This is for New Jersey...

Most of the time between the last post and this one was taken up by class, going out with the international group (most of whom are part of the Erasmus European Exchange Program), and exploring Frankfurt. Therefore, I will ignore it almost completely and share with you instead, a night of brilliance.

March 18th
It doesn't matter where I am, but I have a headache...just leave me alone

St. Patrick's Day is not a holiday; it's a duty. As such, it cannot be ignored no matter where you are or what you have to do the next day. Keeping that in mind, the DIA (language course) kids, spurred on by our "get 'er done" attitude, decided to join us in our annual observance of this day of days.

My celebration began a little after 10PM. Milana and I joined my assigned German buddy (a studetn from Uni-Frankfurt coming to TCNJ in the fall) Georg and a few of his friends at O'Reilly's, a huge Irish bar in downtown Frankfurt.

I cannot describe to you the feelings that came over me as I entered this establishment. Drunken idiots (many of whom were sporting the tell-tale buzz cut of the Marines stationed nearby) wearing stupid hats, novelty glasses, LOUD English, the scent of stale beer, blaring karaoke of "Sweet Caroline", green rugby shirts on every reveler and volume, what volume--I WAS HOME! Nearly knocked over by the Americanity of it all, I simply joined in the fun- it was awesome. I had no idea there were so many Americans still in Frankfurt (which was the headquarters of the American quarter of Western Germany). After a few minutes, Milana looked at me and mouthed "we have GOT to come back here". Indeed.

The rest of the DIA kids arrived around midnight, along with a Californian they had picked up at the Anglo Irish in Sachsenhausen earlier that night. A few Kilkennys and two hours later, we were all feeling no pain. Until now I had joined in the fun but hadn't distinguished myself.

BUT

THEN

(in present tense for effect)

An unassuming young American strides purposefully up to the stage--fire in his eyes, grabs the microphone and yells "THIS IS FOR NEW JERSEY!".

As the first few notes of 'Living on a Prayer' burst forth from the speakers (what can i say?) I lost it. I am proud to say I recruited a few foot soldiers to the Bon Jovi army that night.

I instinctively stood on my chair and sang along (which in retrospect could have been embarrassing), but not so! By the first refrain, the whole bar had joined me whole-heartedly. I'm welling up now just thinking about it. Ireland, the US, and New Jersey came together for four minutes and 10 seconds; it was a supernova of reppin' (reptation?).

Wiped out by my performance, Milana and I headed out a side entrance, avoided the paparazzi and ducked into a waiting cab. I slept through class the next day, but I sure as hell had done my duty.

Foreigners Foreigners everywhere and not a German to meet

March 6th
4:47 PM FDH D10

Let me fill you in on the last few days.

We took the placement test, which was basically a writing assignment about the pros and cons of International student exchange programs. It was pretty simple to understand, unless you misunderstood the word for 'student exchange program' as 'student uprising' as Conor did... Needless to say, between Conor's misreading and my horrible German, all the TCNJ students were placed in the euphemistically named "Group A" (the lower of the 2). Since then, we've had two classes with two different instructors that alternate. Both of them are really nice and great so far.

The subject material is dry but useful, but the best part by far is the group of people we've met so far--Matt from the UK, Ola, Ula, Piotr, & Justyna from Poland, Montse & Nuria from Spain (Catalunia), Irene, Manuela & Stefania from Italy, Margit from Norway, Katariina from Finland, Monika from Lithuania, James from Canada, Kostas from Greece, Manuel from Argentina, Adriano from Brazil and others!

Most of the time out of class we speak in English (not because of us so don't think that!). It's just that most of the kids speak better English than German and prefer it that way, but some don't speak any English. A lot of the time it's a mish-mosh: Milana speaks in Russian to the Poles, I speak in Spanish (sometimes) to the Spaniards, and we all switch between German and English. Bottom line- I end the day with a headache most of the time. We've all started hanging out a lot and formed the basis for some pretty cool friendships.

We also matriculated (one of the many processes the TCNJ equivalent of which is done online) and paid our semester fees. We planned on registering with the Buergeramt (police station) and getting residency permits today, but moderate socialism intervened. There was a public transport strike, so we had to walk to class and the Buergeramt was closed. Now we'll have to get up early and do it tomorrow.. Oh well.

