye, dropped breakfast on the floor, and cut my upper thigh really badly by running into the edge of my bed. Yes, I ran into a stationary piece of furniture and spent ten minutes trying to bandage myself up - which didn't help me get to work on time. Oh, and I forgot to change out of my "house shoes" so I am wearing black and white polka-dotted flipflops to work.
Basically, I am a mess.
But we shall focus only on the good in this blog. I found my new happy place yesterday. BMW World. Oh dear, it's so pretty.
Saturday and Sunday were absolutely gorgeous days - 80 degrees, sunny, light wind - and I spent them in bed. I decided that yesterday morning, sick or not, I would get up and do something. It was cloudy, raining, and freezing. I am so smart sometimes. Anyway, I went exploring around the Olympic Park - absolutely huge, absolutely empty, and with absolutely the strangest architecture I have ever seen. It was an adventure to say the least. After walking around for an hour or two I saw a building that looked a little less strange than the others. And then I saw it - a blue, white, and black beacon of light that changed my life forever. BMW Welt.
That's BMW World for you non-German speakers. My oh my. Words cannot describe it, pictures cannot do it justice. It is without a doubt my favorite place in München. I decided to wait for Maggie to get here before taking the guided tour, but I mingled with German car-snobs in suits, Asian tourists with cameras, and American teenagers who bitched for ten minutes about how they had to go to Austria today. I didn't feel bad for them (and we wonder why people hate Americans. Really.)
I actually have work to do today, so I'm going to go to my other happy place and listen to country music. Starting off today's lineup- Trace Adkins' Honky tonk Badonkadonk. I am so hick sometimes. Coming soon to a computer near you are the following posts: religion, beer culture, more german history, cultural attitudes about women, and what to do with my life. Get excited.
---
Basically, I am a mess.
But we shall focus only on the good in this blog. I found my new happy place yesterday. BMW World. Oh dear, it's so pretty.
Saturday and Sunday were absolutely gorgeous days - 80 degrees, sunny, light wind - and I spent them in bed. I decided that yesterday morning, sick or not, I would get up and do something. It was cloudy, raining, and freezing. I am so smart sometimes. Anyway, I went exploring around the Olympic Park - absolutely huge, absolutely empty, and with absolutely the strangest architecture I have ever seen. It was an adventure to say the least. After walking around for an hour or two I saw a building that looked a little less strange than the others. And then I saw it - a blue, white, and black beacon of light that changed my life forever. BMW Welt.
That's BMW World for you non-German speakers. My oh my. Words cannot describe it, pictures cannot do it justice. It is without a doubt my favorite place in München. I decided to wait for Maggie to get here before taking the guided tour, but I mingled with German car-snobs in suits, Asian tourists with cameras, and American teenagers who bitched for ten minutes about how they had to go to Austria today. I didn't feel bad for them (and we wonder why people hate Americans. Really.)
I actually have work to do today, so I'm going to go to my other happy place and listen to country music. Starting off today's lineup- Trace Adkins' Honky tonk Badonkadonk. I am so hick sometimes. Coming soon to a computer near you are the following posts: religion, beer culture, more german history, cultural attitudes about women, and what to do with my life. Get excited.
---
Saturday, July 5, 2008
What to do...?
Big business or small business? That is the question.
...At least it's the question I'm faced with now. Here's the deal- I had a rough patch with Munich. A really fucking rough patch. Now that it has passed, I've been enjoying the city, the culture,the people, and the company I'm working for.I've been thinking lately that this is a place I would like to come back to. Penn does have a study abroad program to a university here, but it won't fit with my class schedule. I could come during the summer - Harvard has a really interesting program about European Union politics - but then I would pass up an internship at a critical time. Employers expect you to have a job the summer before senior year to gain work experience. I have had a job since the age of twelve (I was a soccer referee and I'm pretty sure I was employed illegally) so I think this formal "work experience" requirement is bullshit. I have worked nine different jobs in four different industries, including running my own business. If that isn't work experience then I don't know what is. But an internship before senior year is expected, and half of being successful is knowing how to play the game. So, studying abroad next summer is really not an option for me.
