Hey guys! This doesn't really qualify as a post, more that I just wanted to point out that if you look all the way to the right side of the page, there's a "Shameless Self-Promotion and Other Travel Blogs". I was just finally able to add in another blog called "Travels with Simba." Hannah Scupham is a fellow Valparaiso University alum who is in Valpo teaching English through the Fullbright Program. She is also here for a year, and keeping a blog. Hers is a lot more informative on Germany and Germans in general, so you should check it out! Mine tends to be quite self-reflective (I'm sure you all love that...), so if you want actual concrete information, hers is the way to go. She's also living in the north of Germany rather than the south, so at the very least, you'd get some perspective on life in other part of the country.
So, until next time, auf wiedersehen!
Sunday, December 8, 2013
Christmas in Germany
Germany, as a whole, gets really into Christmas. "Weinachtsmarkts" or "Christkindl" markets are in nearly every city, in varying sizes. Even little Kornwestheim, which is a branch of Ludwigsburg, which is 15 minutes away from Stuttgart and it's massive Christmas market, puts together their own tiny version for a weekend. Even the Grinch himself would have a hard time getting into the Christmas spirit in this country. You would have to work very hard to stay grumpy at this time of year.
Especially considering the fact that the "Gluhwein", which is essentially a warm spiced wine (I guess we would call it mead?) is served about every ten paces, regardless of the size of the Christmas market. It's good (the apple version is my favorite), but it also packs a punch (which, if you're like me, you may not realize until it's too late...). They also serve something that could maybe go in the same family as eggnog, but it's pretty gross. Egg liquor is not a thing that should exist. However, it's almost pure alcohol, so if a fast drunk is what you're looking for, or if you have an exceptional tolerance, that may be just the thing to order.
Anyway, the best part of all the booths at these Christmas markets is to look up at the roofs. They're decorated so extravagantly, and most of them are extremely creative. It's quite clear that a lot of the vendors spend a great deal of time thinking through their decorations during the year (or maybe they just reuse the same ideas over and over again...I have no context for comparison). They are mostly selling knick-knack type items, winter gear, food, and alcohol. I haven't bought anything other than Gluhwein, but everything smells amazing so I would assume the food is also decent. I'm sure I'll find out eventually about that element, but probably won't buy anything that can't immediately be ingested. I'm not one for scarves or ornaments, and I would question my ability to pack or ship anything home from here in such a manner that it would arrive in one piece.
Speaking of home, I am actually ecstatic about the fact that I will be going home for the holidays. My grandfather was meant to visit, and then we were going to travel through Italy, and while I am disappointed that that has had to be postponed for health reasons, it is actually a huge relief to be headed home for a bit. I really thought I could handle being away for Christmas...I've never had issues with homesickness in the past, but there's just something about being gone for this time of year that was really, really bumming me out. My family is pretty close, and we've always made Christmas special, and I think missing out on that for the first time in 23 years is just something I am not ready for yet. It also would have been pretty lonely once all my friends left for their homes. And I'm sure Nicole and the kids would have been really nice and mostly willing to include me, but I wouldn't have wanted to intrude on their Christmas. It will be so good to see my family and friends and dogs and cats and just be back in the states for a bit. I do like a lot of elements to life in Germany, but it still hasn't succeeded in passing by New Zealand or home.
Although, as far as Christmas at home goes, I could be playing off nostalgia a bit. My parents, siblings and I may want to kill each other after thirty-six hours together. Though in this case, I severely doubt it. We weren't expecting to all be together again for another seven to nine months, so this two weeks is an unexpected gift, and I think we will take full advantage of it. Plus, it means I'll get to visit the lovely Chicago Christkindl market and compare it to a real German one. I'll try to be unbiased, but that's unlikely. So I'll take photos and then you can compare them yourselves.
So, here follows a few photos from the various Christmas markets. I'll probably keep adding onto them...I've been forgetting to take pictures a lot lately, and as a result, my photography skills are not quite as good as they once were.
Especially considering the fact that the "Gluhwein", which is essentially a warm spiced wine (I guess we would call it mead?) is served about every ten paces, regardless of the size of the Christmas market. It's good (the apple version is my favorite), but it also packs a punch (which, if you're like me, you may not realize until it's too late...). They also serve something that could maybe go in the same family as eggnog, but it's pretty gross. Egg liquor is not a thing that should exist. However, it's almost pure alcohol, so if a fast drunk is what you're looking for, or if you have an exceptional tolerance, that may be just the thing to order.
Anyway, the best part of all the booths at these Christmas markets is to look up at the roofs. They're decorated so extravagantly, and most of them are extremely creative. It's quite clear that a lot of the vendors spend a great deal of time thinking through their decorations during the year (or maybe they just reuse the same ideas over and over again...I have no context for comparison). They are mostly selling knick-knack type items, winter gear, food, and alcohol. I haven't bought anything other than Gluhwein, but everything smells amazing so I would assume the food is also decent. I'm sure I'll find out eventually about that element, but probably won't buy anything that can't immediately be ingested. I'm not one for scarves or ornaments, and I would question my ability to pack or ship anything home from here in such a manner that it would arrive in one piece.
Speaking of home, I am actually ecstatic about the fact that I will be going home for the holidays. My grandfather was meant to visit, and then we were going to travel through Italy, and while I am disappointed that that has had to be postponed for health reasons, it is actually a huge relief to be headed home for a bit. I really thought I could handle being away for Christmas...I've never had issues with homesickness in the past, but there's just something about being gone for this time of year that was really, really bumming me out. My family is pretty close, and we've always made Christmas special, and I think missing out on that for the first time in 23 years is just something I am not ready for yet. It also would have been pretty lonely once all my friends left for their homes. And I'm sure Nicole and the kids would have been really nice and mostly willing to include me, but I wouldn't have wanted to intrude on their Christmas. It will be so good to see my family and friends and dogs and cats and just be back in the states for a bit. I do like a lot of elements to life in Germany, but it still hasn't succeeded in passing by New Zealand or home.
Although, as far as Christmas at home goes, I could be playing off nostalgia a bit. My parents, siblings and I may want to kill each other after thirty-six hours together. Though in this case, I severely doubt it. We weren't expecting to all be together again for another seven to nine months, so this two weeks is an unexpected gift, and I think we will take full advantage of it. Plus, it means I'll get to visit the lovely Chicago Christkindl market and compare it to a real German one. I'll try to be unbiased, but that's unlikely. So I'll take photos and then you can compare them yourselves.
So, here follows a few photos from the various Christmas markets. I'll probably keep adding onto them...I've been forgetting to take pictures a lot lately, and as a result, my photography skills are not quite as good as they once were.
One of the Christmas trees for the Stuttgart market
The Nutcracker in Stuttgart. I'll let the photo speak for itself.
The Ludwigsburg market. It's the favorite of my family. But as an American, I must admit to being impressed by the sheer size and gaudiness of the Stuttgart one.
Ludwigsburg does have its own charm though...
This is What Happens When You're Living Rather than Traveling
Anyway, the GOOD thing about traveling all the time (besides, the obvious of, well, traveling all the time), is that it creates very natural, narrative-type entries for this.
Which means that while spending the past month and a half staying put in Stuttgart has been at least as enjoyable as traveling (and sometimes more so), it doesn't necessarily lend itself to neat, tidy, ordered, or even particularly fascinating posts. I guess it's time for me to recruit those writing skills that I spent four years and thousands of dollars honing.
But, enough rambling! (see, I'm already losing out on order). As a result of me spending all my money for the months (and then some...I can only justify so many trips to the ATM pulling money from my American accounts...) in Paris and Strasbourg, I've spent the past month or so exploring Stuttgart. And by exploring, I mostly mean going out to eat, for coffee, and drinking(this is Germany, after all). And, to be honest, that stability has been nice. It's also been great to have finally established a couple of different groups of friends to spend time with. I adore the family I am living and working for, but, as I've said before, having a group of peers is essential to maintaining sanity. Especially in the beginning, being here made me long for college, when there was always someone who you could find to give you attention at any time of day (except from between 6-8 am...and sometimes even then).
But, getting back to business, it's just been lovely to have friends. There are two groups which I tend to circulate between. One I've met through Laura, as she's been kind enough to include me in outings with her friends. They're mostly all other Americans who are also in Germans as au pairs (they all also mostly have, or have had, German boyfriends. Must have missed the memo on that one...). And then the other group I also met through a girl named Laura (not confusing at all...). She's a grad student from the UK, and somehow managed to build up a group of "misfits" (as I so kindly like to describe it...). There's her, me, a British guy named George, a Croatian girl named Sara, a French guy named Adrien, and a German girl named Martina. They're all students, aside from George, who teaches English.
I like spending time with both groups, but at the risk of sounding snooty, it can sometimes be a bit more refreshing to not spend all my free time with au pairs. Because when you get a group of au pairs together, the conversation tends to gravitate toward talk (i.e. complaints) about the family and the hazards of being an au pair. It devolves into a complaint fest, where everyone tries to one-up the other on who has it worse. It's really great conversation, and I always come off as snotty since I don't have a reason to complain. As far as being an au pair goes, I have nothing to complain about. I am in as ideal of a situation as I possibly could be, and have nothing negative to say about my family. But that being said, it can be nice to just be silly and hang out with a bunch of girls my own age who are from my country. No one makes fun of my accent (as George and Laura like to do...because obviously Brits say things "correctly" and Americans are just wrong...), and when I say particularly American things ("This Christmas market isn't as good, it's too small." "I can't believe they made me give exact change, I'm paying THEM for something."), it doesn't come off as weird. Though I'm definitely also not on the same page as most of them when it comes to German men. I will admit that they do tend to be quite nice-looking, but, at the risk of fulfilling stereotypes(but there is some truth in all of them...I frequently am the loud American, particularly once alcohol is involved...), I find their humor to be lacking. Sarcasm is not a German trait. Not that ALL of them are not funny; just I personally haven't met a German guy who had me in fits of laughter.
With the other group, the conversation tends to be a bit more varied. I think between the six of us, we've been to nearly every major city on the globe. As usual, I tend to bring up the rear when it comes to travel experience, but that's not an issue in my mind. It gives me an even bigger pool of people from whom I can get insider advice on where to travel, and what to see and do once I'm there. Plus, Chicago, LA, and New Zealand are usually flashy enough to keep me above water as far as street cred is concerned.
