Two Decades

This past week was my birthday, (I've evaded death for twenty long years!) and I celebrated this weekend with a trip to Stuttgart. I had it all planned out:
I would pre-make some cookie dough for Abele's because Ray has a love affair with chocolate chip cookies and I promised him a couple hundred dozen. I had the dough frozen and ready to go, the only problem was that I had school before my train left. I remembered them up until my walk to the Bahnhof. I refused to walk back because Niklas had promised me for my birthday we would go to the mineral baths again and I was not missing that. Which only made me feel worse when I showed up because Ray is on crutches after a sport injury. Way to be a jerk, Rebecca.

Once I got there (and apologized to Ray profusely) we took off for the spa. Now, I've tossed this around in my head if I should tell you guys this or not and I settled on the fact that I will. It's my time here and this blog is my journal and this experience is definitely noteworthy.
So here goes. I went into the naked portion of the spa. Just keep your pants on, pun intended, I was really scared to go in there too, but trust me, the shock factor wears off quick. Especially because it's a big ego deflation. It's a problem all people have, we assume everyone cares what we're doing, where we're going, and that someone will notice us all the time. Heads up, because it's not true. It's actually simple when you think about it: Everyone else is just worrying about themselves too, ergo it's just a circle of one person to the next assuming everyone is watching them. All in all, I really relaxed there and took in the Dampfluft and feel like I enjoyed a little more of another culture that I couldn't find in the states. So that was Friday.

Saturday Nick had planned a birthday party for me at a local brewery that evening but not before I made them some cookies. That was the majority of my day and I have to admit, even though I'm not a fan of baking, I do enjoy everyone telling me I produced something delicious out of sugar, flour, eggs, and a whooole lotta chocolate.
That evening was really fun too. We went to Sophie's Brauhaus and met up with a few of my mutual German friends and some American ones too. (This was after I realized I forgot a change of clothes along with the cookie dough and had to go shopping for a shirt... See Mom? I buy clothes...When I have to.)

At the bar we were served "meters".This are meter-long boards with fourteen beer in them filled with brew right from the building.

This is a meter. This guy. Right here.

For those of you not really familiar with me, I don't drink a whole lot. Even in Germany. Bars just aren't my place; however, I have to admit I had a spectacular time with my friends that night. I even got school supplies for Tuebingen as a gift from the Germans. Thanks guys!
Sunday is always a lazy day and apart from playing marbles (my team dominated) and eating too many quarkini (donut hole thingys) I didn't do a whole lot. Not even homework.

No Five Dollar Frank

 What lesson did we learn today, Rebecca? Well, dear readers, I would have to say it's a toss-up between You get what you pay for. and What you see is what you get. I'll take your votes later.
 A few weeks ago I mentioned to Elke that I am in need of a hair cut. Like most people, I enjoy cheap things and Elke realizes this and told me that she has a friend who cuts hair and would do a fair job fairly cheap. Needless to say, we set up an appointment. Have I foreshadowed enough for you? 

Today, as we're driving to the place Elke decides that now would be a great time to warn me. Wait, rewind that, Elke...Warn me? About what?
Evidently, the lady is a slob and her studio is in Elkes' words "chaotisch". If you have ever had the pleasure of living with me you would realize that I am a neat freak borderline OCD.
(Just a few examples: "Rebecca, why did you put my glass away again? I wasn't finished!
Rebecca, stop mopping the floor. Go. To. Bed.
Rebecca, you're going to make a great housewife someday"... Love you too, Bobbi.)
But I am getting better and have learned to deal with some things. However, for Elke to say this place was chaotic was a courtesy.

 It was a room squished onto the main house, and upon entering you could only see two chairs and a coffee table with a stack of magazines over a foot high spilling onto the floor because only one light worked in the room. Used towels and empty bottles littered the floor, and while waiting for the woman before me to be finished I counted twenty-two separate shelves piled with half-eaten chocolate bars, dirty brushes, wrappers, bills, half-full coffee mugs...I could continue. That should have been the first red flag...
The woman before me finished, accidentally pushed two pairs of hidden scissors from a pile of papers onto the floor (which stayed on the floor) while retrieving her keys and cell phone and left. When it was my turn, she handed me a book to look at hairstyles. After politely declining, Bitte, nur ein bisschen kuerzer (Just a trim please), I noticed that the book was actually step-by-step instructions for mothers looking to save money and cut their own kids hair.

She started cutting by first parting my hair directly in the middle and free-style snipping at the back. I guess I was too distracted by her stain-filled smock and the fact that I noticed her hands hadn't been washed after rubbing in the gel and conditioner from the woman before me to say anything. She couldn't wash my hair because the sink was full of magazines, hair, and a tv remote. I have a lot of faith in Elke and I am pretty sure she never intents to lead me astray... Unless it would be funny. In this case, I suppose I'll see the humor later, because right now I only realized I paid five euro to look like Paul McCartney from the Beatles debut on the Ed Sullivan show.

Just a Day in the Life

So Niklas was right, (Go ahead and read it again, Nick.) I will probably never fully integrate into my host family like someone staying for an entire year. Two months is just not long enough. After almost six weeks I still get scared when I come home from school because frankly, it's difficult. Not because Elke or Volker are terrible to be around. Quite the opposite, they are very accepting and forgiving of my shoddy German and schedule. The fact of the matter is that I dropped into someone's life with no orientation of their lifestyle nor their language.