The only way I could realistically come back to Munich would be if I had another internship here next summer. Lucky for me, I just got an offer.
Roland said I can come back and work for retarus again next year. He also offered to help me find an internship at a bank in Munich if I want to work in finance instead. I'm stuck- what do I want to do? Marketing or finance? Work in the states or in germany?
I think a lot of my dilemma comes from balancing other people's expectations with my own.I didn't even consider a career in finance until I went to Wharton, and now I'm feeling the pressure to drink the Kool-aid and work for a big bank after graduation. Over forty percent of last year's graduating class went to work in investment banking. A wharton degree usually means a six-figure starting salary, swanky New York apartment, and 100 hour work weeks. Not interested. But there is something to be said for keeping your options open. How do I know I don't want to work in finance unless I try it? Is germany the best place to try it out... Or would it be better to stay in the states?
Being completely honest with yourself is often difficult. Aside from figuring out a career path and location - big decisions in themselves - I am taking time to make sure returning to Munich really aligns with my best interests. We'll see. Any advice would be appreciated :)
---
...At least it's the question I'm faced with now. Here's the deal- I had a rough patch with Munich. A really fucking rough patch. Now that it has passed, I've been enjoying the city, the culture,the people, and the company I'm working for.I've been thinking lately that this is a place I would like to come back to. Penn does have a study abroad program to a university here, but it won't fit with my class schedule. I could come during the summer - Harvard has a really interesting program about European Union politics - but then I would pass up an internship at a critical time. Employers expect you to have a job the summer before senior year to gain work experience. I have had a job since the age of twelve (I was a soccer referee and I'm pretty sure I was employed illegally) so I think this formal "work experience" requirement is bullshit. I have worked nine different jobs in four different industries, including running my own business. If that isn't work experience then I don't know what is. But an internship before senior year is expected, and half of being successful is knowing how to play the game. So, studying abroad next summer is really not an option for me.
The only way I could realistically come back to Munich would be if I had another internship here next summer. Lucky for me, I just got an offer.
Roland said I can come back and work for retarus again next year. He also offered to help me find an internship at a bank in Munich if I want to work in finance instead. I'm stuck- what do I want to do? Marketing or finance? Work in the states or in germany?
I think a lot of my dilemma comes from balancing other people's expectations with my own.I didn't even consider a career in finance until I went to Wharton, and now I'm feeling the pressure to drink the Kool-aid and work for a big bank after graduation. Over forty percent of last year's graduating class went to work in investment banking. A wharton degree usually means a six-figure starting salary, swanky New York apartment, and 100 hour work weeks. Not interested. But there is something to be said for keeping your options open. How do I know I don't want to work in finance unless I try it? Is germany the best place to try it out... Or would it be better to stay in the states?
Being completely honest with yourself is often difficult. Aside from figuring out a career path and location - big decisions in themselves - I am taking time to make sure returning to Munich really aligns with my best interests. We'll see. Any advice would be appreciated :)
---
Friday, July 4, 2008
A little bit of home would be good right about now.
Happy 4th of July!!
What am I doing on this year's Independence Day? Watching the parade in Edina and laughing as little kids scramble for candy, going on the lake with friends and getting sunburned while having a beer, grilling with my family and eating one of Dad's famous burgers, and topping it all off with the fireworks at night.
Wait, no. I'm at work.
America's Independence is of little importance to people in Germany. I will be at work until around 6pm and then I'm going home and going to bed. There is only one thing worse than missing my all-time favorite holiday...being sick and in a foreign country on my all-time favorite holiday. I was originally planning on taking my German friends to a 4th of July party because I feel a responsibility to show them some authentic American culture. I've seen authentic German activities, and I think I should return the favor. But going to a 4th of July party just wouldn't be right. The 4th is a parade, a day on the lake, grilling, and fireworks. It isn't live music at some bar.
Plus, I feel like shit and wouldn't be much fun. I kiiiiind of need a hug.
p.s.
I got a German cellphone because my "international phone" doesn't want to make international calls and it simply refuses to send text messages.