Anyway, I've been having a lot of fun getting to know my way around the city (I probably only get lost every other time now) and checking out the cafes and nightlife. I still think French coffee is better, but it's also more expensive, so it may balance out. I've yet to find a club that I enjoy in Stuttgart (but it's hard to find a club I enjoy period...), but the bars are a lot of fun. My personal favorite is called "Tequila Bar." You get a free shot of tequila with every beer you order. It's such a good deal (there's the recent college graduate showing again).
I hope I didn't bore you all too much! Here's a few photos of day-to-day life just so you all have some visuals to what has been going on. I'll be writing another post shortly about the "Weinachtmarkts" that are EVERYWHERE in Germany. Basically, it looks like Santa Claus vomited all over most of Germany at this time of year.
This is Lina. She is a Cocker Spaniel mix. We go on lots of walks.
One of the randomly pretty spots we go through in Kornwestheim.
And another.
Schlossplatz. It's the most beautiful spot in Stuttgart. It's all decked out in Christmas now.
The group out on a Friday night.
Hedgehogs are all over the place in Germany. They call them "Eagles". Which is particularly bizarre considering what an eagle is in English.
German 'spaghetti' ice cream. It is delicious. Though strawberry sauce in Germany is more like jam than the syrupy version that we have in the states.
Tuesday, October 22, 2013
Somehow, I Keep Ending Up in France
I've now officially been living in Germany for over a month. But I think I've seen more of France than of the country which I am currently inhabiting. I still haven't properly explored Stuttgart (actually, haven't explored it at all, let alone properly. I don't think one coffee at a nice café and repeated trips through the main station really counts...), but, hey, I have eleven more months to do that, right? Although, this is coming from the girl who lived in Dunedin for six months and never made it to the Otago Peninsula, which is a mere 20-minute drive away from campus, so anything is possible. BUT, my excuse for the moment is that I should do my traveling while the weather is nice. Because one the weather turns, all I will want to do is hibernate, and it will be much easier to summon the energy for a twelve minute train ride to Stuttgart than it will for an extended commute elsewhere.
With the forecast for this past Saturday demanding a day spent outdoors, Laura and I decided it would be the perfect day for a trip to Strasbourg. I should probably say a bit more about Laura; she is also working as an au pair near Stuttgart, but has been here since November. She was an architecture major, she's from Austin, Texas, and we became good friends quite quickly. On account of her longer time here in Germany, she speaks German pretty well, has mastered public transportation, and actually possesses a sense of direction. I don't actually know what I bring to the table during our trips, but she keeps traveling with me so I won't bring attention to that just yet.
With the forecast for this past Saturday demanding a day spent outdoors, Laura and I decided it would be the perfect day for a trip to Strasbourg. I should probably say a bit more about Laura; she is also working as an au pair near Stuttgart, but has been here since November. She was an architecture major, she's from Austin, Texas, and we became good friends quite quickly. On account of her longer time here in Germany, she speaks German pretty well, has mastered public transportation, and actually possesses a sense of direction. I don't actually know what I bring to the table during our trips, but she keeps traveling with me so I won't bring attention to that just yet.
Laura and I on the train. Look, the sun was out.
Strasbourg (as the title of this post suggests) is in France, just over the German border. On the slow trains (much cheaper tickets prices...) it takes about three hours to get there from Stuttgart. That is about as far as I would be willing to go for a day trip; any longer than that and you're wasting too much time getting to and from your location to justify the time and expense. In this case, the travel time was absolutely worth it, as Strasbourg is lovely. It was everything that I thought Paris should be: quaint, clean, beautiful, and so obviously European that it almost seemed an exaggeration. Bridges, cobblestone streets, flower boxes, street side cafés, cathedrals...you name it, this city has it.
As usual, the highlight of my day was the food. We chose another adorable French café, and sat outside enjoying the gorgeous fall day and a lovely view of the river. Laura ordered tea and a salmon sauerkraut dish; I had quiche and espresso (shocking, I know. I must also say that France has Germany beat so far as coffee quality is concerned). Everything was amazing, as usual, and served with a side of French bread, as usual. I'm pretty sure that I am indeed ruined for bread when I return to the states (which is a GOOD thing...assuming that I don't have to be rolled off of the plane once it lands in Chicago).
Yeah, I've become one of those people who takes photos of their food. I would maybe feel bad if I wasn't too busy remembering how delicious it was.
We also went back to the fancy French tea store, Kusmi. I bought more tea, even though I rationed what I bought in Paris so much that I only drank one cup of it in between Paris and Strasbourg (God forbid I should run out). I am also now officially a tea snob in addition to my previously established coffee snobbery as I bought looseleaf instead of the bags. Hot beverages are my weakness, apparently.
After that, we were all set to explore when we happened to stumble (literally...I tripped down the steps) upon this tiny, hole-in-the-wall gelato place. Naturally, once we were inside, we had to get some (it would have been rude not to, and it was super cheap...less than 2 EUROS). Laura chose cherry, I chose mint chocolate chip. It was divine, and I am not ashamed to admit that I nearly wept when it was finished (I did refrain from licking out the cup though, as we were in public and I didn't want to embarrass Laura. I'm regretting that in hindsight though...).
Once I recovered my composure, we wandered about the city. We saw the impressive Strasbourg Notre Dame, resisted the smells of a lot of bakeries, and window shopped at the many expensive stores littered throughout.
The Notre Dame of Strasbourg
Such a shame that autumn comes at the price of a winter.
It rained all day on Sunday, so we binged on Netflix and tried to make quiche. It was good, but we accidentally bought pizza crust (didn't I say that Laura knows German?...) instead of the flakier pie/pastry crust that quiche is meant to have. Laura was a bit dismayed; I actually really liked it that way (must be missing my Giordano's back in Chicago. I renamed it "quizza" and it will go on the menu of my future restaurant (along with the "squawking taco"...everything on the menu has to have a lame name that I find hilarious).
So, there's my most recent weekend! I cannot believe how quickly time is passing by...I'll be checking out the Christmas markets before I can blink, and then the next thing I know, it will be summer and then I'll be packing my bags home to Chicago and trying to find another adventure.
Wednesday, October 9, 2013
Midnight in Paris
I don't know how it happened that me, a girl who frequently had to be bodily removed from the house on a Saturday night (as all my Plum house roommates can attest to), managed to schedule two jam-packed weekends of traveling in a row, but I did. And am so happy I did. It woul have been such a sin to miss either Oktoberfest or Nuit Blanche. A year may sound like a long time initially, but with one month gone already, I know it will go much too fast!
Anyway, this time, I was not lucky enough to find a ride share for the way to Paris. I had to suck it up and pay the exorbitant cost for the train. However, that worked out for the best because Laura, another au pair working near Stuttgart, and I ended up chatting the entire time and I'm pretty sure we would have annoyed other people in a car with our incessant talk of boys (apparently, there is absolutely no difference in bonding with a fifteen or twenty-four-year-old girl...).
It was also good for me that I ended up traveling with her, as I STILL don't know my way around the Stuttgart train station. Laura has been in Stuttgart since last November, so she has a pretty good grasp of German and also how public transportation works in Europe. Our tickets for the train actually weren't next to each other (not even in the same car, or wagon as the Germans say), but I just illegally sat next to her and never was kicked out. I know, I'm a daredevil (there are some benefits to being an American...my out was just going to be that I read the ticket wrong if it came to that).
We arrived in Paris without incident, though we did have some issues finding the hostel as our cabbie had no idea where the place we were staying was, and just dropped us off in the middle of the street that it was on. So, from about 10:30-11pm, we wandered about the streets of Paris trying to find someone who spoke enough English (and was sober enough) to direct us toward while we were staying. It was actually kind of terrifying; Paris is a different city at night, and not necessarily in a good way. There was an unsettling contrast between the people enjoying a nice meal outside while 50 yards away there were a group of drunk men lying in puddles of their own urine and vomit. Welcome to Paris, the most refined of all cities and fashion capital of the world.
Anyway, we did eventually find the hostel and once there, had another unexpected surprise. Since we had booked so late, we had to get a private room (which actually was fine because then there's no worry about theft or who else is going to be in the room with you). We THOUGHT it would have two twin beds, but we walked in and just started laughing because it was actually just one queen. If the train ride didn't already make us pals, then two nights in the same bed would do it. Also worth noting: the shower was SOOOO tiny. Swear on my life, it was roughly coffin-sized. But, and least you wouldn't have to wear flip-flops in it, or wait in line behind five hundred other girls trying to make themselves beautiful in the morning.
Once settled in, we decided to just go to bed straight away and then get an early start in the morning. So, we were out the door at 8 am after taking advantage of the free breakfast in the hostel (the food was edible...the coffee was disgusting). And then, by 11 AM we had already seen half of the tourist attractions that you are supposed to see the first time you go to Paris. All thanks to Laura...she was the one figuring out the metro and reading the maps and taking charge. I was just along for the ride and waiting to have some real coffee.
Laura and I in front of Notre Dame
Saint Chappelle
Inside Notre Dame. There was mass going on and it felt kind of weird to take photos during it.
After seeing Notre Dame, Saint Chappelle, and the Louvre (just the outside), we did the only thing I really felt that I had to do in Paris, which was stopping by one of the five hundred million cafes that are every ten feet on the streets (you'd think we would have found one sooner, but when you have that many options to choose from it becomes difficult to just pick one). We ordered "Madame croque's," which are basically a kind of grilled cheese sandwich with bacon and a fried egg on top, and then I had my long-awaited double-shot of espresso and Laura had tea. I don't know how I keep hanging out with non-coffee drinkers; guess I should have appreciated having constant coffee buddies in Julia and Mike more. But it was so delicious, and I truly can call myself a coffee connoisseur now.
It was worth the wait.
Following our leisurely lunch, we set off to see a few more sights. Along the way, we went into this AMAZING french tea shop (called Kusmi, I believe) where I was suckered into buying a box of expensive, but absurdly delicious grapefruit-something-green tea (hey now...tea and coffee are more acceptable addictions than drugs and alcohol, at least, though not much cheaper with how particular I have become). We also made our way to the Eiffel tower. It cool to see (I know, such a boring way to describe it, "cool"), and the park around it was lovely, if quite crowded and featuring too many couples groping each other in a public space.