Beyond that fact, I have settled into a pretty nice routine here and I can say without hesitation that it is nothing short of great. Every morning I wake up and head up to breakfast that Elke has set out on the table for me because Volker heads to work around five. She greats me with a Morgen ('Morning) and we sit down to our respective coffee and Nutella. After that I head to the bus stop with two other students to school. School goes until around four, after which I head back home. I return my cleaned dishes from lunch and talk with Elke for a minute or two. She always asks how school went and I always stumble through a story of my day. Then it's down to my room for hausaufgaben (homework) until six when Volker comes down to invite me up to dinner. Yeah, he invites. I always have the option to say no. Like I would. Elke cooks something especially for myself and Julian, her son, every night even though her and Volker eat a cold meal. She then lets me take the left-overs for lunch in school. What a stand-up lady.

At night it's always the same, too. Das Perfekte Dinner, a sweet German reality show about cooking, and sometimes Volker pulls out some chocolates from somewhere. We kind of watch television and chat until I get tired and go to bed.
So no, I probabaly won't ever be a real part of the family. But I'm certainly not doing too shabby either.

Home is Where I Sleep

The question is often posed to me if I am homesick. While I believe the normal-people answer should be yes, I can not honestly say I've experienced the disease of missing ones home. Even as a little kid I never whined it up over going home early at a slumber party. You know, because going over to someones house to get hopped up on sugar and play Goldeneye on the N-64 would make any eight-year-old cry...
There are certain aspects of Michigan that I miss, but the problem lies not in them being nonexistent here, but rather their rarity.

Of the best examples I can give to you would be singing. Yes singing. Stop laughing and keep reading. Not many people know this but I love to sing in the car. Well, I guess consider yourself lucky if you didn't know that. I never said I was good at singing... Just something about rocking out to some Pearl Jam, or if I'm feeling really girly, Alanis Morissette, while cruising around is relaxing.

It becomes more complicated if you understand my time en route here. In Germany everyone takes public transportation. Everyone. Everywhere. If not public, then at the very least carpooling with someone else. To get anywhere around Horb I take a bus, to Stuttgart is the train and subway. As much as I would love to leave my mark on Germany; showing up on Youtube as the crazy lady on the U-Bahn tunelessly bellowing Bluetone lyrics is not how I want that to happen.

Home is more of an idea than a place to me but before you all start thinking that I am a soulless being incapable of emotion, I do miss the people back in snowy Michigan. Spoiler alert: I think I'm getting a visit from some of you...

A Few of My Favorite Things

To mark my first month in Germany I decided to pop down a list of particularly awesome/not so exceptional things I have found in Germany.

Let's start with the good things:

Windows: Don't judge. Until you've experienced the German way of securing your home, you'll never understand. The windows can open like doors or like windows. This allows you to have a slight breeze when you want, or easily wash the window, or it can come in handy when evading unwanted guests. But they are nearly seventeen hundred times more secure than ours in the states. There's no air leaks, they're insolated to the max, the shades are built in and made of metal sheets that compress on one another to allow as little or as much light as you want.  How is this even possible?!? With my power of deduction I've still only surmised that German engineering is far superior to any other. I am not even going to start on the doors...

Beds: This is another one you wouldn't expect but let's give me the benefit of the doubt that I'm not completely insane. The best part of the beds are the blankets. Everyone sleeping in the bed (I've been told it's just usually two people, but who am I to judge?) gets their own blanket! It seems like a simple idea but consider this all you couples in the states sleeping under one blanket.

How often do you fight for the covers? Do you sleep with a blanket hog? In the summer is it just too darn warm? Problem solved. Better yet the blankets are like a sleeping bag, that depending on the season you can switch out the contents. In the winter, stick in the thick padding. Summer, just a sheet or any variation in between. Couples here always get a good nights sleep.

People: Of course there are a few I have in mind, but really this goes out to all you Germans. They are so clean and orderly. It's a little like heaven for me here. Every Saturday they sweep their sidewalks. Why? No idea. Apparently it's just a thing they do because since their houses are already spotless they decide take it to the streets. Never has there been a more interestingly hard working people. They have a saying: "Schaffe, schaffe, Häusle baue" which translates into "quick quick build a house." I've heard it quoted a few times now.

Walker, Texas Ranger: Germany has it. I'm watching it.

The Not So Great Things:

Water: Point number one is that water fountains don't exist here. You could die of thirst in the middle of Munich's English gardens. The sad thing is, Germany is one of those countries that people vacation in where the tap water is actually good to drink. Which brings me to my next point. The tap water is good to drink, they will serve it to you in a restaurant but you will still pay for it. That's a way to make money off of your patrons. Because you know you'll pay for it because you're dying of thirst with not a water fountain in sight. Vicious cycle.

Toilets: So you've got a drink and everything is peachy. Until you have to make some water of your own. Shouldn't be a problem, since you've already learn how to use a toilet (reoccurring theme?). Just walk into the nearest department store and find the bathroom, right? Dead wrong! Unless you're willing to part with at least fifty cents each time you  find a bathroom, you're out of luck. If there's not a gate you're charged at to get to the restrooms, there is a very menacing Klofrau. (Read as: Generally angry older woman who hawks the bathroom for money and occasionally cleans the place.) Personally, I'm terrified of die Klofrau. Or as a much more likely reason is that I'm cheap.

Language skills: I wasn't sure whether to put this down as a pro or con. The better my German gets the worse my English becomes. Take the word English right there for example. It took me three tries to type that correctly because my German brain is starting to take over. Englisch auf Deutsch, but English in, well you know, English. It's becoming more common. 

I'm sure there are more positives but right now I can't think of them, so tough cookies. Actually no, because those don't exist in Germany either. What a weird country.