Call me from U.S: 011 49 170 714 3833
From within Germany: 170 714 3833
---
What am I doing on this year's Independence Day? Watching the parade in Edina and laughing as little kids scramble for candy, going on the lake with friends and getting sunburned while having a beer, grilling with my family and eating one of Dad's famous burgers, and topping it all off with the fireworks at night.
Wait, no. I'm at work.
America's Independence is of little importance to people in Germany. I will be at work until around 6pm and then I'm going home and going to bed. There is only one thing worse than missing my all-time favorite holiday...being sick and in a foreign country on my all-time favorite holiday. I was originally planning on taking my German friends to a 4th of July party because I feel a responsibility to show them some authentic American culture. I've seen authentic German activities, and I think I should return the favor. But going to a 4th of July party just wouldn't be right. The 4th is a parade, a day on the lake, grilling, and fireworks. It isn't live music at some bar.
Plus, I feel like shit and wouldn't be much fun. I kiiiiind of need a hug.
p.s.
I got a German cellphone because my "international phone" doesn't want to make international calls and it simply refuses to send text messages.
Call me from U.S: 011 49 170 714 3833
From within Germany: 170 714 3833
---
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Naked Time.
I really try to be a cultured, worldly person. I try to go to art museums and stand thoughtfully in front of the centuries-old paintings. I've even tried either crouching down in front of the painting or standing way up on my toes - maybe changing my perspective on the piece will help me figure out the artist's message. I really, really try. Unfortunately, my reaction to most famous art is more like country singer Brad Paisley's, "You see a priceless French painting, I see a drunk naked girl."
Don't get me wrong, I fully appreciate the skill behind each and every work. Okay that's a lie. At the museum I went to on Monday there was a canvas that was painted red. Just red. No pattern, no shapes, not even a line. Just red. A fucking four-year-old could do that. Interesting side note- a couple of years ago, ABC World News Tonight did an experiment. They had a bunch of five and six year old kids go nuts with finger paints and make pictures. Then they framed these pieces and put them next to work from modern artists. Experts were brought in to see if they could actually tell the difference between the "legitimate" pieces and the kid's artwork. They couldn't. Yes, modern art can be thought provoking and political....sometimes. Most of the time it's not. But for classical works, I do appreciate the skill, talent, and time it took to make such a beautiful piece.
I'm not being very clear. I like art. But I like art in the "pretty colors, cool shapes, amazing skill" kind of way and not the "lets look at the contrast between the styles and see the tension it creates" kind of way. I can do a pretty in-depth analysis if I want to, but it gets exhausting after half an hour. Museums are supposed to be enjoyable, not exhausting.
I went to the Kuntstakademie München (Munich Art Academy) on Monday and was stunned at all of the naked paintings I saw. I had two thoughts:
1. Why is it considered art to paint a naked figure, but it's pornography to photograph one?
2. Ohhh, so that's how artists got women naked. They may have been nuts, but they were clever. Since most famous artists were certifiably crazy, they had to figure out some way to get women naked.
Another thing that stunned me was the type of woman they painted. More specifically, their skin color. They were all exceptionally pale.
Throughout my life, people have given me tips on how to make my skin darker. I could go to a tanning bed, I could lay out in the sun more, I could put on some sort of temporary tanning cream. I don't know if tanning beds and sunlight will make me darker. They might just make me burn. Even in the summertime I am still very, very pale. So pale, I sometimes reflect the sunlight. Thankfully my freckles make me appear a shade darker but are considered "imperfections... and you can do things to lighten those, you know." So I need to darken my skin and lighten my freckles. My mom used to tell me freckles were angel kisses, and everybody else was just jealous because they clearly weren't loved enough.
Well guess what - the naked girls from the famous paintings were all very, very pale too. So what did I learn at the museums last weekend? Modern art sucks, classical art took a lot of skill, and my skin color would be considered the epitome of beauty... if only I had lived three hundred years ago.
Dammit.
