What I love about Germany

As I was reminded by a good childhood friend via facebook last night, I probably should write about the positive aspects of living in Germany as well. And I would be amiss if I did not list them in great detail, as living in the Heimatland, despite the patterns described in yesterday's post, has been an amazing experience so far.

Let me start with one of the absolute advantages of living in Germany:

1. The public transportation system.

I know, I know - I am the first one to bitterly complain about the tardiness of certain ICEs (Germany's version of high speed trains, abbreviation for InterCity Express) or the disruptions to schedules due to constant construction in many urban areas. Be that all as it may, I am nevertheless in awe with the level of connectivity that the German train system, be it the Deutsche Bahn, its local subsidiaires, or independent operators like Metronom here in Lower Saxony, offers. Over the past four months, I have travelled to Jena, Bielefeld, Siegen, Lübeck, and Hamburg (several times actually!), and despite some kinks in the systems (usually aforementioned lateness of ICE trains!), I have loved every minute of it. Of course, the greatest travel is by far an ICE journey that is uninterrupted by changing to other trains, either other ICEs or local connections. I am embarking on such an uninterrupted trip to Munich in a couple of weeks, and I can hardly wait. I always reserve a seat and try to get one with a table, and there is nothing like speeding through the German landscape at high speed, either being lulled into a restorative nap, reading a good book or paper, conversing with fellow travelers, or just simply reflecting on life by staring out of the window, absorbed in musings about the meaning of life and other related things (usually leading to the nap I just mentioned). It is simply fabulous.

2. A bicycle friendly infrastructure

Many of you know my old green Toyota Carolla, which at certain times of my life in the US has served as my closet, my storage room, my library, or (yes, I am embarassed to admit it ) my trash can! Suffice it to say that I could not imagine my life without being enclosed in four doors and tons of steel (or whatever material cars are made of) after living in the suburban area of Washington, DC. I remember fondly the reaction I got from a fellow student when, after my first week in the DC area, in 1999, I declared to her that I would ride my bicycle from home to the university, a mere 3 miles away. Well, after I actually started living there, I understood that "riding my bicycle" is synonymous with "wishing my life to end early." Only recenty, maybe in the past 3-4 years, Washington DC started to create bike paths downtown, but in my humble opinion, cannot hold a candle to what we have here in the Heimatland. Thus, communting only by bicycle was then a far, far away dream, or more like a fantasy!

Not so in the Heimatland. I remembered fondly when I studied in Munich, where I rode m bicycle everywhere, and loving it not just because it was an inexpensive and highly convenient way of getting around (especially after the trains stopped running), but because you stayed in shape. Now, in Lüneburg, this dream or fantasy has become a reality. For a person so dependent on her car just until September of last year, I have had no problem whatsover to not only ride my bicycle pretty much everywhere, but I am relishing in the freedom of not owning a car.

Plus, living in Lüneburg, located in Northern Germany known for its flatness (if that is even a word!), has the added benefit that riding my bicycle does not equate the Tour de France, as riding your bike in my hilly hometown Siegen will make you feel like deserving the yellow jersey everytime you get to your destination!

3. The weekend

Yes, I am perfectly aware that the weekend is a rather global phenomenon rather than an exclusively German event. However, Germans do the weekend really well. To my American friends, have you ever noticed that traffic is often worse on the weekends than the worst during-the-week rush hour, or at least equally bad? Have you also noticed that your weekend calendar is more packed than even your usual busy work week. You rush from one BBQ to the next shopping trip to the next movie theater to the next family event to the next church service to the next mini-league baseball game to the next swim meet to the next whatever? Even a relaxing chat over coffee with a friend at the local Starbucks becomes a rush and item to be checked off your list.

Don't get me wrong; we Germans like to schedule and plan things on the weekends, too, and Saturdays are usually the busiest days in Lüneburg's downtown shopping district. But for some reason, there is a common feeling of restfulness that will settle on you even during the most hectic shopping trips. And Sundays are the most glorious days in Germany. Shops are closed (unless it is a special "verkausoffener Sonntag, " meaning stores are open that day for shopping); families, couples, and friends stroll peacefully through neighborhoods or nature, stopping occasionally for an afternoon treat of coffee/tea and cake; and you can't help but give into the overall feeling of restfulness, tranquility, and general sense of well-being. Gosh, I didn't realize how much I missed that.

