From the Beginning

This page is here so you can read my Au Pair/American in Europe story chronologically.

--Ellbow

Friday, August 31, 2012

This Scheisse Is Getting Real

While I still haven't made up my mind about what family I'm going to adopt on my way to backpacking around Ireland, I'm definitely tripping down the road. I've been offered a position with a pretty fantastic German family, and I'm just waiting it out now until I'm sure I can't find an Irish family I mesh with as well. And while that's pretty cool and all, it's also making all of my decisions real. The decision to postpone grad school for a year, the decision to graduate with a double major, the decision to write a thesis, the decision to follow every college cliche and escape to Europe post expensive higher education escapades. It can easily become overwhelming when I think of all the decisions I make by signing a simple au pair contract.

Ireland or Germany, it's nine months living in Europe. Hopefully dreams and planning can help me make up my mind.

Gute Nacht!
Ellbow

Monday, September 24, 2012

Any Recommendation?

Hello World,

It seems that I am moving to Europe. I'm one lawyer and four signatures away from signing a contract with a family and moving to the Old World for 9 months after graduation! And while this is exactly the opportunity I was looking for, the possibilities are blowing my mind. I thought it would take me a decade to get to Europe again, and even then it would be on vacation, but now I get to live there and work and travel and make European friends that I'll keep for a life time!

I've started looking at the cost of travel, but I need to know where to go and when! I'm thinking Fez for a week at some point, but other than that I'm at a loss. Any favorite sites, restaurants, concert venues, walks/hikes or weekend spots in Europe and northern Africa I need to see? PLEASE, leave me a comment so I can check them out!

The gate to Fez

Friday, October 5, 2012

Boots!

I'm getting that boot envy, or really clothes envy that comes at the beginning of every school year when I let my parents believe that I really don't need any more clothes and then get to school and realize oh shit, yeah I do.

Need of course is a relative term, used here to say that I get too many fashion magazines from my delta sky miles which convince me an over flowing closet is a healthy one. Being someone with three drawers and maybe 50 hangers worth of clothes I have more than I strictly speaking need. But I want them you know.

The pattern always starts with the practical things. When moving to a village in Germany with an average temperature of freezing for three months of the year one must acquire suitable warm clothing that is easy to pack and wash and still makes you presentable. Enter Under Armor.

But skin tight athletic ColdGear is not really the most fashionable thing to wear. I've got a few dresses to class up the leggings, but really I need some accessories to me from turning into that-crazy-girl-who-has-two-layers-of-skin-that-are-different-colors in my village. Enter Modcloth.

And then, predictably, things get out of hand. First there's nordstrom scanning, and then looking at anthropologie and in a manner of minutes I'm drooling over $300 boots. I suppose if I don't want to actually move to Europe I could just spend the money I've saved on clothing I'd be scared to wear for fear of ruining it.

 

$2500 later I'd have an awesome new wardrobe, but zero prospects for directly after college...

Sunday, October 7, 2012

The Sillyness!

Shortly after writing that last post I realized how silly I was to be looking a wool coats and sweaters and scarfs and socks when I'm going to IRELAND. Perhaps this should pacify me in my shopping fervor. Perhaps not.

Wednesday, October 17, 2012

The Packing List

I've been kind of ridiculous lately with my trip planning. But as today is the 8 month marker until graduation, I gave myself a little break from studying and really delved into planning. What did I do you ask? I made a packing list. Yes, I know it's early. But I am nothing if not prepared. This list I've made has more items than I really want to attempt to stuff into Don Quixote (my backpacking backpack), which is what I'll be using while traveling. But on the other hand I have to live for 9 months, beginning in the summer, and ending in March, in a town that will be hovering around 0 degrees Celsius for three of the eight months I will be there. My hope is to send things home with my parents when they visit in September and after Christmas, and to ship the things I've accumulated back home in the days before I leave my host family and venture out with only a visa and rail pass to direct me.

Being a woman, it seems like I've put far too much thought into my clothing in terms of fashion. While 2 (maybe 3) bottoms and 3 tops, and one dress seems excessive in terms of weight, I'm actually a little worried about only having 7 outfit options for three months.

If you care to judge my list, suggest items I've forgotten, or listed that are unnecessary then please leave me a note in the comments! (items with a "*" before hand are only coming to Germany, not all around Europe)

Clothes:

long skirt
running tights
cow neck sweater
blue blouse
2 under shirts
layerable dress (black polka dot) 
warm/waterproof jacket
extra warmth layer
3 pairs underthings
4 pairs socks
hiking boots
paddock boots/walking shoes/dress shoes
hat
gloves
scarf

Additional Clothes:

*pencil skirt
*chacos
*cardigan (grey, adaptive)
*light rain coat
*extra socks
*extra underthings
*sleeping clothes
sundress
*burgundy pants
jeans
*running shorts
*3 tshirts/extra shirts

Personal Items:

camera
computer
iPod
passport
visa
wallet (credit cards, spending money, driver's license, etc.)
phone (European and American)
chargers for electronic items
adapter for chargers
bathroom items (toothbrush, -toothpaste, -sunscreen, mascara, coverup, -soap, hair ties, head bands, hair brush, -wash cloth)
day pack

Survival Items:

2 water bottles (-1 water bottle, 1 travel mug)
-sleeping bag
compass
map
-emergency blanket
-snack foods (energy bars, dried fruit, chocolate)
-flashlight

Additional Items:

*-reading materials
postcards with contact information (for giving out)
-mace


*=coming to Germany but not Ireland
-=buying it in Europe as needed
"Additional" clothes and items may not make it onto the final packing list

Wednesday, November 14, 2012

Songs for the Road

Today I got some camp songs stuck in my head, and I realized that I've been wanting to learn the "Road goes on and on" that they sing in The Fellowship of the Ring. So I went in search of it, and found many versions along the way. Apparently "The Road Goes Ever On and On" is a poem that Tolkien wrote, but didn't include in LOTR. It's been turned into a very sad, dramatic song for LOTR the musical, but I still like it the way Bilbo sings it in the movie, joyfully and like a real walking song. @elisezoot, we have a song to arrange and learn so we never get bored along or around or under the rocky road to Dublin.

Skip to the last 30 seconds of this to hear Bilbo sing it!

Words taken from The Hobbit, and different parts of LOTR

Roads go ever ever on,

Over rock and under tree,

By caves where never sun has shone,

By streams that never find the sea;

Over snow by winter sown,

And through the merry flowers of June,

Over grass and over stone,

And under mountains in the moon.

Roads go ever ever on

Under cloud and under star,

Yet feet that wandering have gone

Turn at last to home afar.

Eyes that fire and sword have seen

And horror in the halls of stone

Look at last on meadows green

And trees and hills they long have known.

The Road goes ever on and on

Down from the door where it began.

Now far ahead the Road has gone,

And I must follow, if I can,

Pursuing it with eager feet,

Until it joins some larger way

Where many paths and errands meet.

And whither then? I cannot say.

The Road goes ever on and on

Out from the door where it began.

Now far ahead the Road has gone,

Let others follow it who can!

Let them a journey new begin,

But I at last with weary feet

Will turn towards the lighted inn,

My evening-rest and sleep to meet.

Wednesday, January 9, 2013

Breaking An Agreement

I've had a contract with a family to be their Au Pair over this next summer, fall and winter, and we've reached a point where it's time to break it. I'm a very planful person, I feel uncomfortable not knowing that I have a plan for the next three years, let alone this next summer, but I've reached a critical mass of conflicting expectations with this family of mine. I've found many other families which I am better suited to and I'm happy to be exploring the opportunity of joining a new family again but this time I'm coming in with a list of expectations.

1. Be located in or around Munich (so that I can fall back on close family friends when needed)
2. Have easy access to a large city/a place with books written in English
3. Don't need to share a bathroom with the family
4. The family doesn't smoke
5. No more than 2 children
6. No children younger than 4 (or 3 currently)

A lot of this list has to do with knowing what I'll be happiest living in and what my skill sets are. But it's also about recognizing when you really aren't a good fit with someone and stop forcing it to work. I've lived with people who I love but just am not compatible with. I've tried a couple of relationships with people I like but just don't value, or love but just can't be happy with. It's really difficult to recognize the basic things you need from any relationship. And when you're talking about opportunities and the things you are really excited for it's easy to jump into a contract, or a title, or bed a little too quickly. I was surprised to find how much more I needed from the family I will end up with, but it's made me realize how much I short change myself on a regular basis because I'm just too excited to stop and think.

