Douglas-fir Blog

I was just thinking recently, as I went through several folders of my photos from Germany, what a crazy adventure it was.
No, really.
Granted, there are crazier adventures one can embark on. Studying in Germany for a year doesn’t approach, say, going to Burkina Faso with the Peace Corps on the Crazy Adventure Index. There are as many ways German life feels familiar to someone from the U.S. as there are ways it feels different. And overall, Germany offers a quality of life unmatched almost anywhere in Europe. It isn't hard to live in Germany, but it’s unquestionably a great adventure.


< Ripening grainfield, late spring, outskirts of Ludwigsburg. >

When I landed in Stuttgart in September 2006, I was sort of a green college student: I had been at Portland State for one year, and (although I had done my share of traveling) I had never moved from my hometown of Portland. Making my way to the main part of the airport, with no one to meet me, carrying only a crinkled sheet of paper describing how to get to Tübingen and 70 pounds of everything else I had on my back in a large trekking backpack... there was no doubt I was on a great adventure. Even though I knew where I was going and how to get there, I felt lost during that first morning. On the trip to Tübingen, the beautiful Schönbuch forest passed outside the bus windows like something out of a dream. When I got into Tübingen, I was tired, having gotten little sleep on the airplane, and I generally felt bewildered. It was so much to take in. I strapped on my enormous pack and wandered more or less in the direction of the youth hostel where I would stay until the beginning of the study program. As I approached the Neckar River, a friend from PSU who was in the same program spotted me. At that moment, I ceased feeling lost, and did not feel lost for the rest of my month in Tübingen.

That first month was the most amazing, crazy, fun, and educational month in memory for me (my posts about it can be found on the Douglas-fir archives site). After that month, all the Oregon students parted ways, some staying in Tübingen, while others headed for Freiburg, Ulm, Mannheim, Stuttgart, Heidelberg... and Ludwigsburg. The adventure continued. I have lots of photos and information on this blog about the year I spent in Ludwigsburg, as well as the other places I visited in Europe. Of course, I’m glad to answer questions about studying in Germany that students interested in going there may have; send me an e-mail anytime.

In the meantime, some photos from the vault that I never got around to publishing on my blog, shown for the first time...


< If you’ve lived in Oregon or 10 other U.S. states, you know the drill. If not, get used to it: bottle deposits and bottle returns. While refillable containers are rare in the U.S. nowadays, they are common in Germany, not only for beverages, but also for milk and yogurt. I have an earlier post about this subject (and grocery shopping in general). >


< View of the Bodensee from the castle at Meersburg >


< Picnic lunch under an old, shady tree, Meersburg >


< At a wedding in Berlin I was invited to >


< Members of our church group went together on a van rental to go to Berlin together. What a great group of people! We’re from all over the world: Germany, Guatemala, El Salvador, India, China, Peru, USA. Many in the church group (which meets at the University of Stuttgart) are international students. >


< The Americans held a Fourth of July party at the Studentendorf. Students playing with sparklers. >


< Crystal lights a firework at the Fourth of July party. >


< Magda and Francesca are exhausted after the party. >

One year ago, I was living in my little apartment in Ludwigsburg. Exactly six months ago, I was in England with my family, preparing to cross the Atlantic to the United States. Today, as I look back at the last six months I’ve been in the States, two questions about my experience in Europe figure prominently in my mind: “Was it all a dream?” and “How do I get back?”
On the one hand, I’ve adjusted very well to life back home. It’s wonderful being close to family and friends again. Many features of everyday live have gone on the way they always have—to be expected, of course. Others have changed dramatically. The church I’ve known since childhood no longer exists. My (paternal) grandparents’ health has declined rapidly, forcing the sale of their home of forty years, in order for them to be closer to family.
Many things, however, seem unchanged. I am back at Portland State, chugging along and getting pesky general requirements I’ve been putting off out of the way. Downtown is torn up. The MAX train takes as long as usual, and is filled with people yacking away on cell phones, also as usual. The cats are as weird as usual. Fred Meyer is in the same spot, offering the same American grocery experience (I knew before I left that grocery shopping would be one of the major facets of German everyday life I would miss).
So, to answer the first question, life has in many ways continued on so normally that it does sometimes seem like it was all a dream.
As for the second question, I’m still figuring it out. More on that later.


< A happy reunion with Pete >


< A bittersweet goodbye, inside the empty and condemned church building where many childhood memories were made. In its place will be a Taco Bell. >

As I write, we are gliding on calm waters somewhere in the North Atlantic Ocean, making our way for New York. We are on a beautiful, large ocean liner, the Queen Mary II. The sea has not been rough. The past couple of days, the ocean has been as black as obsidian under stern clouds, and this morning it was so foggy that one could hardly see a few yards past the railing. I looked out again, though, just before noon, and to my astonishment, the fog had vanished, and the sea is now a striking turquoise under a clear sky, with pastel-hued clouds streaking the horizons. It is a glorious sight.

We have all been faring well on our voyage. Before we departed for New York, we spent several days in England, where we were showered with hospitality by friends of my Mom’s from Essex, and indeed everywhere we went. We also saw the sights of London for an afternoon, including the Tower of London.


< All together again, London >

I’m still curious how I’ll react when I enter the land of Wal-Marts and the home of the Hummer H2 once again, although New York is as good as foreign territory for us Oregonians anyway when it comes to cultural perceptions. I do think it definitely helps to return in stages. Another benefit of this is the slowly adjusting time difference. Since the second day at sea, the clock has been shifting back one hour each day. I should be using this hour to get some extra sleep, but I’ve tended instead to add an extra hour to my day.



We speed on through the waters. In a couple of days, the Statue of Liberty will come into view over the waters, beckoning, and I will arrive in my homeland. I will see the same sight that so many thousands saw as they glimpsed America for the first time, their uncertainty about emigrating from the land and life they’d always known, most likely never to return, to come to a strange land… that fear perhaps quelled by their excitement at the chance to build a new life.