It's been a while...

March 4th
7:52 AM FDH Room D10

Yesterday afternoon we went to Woolworths (yeah I know, it went out of business in the US like twenty years ago, but its alive and kickin here). It's a horrible store. We bought more room stuff there, and later we went to die Zeil (a shopping district) for dinner. I'm getting a little tired of Conor and Andy's taste in cheap meals--Doner and wurst, but thankfully we stopped at a grocery store so now I can at least resort to granola and cereal bars if I can't stomach any more Deutsche Fleisch.

By 7:30 I was absolutely exhausted, and when we got home I went straight to bed. I'm reasonably sure my heat doesn't work or I don't know how to turn it on, so I'm glad I bought a blanket.

This morning I woke up at 2 AM and then again at 6. I ventured into the shared shower to find it, like the rest of the dorm so far, remarkably clean. From the products already there, I gather I'm sharing it with at least one guy (Nivea for men) and a girl (conditioner). These are merely guesses though because I have yet to see anyone on the floor. However, I heard American English being spoken in the hall last night which is exciting. Anyway, after letting the shower run for a few minutes, it was still ice cold, so I took my second excruciatingly cold shower this weekend. Cold as it was, the shower was clean and nice so I really can't complain.

Today is the day of the placement test for my immersion language course (AHH!).



Retrospective comments:

Cereal has, as at TCNJ, become my life here
The "american english" was actually canadian english--what a let down [and for future reference they get really mad when you call the way they talk 'american english']
I learned how to use both the heating system in my room and the hot water in the shower-YAY!

Letters from the Homeland, Part Zwei

Ladies and gentlemen, Becky and her memories from a recent trip to Deutschland:


"Hallo my ex-roommate that I miss so incredibly much! I hope you’ve obtained a towel by now. For the future, hostel bedsheets suffice if you’re in a bind, although you’re restricted then to showering in the morning so the sheets can air dry before bedtime. Do you miss having a dryer yet?

Also, I actually salivated when you talked about the meat. Germans really do know how to please the carnivore in me. My personal favorite was either the frikadella or the currywurst, depending on my mood. Are you in love with the German ketchup yet? IT HAS CURRY IN IT. The first time I tried it I actually drank some plain when I finished my bratwurst. I wish I had thought to cram a few bottles of that goodness into my luggage before returning to the motherland.

So have you tapped into the convenience of beer at McDonalds yet? Not that that is ever really necessary in Germany since they pretty much have taps at every street corner. Or maybe that was just my skewed impression of that wonderful country. Have you visited any breweries? Want me to send you a case of Keystone? I know you miss shotgunning crappy American beer. Not.

What are your Easter plans? Does the bunny visit German children too?

I hope you’ve made some cool American friends to bond with in your pining for the homeland and some übercool German friends to show you the ropes. I’ll be refreshing your blog over and over till the next post.

Love you looooong time!

-Rooms "

Friedrich Dassauer Haus of Blues

March 3
Frankfurt- Friedrich Dessauer Haus- Rm D10

Last night was a lot of fun. First, we met two kids from Tunisia who were absolutely shocked to learn that we knew where Tunisia was and further shocked that we also spoke German--go America! You could tell they expected a lot less from us, and I think we bumped their opinion of Americans up a few pegs. We played a few games of pool and parted ways. Later, we got cheap dinners in Sachsenhausen. I won't say exactly what we ate, but it was shaved off a rotating shank of meat by a man who called me 'pretty American lady' and the boys 'boss'...

After a decidedly unGerman dinner, we continued our rebellion against reality by choosing to patronize the Anglo-Irish, a British-Irish pub in the neighborhood. It was pretty much exactly what you would expect-- middle-aged Irish men at the bar exuding the strange mix of anger and joviality I've come to associate with the Irish, Iro-centric memorabilia on the walls, lewd phrases in the bathrooms, and soccer on the tvs. We told ourselves we would merely stop in here, get our fill of English and move on to German bars, but it didn't happen in the end.