And to my good friend out there, who I love, and who's pretty heart broken right now: we like what we know and what's comfortable. We love without reason or caring. And while the song was right, and breaking up is hard to do, staying in a relationship when you can't make the other person happy is the third worst kind of relationship to be in. I'm not going to push you in any way, to make any kind of decision or take any kind of action. You need to get over this in the way you choose, but as soon as you know what you need, just ask and I'll be there in a heartbeat.

I'm pretty sure you don't even know about this but I needed to put it out there someway.

Tuesday, February 12, 2013

The Anticipation of Nostalgia

I made the mistake of using my break today to watch the final episode of Gilmore Girls. 45 minutes of crying later... I'm finally realizing how hard leaving and graduating and actually growing up is going to be. I'm 95% sure that I've found my Au Pair family, and with my #1 choice of grad school application complete I'm hoping for a 14 month timeline. That is, if I get into my top choice I'll be with this family for 12 months and traveling for 2 months after that before moving to New York. It's exhilarating and happy and absolutely terrifying. The fear comes in waves, like psychological nausea: I'm going to move across the world, live with people who I've never met, travel to places I haven't even seen pictures of, I'm not going to see my parents in person for 14 months, I won't know anyone where I'm going, I don't really speak the language, I'm going to miss Christmas and birthdays and 2 Fourth of July's.

I haven't been able to make my brain wrap around the idea of applying for graduation yet. Staving off senioritis and all. But I have to plan for Germany and Canada and the next year now, it's unavoidable and incredibly painful.

I know that it will be better and more difficult than I can possibly imagine. Logic tells me that the memories will be divine. But my innate humanness--the part of me that always yearns for home and wants things to stay the same because change is scary--she's mourning saying goodbye to the people I love for so long. And so I sit here and watch Rory Gilmore graduate, get a job and leave and I can't help but cry in anticipation of the things I will one day leave behind.

It's quite a large cliff to jump off of. You know?

Wednesday, February 27, 2013

One Hundered and Elvensies

Today is day 111 until graduation. I'm looking at plane tickets, scheduling flights, planning out Canada, and then getting back to all the work I have to do in the next 111 days.

Let the countdown commence.

Things coming soon:
Shopping
International Credit Cards
Picking an Au Pair family you can stick with
The Contract process
Visas and travel
12 trips in 12 months
Packing for 12 months in 1 bag

For now:

Thursday, March 14, 2013

Side Trips

Okay, I've purchased my tickets, my contracts are being sent on Monday, and my top grad school application is complete! Which means of course that it's time to ignore my school commitments and write a blog post about potential side trips for my stay in Germany.

I've been working out the calculations and there are two factors really determining how much travel I'll get to do while I'm working: the time I get off (2 days/month worked) and funds (roughly $4,117 is going towards England/Ireland travel after I'm done working which leaves only $2,133 for spending money during the first 12 months). And at this point I've lost most of you because I actually have a budget that's got a running calculation of budgeted funds, funds spent, budget remaining and I've also graphed it. Have I mentioned that my dad is a math teacher? It's my hope that I can manage at least 10 side trips for the 12 months I'll be working. 10 awesome weekend side trips that if I coordinate it with my host family will be 2-5 days long.

At this point let me say that I am a crazy control freak who is hyper-organized and planful. If I hadn't been doing research off and on for the last few months I'd be going insane right now. Luckily for my side of the internet I did do my research. I poured over train tables and flight schedules, read and watched more Rick Steve's than I care to admit, went through photo albums to see what I've already done and just don't vividly remember, and every time I've found an interesting picture of a place on tumblr I've added it to a google map. I warned you, I'm a crazy control freak. From all of this information I think I've successfully narrowed down the potential trips to the list below. They come in no particular order, for the most part. And I'd really like your feedback. Whether you know me personally and have a vested interest, or you just really loved one of the cities I mention, please let me know in the comments. You can also check out the google map to see what things specifically I'm planning on seeing in each city and leave a comment if there are great things that I'm missing out on!

• Barcelona, Spain--I'd really like to go to Barcelona during one of the big festivals, but other than that it is my replacement for going to Rome (though I suppose I may go to Rome again). Priorities: (street) art, cathedrals, alcohol... maybe not in that order.
• Brugge, Belgium--My dad went to Brugge without me on my last trip to Europe and it was all he could talk about once we got back. Keep in mind that we went to Paris on this trip, and when we got home he was still saying how sad he was that I hadn't seen all the awesome things in Brugge! I'm not sure what that list entails yet, but I know it comes strongly recommended from the Vatti.
• Stockholm, Sweden--the thing I'm most excited about in Stockholm is the library. And while it's a pretty amazing looking library I'm guessing that this is a 4 day trip with a day for travel each way. It's also an early trip, maybe in August or October because it's just too cold for a Pacific Northwester to handle in the dead of winter.
• Budapest, Hungary--I've never been able to get to Eastern Europe, so cities Buda and Pest here I come (more than a little blindly). I'm hoping that I can contract one of my new friends from Germany into traveling to this one with me as the language barrier, cultural cuisine and my dietary restrictions conflict, a lot.
• Dubrovnik, Croatia--I have friends in Germany who vacation here often and their photos are always amazing! It's right on the coast, easy to get to and a low-stress vacation. I'm hoping I can tag along some time, cutting down on my expenses and getting to see a whole new, gorgeous country that not a lot of Americans get the chance to see. I estimate it to be a 3 day trip.
• Balchik, Bulgaria--I honestly don't remember what's up in Bulgaria, but it's another country and two more stamps in that passport (which brings up the issue: what happens if I fill up my passport before it's time to come back to the states?).
• Kleven' Lake, Ukraine--Looking at pictures this is one of the best nature preserves to visit in the world. I think I actually chose this location based on a Nova show where they were saying that this is the place that is amazing because no one goes there. But it's amazing so you should go, just not too many of you. It's really out of the way and hard to get to (like figure out if I can rent a car in the Ukraine kind of hard to get to), so please let me know if you've heard of it or you think it's worth the trip.
• Berlin, Germany--One of my favorite professors will be working at the Institute for the History of Science in Berlin, and he's officially offered to take me around the institute. Also he has an adorable child so I will exchange baby sitting for site seeing.
• Fez, Morocco--If you have been following the tumblr or reading these posts for awhile then you know that I'm super pumped about Fez. It's a place so different to everything I've ever been exposed to that I feel like I can't not go. If there was ever a color scheme or sense of place that I wanted to instill in my own home it would have to be some mixture of Georgian architecture with Moroccan flares.
• Paris, France--I've been here. It was nice. It was also the last week of my 7 week stay in Europe. My cat died the day before we got there. It was summer and hot and very touristy. And we ultimately just wanted to go home and so we spent time each day laying in our hotel room watching the French duped Le Simpsons*.
• Shetland Islands, U.K.--because ponies. And then because their new advertising campaign is ponies in sweaters.
• Copenhagen, Denmark--I hear Copenhagen is pretty awesome, but I can't remember why. Would someone please tell me why I have a vague recollection of being told that Copenhagen is awesome?
• Jerusalem, Israel--I've spent this last term studying the conflict in Northern Ireland as taught by a Israeli expat. I've toyed and more than toyed with the idea of exploring Judaism. And if you have any religion at all I feel that at some point in your life, you should see Jerusalem. If you want to work in any kind of international politics, you should see Jerusalem. If you want to have an opinion when you read the NYT, you should see Jerusalem. I'd like to see Jerusalem.

At least 4 of these are not going to happen, or at least not while I'm working. Some of them take more time than others. Some of them come with more recommendations too. 



*fun story about Le Simpsons, the episode where Bart gets sent to France and is forced to work as a child laborer and then suddenly starts speaking French. They duped the French in French and put in French subtitles.

New Feature: Music while writing this post!

You Belong To Me, Jason Wade 
I and Love and You, Avett Brothers
Vienna, Billy Joel
Home, Bell from "Beauty and the Beast"

Monday, April 8, 2013

Update!

Contracts: signed and being mailed today
Tickets: purchased, printed and (not so) safely in my mother's hands
Grad School: admitted, tuition deposit paid, waiting to hear about deferral and scholarships

And with 71 days until graduation, 75 days until Canada, and 83 days until Germany, life is nothing but a pile of thesis.