How things have changed! Ocean liners are now equipped with electronic navigation systems, stabilizers, satellite internet access, not to mention all the comforts of a hotel even for “steerage” passengers. Cramped airline seats and plastic food, while not pleasant, have thankfully replaced the worse discomforts of emigrating by ship in those bygone days.

My reasons for traveling, of course, are much different, as are the times in which I live, but I can’t help but feel the ghosts of history over this ancient route: My ancestors came to America from Europe over these seas, and my heritage and cultural roots lie firmly in Europe. Will I return to the continent they came from and build a new life there? When, how, or even if, I do not know.

Whatever the case, I’m certainly starting a new adventure. As I’ve strolled the deck, the verses of Walt Whitman have often come to mind:


O we can wait no longer,
We too take ship O soul,
Joyous we too launch out on trackless seas,
Fearless for unknown shores on waves of ecstasy to sail,
Amid the wafting winds…
Caroling free, singing our song of God,
Chanting our chant of pleasant exploration.

O daring joy, but safe! are they not all seas of God?



< First evening at sea, off the coast of England >

Wow.

I could write pages and pages about the last little more than a week that has passed since Thursday, the 26th. I hardly know where to start. I could write so much about just that day. Suffice it to say that on that morning, after a punishing all-nighter preparing my room to move out of, I took the train to Frankfurt and met my family as they came out the door into the area of the airport where reunions wait to happen. It was a very special moment, and there were big hugs all around. We were all together again after a year apart.

Between that moment and the present one has been a European adventure as well as a family one: we’ve been around Germany, drove through eastern France, saw Luxembourg, and are now in Prague, in the Czech Republic. We’ve also experienced being a family together once again, and working through challenges including, but not limited to moving me out of my room, which was a major undertaking that I couldn’t have done before my deadline without my family’s help. We did it though, and after I passed the Hausmeister’s notoriously thorough inspection, I handed over my key, and was officially moved out. Even as we had fun together, I experienced a succession of difficult moments of realization: moving out of my room, finishing the last of the remaining formalities at the PH-Ludwigsburg, closing the last of my accounts in Germany, and finally, leaving Germany itself for the last time in this season of my life. These moments all pounded in the reality of my leaving my home of one year, one by one, harder and harder. I’m finding myself mourning somewhat, even as I enjoy traveling in Europe with my family. In Germany, I translated much of the time and was familiar with cultural, historical, and geographical aspects that made me the natural tour guide for the family. On the morning of the 3rd, we went to the Dortmund airport and got on an airplane bound for Prague, and at that moment, my German language immersion vanished, and I believe at that point more than any other, the finality of my tine in Germany hit me.

We are now in the beautiful city of Prague, where, unlike other places we have stayed up until this point, we have free wireless internet, which enables me to post this report. Despite having to dodge swarms of tourists, we are thoroughly enjoying ourselves here, following the steps of Mozart, taking in the picturesque architecture of the old city, and generally relaxing after all the moving about we’ve done. In spite of this, I’ve found myself feeling uncomfortable being in an environment where I don’t speak the local language at all; my sole knowledge of Czech comes from the short time I took some Russian, another Slavic language, at PSU. However, that doesn’t help much except for guessing some basic words. I prefer to have at least a rudimentary grasp on the local language before I visit a place, or else to have a local contact with whom I could start to learn it there. Even in French I could comfortably blunder my way along, and probably improve my skills on the way, but I dislike having to resort to English all the time. On the other hand, perhaps I’m feeling so strongly this way now because I’ve just left Germany. It’s hard to sort everything out at the moment.

Regardless of that, however, I’m having a wonderful adventure here with my family. Tomorrow, we fly to England, our last stop before returning to the States. More updates can be expected, although they might take a while, since internet access and time to write will most likely be scarce until I’m in Portland.

I'm living in a surreal world at the moment; this is my last day living here alone in Germany. The family arrives tomorrow morning. I can imagine that morning dimly: taking the train to Frankfurt, arriving at the airport, finding the correct terminal, waiting, and then... they'll appear like a vision. I'm sure I'll cry. This past week and especially the last few days have been emotionally intense and difficult for me. The mix of emotional extremes: elation at seeing my family again, and sadness about leaving my home of a whole year, and leaving the life I've built in some small way in Germany... I don't know how to sort it out.

It's been very stressful getting ready. I've not only had to tear apart my whole room, sort all the stuff, and either pack it or get rid of it, but I also must have the whole general area of the house pristine when the Hausmeister comes on Friday morning to inspect the place and take my key. At that point, I will no longer reside at Montessoriweg 20.

Tomorrow morning, I take the train to Frankfurt. My head feels like it's about to burst. My stomach has been in a knot for days. Sometimes my stay in Germany felt like ten days, sometimes like ten years, but now, as I sit here, surrounded by stacks of stuff and bags, it feels like I'm about to leave an entire season of my life. Which I am. But that doesn't have to be a bad thing; I will be moving into a new season that holds more adventure and promise and chances to seek and follow God's leading.

And, once the family arrives, it will be a wonderful time to explore Europe and enjoy being together in this fascinating world after a year of separation. Once the stress and turmoil of this moment passes, I will be able to take a breather in between my “Germany” season of life and whatever is next, and I'll be able to enjoy it with my family. What that experience of being together again will be like, I can only imagine; I have never been separated like this for so long before. What I’m able to imagine in this moment is only like the hint of a sweet fragrance, the source of which is elusive.


< A ghostly reflection of myself on my window, standing in a partially cleared-out room, testing a loaded backpack. The dazed appearance of the reflection mirrors my state of mind right now. >


< My last little while here has involved many good-byes. This group photo with two of my neighbors, Magdalena (“Magda”) and Christian (“Izzy”), and myself was taken just before Magda left for Croatia for a vacation. Lindsay, my other neighbor, is on vacation in Italy. >

Yesterday marked the beginning of my last month living in Germany, the month of July. The feeling is strange. After living here for a year and going through many ups and downs, highlights and doldrums, experiencing the extraordinary and the mundane of German life, my mood about returning to Portland is just as mixed. I’ve missed my family all year, despite the ability to call home anytime I want. There are also aspects of Portland and its surroundings, and America in general that I will be glad to have again (e.g., our Oregon wilderness that’s actually wild right at hand, stores open around the clock). On the other hand, I now feel very at home in Germany. I will naturally keep in contact with people I’ve gotten to know here, but I know I will miss certain small aspects of life: the picturesque old villages, the bakeries with their wonderful fresh rolls on practically every corner, everything I need being located within walking distance, and the generally relaxed pace of life as compared to home. And yes, I’ll miss the German language, even though I will try to find opportunities to speak it in Portland. I feel like I have a foot in two countries and two continents now.