By this point in the afternoon, we were pretty wiped, so we decided to stop by the hostel and drop off our tea before heading out for round two in the evening. En route, we stopped and bought some macaroons. They were okay (nothing compared to German chocolate), I wished I had just gotten another coffee (so I did).
Almost as soon as we were back in our room, I received a text from Reillie, saying that her and her friend Matthieu were in the city as well, so we then headed back out and met up with them. And the Nuit Blanche part of the night was underway.
Nuit Blanche is essentially and all-night art exhibition held across the city. Museums are free all night, in addition to the street performers, galleries, and exhibits that are set up at various spots around Paris. It's quite a unique event, and Paris (which never seems to sleep) is the perfect host.
A book describing the exhibits that is of no use to me since I don't know French.
The first exhibit we went to was "fog art." Calling it art is a generous term, because all it seemed to be was fake fog all around a square in the downtown area. It was kind of a cool novelty at first, but we kept losing each other and it was uncomfortable to inhale so we did last there too long. So then we found the cheapest cafe we could (which was reflected in the quality of the food; though at least you can't really ruin an omelette), and then started walking around looking at other exhibits.
Laura and I in the fog "art"
Unfortunately, by this time, it was becoming quite apparent that Laura and I had not really ideally planned our day, at least for this particular weekend in Paris. While we saw SO much of the city during the day, our energy was waning and feet were killing us from spending 15+ hours walking all around the city. Reillie and Matthieu, on the other hand, were fresh and ready to go. So we ended up parting ways at around 11pm, and Laura and I headed back to the hostel. I fell asleep almost immediately.
A very freaky ghost exhibit. There was music accompanying it. It was unsettling.
I don't know what this exhibit was going for but I liked it.
The Louvre. At night. Kind of spectacular.
The next morning, we moved a bit slower (also decided that showering wasn't worth it), but were still out and about by around 9:30 am (if at a much slower pace). The only really big touristy attraction that we saw was the Arc de Triomphe (Laura is an architecture major so I think it was more fascinating to her than me, though still quite impressive). We then searched for a crepe place; a harder job than you would expect since it was Sunday and a lot of places were closed (although a lot more places are open in Paris on Sundays than in Germany). But we were eventually successful, found a place near Versailles where the coffee was even nicer than the day before. I had crepes; she had quiche, we basically were French for the hour we were there.
The Arc de Triomphe
Some delicious French food. Note all the bread everywhere. Can't escape it.
And then it was time to head back to Stuttgart. We were able to get a ride share on the way back with some dude named Fabian (he wasn't nearly as fun as Lourdes and Chris). We saved a lot of money, but it took us six hours compared to the four on the train. Still was worth it though, especially considering that I was hemorrhaging money the entire weekend.
So, that was Paris! I'm glad that I was able to go and see it, but it wouldn't break my heart if I was never able to go back again. It's beautiful, and there's a lot to see and do, but historical buildings are not as impressive to me as mountains. The Notre Dame and Saint Chappelle are gorgeous, but it wasn't the heart-stopping, jaw-dropping, take-your-breath-away awe and beauty that traveling around New Zealand left me with. Also, Paris really does smell. Especially at night. However, one myth I would dispel is that the people are unfriendly, and don't speak much English. In our experience, you were fine with just English, and while people won't usually go out of their way to be extremely helpful (we did have one waiter who took a fancy to us and was a bit TOO friendly), they weren't rude by any means either.
So, until next time, au revoir! I think I did a better job taking photos this time and will try to keep it that way.
Anyway, this time, I was not lucky enough to find a ride share for the way to Paris. I had to suck it up and pay the exorbitant cost for the train. However, that worked out for the best because Laura, another au pair working near Stuttgart, and I ended up chatting the entire time and I'm pretty sure we would have annoyed other people in a car with our incessant talk of boys (apparently, there is absolutely no difference in bonding with a fifteen or twenty-four-year-old girl...).
It was also good for me that I ended up traveling with her, as I STILL don't know my way around the Stuttgart train station. Laura has been in Stuttgart since last November, so she has a pretty good grasp of German and also how public transportation works in Europe. Our tickets for the train actually weren't next to each other (not even in the same car, or wagon as the Germans say), but I just illegally sat next to her and never was kicked out. I know, I'm a daredevil (there are some benefits to being an American...my out was just going to be that I read the ticket wrong if it came to that).
We arrived in Paris without incident, though we did have some issues finding the hostel as our cabbie had no idea where the place we were staying was, and just dropped us off in the middle of the street that it was on. So, from about 10:30-11pm, we wandered about the streets of Paris trying to find someone who spoke enough English (and was sober enough) to direct us toward while we were staying. It was actually kind of terrifying; Paris is a different city at night, and not necessarily in a good way. There was an unsettling contrast between the people enjoying a nice meal outside while 50 yards away there were a group of drunk men lying in puddles of their own urine and vomit. Welcome to Paris, the most refined of all cities and fashion capital of the world.
Anyway, we did eventually find the hostel and once there, had another unexpected surprise. Since we had booked so late, we had to get a private room (which actually was fine because then there's no worry about theft or who else is going to be in the room with you). We THOUGHT it would have two twin beds, but we walked in and just started laughing because it was actually just one queen. If the train ride didn't already make us pals, then two nights in the same bed would do it. Also worth noting: the shower was SOOOO tiny. Swear on my life, it was roughly coffin-sized. But, and least you wouldn't have to wear flip-flops in it, or wait in line behind five hundred other girls trying to make themselves beautiful in the morning.
Once settled in, we decided to just go to bed straight away and then get an early start in the morning. So, we were out the door at 8 am after taking advantage of the free breakfast in the hostel (the food was edible...the coffee was disgusting). And then, by 11 AM we had already seen half of the tourist attractions that you are supposed to see the first time you go to Paris. All thanks to Laura...she was the one figuring out the metro and reading the maps and taking charge. I was just along for the ride and waiting to have some real coffee.
After seeing Notre Dame, Saint Chappelle, and the Louvre (just the outside), we did the only thing I really felt that I had to do in Paris, which was stopping by one of the five hundred million cafes that are every ten feet on the streets (you'd think we would have found one sooner, but when you have that many options to choose from it becomes difficult to just pick one). We ordered "Madame croque's," which are basically a kind of grilled cheese sandwich with bacon and a fried egg on top, and then I had my long-awaited double-shot of espresso and Laura had tea. I don't know how I keep hanging out with non-coffee drinkers; guess I should have appreciated having constant coffee buddies in Julia and Mike more. But it was so delicious, and I truly can call myself a coffee connoisseur now.
Following our leisurely lunch, we set off to see a few more sights. Along the way, we went into this AMAZING french tea shop (called Kusmi, I believe) where I was suckered into buying a box of expensive, but absurdly delicious grapefruit-something-green tea (hey now...tea and coffee are more acceptable addictions than drugs and alcohol, at least, though not much cheaper with how particular I have become). We also made our way to the Eiffel tower. It cool to see (I know, such a boring way to describe it, "cool"), and the park around it was lovely, if quite crowded and featuring too many couples groping each other in a public space.
By this point in the afternoon, we were pretty wiped, so we decided to stop by the hostel and drop off our tea before heading out for round two in the evening. En route, we stopped and bought some macaroons. They were okay (nothing compared to German chocolate), I wished I had just gotten another coffee (so I did).
Almost as soon as we were back in our room, I received a text from Reillie, saying that her and her friend Matthieu were in the city as well, so we then headed back out and met up with them. And the Nuit Blanche part of the night was underway.
Nuit Blanche is essentially and all-night art exhibition held across the city. Museums are free all night, in addition to the street performers, galleries, and exhibits that are set up at various spots around Paris. It's quite a unique event, and Paris (which never seems to sleep) is the perfect host.
The first exhibit we went to was "fog art." Calling it art is a generous term, because all it seemed to be was fake fog all around a square in the downtown area. It was kind of a cool novelty at first, but we kept losing each other and it was uncomfortable to inhale so we did last there too long. So then we found the cheapest cafe we could (which was reflected in the quality of the food; though at least you can't really ruin an omelette), and then started walking around looking at other exhibits.
Unfortunately, by this time, it was becoming quite apparent that Laura and I had not really ideally planned our day, at least for this particular weekend in Paris. While we saw SO much of the city during the day, our energy was waning and feet were killing us from spending 15+ hours walking all around the city. Reillie and Matthieu, on the other hand, were fresh and ready to go. So we ended up parting ways at around 11pm, and Laura and I headed back to the hostel. I fell asleep almost immediately.
The next morning, we moved a bit slower (also decided that showering wasn't worth it), but were still out and about by around 9:30 am (if at a much slower pace). The only really big touristy attraction that we saw was the Arc de Triomphe (Laura is an architecture major so I think it was more fascinating to her than me, though still quite impressive). We then searched for a crepe place; a harder job than you would expect since it was Sunday and a lot of places were closed (although a lot more places are open in Paris on Sundays than in Germany). But we were eventually successful, found a place near Versailles where the coffee was even nicer than the day before. I had crepes; she had quiche, we basically were French for the hour we were there.
And then it was time to head back to Stuttgart. We were able to get a ride share on the way back with some dude named Fabian (he wasn't nearly as fun as Lourdes and Chris). We saved a lot of money, but it took us six hours compared to the four on the train. Still was worth it though, especially considering that I was hemorrhaging money the entire weekend.
So, that was Paris! I'm glad that I was able to go and see it, but it wouldn't break my heart if I was never able to go back again. It's beautiful, and there's a lot to see and do, but historical buildings are not as impressive to me as mountains. The Notre Dame and Saint Chappelle are gorgeous, but it wasn't the heart-stopping, jaw-dropping, take-your-breath-away awe and beauty that traveling around New Zealand left me with. Also, Paris really does smell. Especially at night. However, one myth I would dispel is that the people are unfriendly, and don't speak much English. In our experience, you were fine with just English, and while people won't usually go out of their way to be extremely helpful (we did have one waiter who took a fancy to us and was a bit TOO friendly), they weren't rude by any means either.