4. 30 vacation days and paid maternity leave

Do I need to say more?

Observations abour German Life

As the 4 month anniversary of my return to the Heimatland has passed quietly, I am inspired to share some vignette-style observations about my life among my people so far.

1. Germans to do no like to smile.

Ok, this is a little bit harsh, as a lot of Germans smile regularly, even on a daily basis. My general statement of this nature is based on my average interaction with other Germans (I swear, I have never been more aware of not being of German origin than reentering the country of my citizenship after 13 years!) during mundane activities of daily life, such as the grocery store, the bus stop, the post office, the sidewalk. And based on these interaction, I am realizing that my dazzling smile, displaying my straight (thanks to years of orthodontics!) and unstained (thank God I quit smoking when I did) teeth to my fellow people. More often than not, I am left hanging with my friendly countenance, looking at cold stares, squinted eyes, and maybe, if I am lucky, a quiver of an upper or lower lip, possibly a smirk. What else can a girl ask for?

Now, after this rather critical and possibly cynical view, I would be amiss if I would not mention the many students I work with, who do respond to my smiling, as well as some of the store staff in some of the stores I frequent regularly, such as the veggie and fruit stand 2 minutes from my house.

What can I say? I have, my dear friends, been corrupted by the American public smiling phenomenon and am finding it hard to adjust. Thus, my resolve is to not let the grumpiness get to me, as beneath it are often hearts of gold, courtesy, and kindness, which are great qualities of many Germans, wide and far.

2. The sun does not like Germany.

Seriously, I see the complaints of my Maryland friends, who, after two days of no sunshine, start complaining about the dreariness of grey and cold winter. Hah, you have seen nothing yet!!! Try northern Germany in December... or January.... or February... I swear: the two weeks that +David Conrad May was here over Christmas and New Year's Eve, we saw the sun twice. He left on Sunday, December 6, and after having already been deprived of sunshine for the week prior to his departure, I had to wait for another week to see some golden rays. Finally, last Saturday, the sun shone brightly in my face during my morning run in the cold. It was glorious, and I changed my route around the park several times, so that I could face the sunlight, even though that meant that I had to run up and down that same darn hill several times!

To combat the lack of sunshine, I just started using a light therapy lamp with the lovely name "Melissa." Thus, if you hear me lovingly refer to my new friend Melissa, I am talking about my beautiful lamp. And boy, is she bright! Supposedly, these lights assist with combating the winter blues and make you more energetic. I will keep you posted. So far, day 1 of light therapy, and I can say that I feel pretty good, even motivated enough to write my blog!

3. Forming lines when getting in and out of trains or buses seems a foreign concept in Germany.

Have you ever tried to get off a packed train or bus in a German city? Good luck, and get your boxing gloves out! Otherwise, you will get run over either by overeager and completely self-absorbed teenagers (ok, that might not be typical for Germans, but a developmental side-effect), grumpy elderly men, or inebriated sport fans (yes, Hamburg has two football clubs that play on the weekends, so I get stuck with the fans).

Honestly, this inability to form an organized line or procedure to navigate entering and exiting vehicles of public transportation seems surprising for a people known all over the world for not only embracing organization, but worshipping it. As the Coca-Cole executive C.R. MacNamara (fantastic performance by James Cagney), from Billy Wilder's 1961 classic film One, Two, Three, says: "It's that damned German efficiency." Unfortunately, public behavior around public transportation has not been blessed with this.

Even though these three particular things can grind away at my serenity from time to time, I love being able to ride my bicycle everywhere; the trains and buses are on time - heck, there is even an accurate timetable for every train or bus, and they are pretty darn accurate - and the Northern German sky, when the sun is shining, is as wide and beautiful as you could wish for.

 

2nd Advent in snowy Lüneburg

As I woke up this morning and looked outside my bedroom window, I was excited to see that the snow forecast was on the money! We already had a little bit of snow last Sunday, but it was gone by the morning. I saw a picture of a local park in the next day's news of snow-covered grounds, but I had missed that. On Thursday morning, for the St. Nicolas (St. Nikolaus) Day, the 6th of December, Lüneburg citizens were blessed, or cursed depending on your mode of transportation and length of commute, with snow-covered tress, roofs, streets, and sidewalks, including the bicycle lanes.