Life has, in general, been fairly uneventful for the last little while. There are a couple items of note.

Last week, starting Thursday, the internet went down for most people in the student housing buildings, including myself. I unwittingly caused a panic at home when I suddenly dropped off the radar and didn’t respond to e-mails or voice messages. The internet connection stayed down through the whole weekend. On Sunday, a poster put up by “Anonymous Internet Junkies” on the entrances to the buildings called the student population to action, making public the provider’s hard-to-come-by technical support hotline and encouraging the afflicted to call and complain. The poster displayed an almost Texan sense of libertarianism and citizens’ justice that I found amusing to see in outraged Germans demanding their internet back. Whether the “wanted poster” did the trick or not, I do not know, but the problem was fixed when I got up on Monday morning. I was shaken when I opened Skype and heard the series of increasingly alarmed voice messages, and when I had my first conversation with home since the blackout, and realized how worried everyone had been. It made us all think about how much we depend on the internet to communicate.


< Translation: “No internet since Thursday!!!!! / Screw tuition fees and global warming; the important thing is that our internet works! / Fight for your right: / Kabel BW hotline / Everyone call and demand that the tech support people do something today! / An initiative of Anonymous Internet Junkies” >

Just yesterday, I had an experience that reminded me starkly of my mortality, while at the same time renewed my thankfulness for the blessings I have. I had taken an evening stroll by the river, and as it was dusk, I walked back by way of the eastern path bordering Favoritepark, the same path along which the poppies were in bloom a few weeks ago. Lining the park side of this path are ancient trees towering over 100 feet above the ground. I had walked about to the eastern gate of the park when I heard what sounded like several gunshots behind me. I whirled around just in time to see a branch the size of a small tree come crashing down from one of the giant trees onto the path I had just been walking on. The path appeared to be completely barricaded, the blockage higher than a man. For the first few seconds, I was merely astonished by the sight. I didn’t retrace my steps for a closer look, but walked on, pondering. In all of my walking, pausing, stopping, and the way I’d paced myself that evening, if I had, by some short stop or slight slowing of pace, been about 30 seconds slower, so that I was under that spot when the limb came down, I have little doubt that I would have been killed.



I decided to get up early the next morning and photograph the fallen limb. I started out at about 5:15 and reached it about fifteen minutes later. Although only seven hours had passed, all during the night, the debris had already been cleared. Up close, I was able to see how massive the limb was: the diameter of the main limb was as wide as the trunk of most any given tree around the school.


< The section of path onto which the limb fell. Notice the trail of sawdust on the path where the limb lay. >


< The place from which the limb broke off was approximately 30-40 feet above the ground. >


< Standing next to the debris, which, even after being somewhat broken down, are still taller than me. >

< Who, me? >


< Spring and damp weather have heralded the appearance of many critters, including these snails. >


< It’s the season of long days, warm weather… and flowers. The poppies are in bloom in the fields on the east side of Favoritepark, which is about a 10-minute walk from my house. The flowers are a wonderful sight to behold. I took this picture several weeks ago, at about 8 o’clock in the morning. >


As spring gives way to summer, the weather has gone from warm and dry to hot, humid, and frequently stormy. Often, on a warm afternoon, thunder can be heard echoing in the distance. Other times, however, the storm passes directly overhead. This happened last Saturday; the temperature had worked its way up to the high seventies (Fahrenheit) over the early afternoon, when I decided to take the train into Ludwigsburg. By the time the train came, the wind had picked up, thunder could be heard, dark clouds were building up, and the temperature was dropping noticeably. In the few minutes it took the train to get to Ludwigsburg, the storm had reached the town, and wind and heavy rain lashed down. I almost hadn't taken my umbrella. I was very glad I did. I got on a bus, and rode through town, watching the chaos. People were caught off-guard by the storm, and many were wearing T-shirts, shorts, and skirts, and no jackets. By the time I got to my destination, it was chilly (I’m guessing mid-sixties), and I was wishing I had a jacket. Silt-laden, rust-colored water rushed over the small farm roads next to the grain fields, flowing right over drains that were already backed up with rainwater. The lightning was almost directly overhead, and the thunder was ear-splitting. I was playing the “storm” section from Richard Strauss’ Alpine Symphony in my head. The storm rolled by, and a little later, the rain had slacked off to a trickle. By that evening, the weather was warm and pleasant again. Later that night, I read in the news that flash floods in Switzerland had caused three deaths.



< Poppy blossom >


< Blackberry blossom >

Sometime during my months here, I got the crazy idea of visiting the tiny nation of Luxembourg. Why? Perhaps I felt it was out of the way, a little country compact enough to see in a few days and on a small budget. I had read that the capital city, also called Luxembourg, is listed as a UNESCO World Heritage Site on account of its old fortifications, portions of which remain to this day. I also read about the countryside and picturesque small towns in the North and East of the country. To be sure, Luxembourg doesn’t appear on most people’s lists of Top European Destinations. It’s mostly known as a financial center and corporate tax haven. But I decided I’d check it out. Justin, my friend from PSU, came up from Freiburg and joined me on the trip. (Check out Justin’s blog)



It didn’t take me long to realize that Luxembourg is one of Europe’s best kept secrets. I don’t think I’ve ever fallen in love with a city quite the way I did with Luxembourg. If I had to use just one word to describe it, “Charm” would do very well. Of course, it depends on what you like to do, but if you like to just spend a few days taking in a beautiful, historic city, Luxembourg is the place. The city itself is fairly compact; the entire city has only about 80,000 residents. The most striking feature of the city is its central area that seems to rise straight out of a narrow valley through which flows the Alzette. What I had read about the old fortifications, and the few pictures I’d seen, didn’t prepare me for the sheer enormousness of them. It is no wonder that the city has been known for centuries as the “Gibraltar of the North.” Atop these fortifications are many grand old buildings and churches; below them are quaint old houses. It all looks like a storybook city, something out of an illustration with knights and princesses. There are many bridges going over the river valley, and standing on one of them, I got the same sort of feeling I got when looking out over the Grand Canyon, despite the two being beyond comparison where size is concerned. Nonetheless, Luxembourg offers a wealth of impressive panoramas.