So, until next time, au revoir! I think I did a better job taking photos this time and will try to keep it that way.
Monday, October 7, 2013
Don't Go to Oktoberfest if You Want to See Munich
Oktoberfest...where do I begin?? It's a crazy, crazy event and if you want to go to Munich to actually see the city, don't come during the three weeks during which this festival takes over the city. It makes finding cheap accommodation and transportation nearly impossible. It's a typical illustration of supply and demand.
Anyway, as a result of higher-than-projected expenses, we had to get creative with our lodging and transportation. So, we turned to couchsurfing.com and carpooling.
Now, I know that to any well-trained American, partaking in either of these seems like asking to be chopped up into a million pieces and being thrown into a ditch on the side of the road by a manic serial killer (believe me, I've watched more Criminal Minds than you). But for us, there was an out to each situation if it didn't work out. We could always book a hostel if we had to (though I'd rather not spend $150 PER NIGHT), and if the people I was riding with seemed sketchy, well, there is a train to Munich (for 100 EURO).
But, luckily, everything ended up working out beautifully. Especially the carpooling. This was the avenue that I had the most reservations with, as I was going alone. At least with the couchsurfing, it would be Reillie and a couple of other girls meeting up with me. However, I met the COOLEST people doing it this way.
I found the drivers, Chris and Lourdes, via one of the many, many carpooling websites in Europe. It's a pretty common thing to do here, with the cost of gas being so high and the practicality of Germans. Anyway, these two were a couple, just a few years older than me, and I want to be best friends with them. The girl, Lourdes, was originally from Spain, but spent a year in Chicago as a student, and spent her summers in California growing up (two points of interest right there). She had just moved to Stuttgart two weeks earlier to be with Chris. He was German, originally from Hamburg but now working in Stuttgart. He went to high school and university in Minneapolis, and then studied abroad in France and Thailand. The conversation was amazing, everyone spoke English as the common language (except for the fourth girl in the car who read her book the entire time...), they played awesome music, and their Mercedes would out even the nicest of trains to shame.
Once we arrived in Munich, they dropped me and the other girl off at the "hauptbahnhof" (main train station), where I met up with another girl, Katie. She is working as an au pair in Berlin. I had never met her until then, but we were introduced on facebook. She is a friend of my best friend Abby's cousin Julia (did you get that?). As I mentioned before, the world becomes much smaller when you're isolated in a foreign country.
Anyway, we took the U-Bahn (thank goodness she knew how it works; I would have been stranded or taking a cab if I was by myself) to where we were staying with the couchsurfing guy that Reillie found. Now, for those of you who are unfamiliar with couchsurfing, it's a website where people all over the world post their willingness to either host, or their need for a host in a specific city. The whole idea behind it is not only to make traveling more budget-friendly, but also to help people network and make new friends. (I still see it as largely an opportunity to mooch).
Now, even with another person, we STILL managed to get lost finding our way to this guy's place. I mean, we weren't really THAT lost, just about a block away but he still had to come rescue us (I actually rather would have been really lost, that's a better story and it's somehow less embarrassing than practically being there and not finding it). His name was Mike, he's a Costa Rican living in Munich for university (he looks like a German though...blonde hair, blue eyes...wouldn't know he was Costa Rican aside from the Spanish accent). The differences between a German and a Spanish speaker were immediately obvious, as he greeted each of us, two perfect strangers, with a hug and a kiss on each cheek. Welcome to Oktoberfest.
There was still quite a bit of time to kill, since we arrived at around 10 pm and Rellie and the girls she was traveling with were still about four hours away. So, we grabbed a few drinks and chatted. Katie talked about about Berlin and her host family (mine is better), and Mike told us about his world travels. He's only 22, but has been to almost 60 countries (more than I will have the energy to see in a lifetime) and speaks Spanish, English, German, Italian, some Russian, and another one that I cannot even remember. Absurd. However, I still came off as cool because he really wants to visit New Zealand, but hasn't yet, and I'm kind of an expert on that stupid, perfect country. He also was a huge Lord of the Rings fan, so that was enough to win him my seal of approval.
Reillie and her traveling companions (two girls from Argentina) arrived at around 2 am and then it was straight off to bed since were were waking up at 6 am to make sure we were in line for a ten by 7:30 am. Now, if you're like me, and you jump into things without thinking, then these "tents" are a foreign language to you, and conjure images of a very large "Easy Up". Not quite so. These tents are HUGE temporary buildings that can hold thousands of people. Unfortunately, the weekend we were at Oktoberfest is the busiest one of all (apparently all the Italians come then for whatever reason), with a projected attendance of 200,000 people. It was insane. We got in line for one of the bigger tents (Paulaner) at 8 am, and stood in line FOR THREE HOURS. It actually really was kind of awful if you have personal space issues (as I do) because, especially as you get closer to the entrance, you're like sardines in a tin.
Just when I was ready to say forget Oktoberfest, we FINALLY got inside and ordered our first beers. And when I say we got inside, we were able to sit down at a table outside the tent in the beer garden. All that waiting and we couldn't even get all the way inside to the music. I wish I could say I was disappointed, but that beer is really strong and once the first one was done, it all gets a bit fuzzy. But I know we had fun. We made friends with some guys from Switzerland (they had a lot more money to spare than us poor American au pairs), and people from Italy, and Germany, and Australia (No Kiwis, unfortunately) and all in all just had a blast talking to people and hearing stories, and yelling and singing and just having a good old time. I wish I could give you more of a description, but the anecdotes are coming back slowly and not all at once.
Anyway, I lasted until about 3 pm, and then realized that perhaps I should have stopped at 2 liters of beer rather than going for a third. So, I made my way back to where we were staying, took a nap from about 4-6:30, woke up feeling awesome, and started drinking rum in preparation for a Spanish party that was going on nearby. That ended up being SOO much fun. I remember more Spanish than I thought, can understand most of it, and just like listening to Spanish music. We danced, and talked and no one was in bed earlier than 3 am.
But we paid for it the next day. It was essentially a wasted day until we dragged ourselves to McDonald's at 3 pm(felt WAY sicker after eating that, actually). Not anyone's proudest day.
And then it was time to go home. I met back up with Chris and Lourdes, we traded stories, Facebook friended each other (Not even joking, I want to be real friends), and then I was back in Kornwestheim, probably looking worse for wear, but really feeling happy.
Because it was exactly how I predicted; the first two weeks were so rough. It's really hard to be in a new country and not know the language or anyone there, but as soon as you get out and start meeting people and appreciating where you are instead of wishing for what you can't have, everything gets better. I felt normal again; I adore this family, but there's a lot to be said for the restorative properties of goofing off with peers.
That is what one liter of 10 euro beer looks like.
Reillie, myself, and Katie.
Stay tuned, for next weekend's Paris saga!
Anyway, as a result of higher-than-projected expenses, we had to get creative with our lodging and transportation. So, we turned to couchsurfing.com and carpooling.
Now, I know that to any well-trained American, partaking in either of these seems like asking to be chopped up into a million pieces and being thrown into a ditch on the side of the road by a manic serial killer (believe me, I've watched more Criminal Minds than you). But for us, there was an out to each situation if it didn't work out. We could always book a hostel if we had to (though I'd rather not spend $150 PER NIGHT), and if the people I was riding with seemed sketchy, well, there is a train to Munich (for 100 EURO).
But, luckily, everything ended up working out beautifully. Especially the carpooling. This was the avenue that I had the most reservations with, as I was going alone. At least with the couchsurfing, it would be Reillie and a couple of other girls meeting up with me. However, I met the COOLEST people doing it this way.
I found the drivers, Chris and Lourdes, via one of the many, many carpooling websites in Europe. It's a pretty common thing to do here, with the cost of gas being so high and the practicality of Germans. Anyway, these two were a couple, just a few years older than me, and I want to be best friends with them. The girl, Lourdes, was originally from Spain, but spent a year in Chicago as a student, and spent her summers in California growing up (two points of interest right there). She had just moved to Stuttgart two weeks earlier to be with Chris. He was German, originally from Hamburg but now working in Stuttgart. He went to high school and university in Minneapolis, and then studied abroad in France and Thailand. The conversation was amazing, everyone spoke English as the common language (except for the fourth girl in the car who read her book the entire time...), they played awesome music, and their Mercedes would out even the nicest of trains to shame.
Once we arrived in Munich, they dropped me and the other girl off at the "hauptbahnhof" (main train station), where I met up with another girl, Katie. She is working as an au pair in Berlin. I had never met her until then, but we were introduced on facebook. She is a friend of my best friend Abby's cousin Julia (did you get that?). As I mentioned before, the world becomes much smaller when you're isolated in a foreign country.
Anyway, we took the U-Bahn (thank goodness she knew how it works; I would have been stranded or taking a cab if I was by myself) to where we were staying with the couchsurfing guy that Reillie found. Now, for those of you who are unfamiliar with couchsurfing, it's a website where people all over the world post their willingness to either host, or their need for a host in a specific city. The whole idea behind it is not only to make traveling more budget-friendly, but also to help people network and make new friends. (I still see it as largely an opportunity to mooch).
Now, even with another person, we STILL managed to get lost finding our way to this guy's place. I mean, we weren't really THAT lost, just about a block away but he still had to come rescue us (I actually rather would have been really lost, that's a better story and it's somehow less embarrassing than practically being there and not finding it). His name was Mike, he's a Costa Rican living in Munich for university (he looks like a German though...blonde hair, blue eyes...wouldn't know he was Costa Rican aside from the Spanish accent). The differences between a German and a Spanish speaker were immediately obvious, as he greeted each of us, two perfect strangers, with a hug and a kiss on each cheek. Welcome to Oktoberfest.
There was still quite a bit of time to kill, since we arrived at around 10 pm and Rellie and the girls she was traveling with were still about four hours away. So, we grabbed a few drinks and chatted. Katie talked about about Berlin and her host family (mine is better), and Mike told us about his world travels. He's only 22, but has been to almost 60 countries (more than I will have the energy to see in a lifetime) and speaks Spanish, English, German, Italian, some Russian, and another one that I cannot even remember. Absurd. However, I still came off as cool because he really wants to visit New Zealand, but hasn't yet, and I'm kind of an expert on that stupid, perfect country. He also was a huge Lord of the Rings fan, so that was enough to win him my seal of approval.