By midnight we were all exhausted, still feeling the jet-lag. So we headed back to the hostel, had a few drinks in the Backpackers' Lounge and headed to bed.

This morning we slept through our 6AM alarm, but woke up at a respectable 7:20. We got ready quickly (having packed the night before), grabbed breakfast in the cafeteria, and checked out.

Having hauled our stuff downstairs, we called 2 cabs and headed across town to Friedrich Dessauer Haus, the Catholic dorm TCNJ had arranged for us to stay in. (At first I found it odd that our God-less public college would choose to have a housing arrangement with the Catholic church, but upon seeing the comparative size of other private dorm rooms, I thanked Roscoe with all my heart).


Checking in was a bit of a struggle because the office staff spoke no English (ironically our cabbie spoke it impeccably). However, between slow talking on their part and hand motions on ours, we got it all sorted out. It helped of course that the saintly woman in the office had inexhaustible patience--she definitely wasn't a nun. Not speaking too well was getting annoying, but I was reassured when the woman in the office handed me the list of Haus rules and told me with a smile that in two months I would be able to read it completely.

My room is really nice--clean and bright with a huge window and tons of storage space which I didn't even begin to fill--shopping necessary? I think so.

I feel a little cut off in this dorm, though--your room key opens the stairwell on the ground floor, then the door to your hallway and of course, your room. The result is an apartment building-esque isolation, far removed from the fully explorable dorms of TCNJ. For example, to visit Milana or Conor, who are in my building but different floors, I have to buzz them and be allowed in--weird. Along with that, most students aren't here yet because the semester starts on April 1; those who are here keep their doors closed and are very quiet--quite a change from Decker or Travers Halls and of course from the 24-party palace that is Browning.

The internet here is reasonably quick but a little patchy so far, which I hope is temporary.


Tomorrow is the DIA course (a 3-week, daily language immersion class) placement test. I know there is little reason to be, but I'm nervous that they'll take one look at my test and book me a flight home because my German sucks far too badly. Oh well! Que sera sera.

Ffm obsvs:

Cell phones (Handys) are necessary here
German architecture looks like Ikea designers were set loose on a city
Spartan and sterile design are growing on me, but not too much
Jolly Germans are great, but mean ones are the worst thing ever (a mean German voice automatically triggers horrible fears in me... thanks history and pop culture)
I may need to liven up this dorm singlehandedly

Cleanliness ist in der Nahe von Godliness

Sunday (Sonntag) March 2
Frankfurt: dHdJ: Rm 120
3:55 PM

After visiting campus (with 'Jordan' btw), we had a cheap lunch at a falafel and doner kabab place. For those of you unfamiliar with Doner, I'll try to explain. A middle eastern man literally shaves strips of meat off of rotating shank of mystery meat basted in equally myterious sauce and loads it onto a piece of flat bread with some vegetables, red pepper flakes and "garlic sauce". Needless to say, one shouldn't and wouldn't want to eat this everyday, but these places stay open longer than anything else and are very cheap. I'm not proud to say I have already had more than my share of this intriguing Middle Eastern specialty.


Anyway, on the way back we gave our feet a rest and opted to take the ubahn back to the hostel. Once there, we planned the next day's itinerary. It turned out that the next day would be a long, expensive and likely frustrating day. We had to rise early to catch the free Fruestueck, check out, move into our Studentwohnheim (Frierich Dessauer Haus), pay the deposit and first month's rent (IN CASH?!?), open bank accounts, buy linens, unpack, and prepare ourselves for Thursday, which promised to be just as busy, if not as expensive.


Slightly overwhelmed by the mere prospect of the next day, we decided to take a midday nap/chill session. First, Andy, Conor and I set off to find an ATM (Geldautomat) to stock up on cash for the next day. We found one in the Sachsenhausen neighborhood near our hostel, along with a bar with really cheap drinks--an all-'round success.


Once we got back to the hostel, I, at wit's end with rank nastiness asked to borrow someone's towel. Conor graciously lent me his--hooray! Ten minutes later I was clean and frozen. Apparently the EU 55 we had paid didn't include hot water, but I was still happy just not to smell anymore. I got dressed and caught up on the journal (here we are!).