< The youth hostel we where we stayed in Luxembourg City is the red-and-white building at the base of the bridge. >


< And in America, we get excited about centennial celebrations! >

The Grand Duchy of Luxembourg, as a country, has a history going back to the 10th century. Hemmed in by Germany, France, and Belgium, Luxembourg’s culture has a mix of French and German elements. Despite a policy of neutrality at the start of both world wars, the country endured German occupation during both conflicts, and was caught in the middle of the Battle of the Bulge during the winter of 1944/45, suffering much destruction. But despite the many outside influences over the course of its history, Luxembourg has kept a strong national identity. An important symbol of this identity is the national language, Lëtzebuergesch, which is one of three official languages, alongside French and German. Lëtzebuergesch is a dialect of German that has been standardized. It is easy for German speakers to read; it looks like poorly written German. It is more difficult for German speakers to understand spoken Lëtzebuergesch. It has borrowed many words from French and has a more French sound than other German dialects of the region, though it is not a Romance language and not mutually intelligible with French. Luxembourg’s independent spirit is captured in its motto: Mir wëlle bleiwe wat mir sinn (We wish to remain what we are). To show the similarities between Lëtzebuergesch and German, compare the motto with its German translation: Wir wollen bleiben was wir sind.




The mix of French and German one encounters in Luxembourg can be bewildering. French is the main language of business and government, but especially toward the German border, where Germans regularly congregate to take advantage of Luxembourg’s lower sales tax, the sprinkling of German can be amusing. Even in Luxembourg City, we found examples that struck us as humorous, such as the case of a Pizza Hut and a McDonald’s across from each other in a square in the city center—Pizza Hut’s menu is in French, McDonald’s is in German. My French skills are weak, I never got very far speaking it before having to switch to German or English. Justin speaks French much better than I do.


< On this receipt from a grocery store near Wasserbillig, French is used to inform the customer about points earned (or that could have been earned) with a loyalty card, while German is used to thank the customer for visiting, and to give the business hours. >


The trip began on April 1, a Sunday. I had to leave at 6:30 in the morning, and naturally, I ended up staying awake all night before my departure. I had chosen the cheapest train connections possible, which meant a journey of eight hours as opposed to five. Three of those hours alone were spent in the S-Bahn between Mosbach and Homburg, which also passes through Heidelberg and Mannheim along the way. There were more than forty stops on this section of the route, averaging about five minutes apart. The rest of the trip was in regional trains, which don’t stop quite as often; nonetheless, the trains I took stopped in every town worth mentioning between Ludwigsburg and Luxembourg. I managed to get a good chunk of Lord of the Rings read before sheer fatigue rendered my brain useless for the task. I rolled into Luxembourg at about 2:30 in the afternoon. I will supplement my current report with verbatim quotations from the journal I kept during the trip:

[From April 1 Entry]
‘I arrived in Luxembourg Ville stressed, tired, hungry, and thirsty, but full of excitement, for this was a place I had longed to see for quite some time. And what a place! […] It was impressive enough to leave Justin and me gaping in astonishment. After Justin and I had eaten (we ate at Subway, and had quite the time ordering in French), we strolled in the pleasant evening air, enjoying the sights and the colors of spring, now more and more evident everywhere. After a leisurely evening, we returned to the youth hostel. I was glad I’d already made up my bed, because I was ready to drop into it!’

We spent the next day exploring the city some more. I took lots of pictures!


< Sightseeing >


< The Alzette River >


< The bridge from which the previous photo was taken >


< The beautiful Notre Dame cathedral in the center of the city >


< Me? A tourist? >


< Goofing around >


< From above… >


< …and below. >


The third day was much anticipated, for we planned to tour the Luxembourg countryside and spend the night in a lakeside village. But that wasn’t the half of it. Our mode of transportation just happened to be (cue the heavy metal music)…



[From April 3 Entry]
‘If I could sum up in one word the events of the day, it would be “Yeeeeeee-haw!” For today, for the first time in seven months, I got behind the wheel of a car. We got up early, had breakfast, and checked out. Then we walked to the car rental agency, which took us about forty minutes. There, we went through all the legal mumbo jumbo, which took another half-hour. We got Justin added on as a driver […] We got pictures of ourselves and our car, a cobalt blue Renault Clio, and, we thought, quite cool looking. Then, the two road warriors, neither of whom had driven in Europe yet, prepared to set off. I started. I was so nervous. I prayed aloud before we started off. Then, it was on to the street. The car handles very nicely. The five-speed manual tranny was as smooth as could be, much better than the one on the Toyota at home. We made for the freeway. The whole time I drove, I was so thankful to have Justin navigating […] We stopped at Wasserbillig first, got some groceries for lunch, then (by accident) crossed into Germany and drove to Echternach, where we had lunch by the river. From there, Justin drove to Diekirch […] From there, I drove to Clervaux, a beautiful town at the base of a steep-sided valley. From there, we drove to Wiltz with Justin at the wheel. […] From there, I drove the rest of the way to Lultzhausen, our youth hostel stop for the night. Justin didn’t want to do any more driving; we arrived at the youth hostel and were finished checking in by about six, with two good hours of daylight left. Thus, I set out in the car to drive around on my own; my journey took me through many little villages, and I crossed briefly into Belgium. For travelers used to following road maps of areas of the US, the distances and scale of my map of Luxembourg were decieving [sic]: everything took less time to reach than it appeared on the map, and after driving all over the country, we were still showing 7/8 tank of gas when we arrived at the hostel. More to write, but too tired.’