---
Don't get me wrong, I fully appreciate the skill behind each and every work. Okay that's a lie. At the museum I went to on Monday there was a canvas that was painted red. Just red. No pattern, no shapes, not even a line. Just red. A fucking four-year-old could do that. Interesting side note- a couple of years ago, ABC World News Tonight did an experiment. They had a bunch of five and six year old kids go nuts with finger paints and make pictures. Then they framed these pieces and put them next to work from modern artists. Experts were brought in to see if they could actually tell the difference between the "legitimate" pieces and the kid's artwork. They couldn't. Yes, modern art can be thought provoking and political....sometimes. Most of the time it's not. But for classical works, I do appreciate the skill, talent, and time it took to make such a beautiful piece.
I'm not being very clear. I like art. But I like art in the "pretty colors, cool shapes, amazing skill" kind of way and not the "lets look at the contrast between the styles and see the tension it creates" kind of way. I can do a pretty in-depth analysis if I want to, but it gets exhausting after half an hour. Museums are supposed to be enjoyable, not exhausting.
I went to the Kuntstakademie München (Munich Art Academy) on Monday and was stunned at all of the naked paintings I saw. I had two thoughts:
1. Why is it considered art to paint a naked figure, but it's pornography to photograph one?
2. Ohhh, so that's how artists got women naked. They may have been nuts, but they were clever. Since most famous artists were certifiably crazy, they had to figure out some way to get women naked.
Another thing that stunned me was the type of woman they painted. More specifically, their skin color. They were all exceptionally pale.
Throughout my life, people have given me tips on how to make my skin darker. I could go to a tanning bed, I could lay out in the sun more, I could put on some sort of temporary tanning cream. I don't know if tanning beds and sunlight will make me darker. They might just make me burn. Even in the summertime I am still very, very pale. So pale, I sometimes reflect the sunlight. Thankfully my freckles make me appear a shade darker but are considered "imperfections... and you can do things to lighten those, you know." So I need to darken my skin and lighten my freckles. My mom used to tell me freckles were angel kisses, and everybody else was just jealous because they clearly weren't loved enough.
Well guess what - the naked girls from the famous paintings were all very, very pale too. So what did I learn at the museums last weekend? Modern art sucks, classical art took a lot of skill, and my skin color would be considered the epitome of beauty... if only I had lived three hundred years ago.
Dammit.
---
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Ehl-leez-a-bit.
Elizabeth. Ehl - leez - a - bit. No, it's Elizabeth. Ehl-leez-a-bet.
Good god I didn't realize my name could be so difficult. The second week I worked here, a couple of people asked me, "what would you like to be called?" Elizabeth. I would like to be called Elizabeth. "Isn't that a... hard... name?" No, not really. It's a little bit long, but deal with it.
When I got into Wharton, I decided that I would use "Elizabeth" as my name in the business world. It's a serious, strong, don't-fuck-with-me type of name. You see, in the USA women still have to act like men in certain ways to get ahead in business. Just look at our women CEO's (or Hillary Clinton. Seriously. I'm pretty sure she has testicles.) Extremely unattractive- short hair, baggy or loose clothing, no feminine qualities, etc. I attended a business etiquette dinner where they said that women should never take off their jackets at a formal business dinner. Apparently, our boobs are distracting. I apologize. I have boobs. I have long hair. I don't wear slutty clothing, but I will not wear a potato sack to board meetings so that other people feel more comfortable.
I will not grow a penis so that I can get ahead in business.
Instead, I will take on a more serious name. Elizabeth. No cutesy nickname, no masculine tendencies.
That was the master plan, anyway. I didn't realize that Germans have issues with the "-th" sound. They really try to get it right but it's completely hopeless. The "-beth" part of my name turns out to be "bet" or "bit" or some weird mutation of the word that makes no sense. It makes me laugh :)
Alright, so I have issues with my name. Hi, I am Elizabeth Mary Schneider, also known as Rojo, Betsy, Liz, Elizabeth, El-leez-a-bit, and Lizzy. I promise there is a reason why I am known by so many different names, none of which involve trying to cover up past crimes.