Back to that overly large paper I suppose.

Music:

Mumford & Sons, "Where Are You Now"
Carrie Fletcher, "When I'm Gone (the cup song)"
Carrie Fletcher and Alex Day, "This Kiss"

Tuesday, April 9, 2013

Talking with my Father

Prepare thyself for the angst of a confused twenty-something blogger who is leaving her best friend:

There was a point in my life when my dad really was my best friend. We lived together, just the two of us. And we spent so much time together in a way that should have made us hate each other, but we didn't. Don't get me wrong, sometimes it was awful. The slowly diminishing voice of my mother that's still stuck in the back of my head says that I called her "all the time in tears because of something terrible he'd done." But that wasn't all the time, it was only when his stress and my stress collided and caused me to feel overwhelmed and in need of escape. I couldn't live with him anymore. But sometimes it's nice to feel like someone you are connected to by blood is your best friend.

Some days we're all tired and worn out and feeling dejected. And so we try to talk ourselves out of it. Or make more tea to suppress it. But really all we need is our best friend to call on the phone. Just to check in. And then to talk to us for 45 minutes because they actually care that much about you and you actually care that much about them. And sometimes those talks make you cry silently, if only because the support you are receiving in such a necessary and unexpected way is making you feel complete for the first time in weeks. This is my dad for me.

Sometimes my mom.

Almost always my dad. He makes me make sense to other people. Heck, he makes me make sense to myself.

I remember one time, during freshman year when all of my friends were new, and they hadn't heard the whole story but they got the jist of the experiences in my life that had shaped me into the person I am. We were driving back down to school after Thanksgiving. I was in the front with my dad driving and everyone had fallen silent and there was some Beatles CD on loud enough to cover up the sound of the road but soft enough that I thought everyone in the back might be asleep. And my dad and I were both humming along to the first track, and then singing along to ourselves with the second, and then harmonizing by the third. It wasn't until the last track on the album that I got a text from the back seat exclaiming our adorableness. That was the first time they really got it. That moment was as important to our friendships as any other, and I can't really explain why without just showing you. Without just me and my dad coexisting in your presence.

So it's particularly scary, in all the mess of things I'm trying to deal with in order to graduate and leave and still go to grad school soon, to realize that I'm going to loose this. I'm going to loose the support and the contact that kick-starts me when I'm drowning. I won't be able to call every time I'm glum. I won't be able to tell him the stories of what I did this weekend, or talk endlessly about work and school and friends. And because I'm loosing those little things, it also means that I'm loosing the bigger things. Visits, trips, vacations, weekends home. He won't be there to introduce to the new friends when they finally realize how weird I am. He makes me make sense. So without him, there seems to be this very big chance that I won't make sense to people. Because until you've heard the whole story and seen that I'm not exaggerating, my brokenness is difficult to understand.

#skype is going to save my mind when I live abroad.

Music:

Diana Ross and Lionel Richie, "Endless Love"
The Beatles, "Fixing a Hole"
Foster the People, "Pumped Up Kicks"

Sunday, May 12, 2013

Lulla-babies

In Germany I'll be an Au Pair to two young kids and I've been trying to plan for that, being thoughtful about what sort of material I need to bring with me for their entertainment and our relationships. So in procrastination of actually working on my thesis I've been looking into lullabies (okay not actually in procrastination, just this weekend while I have a draft being edited and I can't really do work anyways). I always hated the idea of children's music. It's engaging sure, but it's surface engagement. They like the songs about bouncing up and down and that damn frog who went a courtin'. But those songs don't challenge them, don't give them the opportunity to appreciate something real. So in choosing lullabies I want to learn I went looking for songs that are actual songs and just make beautiful songs for the middle of the night when your five-year-old has a nightmare. And after a LONG search, I've found my pick: "I'm Gonna Be" covered by Sleep At Last (thanks Greys Anatomy).

I love this song in real life, and have had so many great moments to the original, and I'm so excited to share it with these kids. It makes a beautiful lullaby and I think it will be a little more comforting and less melancholy a Capella.


In case you're wondering, I also came up with a list before finding this track of potential real songs turned lullaby.

1. "Never Neverland" from the Mary Martin Peter Pan (one of my fave movies as a kid)
2. "Distant Melody" also from Peter Pan and just beautiful
3. "Que Sera Sera" made famous by Dorris Day (something my Granny always sang to me)
4. "Where or When" the Harry Connick Jr. version
5. "You Belong To Me" the Jason Wade version
6. And "Lullaby" which I know from On The Rocks but is a little sad for a five year old.

I'm so excited for my thesis to be done so that I can get this (these) tune(s) down.

41 days until I leave people!

Friday, June 7, 2013

2 weeks

The 2 week countdown has more than begun. It is fully upon us. The fact that it's bringing on severe senioritis and I have a paper due at midnight and some thesis editing to do this weekend is probably not good. But it's here none the less. And amazingly, it gets closer every day.

I got really excited yesterday when I looked up my soon-to-be home town on tumblr. Beautiful pictures below!

Tuesday, June 11, 2013

The 10 Day Countdown

Welcome! My entire life is being turned upside down in the next 10 days. And that's some kind of terrifying. This morning I took my last final of undergrad. With that final step everything accept for graduation and final thesis edits are done for my undergraduate career. (Thank goodness!)

After this I have to finish packing my apartment, graduate, celebrate, and move. To Germany. For a year. But then again you probably new all of this.

Once I leave I'll be trying to post weekly updates on any travel/experiences/happenings that seem relevant. But for now, I'm laying in "bed," a futon mattress that can be transported in a hatchback so it stayed in the apartment after moving part 1, dealing with stress by watching bad TV. And not going to lie, having a little bit of a panic attack. But there are books and kids and passport stamps and posts much more interesting than this in our future: so we breathe through the panic.

Movies and television played during the process of writing that down:

"The Parent Trap" (1998)
"Sex and the City" (2002-2003 season)
"Switched at Birth" (most recent episode)
"Gilmore Girls" (end of season 4)

Hey I finished college, I deserve television.

Wednesday, June 12, 2013

9 Days Left

I took a break today (shocking I know!) and watched the movie "Freedom Writers" with Hilary Swank. It's a teaching movie I've been avoiding for several years now because I worried that it would portray a one-side-of-hopeful perspective. And in a lot of ways it did. But it didn't just have wins, it had losses. And those moments of failure are what made it real. They're also what made me stop the movie several times just to process what I'm getting myself into.

When you work in the lowest income urban public schools you expect the violence and drugs, homelessness and gangs, rape culture, home violence, home abuse and neglection. But I think it's easy to forget how all of that generates fear in every. single. person. in that classroom. It's a culture of war and fear that starts at birth for many and is not contained to schools and is not contained to one race or class or geography. It's wide spread and in many ways ubiquitous in our public school system.

Some of the best teachers, in reality not just in their film portrayals, are those who make their goal as a teacher to break this culture for their students. Not just in the classroom, but as a pattern and a life choice that their students make to no longer participate actively or passively in the war they are living. And to fight against it with peace. As a teacher the freedom to run your classroom that is required to facilitate this type of growth is rarely given. You have to bend some rules, make up new lesson plans and ideas, try things that are not in anyway part of the sanctioned curriculum. I think "Freedom Writers" made a strong portrayal for the resistance you can meet here as a teacher. Swank's character had to fight constantly for control of her classroom with other teachers, school administrators, district administrators and the school board. This resistance is real in many ways for the reasons the film laid out: taking on this goal and accomplishing it means taking risks and actions that are not replicable with any student body, and therefore don't fit the idea of a national education system.

The resistance is rooted in this concept of the greatest good for the greatest number over the greatest amount of time (which, yes is a sustainability concept from Gifford Pinchot, but I'm an Environmental Science major, what do you want from me?). Utilitarianism. Wherein you write off some students so that the majority of students can succeed. You write off some students? You give up on them as individuals? As human beings? As organisms? If even once in my life I had been on the receiving end of that apathy I would have broken completely in two. And that's what a centralized education system tells us to do. Write the curriculum that will teach the greatest number and ignore the 5% that don't understand because they're purely kinesthetic learners and you used verbal and written language to explain the concept.