< On the freeway between Luxembourg City and Wasserbillig >


< Route-planning in Wasserbillig >


< Diekirch >


< Clervaux >


< On the road between Clervaux and Wiltz >


< Esch-sur-Sûre >


< View of the Lac de la Haute-Sûre at sunset, Lultzhausen >


< The morning of April 4, preparing to leave Lultzhausen >


< Tanking up in Steinfort, just before returning the car. I estimate we burned a little over 4 gallons of diesel on our entire road trip. Unfortunately, I forgot to mark down the odometer reading at the beginning; it would have been interesting to know how far we drove. We managed to see a lot of the country, though. When I was initially planning the Luxembourg trip, I expected the fuel bill to be more than twice as much as it was. Overall, I was very impressed with our car: fuel-efficient, comfortable, fun to drive, good-looking—It wasn’t long before I was wishing I owned one. >


On our fourth day, after returning our rental in the morning, Justin and I parted ways, he returning to Freiburg. I stayed a few more hours in Luxembourg, soaking in the sights one last time. Then, it was time to go home.

The weekend after my big Berlin trip, I journeyed to the city of Nürnberg to see my friend Hans-Martin, whom I had not seen for over three and a half years. I came to know Hans-Martin in the spring of 2003, when he, along with another teacher, led a group of Gymnasium students on an exchange program to Reynolds High School in Troutdale, Oregon, where I was learning German. (A Gymnasium is roughly equivalent to an American high school. It is one of three types of schools in Germany that would fall under our term “high school;” the Gymnasium is required for students going on to a university.) My family and I hosted Hans-Martin during his stay in the Portland area. It was a delightful time, and we all greatly enjoyed getting to know him. Hans-Martin invited me to come to Germany and see his school and stay at his place, which I did that same summer. I was there three weeks, and I had a wonderful time. It was the first time I’d ever been to Europe. My impression of Germany and German life was overwhelmingly positive. My German wasn’t so good then, but I came back motivated to learn, which I did.


Some weeks before my Berlin trip, I gave Hans-Martin a surprise phone call. He was happy to hear from me, and invited me to visit him again. I came over the weekend of the 17th and 18th of March. It was great to see my friend again, and Nürnberg was just as beautiful as I’d remembered it. I’d kept countless crystal clear memories of my first trip, and over the course of my latest trip, many of these memories came rushing back, right down to what I felt and thought at the time. I found that I remembered even the nearby Marktkauf grocery store with perfect clarity! Hans-Martin took me to the Landbierparadies restaurant, which we had gone to on the first trip. It was every bit as good as I remembered. Hans-Martin’s girlfriend, Suzanne, joined us on Saturday afternoon and came with us to the Landbierparadies. While I was in town, I also visited the Germanisches Nationalmuseum, a museum dedicated to Germanic history and culture from prehistoric times to the present day. On Sunday, Hans-Martin took me to, among other places, the Nürnberg Castle and the Albrecht Dürer house.

One thing that struck both of us while I was in Nürnberg was how much my German had improved since my last visit. Then, I tried to practice some German, but for actual communication, we had to default to English. This time around, we spoke German the whole time, except when I told Hans-Martin and Suzanne a joke in English. It made the reunion all the better to be able to communicate in the language I could only comprehend in snatches on my first trip to Germany.



< Hans-Martin, Suzanne and I in the Landbierparadies. >


< Hans-Martin and Suzanne >


< At the Nürnberg Castle >


< By the Albrecht Dürer house. The statue is a whimsical version of a well-known painting of Dürer’s. >


< Hans-Martin’s neighborhood as seen from his kitchen. The area has been built up a fair amount since I was there the first time. >

Almost six weeks ago on Easter Sunday, and if I remember correctly, less than an hour after I posted my “Berlin Report,” something happened to my laptop. I was just about to use Skype to call home, when all of a sudden the application froze. Within a minute, everything else had frozen, too. I was annoyed, but guessed that the problem could be resolved by restarting. But instead of booting up properly, after powering up, the screen went grey, and I could hear a sound like a whirr-click, whirr-click coming from the general area of the hard drive. My fears were confirmed when I brought my laptop to a service center in Stuttgart. The hard drive had failed.

Wikipedia’s article on the “click of death” seems to describe the experience I had:


“On non-Zip systems (usually a hard disk), the click of death refers to a similar phenomenon; when a hard disk has a hard error or servomechanism failure, the head actuator will buzz and click as the drive tries to recover from the error. Since the media is not removable on these drives, the defect is almost always due to physical abuse or a manufacturing error.”


Unfortunately, I had not backed up much of my data since coming to Germany, and the chances of recovering the data were slim, I was told. Nonetheless, I agreed to pay 60 Euros (about $80) to have the service people try to recover the data. I would pay the amount whether they recovered anything or not. Thankfully, the replacement of the drive was under warranty, even at a service center in Germany.

My prayers were answered when I got a phone call informing me that a partial backup had been managed, about a quarter of the data that had been on the drive. Later, when I was able to view the data, I found that almost everything of importance had been saved, including a diary I had kept, and my most recent photos.

I ended up having to re-install the system and all applications I had used. I completely lost my huge iTunes music library; however, most of it was backed up. I lost a few other files of minor import. The drive containing the backup of my iTunes library is in Portland, and I have decided not to risk having it mailed over here. I have mostly turned to internet radio as a source of music to listen to.

I feel I have come out of the experience blessed, and with a reminder to keep a proper perspective on what is really important in life. Even if I didn’t recover so much as a byte, I thought before I knew the outcome, I would still be greatly blessed.

I was planning to post blog entries about my other trips within days of my Berlin post. Obviously this has not happened, and I’m now very behind in on my blog. Although I’ve had a working computer for several weeks now, I’ve been busy with many things. Classes for the summer semester started on April 16. I’ve been busy with coursework ever since. I will try to fill the gaps of the last month within the next few days.