When I was little, I was called Betsy. Little baby Betsy. Cute. Then, I went to high school and somehow convinced myself that "Betsy" sounds like "Bessie," a cow's name. I decided to change to Liz when I went to college. Wharton is an east-coast school in every sense of the term - over 80% of the student body seems to come from New Jersey. They're loud, they're proud, they're completely and utterly retarded. After hearing that I was from Minnesota, someone actually asked me what life was like in Canada. This person got into Wharton somehow? Unglaublich. I thought the switch would be a good idea - those who didn't think I lived in Canada had this image of everyone from Minnesota living on a farm, having two or three children by the age of 21, missing a few teeth, and being an overall idiot. I wanted to move as far away from this stereotype as possible, including shedding the name "Betsy" and switching to "Liz."
As it turns out, Liz is probably the most boring name... ever. Betsy may be a little bit old-fashioned, but at least it has some spunk to it. Liz is boring. Plain. Vanilla. For those of you who know me as one name or the other - I don't expect you to switch. Please keep calling me whatever you have been calling me, unless you strongly prefer one name or the other. I will respond to most things directed my way, including some very inappropriate nicknames that are not fit to print.
Well my plan to be taken seriously in business by using the name Elizabeth is failing miserably. Germans have given up on the "-th" sound altogether and instead started calling me Liz or Lizzy. Yuck. I've told my friends here to call me Betsy. Altogether, this little experiment has been a complete failure.
Note to self - work in a country where "-th" isn't a painful noise to make.
---
Good god I didn't realize my name could be so difficult. The second week I worked here, a couple of people asked me, "what would you like to be called?" Elizabeth. I would like to be called Elizabeth. "Isn't that a... hard... name?" No, not really. It's a little bit long, but deal with it.
When I got into Wharton, I decided that I would use "Elizabeth" as my name in the business world. It's a serious, strong, don't-fuck-with-me type of name. You see, in the USA women still have to act like men in certain ways to get ahead in business. Just look at our women CEO's (or Hillary Clinton. Seriously. I'm pretty sure she has testicles.) Extremely unattractive- short hair, baggy or loose clothing, no feminine qualities, etc. I attended a business etiquette dinner where they said that women should never take off their jackets at a formal business dinner. Apparently, our boobs are distracting. I apologize. I have boobs. I have long hair. I don't wear slutty clothing, but I will not wear a potato sack to board meetings so that other people feel more comfortable.
I will not grow a penis so that I can get ahead in business.
Instead, I will take on a more serious name. Elizabeth. No cutesy nickname, no masculine tendencies.
That was the master plan, anyway. I didn't realize that Germans have issues with the "-th" sound. They really try to get it right but it's completely hopeless. The "-beth" part of my name turns out to be "bet" or "bit" or some weird mutation of the word that makes no sense. It makes me laugh :)
Alright, so I have issues with my name. Hi, I am Elizabeth Mary Schneider, also known as Rojo, Betsy, Liz, Elizabeth, El-leez-a-bit, and Lizzy. I promise there is a reason why I am known by so many different names, none of which involve trying to cover up past crimes.
When I was little, I was called Betsy. Little baby Betsy. Cute. Then, I went to high school and somehow convinced myself that "Betsy" sounds like "Bessie," a cow's name. I decided to change to Liz when I went to college. Wharton is an east-coast school in every sense of the term - over 80% of the student body seems to come from New Jersey. They're loud, they're proud, they're completely and utterly retarded. After hearing that I was from Minnesota, someone actually asked me what life was like in Canada. This person got into Wharton somehow? Unglaublich. I thought the switch would be a good idea - those who didn't think I lived in Canada had this image of everyone from Minnesota living on a farm, having two or three children by the age of 21, missing a few teeth, and being an overall idiot. I wanted to move as far away from this stereotype as possible, including shedding the name "Betsy" and switching to "Liz."
As it turns out, Liz is probably the most boring name... ever. Betsy may be a little bit old-fashioned, but at least it has some spunk to it. Liz is boring. Plain. Vanilla. For those of you who know me as one name or the other - I don't expect you to switch. Please keep calling me whatever you have been calling me, unless you strongly prefer one name or the other. I will respond to most things directed my way, including some very inappropriate nicknames that are not fit to print.