How can we be this nation, and support a concept like that for our children? How can we be any nation, any identity, any collection of people and passively support a system that doesn't give teachers the freedom to run their own classrooms? But then how can we know that teachers are using their autonomy "correctly"? And what is "correctly"? Do you define it? Do I? Do we? That really was the aspect of the film that I felt was best executed. The Department Head was a well intentioned woman with a modern and well accepted pedagogy standing in the way of something that I feel is morally correct. If I was apathetic to the thing she opposed would it be okay? If I was against the thing she opposed (agreed with her) would it be heroic? And who among us gets to decide the morality of a pedagogy or goal a teacher might hold?

And this is why I'm terrified and positively anxious to be a teacher. I love these questions and the policy debate surrounding them. I love being in the classroom with these students trying to undertake these goals. I know there will be so many obstacles in my way, more than I can ever imagine. But it's exciting to see that kind of path and purpose laid out before you. So scared or not, I think I'm ready.

Too bad (not even) that I have a year in Germany between now and when I start my grad school!

Thursday, June 13, 2013

8 days to go

Tomorrow morning I have a skype date with my family and I'll finally get to meet my boys! I think with these plans I'm starting to move out of the college phase and into the real life thing. If I finish packing my apartment tonight, then I will be 9 items away from being able to move, 8 days until I fly, and 3 days until graduation!

These 10 days are certainly the strangest in the whole process. I have stuff to do: work, errands, the like. But school's over so all I really want to do is watch "Sex and the City" reruns. And yet, it's all going to be over so soon. Thank goodness for short transition periods.

Happy US Open First Day!

Friday, June 14, 2013

One Week Baby!

I skyped with my family this morning. The whole family. Mom, dad, 5 year old, 3.5 year old. And let me tell you, there is nothing like a 5 year old doing a happy dance at the mere idea that you will arrive in 15 days (Canada comes first) to get you excited about a trip. I feel like part of this family already and I've never met them in person or hugged them or shared a story with them. But they are my new family!

I'm still stressed, and busy (anyone want to take care of my cat for a year?), and terrified of leaving. But the prospect of arriving now is so much sweeter. I'm going to live in Germany. With my family. For a year.

Boom-pow-surprise.

Saturday, June 15, 2013

6 Days/21 hours until Graduation Part 1

I'm so nearly done it's amazing. Tomorrow is graduation which I think means I get a camera! Which means original photos that don't come from photo booth can commence! 6 days until Canada and the apartment's nearly packed and it's all nearly over. It all really boggles the mind doesn't it.

Good luck with whatever you're handling in the next 21 hours! I'll see you late tomorrow with photos!

Thursday, June 20, 2013

1.5 days... oh God.

So I graduated, and then slept, and then partied it up, and then moved, and then went to doctors and dentists for stuffs and finally I'm home, busy as all get out with packing, playlist making, preping parents for my departure, and finishing the clothes shopping that I've had to do for the last few weeks (I have no more pants!).

But you have my attention for a moment and in return I give you my favorite photos from graduation.

Friday, June 21, 2013

Graduation Party

Yesterday was my last night in America, so we had a party (well a bon voyage and a graduation party). It was good, low key and fun. Pictures below.

Music:

Home by Edward Sharp & The Magnetic Zeros
Love on Top by Beyonce
Sitting on the Dock of the Bay by Otis Redding
Lover, Lover by Jerrod Niemann

Tuesday, July 9, 2013

Canada!

So Canada happened. One week in a sweet little apartment with my mom, exploring Prince Edward Island and trying my darnedest not to look exactly like Anne of Green Gables. The Island is beautiful and had some wonderful weather. The people took a chapter straight out of their Celtic heritage and were extremely friendly! Even though we never found a place to go exploring my wetlands (bad weather the last two days and extreme exhaustion made it impossible) we had a lot of fun.

We flew into PEI on Saturday, went straight to our apartment and slept. Then food of course. Charlottetown had several great restaurants, but they're all pretty fancy for what we wanted. We ended up in the Old Dublin Pub for dinner. To wrap up the plainest day of vacation ever we went grocery shopping, then home and slept more.

I think we look pretty good for having not slept and been on planes for 24 hours

The second day was a little more exciting. We drove north in the central part of the Island in search of Green Gables stuff. Be forewarned: almost everything on PEI that is touristy is closed on Sundays and Mondays. This includes things like the Green Gables house, though the land is open and museums. Since we couldn't find our way into the attractions we were looking for we spent most of the day hopping from location to location, taking short hikes and talking to the locals (natch).

Mom outside of Green Gables

The cellar and foundation of LM's childhood home in Cavendish

We had a late lunch at a little restaurant east of Cavendish, "Amanda's," which is open seasonally and had opened only the day before. A local had recommended it, and it was the first place we'd seen that wasn't a coffee shop or a nicer restaurant. While this is the kind of atmosphere we wanted (everyone in the place was local not just to PEI but also to that town) I think we paid the price with the quality of the food. One would think that on an island that produces so many potatoes your potato products would always be fresh, but apparently frozen french fries are very popular. I was still behind on sleep at this point so we went home, I slept and we watched the first "Anne of Green Gables" movie that night.

Most everything Anne-oriented is closed Sunday and Monday even during the tourist season (July 1-August 31), so on Monday we tried to go to the east side of the island in hopes of reaching the Myriad View Artisan Distillery which makes moonshine! (thanks tumblr for bringing random PEI attractions to my attention). Along the way we stopped at a historic village which was pretty cool.

The moonshine distillery was definitely the highlight of the east coast, small as it was. I think the idea of moonshine for Americans is just fun.

Mom and the distillery operator

Day 4 everything actually was open so we went back to Green Gables and all of the LM Montgomery museums. If you're attempting to do this I would read a good guide book and choose at most 3 places to go. Everything costs $4 per person and has the same information. We finally ran out of steam and stopped going into places. Learning a little more about the author and walking in the places she used to inspire her books, and probably my favorite heroine of all time was amazing, even though we over did it.

Anne's bedroom recreated in Montgomery's uncle's home a.k.a. "Green Gables"

Lovers Lane. But actually, it's the real Lover's Lane

Day 5, well day 5 was pretty awesome. We had a lazy morning, ate in a very Portland-esque cafe, and around 2 headed over to the local theater to see Anne and Gilbert: the musical. I was a skeptical of going to see a musical of my two favorite characters as anyone, but it was completely worth it. Every actor performed well, the script kept to the books well enough that I wasn't complaining, and the songs are still stuck in my head. Literally, it's been 2.5 weeks and I listened to the soundtrack last night. The more popular play Anne of Green Gables doesn't run until after Canada day, so we completely missed it, but it's place was well held by A&G. Plus, the guy playing Gil isn't half bad looking (I mean seriously, how sweet are they together?).

The last day was just packing airports and flights. Ultimately, it was a great way to spend a last week with my mom before moving 1/3rd of the way around the world.

Tuesday, July 16, 2013

A Start At Au Pairing

My life has quickly become hectic, very strange, and all in German. It's a miraculous thing, how stepping off a plane in a country where you have some basic grasp of the local language means that you converse in that language all of the time. But that's not the point of this post.

I've worked at day camps, school/over-night camps, baby sitting, and have you heard about my clan of 78 family members? But nothing so far in my life has quite been like this. As the youngest child I never had any full time "younger siblings" (with one exception). But in the last 10 days I have had to adjust quite suddenly to living with a 3.5 and a 6 year old. Not to mention living in a new city, country, house, room, culture and language. I thought I had prepared for this with my previous experience with kids. I was kidding myself.

Being an Au Pair is like being some strange combination baby sitter, big sister, parent. So far I've done everything from cause trouble at the dinner table to put a kid in a very harsh time out for repeatedly saying Scheisse. From the moment I stepped off of that plane the expectations were entirely different from any job I've had before. These people feed me, talk to me about their days, watch the evening news and crappy movies with me. But I'm also "on duty" 30 hours a week, alternating between discipline and entertainment with their kids, calling their kids Schatzy. It's all been very crazy.

And for a moment there (daily) I got really really homesick, and was on the verge of tears walking home from the morning Kindergarten drop. And then one week in, Sunday barbeque happened. And the crazy family, the grandma and grandpa who never sit down to eat just keep pushing food on you, the sarcastic exchanges that I was able to understand, and the table of people all trying to get someone's attention, it all made me feel so at home. I think they thought I had cracked when I started laughing. But I was just happy. It all felt... right.