< My Easter Sunday 2007 portrait, taken just hours before my hard drive crashed. >

One of the most famous cities in the world, Berlin is in many ways an enigma. Once the city of Prussian splendor, once the fallen city of ruined empire, once the epicenter of the clash between the West and Communism, Berlin is more than a city: there is something about it that is fundamentally part of the German spirit, in a way that is often difficult to put into words. One feels especially that the history of the divided city and the divided Germany exists in the present here.

A unique youth counterculture is evident wherever one goes: youths dressed in whatever unique style they feel expresses their identity, and graffiti. Berlin graffiti was famous in the days of the Wall, the Western side of which became a canvas of expression for West Berlin youth.

The metropolitan area is huge and sprawling, composed of dozens of districts, each with its own character and town center. It is a busy city; always on the move, and always building. Berlin will never be finished, I was told. Construction cranes tower everywhere. After reunification, many buildings associated with the GDR were torn down and new ones put in their place. Although most that were torn down have replaced by now, it doesn't take much to convince one that Berlin is one big building project that never ends. Everywhere, the old is mixed with the new; steel and glass next to stately stone and brick. Berlin is a city that dazzles, intrigues, beckons.


Several months ago, Henriette, a student at the PH Ludwigsburg I had become acquainted with, and her parents invited me to visit them in Berlin. My most heartfelt thanks to them for their hospitality and generosity! They really made me feel like part of their family.




My trip to the capital took place from March 9–14. While many of my readers already know about my trip, the photos are being released now for the first time to the public. For reasons of security, and the hassle to get the photos declassified, they are only now being released .... all right, maybe I've just been involved in other things, and just haven't gotten around to the task of sorting through photos and writing. But, belated though it is, Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you my Berlin Report.


The Red-Eye Express

The adventure started in Stuttgart. A month before my departure, I had found a bargain airfare deal from Stuttgart to Berlin and back. Even with my BahnCard, which gives me 50% off train travel in Germany, it was half as much to fly. Furthermore, it takes over five hours to travel by train from Stuttgart to Berlin, as compared to an hour with an airplane. There was only one problem: my flight left at 6:50 in the morning. Passengers had to be checked in a half hour before takeoff at the latest. This meant that even if I took the earliest S-Bahn from my place, I probably wouldn't get to the airport in time. Rather than try to get to the airport early in the morning, I decided to get there late on the night before, and spend the night in the airport. And rather than try to sleep, I would read Lord of the Rings all night. It didn't turn out to be so bad. I knew I would be kaputt later in the day, but that was just part of the adventure.


The Panic

The plane touched down on the tarmac, and I was in Berlin! I walked to the terminal, and sat down to wait for my host family. After a while, I began to wonder if I'd missed something. After a half hour, I began to suspect that we had waited for each other in the wrong place. Having never been in the airport, I didn't know where else to wait. I didn't know that I was in the terminal called Terminal D. I also didn't know that the main terminal, Terminal A, was a short walk away in the main building. By the time I started moving around, I knew it was too late to look for my hosts. I knew that my best hope was to find their house. Problem: I had neglected to print out the e-mail with their address and phone number. I had no idea where I needed to go! I started feeling panicked, but I came up with a plan: I would get on the next S-Bahn, and ride until I found a part of town likely to have an internet café. Upon finding one, I would access my e-mail, and have all the information I needed. To make a long story short, it was much harder to find an internet café than I thought, and I took S-Bahn trains, walked, and rode busses for about two hours, before a bus I was on turned a corner, and there, in front of the bus stop, was an internet café. I got the information I needed, and used a pay phone to call a surprised Henriette. My desperate quest had taken me from the Berlin-Schönefeld Airport to Treptower Park. Thankfully, the S-Bahn station I needed to get to, Köpenick, was not far away. Within the hour, it was all worked out, I was with my hosts, and we laughed and shook our heads over the whole deal for the rest of my visit.

The Experience

The first day, Henriette showed me around the city center. Despite fatigue from staying awake all the previous night, I was up to some sightseeing, and did fine as long as I stayed on my feet. We went inside the Berliner Dom, and even took the stairs to the roof, getting a terrific view of the city. Other sights we took in included the town hall, the Fernsehturm (television broadcasting tower), the Reichstag building, the Hackescher Markt, and the glittering new main train station. Over the next several days, I saw the Berliner Zoo, was in four Museums, and visited Sanssouci in Potsdam. Now, on with the photos!


< Day One - Reading Lord of the Rings in the Stuttgart Airport >


< Reading Lord of the Rings in the Stuttgart Airport (Resolve waning) >


< In the S-Bahn at the Berlin-Schönefeld Airport >


< My host family's neighborhood. >


< Köpenick is the part of Berlin I stayed in. While Berlin was divided, it was in East Berlin. >


< Henriette and I stand on the roof of the Berliner Dom >


< View of the city from the Berliner Dom >


< In front of the Reichstag >

Day Two - No photos for this day; I visited the Pergamon Museum and the Alte Nationalgalerie, both of which were very interesting, especially the Pergamon Museum, where one can see, among many other items of interest, a reconstruction of part of the Ishtar Gate of Babylon.


< Day Three - At the Schloss Köpenick >


< Henriette in front of the chapel opposite from the Schloss Köpenick. >


< Day Four - Henriette and I went to the Berliner Zoo. The weather was great. Many of the animals, including this polar bear, were just chillin'. >


< On the wall with the rest of the primates. >


< Henriette >


< "I opened my eyes and looked into a face so ugly, that it could have come out of a nightmare." (from It's a Dog's Life, by J. R. Erickson) >


< In front of the famous Brandenburger Tor >


< Day Five - King Caleb at Sanssouci! (Henriette joked about this at the time of the photo) >


< Henriette and I stand in front of the vineyard below Sanssouci. >


< We didn't tour the inside of Sanssouci, but rather the Neues Palais. Here I am, inspecting my realm in front of the palace. >


< Interesting architecture, the Holländisches Viertel in Potsdam. >


< A "fairy-tale" gate, the actual name of which I do not know, Potsdam >


< Day Six - The trip home. Germanwings, the airline with which I flew, surprised me with their good service. I had not flown with a "budget airline" until my Berlin trip, and I wasn't sure what to expect. I would recommend them and gladly fly with them again. >

To those of you who know about my recent trips, yes, I have photos galore to post, and much to write about. That's the problem, you see. I haven't yet gathered up the energy and resolve to tackle the project, but I will soon. In the meantime, the weather report.