But none of that could come close to the snow, which is still falling now, at 9:30 AM on Sunday, December 9. If only there were hills around here that I could ski down! Alas, living in the flattest part of Germany, I should probably have been prepared for that!

I put on multiple layers, ear muffs, a hat, gloves, hiking boots, long underwear, and legwarmers (not necessarily in that order) and ventured outside to capture the beauty of freshly fallen snow in the charming town of Lüneburg. This really makes up for the short days and the long hours of darkness every day, which is not helping the already grumpy attitude of most Germans in this area. Not to sound ungrateful, but having lived in a place where having a conversation with a sales person or fellow shopper that goes beyond grunting a brief "Guten Morgen" or "Schönes Wochenende" is absolutely normal, I sometimes feel like a fish out of water here. Of course, I am generalizing and might come across as slightly bitter (again, remember, daylight lasts only form about 8:45 AM in the morning to 4 PM in the afternoon!). In all honesty, the customer service I experienced in Germany before I moved to the US was even more abysmal than what I have experienced so far, with many places in Munich and Cologne being an exception, as the Bavarian people and he folks from the Rhineland seem to have a sunnier disposition than the people in my hometown and the North of Germany; however, I am grateful that I work with a lot of Americans, because if I would rely on human interactions solely provided by most of my German countrymen and women, I would wither away like a tulip in the first snow!

But I digress... As I said, the wintery beauty almost makes up for all of that! And here is the proof:

Exploring the Neighborhood

Just around the corner from my house, a little woodish area called Kalkberg, the cap rock of a salt dome, is nestled quite conveniently into Lüneburg's landscape. Until 1371, the Kalkberg (lime or gypsum hill) housed Lüneburg's castle, when angry citizens destroyed it due to their disenchantment with its inhabitants who ruled the Principality of Lüneburg-Brunswick from this location. Close by, the old St. Monastery, also no longer in existence, was located. Over the centuries, Lüneburg's population mined the hill for gypsum, a substance used for building construction I believe, causing the hill to shrink from about 80m to todays 56.3 above sea level. Today, the Kalkberg and its surrounding area are a nature reserve and provide charming opportunities for relaxing strolls close to the bustling downtown area.

The views of Lüneburg from its top are quite spectacular. On a sunny and clear day, the city skyline, with the spires of the city's three old churches (St. Johannis, St. Michaelis, and St. Nicolai) and the Wassertumr (water tower) as its highest points, is easliy admired and offers a great reward after climbing a set of stairs leading to the top.

The Charming City of Lüneburg

 

David likes to describe Lüneburg as one roller coaster rideaway from Busch Gardens. He kind of has a point. No matter where you look, there is an old building that will take your breath away. Being over 1000 years old, based on the first entry of Lüneburg in the records, Lüneburg has lost its castle originally built on a smallish kind of hill (the only one os its kind, as the whole region is pretty flat) and attached abbey or cloister. Apparently, the citizens of Lüneburg got upset at the aristocrat living in the castle and tore it down. Why I don't know, since at the point when the tour guide was giving that explanation, I was fleeing from a fellow tour participant whose cigarette fumes were tickling my still recovering sinuses and lungs, and the guide's words got lost in my futile flight, since another tour participant, in whose direction I was fleeing, just lit up one of those pesky little cigs himself.

To get back to my original point about Lüneburg, it is very pretty and very old and fantastic if, like me, you like to be able to walk and bycicle everywhere. The ability to walk everywhere came in very hand as David and I were trying to get re-connected to the world via internet and phone, but that is a story for another time.

Let me take to a typical stroll through Lüneburg with some of its most striking corners. I know I will be adding more detail to these in the months and years to come. Also, David and I did not accomplish to view all these things in a day, not even in two. Despite Lüneburg being a rather smallish town, its old town (almost all of which is a pedestrian zone) is pretty large and surprisngly well-preserved.

 

 



 

Pic. 1: My mom (right) and I (left, with the orange handbag, Go O's!) strolling down Grapengießerstraße. When I go to the city, I almost always take this road. The pedestrian zone begins here. Byciclists are only allowed to ride their bikes between 6 PM and 10 AM.