Reillie and her traveling companions (two girls from Argentina) arrived at around 2 am and then it was straight off to bed since were were waking up at 6 am to make sure we were in line for a ten by 7:30 am. Now, if you're like me, and you jump into things without thinking, then these "tents" are a foreign language to you, and conjure images of a very large "Easy Up". Not quite so. These tents are HUGE temporary buildings that can hold thousands of people. Unfortunately, the weekend we were at Oktoberfest is the busiest one of all (apparently all the Italians come then for whatever reason), with a projected attendance of 200,000 people. It was insane. We got in line for one of the bigger tents (Paulaner) at 8 am, and stood in line FOR THREE HOURS. It actually really was kind of awful if you have personal space issues (as I do) because, especially as you get closer to the entrance, you're like sardines in a tin.
Just when I was ready to say forget Oktoberfest, we FINALLY got inside and ordered our first beers. And when I say we got inside, we were able to sit down at a table outside the tent in the beer garden. All that waiting and we couldn't even get all the way inside to the music. I wish I could say I was disappointed, but that beer is really strong and once the first one was done, it all gets a bit fuzzy. But I know we had fun. We made friends with some guys from Switzerland (they had a lot more money to spare than us poor American au pairs), and people from Italy, and Germany, and Australia (No Kiwis, unfortunately) and all in all just had a blast talking to people and hearing stories, and yelling and singing and just having a good old time. I wish I could give you more of a description, but the anecdotes are coming back slowly and not all at once.
Anyway, I lasted until about 3 pm, and then realized that perhaps I should have stopped at 2 liters of beer rather than going for a third. So, I made my way back to where we were staying, took a nap from about 4-6:30, woke up feeling awesome, and started drinking rum in preparation for a Spanish party that was going on nearby. That ended up being SOO much fun. I remember more Spanish than I thought, can understand most of it, and just like listening to Spanish music. We danced, and talked and no one was in bed earlier than 3 am.
But we paid for it the next day. It was essentially a wasted day until we dragged ourselves to McDonald's at 3 pm(felt WAY sicker after eating that, actually). Not anyone's proudest day.
And then it was time to go home. I met back up with Chris and Lourdes, we traded stories, Facebook friended each other (Not even joking, I want to be real friends), and then I was back in Kornwestheim, probably looking worse for wear, but really feeling happy.
Because it was exactly how I predicted; the first two weeks were so rough. It's really hard to be in a new country and not know the language or anyone there, but as soon as you get out and start meeting people and appreciating where you are instead of wishing for what you can't have, everything gets better. I felt normal again; I adore this family, but there's a lot to be said for the restorative properties of goofing off with peers.
Also, only managed to take two photos while I was there. I'll do better with future travels.
Stay tuned, for next weekend's Paris saga!
German Birthdays
Now, before I begin to describe the 36 hour insanity that was Oktoberfest, I felt like I should briefly describe a few German birthday traditions. Mostly because there is at least one that I would like to bring back with me to the states.
This particular birthday was for Maja. She turned eight, and I think seeing her excitement made me realize how much more exciting birthdays are when you are young. I think part of it is that you get real gifts, which are much more exciting to open than an envelope with cash or a check is. Also, it's nice to actually look forward to getting older; I'm only 23 yet I called my birthday this year the "third annual celebration of my 21st." I've already run out of fun birthdays. Now I'm just getting old.
BUT, anyway, getting back on track, we all woke up REALLY early (5:45/6am) so that Maja could open all her presents. She made quite a haul, and I'm allowed to say that because I wrapped most of those presents. Naturally, it looked like a creature lacking opposable thumbs had done the job. Tim's birthday is in November, and then it's Christmas, so I'm either going to be a pro at wrapping gifts by the end or they have a year's worth of poorly wrapped presents to endure.
Following the extended present wrapping, we had a breakfast of "maultaschen." It's basically a German ravioli. It has its root as a sneaky way to eat meat on Friday. It looks like just spinach inside, but really, it's mostly sausage and bacon wrapped in noodles. It was pretty good; we ate them cold but I think it might have been a bit better heated up.
Then came my favorite part: cake! Yes, Germans have cake for breakfast. But, don't worry, they also have it again in the evening. Unfortunately for my taste buds (but to the relief of my skinny jeans), I missed out on the other cakes (yes, plural...and also lasagna and casserole) because I was en route to Munich for her party that night, but I at least opened my day with a chocolate and strawberry mousse cake in the morning.
Anyway, moral of the story is: Americans, let's have two cakes for our birthdays. Start the day off properly, and then end it well too.
This particular birthday was for Maja. She turned eight, and I think seeing her excitement made me realize how much more exciting birthdays are when you are young. I think part of it is that you get real gifts, which are much more exciting to open than an envelope with cash or a check is. Also, it's nice to actually look forward to getting older; I'm only 23 yet I called my birthday this year the "third annual celebration of my 21st." I've already run out of fun birthdays. Now I'm just getting old.
BUT, anyway, getting back on track, we all woke up REALLY early (5:45/6am) so that Maja could open all her presents. She made quite a haul, and I'm allowed to say that because I wrapped most of those presents. Naturally, it looked like a creature lacking opposable thumbs had done the job. Tim's birthday is in November, and then it's Christmas, so I'm either going to be a pro at wrapping gifts by the end or they have a year's worth of poorly wrapped presents to endure.
Following the extended present wrapping, we had a breakfast of "maultaschen." It's basically a German ravioli. It has its root as a sneaky way to eat meat on Friday. It looks like just spinach inside, but really, it's mostly sausage and bacon wrapped in noodles. It was pretty good; we ate them cold but I think it might have been a bit better heated up.
Then came my favorite part: cake! Yes, Germans have cake for breakfast. But, don't worry, they also have it again in the evening. Unfortunately for my taste buds (but to the relief of my skinny jeans), I missed out on the other cakes (yes, plural...and also lasagna and casserole) because I was en route to Munich for her party that night, but I at least opened my day with a chocolate and strawberry mousse cake in the morning.
Anyway, moral of the story is: Americans, let's have two cakes for our birthdays. Start the day off properly, and then end it well too.
My "Host" Family
Hey! Sorry for the huge gap between posts; I haven't had a ton of free time, with Oktoberfest and then Paris on back to back weekends (and then in-between some scarlet fever and doctor's visits to keep things interesting...). I actually have a lot to say and report on, but my tendency to write out everything by hand before posting kind of slows down the process. So first will be just this general post, then another rather general one, then Oktoberfest, and lastly, Paris. Like I said, everything except for Paris was written at least a week ago; I just haven't yet taken the time to update here. But, here we are:
I truly despise the term "host" family; it makes me feel like a parasite, and it feels too formal for a situation in which you're supposed to become a part of the family. Anyway, everyone keeps asking for more details on what the family is like, and rather than say the same many times, I'm just going to address it here. Now, keep in mind that I've only known them for two full weeks, so this description is just past a first impression, relatively speaking.
The mom, Nicole, is one of the kindest human beings who I have ever had the privilege of meeting. She's extremely open, dedicated to her kids, and always willing to help me in anyway with the transition from the states to Germany and her family. I really feel included as a member of the family rather than just a nanny/chauffeur. She's also really very tolerant about things that I am admittedly terrible at (AKA...not getting lost and ironing). Nicole is also one of the hardest-working people I have ever met; she works for two companies, and has her own business AND is working on starting another. If I ever feel over-scheduled again in my life, I just need to remember what her planner looks like and I will stop feeling sorry for myself.
The oldest child, Caro, is fifteen. She is the one who I was initially most worried about bonding with. I assumed that, since she is older, and this family has had a lot of au pairs, that she would be sick of having a full-time babysitter, or rebellious or just not keen on me being there in general. So naturally, me being me, I basically asked her that straight away, and was pleasantly surprised to find that I was completely wrong. Caro said she sees how much easier having another adult makes life for Nicole, and also says that it's good for Maja. Also, she apparently likes practicing her English, and since I like to talk, it's not a problem for me either. Caro is also super open, and funny, and our mutual love of animals (and boys...) creates a solid foundation and a lot of talking points.
Tim, the middle child and only boy, is thirteen. I know him the least, as he is the quietest of the bunch (at least around me), but I have absolutely nothing bad to say about him. He is a very sweet boy, a good older brother to Maja, and not difficult in the slightest. I'm still working on connecting more with him (without crossing over into being TOO obnoxious and terrifying him) and as the weeks go on I feel better about it. He tolerates my awkward attempts at conversation, and my interrogation on life as a German teenager (does everyone wear their hair like that? That jacked is weird, right?). He also loves Skyfall and James Bond, so we at least have that going for us, and he promised to watch Lord of the Rings with me at some point. Obviously, there will be no major issues.
And then there's Maja, the baby of the family. She just turned eight, and is hilarious. I already adore her, but that's nothing unusual; I'm fairly certain it's impossible to NOT fall in love with this child. Aside from driving, spending time with her is the biggest part of my day. Which still really isn't even that much; Maja has a lot of friends and spends most of her time with them, either at this house or theirs. I'm mostly us the the homework enforcer, and part-time Monopoly and Mamma Mia buddy. From stories I've heard from family members, Maja is almost a carbon copy of how I was at her age; obsessed with animals, feisty, and just so much fun (not to toot my own horn or anything...). She has me roped into some game where we alternate meowing and patting each other's head. I'm pretty sure she made it up (her English always seems to disappear when I ask that...), and I'm not sure if I should be encouraging it but it keeps her occupied in between board games.
And, with me being me, this description of the family would not be complete without a mention of Lina, the resident canine. She's a very cute, three-year-old Spaniel mix that they rescued from Spain. She's great with the kids, obedient when it suits her, and a good walking buddy (it looks a lot less weird when I wander aimlessly around town with a dog rather than alone). If anything, she's probably too cute because people always want to pet her and start asking me questions in German (I just smile and laugh and then start moving again). LIna was actually a nice bonus for choosing this family; my heart is still a little broken to leave my beautiful Jazz behind (again! I am a terrible dog mother), so it's nice that there is still a dog here to ease me through withdrawal.