Well my plan to be taken seriously in business by using the name Elizabeth is failing miserably. Germans have given up on the "-th" sound altogether and instead started calling me Liz or Lizzy. Yuck. I've told my friends here to call me Betsy. Altogether, this little experiment has been a complete failure.
Note to self - work in a country where "-th" isn't a painful noise to make.
---
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
Deutsche Geschichte - Friedrich Wilhelm Ludolf Gerhard Augustin von Steuben
With the fourth of July coming up at the end of this week, I thought it would be appropriate to introduce you all to a German general who helped make our independence possible. In school, we often discussed the French naval contributions that helped us win the war against King George III. I had no idea the Germans also contributed to our victory.During the hard winter of 1777-1778 at Valley Forge, the Continental Army underwent rigorous training to become a disciplined fighting force. They suffered terrible losses due to cold, sickness, and hunger, but those that survived the winter gained the skills necessary to beat the English Army. The man in responsible for this transformation was German.
I present to you Friedrich Wilhelm Ludolf Gerhard Augustin von Steuben.
Small side note: he has five first names. People here think "Elizabeth" is a hard name to pronounce. False. Friedrich Wilhelm Ludolf Gerhard Augustin von Steuben is a hard name to pronounce. I wonder what his lovers called him in bed...? Freddy? Willy? Ludolf Gerhard Augustin? I digress. Back to the topic.
P.S. - for those of you tempted to stop reading because you're not into history, please keep reading. I promise you it is an interesting story. I don't write about boring shit.
Von Steuben did not help the American cause because of his ideals. He helped the American cause because a series of circumstances backed him into a corner. He had no other option. Von Steuben was a military man; by the age of seventeen he was an officer in the Prussian Army. He rose quickly to the rank of captain, but was suddenly out of a job when the Prussian Army reduced its numbers following the Seven Years' War. He then falsified his lineage, calling himself "Baron," and went to France hoping to borrow money. Disgrace soon followed. He returned to Germany deeply in debt and was thrown out of the Hohenzollern-Hechingen court following accusations that he was homosexual and had inappropriate sexual contact with young boys.
Fortunately, Von Steuben was still friendly with the French Minister of War. He travelled to Paris in the summer of 1777, where they saw his knowledge of Prussian fighting as potentially valuable to the American cause. He was introduced to Benjamin Franklin, who wrote a letter to George Washington recommending Von Steuben for his service. Once again, Von Steuben's credentials were overinflated. This could have been due to an error in translation, or Von Steuben could have lied about his past - after his disgrace in Germany he was finding it nearly impossible to find a job in any other army. However, he was accepted into the American service shortly thereafter. During the winter of 1777-1778, Von Steuben was responsible for turning the Continental Army into a well-disciplined fighting force. He designed a training program based on a "model company," a group of 120 men who then trained soldiers at the regiment and brigade levels. Funny story - he swore a lot, but didn't speak much English. After becoming frustrated that his soldiers didn't understand his cursing, he got a translator to swear at his troops for him in English.
True to his German upbringing, von Steuben was very disciplined. He was the first to implement camp sanitation in the Continental Army - regulations which remained the standard for army sanitation for over 150 years. He provided his troops with extensive bayonet training that was crucial in later battles of the war. The next winter (1778-1779), he wrote Regulations for the Order and Discipline of the Troops of the United States based on the training program implemented at Valley Forge.
This German discipline paid off. Many historians regard the winter spent at Valley Forge to be a turning point for the Continental Army. Before the winter, the army was an untrained, rag-tag band of farmers with muskets. After the winter, they became a trained fighting force capable of winning against the English Army.
Von Steuben never married, never had any children, and enjoyed a "extraordinarily intense emotional relationship" with his male aides. While it was never proven that he was a homosexual, it is interesting that today's military openly persecutes gays when we owe a part of our independence to a gay man. Without the training provided to our army by von Steuben, who knows what would have happened. Maybe there would be no America, maybe there would be. One can only speculate.
Have a happy fourth of July, and special thanks to Wikipedia for the interesting facts about Friedrich Wilhelm Ludolf Gerhard Augstin von Steuben.
Next week: Portrait of a famous German artist.
---
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