Kidos picking berries and playing in the backyard

Music:
Legally Blonde the musical, the entire soundtrack. Just, omigod you guys.

Tuesday, July 23, 2013

The Technology Problem

I've been here 16 days, which makes this the first day of my third week of work, and already I can see the issue that will create a gap between me and my host "mom": television. I love that my family doesn't watch a lot of tv. I had too much of it as a kid, adolescent and college student. You don't need tv every day. Especially when you're a kid and it's summer. But sometimes your kids slept 7 hours (as opposed to their regular 10.5) last night and then went to school and then played for several hours in the hot sun and now they are exhausted and need to wind down. When you have trained your children that this is when they can watch tv, and then leave them with me, they may end up watching tv in these moment like you trained them to do.

I've been with the boys 9 days, doing at least part of those days on my own, alone with them. Twice I have allowed them to watch tv. Once the kid I had with me was sick, and once today, it was to be a break after eating lunch before we went to pick his brother up from school. 2/9 for a new person in the household is not so bad in my opinion. Especially when you consider that their mom has set them in front of the tv three additional times when I had nothing to do with it. I'm not relying on tv, I'm using it at the right time as a tool. She said no tv on school days, I denied them tv 3 days in a row because it was a school day. She said no tv right before bed, I denied them tv twice because it was already 6:30 and they needed to be in bed by 7:30. I am not relying on tv. But Tina seems to think that I am.

And that's the issue right. You ask me what we did today:

7:10 - Breakfast
7:30 - Papa leaves for work
7:45 - Get dressed, prep things for the day
8:00 - Read a book aloud while the boys play legos and cars
8:30 - Grab stuff and leave for Kindergarten
9:10 - Get back from Kindergarten drop and have a 2.5 hour play date (playing with cars, scooters and sand box) with the neighbors (now 3 kids under 4) which I supervised alone
11:40 - Start making lunch while the kido does a dinosaur art project
12:05 - Eat lunch
12:25 - Choose a movie* and start watching while I clean the kitchen and the rest of the house
           12:50 - I sit down and start watching the movie with him
12:45 - Oma calls and says she wants to take both boys to the See for swimming
1:35 - Movie is over and Oma arrives to pick up the boys

(count it-the movie lasted for 1 hour and 10 minutes of the 7 hours we were together and the 12 hours I was supposed to have them today)

Ask the kids what we did today: we watched a movie with Dinosaurs.

I had a great day with the boys today. They were happy, a little tired after lunch but they don't nap, and very pleasant and well behaved. So yes, I'm sorry, we watched a movie. It's the same length as the two tv shows Tina suggests are better for them to watch. I'm not encouraging tv, or using it as a crutch or anything. I'm stimulating their imaginations and playing with them and not just sitting them in front of the tv. I hope she'll learn to see this in the next month or so. It seems right now like she's expressing her own discomfort at how much tv they normally watch by criticizing me for letting them watch tv at the same or lesser frequency. But that is the burden of the first Au Pair I suppose. To wait out the onset of aware and intentional parenting.

*By the way the movie we watched was Ice Age 3 and we watched it in English and he was laughing at verbal jokes, so... feeling okay about that choice.

Tuesday, July 30, 2013

It's been 1 month since you looked at me, tipped your head to the side and said I'm angry.

Yesterday or today, depending on how you count, is the one month mark in this whole crazy experience-living-in-Germany-why-don't-you thing. And for all the goods and all the bads I'm feeling very lost, a little home sick, and certainly questioning the quality of my decision. Half the time I wake up wishing I could just be at home in Portland reading the 120 books I already have which are squished together under my bed side table, and half the mornings I get out of bed excited to go adventuring with the boys.

One month into this experiment I have to say that the jury's still out on the quality of my decision making:

• The kids are starting to like me, but they don't love me yet.
• I don't love them (yet) either. I'm not protective of them. I compare them mentally to my cousins of the same age, and they always come up short in comparison.
• The three year old is much more open to my presence, and when no parents are home we all get along flawlessly (biting and swearing aside).
• I cannot get the six year old to be interested in Harry Potter so now I'm reading it on my own, in German and feeling very accomplished.
• The diet, though European and in many ways excellent, does not agree with my pre-Germany (Gluten free) dietary expectations. Why do you have to eat three pieces of bread at every single meal?
• I'm exhausted all of the time. Maybe it's the heat or the job or a side effect of the diet, but I'm exhausted.
• The language comes easier now. If only I could get my host family to stop speaking English with me at night.
• I now speak British English. I fail to comprehend how I transitioned from one English language to the other, but there it is.
• I've met people, but made no "friends" yet. And I'm turning into a desperate beast, needing attention and love and having no resources to get that which don't involve an internet connection (i.e. skype, whatsapp, and email with my family--get your mind out of the gutter).
• I met a cute boy, but am having issues connecting with said boy through social media/cellular devices... boo.
• I'm joining a book club(s) which should solidify my identity as the oldest 22 year old of all time.
• The weather is truly beautiful and the general culture completely agrees with my constitution.
• Winter is coming, and I'm pumped for some sweater weather and snow.
• For better or worse, I'm now 10% of the way through my stay with this family. And if I choose, in 9 months I can go straight home.

It will certainly always be safer to choose the known world before the unknown. I could have moved to New York or stayed in Portland, worked in an office or as a nanny, had my gap year, but stayed in a land where people at least speak the same language. And maybe, just maybe I would be happier there. But I have to believe that you can't make a wrong decision (though you can make bad ones) because each decision leads you on a different path. I have to believe that taking this chance, no matter what I feel today, will be one of the better ones in my life and that in 10 years I will look back, proud to have jumped into the unknown.

Music:

"Home" from The Beauty and the Beast soundtrack
"Summer Love" by JT
"Where or When" cover by Harry Connick, Jr.

Wednesday, July 31, 2013

Side Bar: Cat Photos

So there's a website called Written? Kitten! Where you type 100 words into their word processor and it gives you a picture of a cat. Every 100 words. As your motivation to continue writing. I, having no papers (thesis does not count here) to write started just babbling here and I ended up writing this:

"Sometimes I'm going to do something awesome, and it will never be so that you can tell me I'm great or see it for yourself. It will always be about me. And that sucks for you! Not only do I not need your praise. No, no. Far from it. I actually don't want your praise or for you to see me do the amazing things I can do. I want to do these things to prove to myself that the perfect person I have envisioned in my head is possible. There is no unselfish good deed. Joey was right about that. Dude cat photo this is supper distracting from the point I was trying to make. I wonder if we could make one of these with corgy photos or Berner photos, or select a google search kind of thing? That would be the best. Select a tumblr tag, ha! I can see the Freeman/Cumberbatch fan fiction pouring in now and how distracting that would be. The cat with the monkey is bad enough. Though is that a monkey, or is it a teletuby. Yeah... I don't know how to spell that thing. But that looks like a blue version of... oh changed photos to white cats sleeping together. Cute not funny. Also BTW deleting words does not make your photos run backwards. This is too much work for cat photos. Argy i i i i i i i ii  ii i i i i i i i i i i i ii i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i ii i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i cheat the system."

Cat photos for the win.

Tuesday, August 6, 2013

My Aggressive Three Year Old

This week has thoroughly beaten me. And I mean that literally. I have a scratch down my cheek and bite marks on my arm and a bruise on my hip that makes it hurt to walk and bike. I am exhausted and to be honest I'm a little scared of a very little man. Jay is 3 years old, and Jay is extremely aggressive towards me.

There are always going to be problems with kids. I don't think I've ever had a perfect day as a baby sitter, camp staffer or now as an Au Pair. But generally these issues have been limited to excessive crying or moping, and the occasional defiant behavior such as going out of my sight after being asked to stay close. Often these behaviors are just part of kids processing their emotions or their own exhaustion. And in those cases it is easy (though not always intuitive) to remove yourself, let every one cool off and then talk about the issues calmly and constructively, looking for solutions which you and the kid can both handle. They also are normally only a once or twice a day thing, even with a group of children. And never have they been systemic.

I've dealt with the normal amount of these issues with Jay (3) and Lee (6) while I've been here this first month. I draw the line for normal behavior when Jay calls me a "shitty Ellen," (it's Germany they use that word a lot, it's not good, but it's not as bad as it would be in English). But in addition I've also been dealing with consistent violent behavior in both of them. Like any parent (or Au Pair) I've been making excuses for the behavior to myself and others, but with a lot of pushing and support from my parents I'm addressing the issue not only with the children individually but also with the parents.