Anyway, as you can see, I've landed myself in quite a nice situation so far as the family is concerned. I read about all the potential pitfalls before coming here, and I've heard about some firsthand since being here (one woman refuses to talk to her au pair...she just texts her what she wants her to do), and experienced none of those. Part of that may be because I'm the 13th au pair for the family (Nicole gave me a handbook...), so everything runs like a well-oiled machine, but I also think it's also because they're a tight family, and having an au pair doesn't mean that Nicole has any less to do with the kids. They respect me because they respect her and I think in a lot of other situations that I have heard of, where the kids either refuse to listen at all or blow off the au pair constantly, it's because the parents are absent and the au pair isn't really equipped to be the disciplinarian. I would hate to be in one of those houses. The transition was rough enough when my family was amazing so I can only imagine how it was for people who weren't being helped through it all.
And once again, I'm terrible with photos. Will update this with pictures of everyone when I can!
I truly despise the term "host" family; it makes me feel like a parasite, and it feels too formal for a situation in which you're supposed to become a part of the family. Anyway, everyone keeps asking for more details on what the family is like, and rather than say the same many times, I'm just going to address it here. Now, keep in mind that I've only known them for two full weeks, so this description is just past a first impression, relatively speaking.
The mom, Nicole, is one of the kindest human beings who I have ever had the privilege of meeting. She's extremely open, dedicated to her kids, and always willing to help me in anyway with the transition from the states to Germany and her family. I really feel included as a member of the family rather than just a nanny/chauffeur. She's also really very tolerant about things that I am admittedly terrible at (AKA...not getting lost and ironing). Nicole is also one of the hardest-working people I have ever met; she works for two companies, and has her own business AND is working on starting another. If I ever feel over-scheduled again in my life, I just need to remember what her planner looks like and I will stop feeling sorry for myself.
The oldest child, Caro, is fifteen. She is the one who I was initially most worried about bonding with. I assumed that, since she is older, and this family has had a lot of au pairs, that she would be sick of having a full-time babysitter, or rebellious or just not keen on me being there in general. So naturally, me being me, I basically asked her that straight away, and was pleasantly surprised to find that I was completely wrong. Caro said she sees how much easier having another adult makes life for Nicole, and also says that it's good for Maja. Also, she apparently likes practicing her English, and since I like to talk, it's not a problem for me either. Caro is also super open, and funny, and our mutual love of animals (and boys...) creates a solid foundation and a lot of talking points.
Tim, the middle child and only boy, is thirteen. I know him the least, as he is the quietest of the bunch (at least around me), but I have absolutely nothing bad to say about him. He is a very sweet boy, a good older brother to Maja, and not difficult in the slightest. I'm still working on connecting more with him (without crossing over into being TOO obnoxious and terrifying him) and as the weeks go on I feel better about it. He tolerates my awkward attempts at conversation, and my interrogation on life as a German teenager (does everyone wear their hair like that? That jacked is weird, right?). He also loves Skyfall and James Bond, so we at least have that going for us, and he promised to watch Lord of the Rings with me at some point. Obviously, there will be no major issues.
And then there's Maja, the baby of the family. She just turned eight, and is hilarious. I already adore her, but that's nothing unusual; I'm fairly certain it's impossible to NOT fall in love with this child. Aside from driving, spending time with her is the biggest part of my day. Which still really isn't even that much; Maja has a lot of friends and spends most of her time with them, either at this house or theirs. I'm mostly us the the homework enforcer, and part-time Monopoly and Mamma Mia buddy. From stories I've heard from family members, Maja is almost a carbon copy of how I was at her age; obsessed with animals, feisty, and just so much fun (not to toot my own horn or anything...). She has me roped into some game where we alternate meowing and patting each other's head. I'm pretty sure she made it up (her English always seems to disappear when I ask that...), and I'm not sure if I should be encouraging it but it keeps her occupied in between board games.
And, with me being me, this description of the family would not be complete without a mention of Lina, the resident canine. She's a very cute, three-year-old Spaniel mix that they rescued from Spain. She's great with the kids, obedient when it suits her, and a good walking buddy (it looks a lot less weird when I wander aimlessly around town with a dog rather than alone). If anything, she's probably too cute because people always want to pet her and start asking me questions in German (I just smile and laugh and then start moving again). LIna was actually a nice bonus for choosing this family; my heart is still a little broken to leave my beautiful Jazz behind (again! I am a terrible dog mother), so it's nice that there is still a dog here to ease me through withdrawal.
Anyway, as you can see, I've landed myself in quite a nice situation so far as the family is concerned. I read about all the potential pitfalls before coming here, and I've heard about some firsthand since being here (one woman refuses to talk to her au pair...she just texts her what she wants her to do), and experienced none of those. Part of that may be because I'm the 13th au pair for the family (Nicole gave me a handbook...), so everything runs like a well-oiled machine, but I also think it's also because they're a tight family, and having an au pair doesn't mean that Nicole has any less to do with the kids. They respect me because they respect her and I think in a lot of other situations that I have heard of, where the kids either refuse to listen at all or blow off the au pair constantly, it's because the parents are absent and the au pair isn't really equipped to be the disciplinarian. I would hate to be in one of those houses. The transition was rough enough when my family was amazing so I can only imagine how it was for people who weren't being helped through it all.
And once again, I'm terrible with photos. Will update this with pictures of everyone when I can!
Tuesday, September 24, 2013
Riding the Culture Shock Waves
As I'm looking back at the past two posts, it seems like I am all doom and gloom with a pessimistic attitude. While I'd be lying if I said I was a bundle of sunshine all the time and didn't admit to some moments of homesickness, or days when I idealize everything about home, I am liking Germany so far. All of that other emotional instability is just a part of the transition.
Culture shock is always a big part of pre-departure discussions when you study abroad, and for good reason. It is a real thing, and very few are immune to its effects. You have to be prepared for it to hit, and ready to work through it or you will very quickly become disillusioned with your current situation.
Since I have uprooted my life a time or two before, I know myself and how I react in these types of situations. They always say that culture shock (AKA, mild depression characterized by rose-colored lenses toward anything and everything related to home) hits you about a month in. I am unusual in that it hits me almost immediately, and usually resolves itself within the first 2-3 weeks. Usually the best cure, at least in my experience is to stay as busy as possible, develop some sort of routine, and find friends.
The routine aspect is set. During the week, my days are spoken for from 7 AM to 5 PM, with some free time in the late morning/afternoon. Evenings and weekends are my own.
The harder part has been making friends. I'm a fairly outgoing and friendly person when I need to be, but when 80% of your time is spent with a family and your knowledge of a county's language is absolutely minimal it's a bit difficult. You have to get creative.
Not that I am letting this get me down. It's character building for me to be content with just me, gives me time to write, and is allowing me to get to know this family more quickly. I also will be starting a language class in November, which should open up my social circle quite a bit.
And in the meantime, I am lucky that another girl who I went to Valpo with is in a similar situation as an au pair in France. So, this coming weekend, we are headed over to Munich for Oktoberfest, and then the weekend following we are meeting up in Paris for an event called Nuit Blanche. And thus my European tour will officially begin!
I truly am enjoying Germany, despite the waves of homesickness. Each day is a learning experience, and I'm learning patience (people tell me that's a virtue...still think it's overrated) as I deal with the frustration of being immersed in a new language daily. Grocery shopping takes about three times as long as it should, and I get lost all the time. But each day I do a little better than before, and that's all anyone can really ask for, right? And I truly am learning the language more quickly than I would have thought was possible. If you really want to learn a new language, immersion is the answer.
Kornwestheim is so stereotypically quaintly European that I love just wandering around. There are enough cafés to occupy my coffee obsession and give me somewhere to go and hang out on weekend. Still need to check out the gelato place, though..
Anyway, here are some photos that I took around town on Sunday. Enjoy! Auf wiedersehen!
My home for the next year! Quite nice, eh?
Culture shock is always a big part of pre-departure discussions when you study abroad, and for good reason. It is a real thing, and very few are immune to its effects. You have to be prepared for it to hit, and ready to work through it or you will very quickly become disillusioned with your current situation.
Since I have uprooted my life a time or two before, I know myself and how I react in these types of situations. They always say that culture shock (AKA, mild depression characterized by rose-colored lenses toward anything and everything related to home) hits you about a month in. I am unusual in that it hits me almost immediately, and usually resolves itself within the first 2-3 weeks. Usually the best cure, at least in my experience is to stay as busy as possible, develop some sort of routine, and find friends.
The routine aspect is set. During the week, my days are spoken for from 7 AM to 5 PM, with some free time in the late morning/afternoon. Evenings and weekends are my own.
The harder part has been making friends. I'm a fairly outgoing and friendly person when I need to be, but when 80% of your time is spent with a family and your knowledge of a county's language is absolutely minimal it's a bit difficult. You have to get creative.
Not that I am letting this get me down. It's character building for me to be content with just me, gives me time to write, and is allowing me to get to know this family more quickly. I also will be starting a language class in November, which should open up my social circle quite a bit.
And in the meantime, I am lucky that another girl who I went to Valpo with is in a similar situation as an au pair in France. So, this coming weekend, we are headed over to Munich for Oktoberfest, and then the weekend following we are meeting up in Paris for an event called Nuit Blanche. And thus my European tour will officially begin!
I truly am enjoying Germany, despite the waves of homesickness. Each day is a learning experience, and I'm learning patience (people tell me that's a virtue...still think it's overrated) as I deal with the frustration of being immersed in a new language daily. Grocery shopping takes about three times as long as it should, and I get lost all the time. But each day I do a little better than before, and that's all anyone can really ask for, right? And I truly am learning the language more quickly than I would have thought was possible. If you really want to learn a new language, immersion is the answer.
Kornwestheim is so stereotypically quaintly European that I love just wandering around. There are enough cafés to occupy my coffee obsession and give me somewhere to go and hang out on weekend. Still need to check out the gelato place, though..
Anyway, here are some photos that I took around town on Sunday. Enjoy! Auf wiedersehen!
The streets of downtown Kornwestheim. It is not fun to navigate a van through there.
My current favorite cafe. I'm going to write the next great American novel here.