Just as winter seemed to be petering out in a mild and sunny fashion, winter decided in the last few days to get in the last word, even with spring officially knocking at the door. Daytime temperatures dipped into the 30s Fahrenheit, stormclouds dumping sheets of chilly rain blew through, and snow was hinted at in the weather reports. I didn't believe the reports at first, until it started to snow yesterday, and then I didn't believe it would stick. Well, wouldn't you know it, at 11:00 last night, the snow had coated almost everything except the streets with a sheet of white. The snow continued into the morning hours, but by noon today, it had turned into rain, and then stopped completely, giving way to large sections of blue sky by the mid-afternoon. The snow on the ground, too, was short lived. As of this evening, little more than patches remained. It was pretty while it lasted. If the current weather reports are to be believed, it should be sunny and reaching highs in the mid 50s Fahrenheit by Monday. Not bad for spring.


< A forsythia bush, lulled by the mild weather of the last few weeks, sits clothed in springtime color amid a wintry landscape. Taken about 9:30 this morning. >


< A delicate accumulation of snowflakes atop a cluster of tender forsythia blossoms. >


< The view out my kitchen window at 7:45 this morning. >

The cost of living can be looked at from many different angles, but food is certainly a factor of high importance when considering one's personal expenses. In any given month, food is one of my highest categories of expenditures, often second only to rent. A common rendering in German of the word "food" is "Lebensmittel," which might be literally translated as "the medium of life." Food is not, however, simply that which keeps us alive, but is all around the world in all different societies an item of great cultural importance. If I were visiting a city in a far-off country for the first time and wanted to get an authentic cultural experience, the first thing I'd do would be to go to where the ordinary citizens buy their food. Perhaps that sounds a little strange, but think of it conversely: If the first thing a space alien visiting America for the first time did after he landed was to visit a Wal-Mart Supercenter, I think he'd get a pretty good snapshot of American culture.

So how much does it cost to shop in Germany, and what is the experience like? Glad you asked.


< My personal shelf in the communal refrigerator. >


How are tacks taxed?

Germany has a reputation as being a relatively expensive place to visit, which is forgivable in such a marvelous land for the traveller. Visiting and living are, of course, two completely different games when it comes to costs, which I see quite clearly when I compare my three-week visit in 2003 with my present sojourn. Perhaps this should be obvious, but when you're excitedly preparing to study and live in another country, the mundane routines of life seldom come to mind.

One word the student of the German language will quickly learn when living in Germany, if it was not already known before, is Mehrwertsteuer, which means value added tax (VAT). While technically not the same as a sales tax, from the perspective of the consumer it functions very much the same way: it is added to almost every commodity you buy. VAT is included in the price you see on the shelf, so there are no surprises at the checkout. However, the receipt will reveal the amount of your purchase that was VAT, which can be eye-popping. VAT on most food items (except juice and soda) is 7%. Everything else is taxed at—hold on to your hats—19%. That means almost every non-food item you can buy, from office paper to a new computer to a new Mercedes-Benz to a box of tacks, is taxed at almost 20%. The simple way items are grouped into 7% or 19% VAT makes it easy to determine which rate will be applied when shopping. However, it doesn't always make perfect sense. For example, sugar and candy bars are charged 7%, while toothpaste, toothbrushes, and dental floss are all charged at 19%. Before the beginning of 2007, the VAT was 6% and 16%. The German government, fearing the continuation of an economic recovery, put its collective foot down to attempt to stem the tide. Trying to turn lemons into lemonade, some stores had new year's sales, with Saturn, an electronics store, offering 19% off many items, in honor of the new 19% VAT.

Despite the high taxes, many common grocery items in Germany are comparable to reasonable prices for the same items in America. Is it expensive to shop here? You decide.




The Experience

In many ways, the grocery shopping experience here is similar to the experience in America. Shopping is done mostly at chain supermarkets. Shoppers browse the aisles, pushing shopping carts ahead of them, and at the end of their visit, they load their items onto a belt to be scanned by the cashier. Almost all stores accept debit cards issued by German banks (although extremely few accept cards with a Visa or MasterCard logo). Despite the similarities, there are quite a few differences in the details.


Tubes - they're not just for toothpaste anymore.

The first surprise an American will encounter on visiting a German grocery store for the first time will come when s/he tries to get a shopping cart, and finds that they are all fastened together with chains. The shopper's attention will then be drawn to the device mounted on the handle of each cart to which the chains connect. Then the truth will hit, and the shopper will fumble around in his/her pocket or purse for a 1 Euro coin, and will find two 50-cent pieces, one 2 Euro piece, four 20-cent pieces, one dime, and seven pennies. The shopper will then go to the bakery next door and buy a Berliner with the 2 Euro piece, receiving a 1 Euro piece as part of the change. After eating the Berliner, the shopper will return to the cart corral and insert the 1 Euro piece into the device on the cart handle, thus freeing the cart, and continue into the store.