As a perfectionist and I think as any kind of child-care provider, it's difficult to admit that you are struggling to do your work. Parents also tend to have blinders on with their kids, they prefer to overlook the issues their kids are carrying around with them or any problem behaviors they are exhibiting. These blinders make a difficult conversation even more of a struggle as parents refuse to recognize that a behavior their child is exhibiting is not appropriate or normal, and even worse when the children are not behaving that way towards them or in front of them. I had a lot of fear going into this conversation that I would be getting an earful of "just do this" and "I always do that and it works fine". I had had a lot of issues up to this point of not been able to have either parent hear what I'm saying and understanding that I'm doing what they do, it's not working, I need to take additional steps. So this time I came in prepared with suggestions for how I will be addressing the aggressive and painful behavior from both boys, but particularly Jay.

My hope was that this conversation would be short. That the behavior is similar to a problem a teacher may have had or even an old baby sitter. What ended up happening was a very productive and yet frustrating and stressful conversation that lasted over 2 hours and bore few helpful suggestions. Obviously something is wrong. I was very happy that Tina and Mike were both so supportive of me, and made it clear that they don't see me as the problem in this situation. For the first time they really heard what I was trying to say, and after repeating what I had been doing and which situations were of real concern for me (not the physicality that happens when a joke goes too far or as a result of usual 3 year old behavior, but that which is vicious and meant to hurt me as an over reaction to a small or non-existent trigger). Unfortunately the only next steps we could agree on were changes to my everyday behavior (a lot of which were directed at some personal habits that are very embedded in my personality--i.e. my thinking face is too stern so try not to be deep in thought in front of the kids, or I leave and enter the room silently through out the day but they want me to narrate these actions more for the boys) and are addressing the symptoms of the tantrums not the cause of them.

I hope that these small changes to daily behavior can alleviate some of the pressures that are triggering Jay to act out so violently towards me, but I don't think they are really solving the issue--as yet unknown.

The most difficult part of this conversation with Tina and Mike was the footnote. If things don't change, if I can't care for the kids without putting myself in harms way, then we need to rethink my position in the family. It's a simple truth that not all people are a match. Some personalities just clash and there's nothing to be done about it. If that's the base issue causing this aggression then the solution is to remove myself from the equation.

I'm not ecstatic to be here. But I don't want to go home either. Starting over with a new family or finding a different job would be exhausting after starting to settle in here. But at the end of the day part of this job and part of being a parent is putting the kids first.

Music:

"Home" by Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros
"A Home" by the Dixie Chicks

Thursday, August 8, 2013

Doctor Who IS for Kids

One of the great things about being an Au Pair is that it really teaches you how you want to raise your own kids. That being said. One of the hardest things about being an Au Pair is that it teaches you all the ways you will never treat/behave with your kids and then forces you to act in that personally envisioned irrational way for several months.

I believe in raising kids as the tiny adults they are. Yes, they haven't seen as much as you have, and they often can't express how they feel or what they think. But if you've ever had a simply spoken yet utterly profound conversation with a kid, you realize how fresh a prospective they bring to everything and how they are really just very small adults trying to grow up in our crazy world. I prefer to respect this potential in kids by treating them as adults in everything we do. And a big part of that is not allowing them to be babied by me or the media. What does that mean? I HATE CHILDREN'S MUSIC. With a passion. I HATE it. I listen to "regular" music with kids exclusively--as long as it's clean I can't see any reason children shouldn't hear it. We are listening to Mozart per-natal after all.  I also hate children's television and books that don't have something else going for them. Dr. Seuss rules, so does Toy Story (movies not any other form of that franchise), and C.S. Lewis, Rowling, the Ant and Bee books, Raul Dahl. There are so many great forms of children's literature, for every age that keeps things simple without dumbing anything down or addressing children as if they are incompetent. I tolerate things like The Barrenstein Bears, Cars, and Curious George. But if a piece of media isn't going to respect my kids, why should I respect it.

I think as a result of these strong opinions I have a tendency to push parents' boundaries regarding the maturity of their children. I want to read the first two Harry Potter books with kids starting at 6. I'll read The Magician's Nephew, the (more) complex Dr. Seuss stories and Shel Silverstein by 3. And I'll watch real actor television, and quality productions with kids at ages their parents deem inappropriate. Like today and watching Doctor Who with my 3.5 and 6 year olds. The first few minutes it was a mistake. The computer was open, DW was up ("The Lodger" a funny and monster-free episode) and Jay wanted to just see a few minutes. When we finished the second half of the episode, all three of us together now, they were very excited. I thought that would be it for the day. But they asked for another episode as a reward for cleaning up the (incredibly messy) living room and I caved because it's Doctor Who and these kids want to watch Rory the Racing Car more than Duck Tales (side note: what's up with that?). I spent several minutes searching for another good episode, and finally settled on "The Eleventh Hour" because it has few monster sightings and lots of physical comedy--after starting and they got scared of the giant eye that is the warden I turned it off, and quickly realized that we should have watched "Dinosaurs on a Spaceship" instead. The boys both still liked it, and would have continued to watch it with me, stop and go to explain who the aliens are, that not everything that looks like a monster is a monster, and that in the end the good guys always win. But Tina took Jay away at the moment we saw our first alien (big mistake to not let something scary resolve itself in my opinion) and Lee and I stopped soon after, when he had laughed and we had clearly moved past the fear he was having with any aliens.

I know that a lot of parents would disagree with me about watching something as mature as Doctor Who with young kids. Yes it's scary sometimes--there are even episodes I won't watch alone ("Hide" had me wishing it was an alien repeatedly). So don't watch every episode. As with all media, know what you're putting into your kid before you let them experience it. Yes the plot lines are extremely complex. But when is a challenging word puzzle something bad? If it's keeping your kids from enjoying it, then stop. But if they still enjoy it and neither of you understand, laugh about how it's impossible to understand. I wouldn't trade those childhood experiences of feeling respected and appreciated by my whole family for anything. Almost all of them happened because someone handed me a book, or rented a movie with me, or let me listen to music with social messages when I was just on the verge of being "old enough" to understand. This media challenged me, and made me think critically. Even when it was my first PG13 movie (Men in Black), which you wouldn't consider very advanced; at 7 years old it forced me to understand vulgarity (in both action and language) as a negative trait, and to enjoy temporary suspended disbelief in the face of nightmare-quality plot lines.

I have a feeling I have a talking to coming tonight. Through which, as an Au Pair I'll have to keep my cool and simply apologize. But my kids (those in the future that I will have or adopt) will watch Doctor Who, read interesting books, listen to real music and the radio, and grow up much faster for it. For now I just have to suck it up and raise someone else's kids the way they want them to be raised. It's more exhausting to do it their way than it is just to be high-energy with the kids all the time.

My suggested Doctor Who episodes to watch with kids (5+):
"The End of the World"
"Boom Town"
"The Idiot's Lantern"
"Love and Monsters"
"The Next Doctor"
"Partners in Crime"
"The Lodger"
"Closing Time"
"The Doctor, The Widow and the Wardrobe"
"Dinosaurs on a Spaceship"
"The Power of Three"

Monday, August 19, 2013

Well.. I missed a week

But I had my reasons. Namely: thesising. And to be more precise: penultimate thesising. That's right as of 9:02 am, August 18th I have turned in what should be the last draft of my thesis save for a few copy edits. I did all of the revisions my committee asked for. I did almost all of the revisions I was hoping to make (there's always more to do). And I am fully ready to put undergrad life behind me and become a present humanoid living in Germany. The reward: turning my computer OFF for 3 days. No emails, no blogs, no tumblr, and no no no no just checking one more thing on my thesis. Come the 21st, this baby's being printed and I don't want to see it or think of it for a year after I get that last email saying "printing now!".

Do you think it's a possibility? Probably not. But... I can always dream.

Next week: dive into the 121 book challenge, finish Rosetta Stone before we go on vacation, join a gospel choir, two book clubs, and find a horse to trail ride for the next 9 months! I think I'll have enough on my plate without this 98 page document.