German Cars Drink Diesel Fuel
If there's a certain amount of poor luck or errors guaranteed to happen in any given situation in life, then I hope I knocked out most of mine for the coming year in one fell swoop.
In less than a week, I succeeded in sabotaging one of the most expensive items in any household: the family vehicle. In this case, that vehicle is a 2008 Volkswagen conversion van (see photo below...I'm working on improving our relationship). I should also mention that this car is terrifying to drive through narrow European streets. While it's turning radius is actually quite good considering its size, I still feel like I am going to run over something or somebody before the year is out. There have already been a lot of near misses with birds. I guess that's better than dogs or small children, though.
Now, before anyone gets too concerned, know that no one was harmed during this incident, and the van was back in commission by the end of the day. Though it did cost 800 euro to resolve the issue, plus the cost of the rental car (it was a BMW, and was a delight to drive. But I probably would have had a speeding ticket if we kept it for too long, so it's good that it was only in my possession for about three hours).
Anyway, it was my very first Tuesday morning here in Germany. I successfully readied the kids for school and drove them to school without getting lost or causing an accident in the process. I was feeling pretty confident and happy in my situation. The sun was shining, birds were singing, I was on the edge of joining them in my own terrible rendition of "The Sound of Music." Nothing was going to bring me down.
Then I saw that the gas gauge was just about on "E". So, on the way back to the house, I pulled into a gas station for what I figured would be a ten to fifteen minute errand tops. I was mistaken.
First of all, it took me about 20 minutes to locate the gas cap in the first place. For future reference to anyone who may ever find themselves in a similar situation, for whatever reason, it is located in between the driver's door and the left passenger door. To access it, both doors must be open. There must be a serious gas siphoning issue in Germany. Once I finally had that open, I searched for a way to pay, since that's how we do things in America. However, in Germany (or at least at this particular gas station), there are no automatic prepay machines at the pump. So I went inside, where a very confused, but fairly attractive young German lad told me that I pay AFTER I fuel up. He also offered to pump the gas for me. I politely declined. In hindsight, I should have taken him up on that offer.
So, I went back to the pump, filled up the tank with regular gas, paid, flirted with that boy a little bit, and headed back to the house. All was right in the world.
For about ten minutes.
Then the engine shut off, and started flashing that scary exclamation point in a triangle sign and I coasted it to the side of the road and threw on the hazards. I tried to start the car twice, but when it kept not catching, I got out and began to evaluate my situation.
I was about 3-4 miles away from the house, so walking was a possibility if all else failed. However, I knew that the car wasn't parked legally, and didn't want it to be towed by the time I found help. I also did not have a working cell phone at the time since my German SIM card was taking its sweet time arriving. So, I began walking around talking to strangers and trying to find someone who knew enough English to lend me their phone or point me in the direction of a phone. Luckily, an older German lady took pity on me fairly quickly and sent me off in the direction of a kindergarten school. I burst into the office, and started frantically explaining my situation to the lady in there. The poor women didn't know much English, but she let me use the phone ("My English is not well but you can use the telephone. It seems important."). I reached Nicole right away, and walked back to the car. While I waited for her to arrive, I started reading the manual (well, as much as I could, as it was all in German...).
On a bad hunch, I hopped out of the car and opened the gas cap again. My siblings and I had always asked my dad what would happen if we ever put regular gas in our 1999 Cadillac DeVille, which likes premium. He always just responded with, "Something more expensive than paying for the right fuel." Sure enough, this was a DIESEL van.
If I was the crying type, I probably would have started weeping right then and there. However, I retained my composure because if I let myself start crying, I wouldn't have been able to stop. I probably would have been begging to get back on the next plane to Chicago had I moved into hysterics.
Thankfully, Nicole was quite kind and understanding about the entire situation. I think she shared in on some of the blame with me; I hadn't thought to ask what kind of fuel it took, and she hadn't thought to tell me (though I guess if I had read the sticker in the first place...). Still, it was a rather tense couple of hours until we learned that the car (or, the bus, as the family refers to it) was fully functional after having the fuel lines flushed out and the filter replaced. It was an expensive fix, but nothing that would break the bank and much cheaper than having the entire fuel system and engine replaced would cost (which was what google scared us with).
So, all in all, not one of my better days. But at least no one was hurt and there was no lasting damage of any sort done. And if that's the worst thing that happens the entire time that I am here, I will count myself lucky. Does this count as a cultural difference? I told Nicole that she needs an insurance policy that covers the ignorance of American Au Pairs. Or, this could have been a common sense issue specific to me. Oh, well. What's done is done, and this is one mistake I will never make again.
Anyway, that's all for now. Hopefully next time there will be no more drama! Tschus!
In less than a week, I succeeded in sabotaging one of the most expensive items in any household: the family vehicle. In this case, that vehicle is a 2008 Volkswagen conversion van (see photo below...I'm working on improving our relationship). I should also mention that this car is terrifying to drive through narrow European streets. While it's turning radius is actually quite good considering its size, I still feel like I am going to run over something or somebody before the year is out. There have already been a lot of near misses with birds. I guess that's better than dogs or small children, though.
Now, before anyone gets too concerned, know that no one was harmed during this incident, and the van was back in commission by the end of the day. Though it did cost 800 euro to resolve the issue, plus the cost of the rental car (it was a BMW, and was a delight to drive. But I probably would have had a speeding ticket if we kept it for too long, so it's good that it was only in my possession for about three hours).
Anyway, it was my very first Tuesday morning here in Germany. I successfully readied the kids for school and drove them to school without getting lost or causing an accident in the process. I was feeling pretty confident and happy in my situation. The sun was shining, birds were singing, I was on the edge of joining them in my own terrible rendition of "The Sound of Music." Nothing was going to bring me down.
Then I saw that the gas gauge was just about on "E". So, on the way back to the house, I pulled into a gas station for what I figured would be a ten to fifteen minute errand tops. I was mistaken.
First of all, it took me about 20 minutes to locate the gas cap in the first place. For future reference to anyone who may ever find themselves in a similar situation, for whatever reason, it is located in between the driver's door and the left passenger door. To access it, both doors must be open. There must be a serious gas siphoning issue in Germany. Once I finally had that open, I searched for a way to pay, since that's how we do things in America. However, in Germany (or at least at this particular gas station), there are no automatic prepay machines at the pump. So I went inside, where a very confused, but fairly attractive young German lad told me that I pay AFTER I fuel up. He also offered to pump the gas for me. I politely declined. In hindsight, I should have taken him up on that offer.
So, I went back to the pump, filled up the tank with regular gas, paid, flirted with that boy a little bit, and headed back to the house. All was right in the world.
For about ten minutes.
Then the engine shut off, and started flashing that scary exclamation point in a triangle sign and I coasted it to the side of the road and threw on the hazards. I tried to start the car twice, but when it kept not catching, I got out and began to evaluate my situation.
I was about 3-4 miles away from the house, so walking was a possibility if all else failed. However, I knew that the car wasn't parked legally, and didn't want it to be towed by the time I found help. I also did not have a working cell phone at the time since my German SIM card was taking its sweet time arriving. So, I began walking around talking to strangers and trying to find someone who knew enough English to lend me their phone or point me in the direction of a phone. Luckily, an older German lady took pity on me fairly quickly and sent me off in the direction of a kindergarten school. I burst into the office, and started frantically explaining my situation to the lady in there. The poor women didn't know much English, but she let me use the phone ("My English is not well but you can use the telephone. It seems important."). I reached Nicole right away, and walked back to the car. While I waited for her to arrive, I started reading the manual (well, as much as I could, as it was all in German...).
On a bad hunch, I hopped out of the car and opened the gas cap again. My siblings and I had always asked my dad what would happen if we ever put regular gas in our 1999 Cadillac DeVille, which likes premium. He always just responded with, "Something more expensive than paying for the right fuel." Sure enough, this was a DIESEL van.
If I was the crying type, I probably would have started weeping right then and there. However, I retained my composure because if I let myself start crying, I wouldn't have been able to stop. I probably would have been begging to get back on the next plane to Chicago had I moved into hysterics.
Thankfully, Nicole was quite kind and understanding about the entire situation. I think she shared in on some of the blame with me; I hadn't thought to ask what kind of fuel it took, and she hadn't thought to tell me (though I guess if I had read the sticker in the first place...). Still, it was a rather tense couple of hours until we learned that the car (or, the bus, as the family refers to it) was fully functional after having the fuel lines flushed out and the filter replaced. It was an expensive fix, but nothing that would break the bank and much cheaper than having the entire fuel system and engine replaced would cost (which was what google scared us with).
So, all in all, not one of my better days. But at least no one was hurt and there was no lasting damage of any sort done. And if that's the worst thing that happens the entire time that I am here, I will count myself lucky. Does this count as a cultural difference? I told Nicole that she needs an insurance policy that covers the ignorance of American Au Pairs. Or, this could have been a common sense issue specific to me. Oh, well. What's done is done, and this is one mistake I will never make again.
Anyway, that's all for now. Hopefully next time there will be no more drama! Tschus!
Paleo is Not a Thing in Germany
My first weekend in Kornwestheim has revealed that at least two German stereotypes are true: (1)The chocolate is out of this world. (2)Bread is the foundation of a German diet.
Now, for those of you who know me well, (as well as those of you who just stumbled onto my latest fixation), in LA, I (stereotypically, I know) developed a preoccupation with health and fitness. This led to a Crossfit obsession (those of you anywhere near Orland should join this gym) and a fairly strict adherence to the paleolithic eating pattern (notice that I didn't use the curse word, "diet," it's supposed to be a lifestyle change). Anyway, without going into all the details and getting on my nutritional high horse, for paleo, you essentially eliminate grains from your food pyramid and replace them with copious amounts of vegetables. You also eat lots of meat, eggs and healthy fats (avocado, coconut, butter), while keeping sweets to a minimum (I ate a LOT of dark chocolate).
This was a way of living that I enjoyed as I could eat almost as much as I wanted while watching my physique lean out quickly. It's very easy to follow and maintain when you're in charge of buying and preparing all your food. I walked to Trader Joe's almost every day and bought fresh and frozen veggies and chicken and pork and beef. My roommate thought I was nuts, but his idea of a balanced meal is either In 'n Out, McDonald's, or Taco Bell so I didn't take his opinion on that particular subject very seriously (sorry, Hunter).