Tonight, we're hoping to explore the nightlife and get a taste of Frankfurt after dark. My hopes are tempered by the knowledge that they city was very sleepy today and most stores were closed.

Letters from the Homeland

Originally, I planned on using this blog as a way to share my travel journal with family and friends. However, in the past two weeks I have received many wonderful e-mails from family and friends, some so wonderful that i must share them with you. So, now, every so often I will share an excerpt from one of my letters from the homeland from all of you. For my friends who do not know my family, buckle up; for my family who do not know my friends, you're welcome.


Here is the first installment of LftH and the inspiration for this feature. I give you: Katharine and her advice on travels in Europe...


"some tips of the trade that i learned:

-most people don't hate americans, they hate bush. so if you're on the other side of that, you're golden

-if people seem to hate you even if you tell them you hate bush, claim to be canadian. no one cares about them. its like saying you're from luxemberg.

-europeans, at least 5 years ago when i was there, seem to love to play michael jackson (from the early days) and billy joel for americans. make sure you know all these songs or they'll get offended and you'll burst their bubble of american culture.

-as for your earlier mentioned tampon problem, in belgium i had to resort to using OBs (NO APPLICATOR!!!). i think it made me a better, stronger woman. or that's what i kept telling myself anyway.

i think you're doing great!! i'm so proud of you! keep up the blog; i can't wait to see what happens next!!

kath"

This has been Letters from the Homeland.

Unproductive Wanderings

March 2nd
Frankfurt am Main: das Haus der Jugend: Backpackers' Lounge
2:00 PM (14:00)

Our mission today was to buy monatskarte (month tickets for the u-bahn (subway), s-bahn (local trains), strassebahn (trams), and buses) and explore one of the campuses of Goethe Uni Frankfurt. We set off to the tram station near the hostel but discovered that the machines there did not sell monatskarte. So from there, we took an unnecessarily round-about series of trams to the main station where we eventually realized that we couldn't buy monatskarte either, or at least we were pretty sure we couldn't--our German sucks...bad.


Undaunted, we set off on foot for the Bockenheim campus of the university, the largest of the three of four scattered about the city. It was a good twenty minute walk along a tree-lined avenue with views of buildings that would have been impressive to someone who had never been to or seen pictures of Manhattan. Given our background, we were unimpressed.



When we arrived in the campus area we found a typical urban university feel--modern classroom buildings interspersed with sculptures, giant dinosaurs, cafes, and museums. It did lack the natural beauty and cohesive architecture of TCNJ, but it was beautiful in a whole different way. We're all looking forward to seeing what the other campuses (campi?) have to offer, but that is another day.


Ffm Observations:
cool graffiti
lots of museums
surprising amount of ice cream parlours (they dont call them that though, which bums me out because i love that term)
im starting to get the impression that (as I was previously told) everyone here speaks English, but many of them refuse to...conspiracy? anti-americanism? anti-lizism???

Wie sagt man "awkward"?

March 2nd
Frankfurt: Das Haus de Jugend Rm 120 "The Berlin Room"
8:50 AM

I'll start where I last left off- in high spirits but alone in the Backpackers' Lounge. A few hours later at 1:15 my classmates Milana, Andy and Conor, along with Martin (a former TCNJ-Frankfurt exchange student who picked them up from the airport) burst through the doors of das Haus der Jugend in unmistakably American fashion--loud and smiling. I noted that they had 2 or 3 suitcases each and was instantly worried that I had under-packed. Although every website I had consulted and the wise sage Mike Christian had advised me to pack as little as possible, I couldn't help but panic.