Sunday, August 25, 2013

I'm not the only one dealing with a kid

I was pleased and cracking up to see this clip from Tina Fey on David Letterman talking about how her two year old is trying to kill her and is possibly disturbed. The clip reminded me so much of dealing with violence in my own 3 year old and how funny and a little off-putting that can be.


P.S. Julia Stafford, saw this on the internet before Joanna Goddard wrote about it. Not stealing blog material I swear!

Wednesday, August 28, 2013

2 months in and calling it quits

I'm not a quiter. I hate the feeling and it usually leads to a healthy bout of self loathing. So I'm the person who doesn't even consider leaving a position. Until now. My host mom came to me last Tuesday, two days after finishing my thesis, and said she just wasn't happy and she didn't know what to do. After an hour and a half of crying, serious conversation I was left confused, newly stressed and a little disappointed. For me I was just starting to relax into being with this family full time, keeping them in mind all of the time, and really starting to live a German life style. For them it had been two months of me spending evenings and days off in my room working on something to do with America, and they don't know what to do with that. There were a lot of emotions expressed by Tina that night, emotions I wasn't registering, and it made me consider whether I wanted to be there or not. And so ultimately I decided, I don't want to. And so I'm leaving.

It's a scary thing, jumping off a cliff, having no safety net. Making decisions that take away all plans you had, including things like where you're going to live. And I'm doing this by choice. This is the closest I've ever been to homeless, and even then I can always fly home or hop on a train.

Now for any family or friends out there, I'm not coming home. Not right away at least. My beautiful Oregon will have to wait, at least until Oktoberfest is over. And then, it's nearly anyone's guess. What's magical is that every avenue is open to me, but then again, what's terrifying is that every avenue is open to me.

But we've got a few weeks of security left. One week when the family is on vacation (I'm no longer going with them clearly) and I'll get to spend days being a tourist around Munich. So let me show you where I've been, and when I know, let me tell you where I'm going.

Good night, and good luck. (literally said this on accident to Mike while he was trying to fix the cable box last night)

Ellbow

Monday, September 9, 2013

The Costs and Bennefits of Giving Notice

For me, deciding to leave was the end to a week of stress, self-doubt and tea. Having gone over and over what Tina had said to me about her doubts in my relationship with the family I was left feeling like the family didn't understand me as an individual and wasn't going to try to. Quitting gave me relief from all of this. 13 more days of being so entirely incomprehensible to the people I live with? Fine, I can handle that.

However I think my decision threw them for a loop. We decided on an end date nearly 4 weeks out. The first few days everything was the same. The boys didn't know yet so we definitely played it cool all day. And at night we all had things to do which kept us preoccupied. Then they left for a week of vacation. On coming back all of their behaviors changed, and not all for the better.

The boys know I'm leaving now (they were told without me and without warning me), and it hasn't changed them so much other than they're sad about it. Two weeks is an eternity when you're 3, but we'll see what it's like when it's 2 days, or a couple of hours.

Tina is really excited for this new opportunity, and seems more comfortable having me here when my length of stay is more akin to a guest than a family member. But she's also become much less obliging and eager to participate in my current life, and more willing to make requests of me (FINALLY). She no longer wants to go with me to the visa office. I'm taking the bus there today, by myself without warning her, though she had previously insisted she would drive me (also they were going to pay the 100 Euros for the visa and now I am. It's fine, but another behavior change). With regards to the cell phone and health insurance she's also standoffish even when I ask explicitly for her help.

Mike, in contrast to all, has become rather distant and terse. It's a professional relationship with him now, not friendly at all, but it makes the breakfast table a little awkward.

For my part I'm doing my best to be consistent with everyone. From the beginning I avoided having a "honeymoon phase" but tried to be honest about what my behavior would be like, who I am, and how my personality works in this family. I'm glad for that now, though at the beginning I could feel Tina waiting for the other shoe to drop, like if I would stop making my bed, or keeping stuff clean, or picking up after the boys, or reading bed time stories. I haven't stopped yet and I'm not planning to in the next few days. To the befuddling of Tina and Mike.

What I'm left wondering is a) what they expected me to do? (I certainly felt like they had pressured me into quitting and just refused to fire me, forcing me to make the call); b) if the behavior changes are a result of me quitting or me leaving?; and c) if they still would have acted this way if it was 7 months from now and I was getting ready to leave as we had planned?

13 days to go. Then travel, a visit from my dad, and a new family.

Wednesday, September 11, 2013

Why Gossip With Your Neighbors Is A Good Thing

I've been in Germany all of 2.5 months, and I just now had my first, non-awkward, open conversation with the neighbors. Until today I tried not to intrude on any of them. But sometimes a nice lady comes to your door because the kids just got picked up (#notagain), and offers you a coffee. A much better prospect than packing my "not going to Belgium" suitcase.

And so we coffeed and chatted. Within 3 minutes the conversation began to center around why I'm leaving. As I feared, my host mother is going around spreading the world that I had issues with the kids, didn't like them because they were so young, and have decided to leave in order to work with a family with older children. Let me state now for the record that that is in my opinion a total and complete falsehood. Though in giving her the benefit of the doubt I'm hoping this is Tina's version of positive spin for her.

For me it's hurtful and degrading. It makes it sound like this was my idea, that I initiated it, and like I've been miserable for the last 2.5 months. My truth: Tina came to me, she initiated it. I decided to leave because I felt (FEEL) misunderstood and even more than that, I feel that they don't WANT to understand me. And I didn't have a clue what I would be doing at the time I decided to quit. I thought I might go work with horses. That I will be with another family is a result of independent thought, not a reflection of my current situation.

On the bright side I was repeatedly backed up by both neighbors about everything: the parents personality, the kids behavior problems, that they don't need an Au Pair, that they haven't given me a proper chance, that this is both strange and unjust in terms of employer-employee decorum, and that I am not the problem. There's a part of me that feels bad, listening to others talk about my family and adding to that conversation. But there's a part of me that also feels relief. For the third time I have been fully supported by people who are objective partakers in my leaving. I am starting to know more than just believe, that I am not the problem here.

Now gossiping with neighbors is dangerous and can lead to bad blood, so I'm thinking I won't be sharing this blog with Tina and Mike. Ever. But if you're having an issue or feeling admonished or defeated or disrespected, speaking with the neighbors can give you an objective opinion that is not based around social decorum and subjective support, but honest feelings from people who see you live your life every day. Especially when these people are Germans. Germans don't give a damn about hurting your feelings with brutal honesty. Who'd waste their time with that?

Sunday, September 22, 2013

Saying Goodbye

I've never known a kid who's good at saying goodbye when it's for more than a few days. Spending an evening with some cousins and their kids last April I said goodbye to my little first cousin once removed and explained that it would be a long while, a year and a half, before we would see each other again. After just one evening of playing together she chased the cab to the end of the block waving goodbye. She wanted to see me tomorrow.

But maybe that's just practice for us as adults, learning to say goodbye on a regular basis to the people we love, without tears or overwhelming sadness.

I left the boys today. In all likelihood, after a few postcards from travel and an email or two clearing up logistics, I will not ever communicate with them again. Of all the things that suck about this situation: I didn't complete my obligation which drives me crazy, Tina is telling people who were my friends that I left because I didn't like the kids, I was happy and comfortable for two days, I was never given the chance to settle in--the worst thing of all is that I grew to love two boys who are not two kids I'm immediately attracted to, but I worked hard on our relationship and now I will probably never see them again.

I will not be sharing this blog with Tina and Mike or the boys, not directly. But one can always google, so maybe one day they'll find it. If they do, I hope they understand that I didn't walk out that door easily or painlessly. I hope that they understand I made the decision for them as much as for myself. And I hope they see that the reasons they give to everyone else, and likely to themselves, for my leaving are false. I hope. But I don't believe.

Belgium tomorrow.

Ellbow

Monday, September 23, 2013

That Time I Tried to get to Belgium on the Fly

I really hate not having a solid, no loop-hole plan. If you've known me for anything more than 30 seconds, you know this about me. So that time I quit my job, and decided, yeah, I'll go to Belgium for a week by the cheapest means possible, all within a two week period--well, I think I may have gone a little off my rocker.

This morning I was supposed to catch a ride share to Brussels. The driver wanted to meet at Karlsplatz (which if you don't know Munich, is a huge square in town, with busy streets cutting through it, shopping centers, every kind of Munich public transport, and during Oktoberfest it's swamped with tourists). This was bad decision number one. Instead of making sure he knew what I looked like and I knew what he looked like and we had a clear "we're meeting on this corner at this time and I will be wearing this color" plan; I decided that no, I'll fly by the seat of my pants.