If our first-time-in-Germany shopper happens to be going into a store operated by a discount grocery chain, a quarter of the items on his/her shopping list won't be carried by the store, and another quarter will be out of stock. The shopper might notice the difference in the way some things are packaged. In America, tubes are for toothpaste and anti-fungal cream. Germans, however, happily buy mayonnaise, mustard, relish, tomato paste, and more in tubes that look as though they were made for Crest whitening formula.
In America, milk is almost always sold fresh (unless it's meant for cooking); over here preserved milk, sold unrefrigerated in aseptic packaging (such as Tetra Pak), is very popular.
If the shopper is looking for that "large onion" or those "large potatoes" that the recipe from home called for, s/he may be surprised to find that the store's onions are not much larger than golf balls, and neither are most of the potatoes. (For making recipes from home, I've learned to substitute three German onions for each American-sized onion. Some stores carry the larger kind, but they're usually much more expensive per kilo.) Where's the bulk section for dry goods? (Cue blank stares from employees)

The final surprise will come at the checkout. There will be no bagger to pack our intrepid shopper's items away in doubled-up plastic grocery bags. In fact there will be no bags at all—unless the shopper is willing to shell out a little extra for them. At most stores this costs ten to twenty (Euro) cents per bag. However, the bags are much sturdier than the flimsy grocery bags we get in America, and can be reused. If the shopper happens to take the bags s/he bought, which are printed with the store's logo, back to the same store for the next shopping trip, s/he would be wise to let the cashier know the bags are used; otherwise, the cashier might add them to the grocery bill without saying anything. The mistake will be discovered at home when glancing over the receipt, when it's already too late to make a fuss about it. (My standard procedure is to carry bags in my coat pockets, load the items back into the shopping cart as fast as the cashier can scan them, and after I've paid, to take the cart to a convenient place and bag the groceries (many stores have special counters for this purpose).) At the end of the shopping experience, the cart is returned, and as it is fastened to the other carts, the coin pops out like magic.

After going through all of this for the first time, our newly initiated American shopper of German grocery stores might want to go back to the bakery and get another Berliner, or perhaps even go to the nearest Biergarten.


< A 1 Euro coin sits ready to free a shopping cart from its chains. >


Name your pleasure

Supermarket chains can be divided into several rough categories, including huge megastores with wide and diverse selection (similar to FredMeyer and Wal-Mart Supercenters); smaller, limited selection discount groceries that rely almost completely on their own "house brands" (for these I can think of no equivalent in the Portland area); mid-sized groceries that offer a more upscale shopping experience and brand names for a higher price (similar to Safeway and QFC); and natural/organic food stores (similar to Wild Oats and Whole Foods).

Each has its advantages. The mega- and more upscale stores have counters where shoppers can get fresh meats, cold cuts and cheeses packaged to their liking. They are also the most likely bet for finding craved-for American food items. The discount stores have good prices on many types of canned and prepackaged foods, but little in the way of fresh, although most offer a limited selection of inexpensive (but often inferior quality) fresh produce. Stores specializing in natural/organic foods are the place to go for any kind of high quality product, healthy alternative, or excellent fresh produce.

Some of the common supermarket chains with stores in the area that I shop at include Marktkauf and Kaufland (megastores); Plus, Penny Markt, Aldi Süd, and Lidl (discount chains); Rewe, Tengelmann, and Edeka (slightly more upscale); and Alnatura (organic). Yes, in any given month, I will probably shop in all of those stores. The variety among the different stores allows me to track down most any item for any recipe I want to make. Additionally, though several different stores might carry the same item, I know which one will usually give it to me for the best price. For example, I might go to Marktkauf to get Doritos corn chips, sour cream, and fresh ground beef; Lidl to get canned tomatoes and canned kidney beans; Tengelmann to get pitted black olives (most black olives sold here are sold with the pit) and cheddar cheese (from the fresh deli counter); and Alnatura to get fresh vegetables and healthy cooking oil. The resulting meal might look like this...


< Guten Appetit! >


< Kaufland, a gargantuan shopping center. There are two in Ludwigsburg; this one is the larger of the two, to the west of the train station. >


< The produce department in Kaufland. >


< Produce scale, Kaufland. Many stores have scales such as this, on which customers weigh their produce and then press the appropriate button, and the scale prints a sticker with the price and a bar code for the cashier to scan. The surface marked Falschetiketten is the place to stick a sticker if you've made a mistake. >


< Browsing the beverage aisle, Kaufland. Most beverages sold in places like Kaufland and Marktkauf are bottled in refillable bottles, which are used over and over by the bottling companies. While many of these bottles are glass, a fair number of them are made of sturdy plastic which, though appearing scuffed after several times being used, returned, and refilled, is little the worse for wear. Deposit for refillable containers is generally between eight and fifteen (Euro) cents.>


< Many of the largest stores have more than one level. To get between the levels, shoppers go up and down long, gently sloping belts. The shopping cart wheels are specially designed to grip the belt, preventing the cart from rolling. >


< Browsing the cereal aisle in the Marktkauf in Feuerbach, another gigantic store. >


< Inside an Aldi Süd, one of the limited selection discount chains, in Freiberg am Neckar. The shot is looking toward the checkout, about halfway between the checkout and the back of the store. Kaufland's dairy and fresh produce sections alone would probably fill this entire store. >


< Two of my favorite beverages: Cherry-banana nectar, and fresh milk. The packaging of the cherry-banana nectar is what's known as aseptic packaging; before it's been opened, it can sit on a shelf without refrigeration. This is the way haltbare (preserved) milk is sold in Germany, but I prefer the taste of the fresh. Every grocery chain in Germany has its own "house brand" of milk, all sold almost universally at the same price, no matter what the store is: Euro 0.55 per litre for whole milk.>


< Some things never change. >



And in other news...

I got a new backpack the other day (on sale, even!), suitable for weekend trips or day hikes. I also find it quite convenient for carrying groceries on those occasions when I decide to combine a walk with a trip to the store. In addition to the pack, I bought a nice water canteen, as my hikes can be quite long, and there have been times when I got quite thirsty while on a hike and had no water. I want to make sure I remain properly hydrated on my hikes, especially as the weather gets warmer. Part of the problem with this is the need to balance fluid intake with the other possible need that may arise long before I return home. Public restrooms are Germany's four-leaf clovers: not only are they difficult to come across, but they may also be seen as good luck. (As in: Person A - “I'm looking for a public restroom.” Person B - “Good luck!”)

I've created a new page to deposit posts older than about two months. This will prevent the main blog page from taking too long to load.

To view older posts, the URL is www.douglas-fir.net/archives.php