The New Jerseyans were all smiles and as happy to get to das Haus der Jugend as I had been. We checked in, paid EU 55.20 each for the two nights accommodation, and found our room on the first floor. Much to my surprise and happiness, the room was immaculate--small but spotless. Having never stayed in a hostel before, I expected torture devices, creepy naked foreign men, or a cockroach at the very least. My Eli Roth fears set aside, I loaded my luggage into the room, and the five of us set off to explore.First, Martin had to move his illegally parked 1979 (probably) VW bus. This first taste of Frankfurt driving was terrifying, even for a Jersey girl. Martin confined his explicatives to English although the German equivalents sound much worse, but I appreciated the gesture. After parking, we set out across the Main to the more modern part of the city, leaving much of Sachsenhausen's quaintness behind us, but not all. Martin showed us the historic Rathaus (city hall), the many museums, and shopping district, all while walking backwards much like a college tour guide. And much like I was on a college tour, I tried to look as cool, mature and unimpressed as possible.

Andy, Conor and Martin tried some Wurst from one of the ubiquitous street vendors, but Milana and I didn't feel quite like mystery meat after a long day of traveling and so decided to delay the shift to the German 'meat diet' for a few more hours. I have never seen so much meat in so many shapes and types, and so, fascinated, I gave in and tried some a few hours later. It was really good and miles away from the American hot dog. The rest of our tour led us around the main stretches, through a street protest about Kurdistan, and strangely enough (and to my indignation) into a McDonald's... I think because someone wanted a beer.

Soon after, Martin went home to catch up some sleep, and the rest of us wandered our way back to the hostel. We passed a few high-end boutiques that caught my eye, but I reminded myself of my budget and moved on--the pinnacle of will power.

Back at the hostel, we sat in the Backpackers' Lounge (with, if you remember, views of the Main) and went over the instructions fellow TCONJer and previous TCNJ-Frankfurt Austauschstudentin Alyssa Conn had left for us. We agreed to tackle as much of the overwhelming list as we could the next day (Sunday) but that most of it would have to wait until Monday because almost everything is geschlossen am Sonntag.

We checked our emails at the evil hostel computer (which ate about 3 EU worth of my coins) to send messages to our parents and, of course, to check facebook. The computer lab/billiards room/library was also full of about half a dozen French kids playing pool. They were loud and a little smelly, but otherwise cool. A little while later, we were approached by a kid from Columbia law school staying in the hostel until his room at the Uni was available. He told us his name but we all forgot it and now its too late to ask again so we all say "Hey Buddy" every time we see him; I think he's starting to notice. We have a hunch it's 'Jordan', but no one's sure enough to chance it.

At this point we were (as I'm sure you are reading this) struggling to stay awake, but we decided to try to tough it out until nightfall. Milana and I went to find a vegetarian dinner for her and a towel for me (yes Mom you were right, I should have brought one). We were not surprisingly unsuccessful on both fronts as shops were already closing at 6 PM. We came back to the room, and everyone except me showered. I know--gross--but I had no options and most of you know I've gone way longer than that without a shower. Conor and Andy tried to go out to a few bars but returned soon after, and we all turned in.

This morning we woke up at about 7:30 and went down to a spartan breakfast in the hostel cafeteria which consisted of shotglasses of OJ, a roll, assorted cheap lunch meat, and thankfully, cereal. We met 'Jordan' there ("good morning, buddy") and agreed to stop by his room before we set out to get our train passes and explore the Uni area.

Now, it's 9:35, and we're all in the room getting ready for our first full day here in damp but bright Frankfurt.

Further Ffm observations"
-the bars look cool
-meat abounds
-Sundays are for sleeping
-I want a towel

Die Ankuft

March 1st
Frankfurt am Main~Das Haus der Jugend: Backpackers' Lounge
11:00 AM

I MADE IT! There were plenty of times when I thought I wouldn't, but I did!

Everything started off well, but these things usually do. I had one overpacked suitcase, a backpack, a laptop, a passport, AND a fortune cookie that told me I was "headed for a land of sunshine". Nothing could stop me.

Crisis #1
It is more difficult to find tampons in the "Anglo-Saxon" wind of the Newark Liberty International Airport than it should be. This is America for God's sake! I finally had to swallow my pride (for the first of many times during this journey I would venture to guess) and ask the elderly Indian man behind the counter of the convenience shop for four "emergency-size" tampon packages from behind the counter. Needless to say, we were both blushing.

My flight was delayed 45 minutes, which was fine with me as I was anticipating a significant period of downtime before I could check in to my hostel in Frankfurt. Having resolved crisis 1, I sat back, read The Golden Compass (an extremely quick read btw) and waited to board.