But now, here in Germany, that lifestyle is not really possible. There's a bakery on every street corner, pasta and bread (and sometimes both) are the centerpiece of every meal, and I don't want to be rude (at least not yet) and eat on my own rather than with the family.
I also think that this could be a good thing. The will teach me portion control; the entire family is quite lean so carbs can't be QUITE as bad as I believe they are. However, I reserve the right to gorge myself on broccoli, green beans, and asparagus whenever my heart desires it.
And, the "worst" case scenario is that I spend a year eating ungodly amounts of bread in a country with unparalleled rolls (maybe France will compete once I get there...), and then go back to the states and find the quality to be lacking and never want to eat it again. I can be paleo in America and a carb fanatic in Germany. Though there are many benefits to the good old US of A, have to hand quality breads to the Germans.
And chocolate. Can't forget the chocolate. I will definitely be visiting the Ritter Sport Factory while I am here. Hopefully they give out better samples than the Cadbury Chocolate Factory in Dunedin does, though...
Now, for those of you who know me well, (as well as those of you who just stumbled onto my latest fixation), in LA, I (stereotypically, I know) developed a preoccupation with health and fitness. This led to a Crossfit obsession (those of you anywhere near Orland should join this gym) and a fairly strict adherence to the paleolithic eating pattern (notice that I didn't use the curse word, "diet," it's supposed to be a lifestyle change). Anyway, without going into all the details and getting on my nutritional high horse, for paleo, you essentially eliminate grains from your food pyramid and replace them with copious amounts of vegetables. You also eat lots of meat, eggs and healthy fats (avocado, coconut, butter), while keeping sweets to a minimum (I ate a LOT of dark chocolate).
This was a way of living that I enjoyed as I could eat almost as much as I wanted while watching my physique lean out quickly. It's very easy to follow and maintain when you're in charge of buying and preparing all your food. I walked to Trader Joe's almost every day and bought fresh and frozen veggies and chicken and pork and beef. My roommate thought I was nuts, but his idea of a balanced meal is either In 'n Out, McDonald's, or Taco Bell so I didn't take his opinion on that particular subject very seriously (sorry, Hunter).
But now, here in Germany, that lifestyle is not really possible. There's a bakery on every street corner, pasta and bread (and sometimes both) are the centerpiece of every meal, and I don't want to be rude (at least not yet) and eat on my own rather than with the family.
I also think that this could be a good thing. The will teach me portion control; the entire family is quite lean so carbs can't be QUITE as bad as I believe they are. However, I reserve the right to gorge myself on broccoli, green beans, and asparagus whenever my heart desires it.
And, the "worst" case scenario is that I spend a year eating ungodly amounts of bread in a country with unparalleled rolls (maybe France will compete once I get there...), and then go back to the states and find the quality to be lacking and never want to eat it again. I can be paleo in America and a carb fanatic in Germany. Though there are many benefits to the good old US of A, have to hand quality breads to the Germans.
And chocolate. Can't forget the chocolate. I will definitely be visiting the Ritter Sport Factory while I am here. Hopefully they give out better samples than the Cadbury Chocolate Factory in Dunedin does, though...
Here's a photo of Maja and I. She's turning eight next week. In the words of a friend of mine, I am "already teaching her to be a lady."
Heading to Deutschland
So here I am, stepping back into the world of blogging to chronicle my latest adventures and latest questionable life decisions.
First of all, I should set some context for those of you who stumble upon here. I am a 23-year-old recent graduate from Valparaiso University. I earned a Bachelor of Arts in English and Humanities. If you try to tell me that it's a useless degree, I will disagree because I have to. And also because it does leave your options open; there are a lot of different directions career-wise that you could go; they just all require some creativity. This is an issue for another day, as I could argue the merits and drawbacks of graduating with an arts degree for ages.
Anyway, I exited university armed with my degree, an internship for Conan O'Brien in Los Angeles, and a semester abroad at the University of Otago in Dunedin New Zealand (for all the exciting details about the best six months of my life, see the sidebar to your right, and click on "IFSA-Butler New Zealand Blog"). And thus I began (along with thousands of my peers in the class of 2013) the tedious process of applying for nearly every job that I was even remotely qualified for (and some that I wasn't).
I received a few offers; one as an English teacher in Beijing, a teacher in Florida, and various dull, marketing and sales positions that I could have been hired for without a college degree. And many, many rejections. However, since all but one rejection was based solely off of my resume, I didn't take most of it too personally.
And then there was one rejection that I DID take personally. A certain company (which shall remain nameless, for the moment...) put me through a string of personality tests and writing samples and phone interviews before finally inviting me to an on-site interview, complete with more personality tests, writing samples, and discussions with various members within the company. The position was as a technical writer for a software company; far from ideal, but at least it was writing and there were some nice benefits and a good paycheck accompanying it. I thought I had it; all the interviews went well, and I know that I am a talented writer. I even went so far as to start looking at apartments in the area and looking into buying a car. I succeeded in really convincing myself that this was what I wanted; the beginnings of a solid career in something and a settled life. I had already done New Zealand and Los Angeles; two amazing opportunities that most people will never experience in their lives. I thought it was time for me to behave and act like a responsible human being.
For better or worse, there was another plan in the cards for me. At the very end of the interview process, I was discarded along with countless other applicants. It came as a huge shock; I was back to square one. The settled life that I had been painting vanished before my eyes, and in a fit of rage, I began applying for jobs all over the world.
But everything happens for a reason. The night before I received the pitying phone call where I was told that the company was "moving forward with other applicants," I had been watching Midnight in Paris and felt a pang of regret that there was no way that I would be doing a tour of Europe (or any other foreign country) anytime in the foreseeable future. Two weeks of freedom from work goes fast in the adult world. I applied for all sorts of jobs, but the ones that ended up biting were from families looking for an educated au pair (basically, a live-in nanny) for their children.
And so it ended up that I accepted a position with a family in Stuttgart, Germany. To the surprise of everyone (including myself), I am forsaking a job in the real world and the beginnings of a career for a sort of sabbatical in Europe.
To be fair, it's not an entirely selfish and irrational move though. One of my potential career aspirations (aside from becoming the next Stephen King or J.K. Rowling, of course...) is to work in International Education and/or a study abroad program so I can help more students to have that same life-changing experience that I was lucky enough to have in New Zealand.
Here's to hoping that Germany offers some of the same benefits! I'm less nervous about this than I was before New Zealand, but I actually think that this may be more challenging in some respects. The language barrier and the lack of a built-in peer group to begin with may make my social life rather absent to begin with at first, but I am looking forward to rising tot he challenge. After all, I'm going to Europe. The entire world is at my feet and I cannot wait to see what's in store next.
First of all, I should set some context for those of you who stumble upon here. I am a 23-year-old recent graduate from Valparaiso University. I earned a Bachelor of Arts in English and Humanities. If you try to tell me that it's a useless degree, I will disagree because I have to. And also because it does leave your options open; there are a lot of different directions career-wise that you could go; they just all require some creativity. This is an issue for another day, as I could argue the merits and drawbacks of graduating with an arts degree for ages.
Anyway, I exited university armed with my degree, an internship for Conan O'Brien in Los Angeles, and a semester abroad at the University of Otago in Dunedin New Zealand (for all the exciting details about the best six months of my life, see the sidebar to your right, and click on "IFSA-Butler New Zealand Blog"). And thus I began (along with thousands of my peers in the class of 2013) the tedious process of applying for nearly every job that I was even remotely qualified for (and some that I wasn't).
I received a few offers; one as an English teacher in Beijing, a teacher in Florida, and various dull, marketing and sales positions that I could have been hired for without a college degree. And many, many rejections. However, since all but one rejection was based solely off of my resume, I didn't take most of it too personally.
And then there was one rejection that I DID take personally. A certain company (which shall remain nameless, for the moment...) put me through a string of personality tests and writing samples and phone interviews before finally inviting me to an on-site interview, complete with more personality tests, writing samples, and discussions with various members within the company. The position was as a technical writer for a software company; far from ideal, but at least it was writing and there were some nice benefits and a good paycheck accompanying it. I thought I had it; all the interviews went well, and I know that I am a talented writer. I even went so far as to start looking at apartments in the area and looking into buying a car. I succeeded in really convincing myself that this was what I wanted; the beginnings of a solid career in something and a settled life. I had already done New Zealand and Los Angeles; two amazing opportunities that most people will never experience in their lives. I thought it was time for me to behave and act like a responsible human being.
For better or worse, there was another plan in the cards for me. At the very end of the interview process, I was discarded along with countless other applicants. It came as a huge shock; I was back to square one. The settled life that I had been painting vanished before my eyes, and in a fit of rage, I began applying for jobs all over the world.
But everything happens for a reason. The night before I received the pitying phone call where I was told that the company was "moving forward with other applicants," I had been watching Midnight in Paris and felt a pang of regret that there was no way that I would be doing a tour of Europe (or any other foreign country) anytime in the foreseeable future. Two weeks of freedom from work goes fast in the adult world. I applied for all sorts of jobs, but the ones that ended up biting were from families looking for an educated au pair (basically, a live-in nanny) for their children.
And so it ended up that I accepted a position with a family in Stuttgart, Germany. To the surprise of everyone (including myself), I am forsaking a job in the real world and the beginnings of a career for a sort of sabbatical in Europe.
To be fair, it's not an entirely selfish and irrational move though. One of my potential career aspirations (aside from becoming the next Stephen King or J.K. Rowling, of course...) is to work in International Education and/or a study abroad program so I can help more students to have that same life-changing experience that I was lucky enough to have in New Zealand.
Here's to hoping that Germany offers some of the same benefits! I'm less nervous about this than I was before New Zealand, but I actually think that this may be more challenging in some respects. The language barrier and the lack of a built-in peer group to begin with may make my social life rather absent to begin with at first, but I am looking forward to rising tot he challenge. After all, I'm going to Europe. The entire world is at my feet and I cannot wait to see what's in store next.
Below is my one and only tattoo...apparently it's a self-fulfilling prophecy. Bonus points for whomever knows where the quite comes from...
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