 

 

Pic. 2: A typical facade of old Lüneburg

 

 

 

 

Pic. 3: The Grapengießerstraße ends in the plaza-like street called Am Sande (translated loosely as "At the sand"), known for its beautiful gables on each house that are so typical for cities in the North of Germany, especially cities that, like Lüneburg, belonged to the old trade organization called "Hanse" (the Hanseatic League). In the background looms the tower of St. Johannis or St. John's church, built in the 14th century, the oldest protestant church in Lüneburg. It is one of the most well-known churches built in the northgerman brick gothic style (norddeutsche Backsteingothik).

 

 

 

Pic. 4: A gorgeous shot of St. John's church tower

 

 

 

Pic.5: Brodstraße leading to the town hall and its big square.

 







Apartment Living German Style: Salzbrückerstr. 11-12

Our new apartment is all we could have hoped for. Its superb location, high ceilings typical for buildings if its time period, and general "Altbau" (old building) charm has made it a super comfortable home for David, Juliet, and myself. My mother Mariana and her partner Karl had already assembled an IKEA bed for us and, most importantly, got a litter box for Juliet, by the time we arrived. Our new place is a typical "2-Zimmer-Wohnung" (2 bedroom apartment), with a bedroom, a living room, a kitchen, and a bathroom, which by the way is humungous!

The house we are living is in an eight-party apartment house. One of the apartments is mostly empty as my landlady and her husband use it when they visit the city. The rest of the apartments are inhabited by students, with the exception of my next-door neighbor, who lives by herself and spends the weekend with her boyfriend in Hamburg.

The house itself is a little atypical for Lüneburg's "Altstadt" (old town) as it was built about 160 years ago, during the "Gründerzeit" (Founder's Era), mid- to late 19th century, marked by economic prosperity. The architecture of the time reflects that as the buildings of that time tend to have multiple stories, high ceilings, and often elaborate facades.

Here are my mother Mariana and I leaving the house; the window on the left is one of our living room windows.

Most old houses in Lüneburg look more like this:

Here are some more pictures from the apartment. I'll post some more later that actually give a better idea of how it looks now:

Me (with Karl) at the dining-room table in the living room. At this point,

it was the only piece of furniture, apart from the bed, that was

in the appartment.

 

  

 The new red sofa with David and Juliet relaxing

 

Juliet has claimed her spot

 

 If you haven't figured out yet who really rules this household,

this picture says it all (Juliet claiming her spot in the bedroom)

 

 

 

Juliet über den Wolken: How to travel with a cat on a plane

After many weeks of preparation, Thursday, September 13, marked the day of our official departure from the U.S., on route via Frankfurt and Hamburg to Lüneburg, my new home for the (at least) next two years. In addition to the two of us, six boxes carefully weighed at max. 50 pounds (with clothes, books, and other essentials for my new life in Germany), one carry-on suitcase, and two personal bags, the probably most precious cargo we were transporting, Juliet, our 11 or 12 year old cat, was being packed up into her new carrier. Resting slightly sedated with Bach's Rescue Remedy (tranquilizers and other chemicals are not recommended for pets traveling on the plane) in the especially for this trip purchased Sherpa Pet Carrier, Juliet was admired by the very friendly check-in staff at BWI. David and were sufficiently equipped with all the knowledge, and some, about how to travel with a cat. Seriously, google "travel with at on airplane" or whatever combination thereof, and I promise you that you can waste away your life!

Anyways, David and I had followed all the suggestions about pet travel. We even took Juliet in her new pet cab to the Mall the weekend prior to our departure, so that she could get used to the motion. In one of our personal items, we had a collapsible water bowl, some food in a Ziploc bag, a portable litter box, litter in a Ziploc bag, and the leash that came with our harness. Honestly, I always thought that putting your cat on a leach is probably one of the more ridiculous things in this world. Well, I stand corrected. We are able to take Juliet out of her pet carrier at BWI and Frankfurt, so that she would not have to be trapped in her carrier the entire duration of our travel, which ended up being a total of about 18 hours door-to-door.

 

Juliet and David relaxing at the BWI Internationl

Terminal

 

 

Cat on a leash!

 

 

 

 

Juliet and her mobile home