Crisis #2
The beginning of the flight was largely uneventful and included better than average food, an empty seat next to me (!), and a surprisingly good movie selection (first Michael Clayton, the not so subtle, much-Oscar nominated George Clooney pic Mom would love about a pharmaceutical/chemical company that literally kills people and the less impressive, sappy Daniel Radcliffe vehicle December Boys). After all of that and the fortune cookie's irrefutable prediction of good weather, I was vexed to hear the pilot (pronounced pee-loat) announce that the Flughafen was geschlossen because of the bad wetter. He added that we had enough to fuel to circle for an hour. Uncomfortable as I was to learn that the pilots were calculating our remaining fuel amounts, it soon became clear that the woman on the occupied side of me felt worse. As we circled, she spiraled further into airsickness...

(by the way, a fire engine just went by the hostel and it is SOOO cute, like a Tonka truck! But I digress)

Finally the airport reopened and we landed. Having deplaned at 9:00 (one hour and 45 min late) and having avoided being splattered with sick from Judith from Sayreville (a guess), I headed to the S-Bahn, the local train. At one point I asked an information booth worker "Sprechen Sie Englisch?", and I received what I would soon realize was the typical response--an eye roll and "yes, of course" in perfect English. I avoided clobbering the woman for this rudeness (keep in mind it was about 3AM to my body and I had abstained from caffeine for nearly 24 hours) and got on the S-Bahn. This clean, sunny ride took me to the UBERSTATION (thats not what they call it, but they should-its HUGE). From there I stepped out into the--wait for it--- brilliant SUNSHINE of Frankfurt!!! Hunan Tea Garden, my faith in you is restored.

I hopped on the 16 tram towards Offenbach . This was a great way to travel; it was warm, clean and comfortable and afforded panoramic views of Frankfurt as we wove from the center of the city into the old neighborhoods of Sachsenhausen. A pleasant automated voice announced each stop--it was lovely. Bear this loveliness in mind for comparison to the horrors that follow.

Crisis #3
Detramming, I consulted the Hostel's directions--"walk on Dreieichstrasse toward the river and make a left on Deutschherrnufer Strasse". It didn't seem too difficult... I found Dreieichstrasse easily (a relief because I was at a loss to pronounce it correctly) and walked in the riverly direction. 10 minutes later (I was hauling about 60 lbs in luggage) I was starting to doubt das Haus der Jugend's directions. But then! A sign! As if dHdJ knew I was losing hope-- "Das Haus der Jugend 500 m -->". Awesome! ...Well, I'll never underestimate meters again. Frankfurt seems to be one of those places where no matter where you're going, it's uphill. Some colleges are like that, and I had purposely avoided them in favor of the pleasantly flat TCNJ.

Soon I was losing hope and patience again--no sleep, no coffee, tons of crap to carry, no end in sight. But lo! another sign-- "Das Haus der Jugend 200 m-->". I know what you're thinking, how German to have a sign right when you need it and not before, just perfect. NO! WRONG! This was one of those rare gems of a sign that points nowhere but to two places at the same time. So I gambled. Of course I chose the wrong one and should have known immediately when it was downhill. Don't worry, I paid for it on the way back. Finally, I dragged my luggage and myself back the other way and up the stairs (yeah) of das Haus der Jugend.


Here's the happy bit: I am now at 11 AM Frankfurt time (5 AM body time) drinking coffee in the Haus' cafe, looking out onto the Main River in the sunshine, and waiting for my fellow TCONJers to arrive. It's a good thing. :)

My first impressions of Frankfurt are as follows:
charming but not feminine
a mixture of old and new without clashing and without trying not to clash
a good amount of friendly drunks and vagrants, one of which called me "unhoefflich" (rude) because I didn't respond to his rants
lots of old knobbly trees and a very pretty river


oh and p.s. Dieter is everywhere here!

Introduction

I've been keeping a journal during my time so far in Germany, so I figured I'd just post my journal entries (or slightly modified versions...) a few at a time. If you're reading this I probably miss you very much :) Enjoy!