So of course I missed my ride. I actually saw him an hour and a half after we were supposed to meet, driving away to the Autobahn on ramp and looking very angry. Understantable.

But then what did I do? Admit defeat? Go back to the family friends who keep me so well fed? Drop my stuff at the train station and go to Oktoberfest? Wouldn't that have been clever.

Nope. I went to the Reisebuero (travel agency) and asked for directions to an internet cafe, which I couldn't find, but spent a good 20 minutes walking the cobbled streets looking for. I bought a charger for my new cell phone. Which was not the ideal kind of charger, and is also redundant, since I forgot that I brought my American cell phone and charger with and they are packed and perfectly functional in my rucksack. I went and sat in another internet cafe for an hour trying to find another ride for today. But nothing was free and the man who I called three times in a row had to explain to me three times that his car was full. And then I carried my thoroughly beaten butt home (slowly). Listened to funk music (while the guy standing behind me on the S-Bahn kept looking over my shoulder at my song choices). And gave my family friends a good laugh (I mean, I was supposed to be half way to Belgium at that point). Mind you. I did all of this while wearing dress clothes, boots and dragging behind me 45 lbs of clothes, books and camera, all intended for my vacation.

6 hours of waiting and trains and dragging a roller suitcase with one wheel that gets jammed on bumps over cobblestone streets, I'm home and fed and trying to make plans that don't involve me laying on a couch reading instead of visiting a beautiful European city. Hopefully this time with a little more security and experience to back up my choices of transportation and hosts.

Of course there's always that ride to Gent on Wednesday. Yep. I'm totally off my rocker.

Wednesday, September 25, 2013

What Home has Been

In light of being in Germany, sitting on a couch for the morning, instead of Belgium, exploring a new city, let me show you where I've been the last 3 months.

This is a grocery store. A grocery looks like this.

Another apartment building, just beautifully painted

The center square fountain, in front of the Catholic Church

The Catholic church in town is difficult to get a good image of, but this is the bell tower.

My little Fremont Bridge. I went here often to escape as it looked like a miniature piece of home.

The whole bike path is strewn with lamp posts. It had me thinking of Narnia daily.

The river from a boating dock.

My second favorite bridge. It crossed the dam, which also was beautiful.

Lots of people had secondary garden plots up against the river, with little boat houses and docks attached.

Another church in town, I found a crowded bier hall loud with drunken singing here one night.

Thursday, September 26, 2013

My Island

In the week when I was trying to figure out whether I ought to stay or go from my first family I spent a good deal of time walking around the area. I stumbled across an island this way, which was large, gorgeous and practically deserted. Perfect for thinking.

Saturday, September 28, 2013

I May Never Get to Belgium

And certainly never with a carshare program. I thought it was a great idea. But after two failed attempts in one week, the second far worse than the first, I am accepting that the Universe does not want me to go to Belgium, so I will stay here.

What happened:

First the ride was three hours late meeting us at this little podunk train station on the opposite side of Munich from where I'm living. I met up with another mitfahrer (rider) early in the wait and we both called several times before finally getting a response that our driver was having car troubles (he said a flat tire), but we ended up having a very enjoyable drink talking about Albania and Portland during our wait.

Then the driver showed up in this Toyota mini bus which he couldn't turn off because it might not start again (refer to the previous claim that the car troubles were to do with a flat tire). Three hours late we were willing to take the ride in front of us. But after picking up a fourth rider from her house (hello, why did I wait for three hours in a distant suburb if you could have picked me up from my house?!) the driver was clearly exhausted, downing three red bulls in the first hour.

Then the car decided, it didn't want to go to Belgium. Nope it wanted to stop working entirely at 3 am on the Autobahn, in a construction zone in the hills, 13 km away from the nearest city.

We waited two hours for a tow which should have taken us to Frankfurt. But... the driver didn't have any insurance so they couldn't tow us to that particular metropolis.

I've forgotten to mention that this uninsured, exhausted, dangerous driver also continuously lied to us. Not just about the flat tire (a.k.a. motor problems!) but also about distance, who he was talking to on the phone, the route we were taking (I think there are probably still two people waiting to be picked up in Stuttgart, who he told to wait and then decided not to pick up and not to tell them at 1 am).

Maybe worst of all is that this was just a job for him, not a friendly "hey, I'm driving to Belgium why don't you come with me?" but a guy who bought a dying car 10 days previously and was using it to caravan people for a 300% mark up on the gas.

From Karlsruhe, where we eventually landed at about 6:30 this morning, I took a train home. I was done. The Universe doesn't want me to go to Belgium, and it must have a reason. I do wish I could see Bruges though.

Tuesday, October 1, 2013

What Living in Europe Feels Like

Following my rejection from Teach for America I developed a defensive mechanism: I don't think about what I've left behind, or where I am or where I'm going. At least not too much. I try to just make simple plans and live my life, and deal with the issue right in front of me. In terms of leaving my life behind, having a bad experience with my first family, and missing my ride to Belgium, this works really well. Unfortunately it also dulls my awe and respect for living in beautiful Bavaria.

But sometimes I'm standing on a train platform, or running away from a thunder storm, or reflexively answering a question in German and the reality of my position becomes abundantly apparent. I'm overcome with this feeling of jubilation and elation. The way you feel when John Williams has been timed perfectly to the emotion of a film. All of the sudden I am completely aware of being in Europe, of living here, of being a German. I don't feel like a tourist, or like I'm just letting my life pass me by. I feel in those brief moments, great. And not in the common sense of the word, but in the Charlemagne, Helen of Troy, Jed Bartlett way. The Kings of Old way. I feel large and powerful and beautiful and clever and unique and perfect. I feel like the best version of myself and I doubt nothing. Then the last few notes of King of Anything or Chip on my Shoulder or Defying Gravity fade and the moment passes. Then I'm an American again, standing like a tourist waiting for a train in a country where we don't speak the language. Walking home at night feels strange again. The angst creeps back in on me. And I wait, for another one of those moments.

This is what it feels like to live in Europe. Or maybe this is just what it feels like to live.

Wednesday, October 2, 2013

Castle Time

I forgot to show you Neuschwanstein! Woops! I went to what is likely the most iconic castle in the world a few weeks ago. This was my second visit, but seeing as it's been 17 years, it seemed reasonable to repeat the experience. The surrounding town is nice, if a little swanky and touristy, so if you want to go play Belle, plan on taking the whole day. The tour is short, and there's not a hell of a lot of detail, so if you happen to speak a language that is not German or English fluently it's worth it to go on the audio tour rather than the guided tour (the audio tour is not offered in German or English because the Universe hates you and assumes you are uninterested in a detailed history of every room). Unfortunately you cannot take pictures inside, so all I have is outside shots, but lovely still.

As seen from well below in town. I may have not seen this for the first 5 minutes we were off the bus until someone pointed it out to me... maybe.

Because it wouldn't be complete without a drawbridge

Waiting for a tour can be surreal, all of the tourists mingle together in the courtyard, lounging around the castle, finally using it the way it was meant to be used.

The inner courtyard

The horrendous view from the balcony

My traveling companions

The whole area is surrounded by wilderness, waterfalls, lakes, mountains, it's crazy

A more famous view of the castle, though my damn lens was just a little too big.

Thursday, October 10, 2013

An American am Boden See

So I moved to lake Konstance this week (a.k.a. Boden See). The family is new (obvs), the weather is cold and grey, the dialect is crazy, and the people are used to Americans.

Now most of the time in Europe I hide my American identity as best I can. If asked I won't lie. But waving an American flag, or telling everyone you're an American right off the bat is generally a bad idea when your federal government is about to default on its debt ceiling and greatly impact the local economy. Yep, bad idea.

Except for yesterday. Yesterday I was picking up my kid at the bus station when a 10 or 11 year old girl walked up to me to ask if her bus had already been by. I had forgotten the word for schedule ("Plannen") so I had to apologize for not speaking very good German, and when I explained that I came from the U.S.A. her whole demeanor changed. She got that really wide-eyed awe look that only children can pull off, and said "Oh! I love the U.S.A." and then promptly ran away.

So I guess not everyone hates Americans.

Oktoberfest, Visit from Dad, and the new family soon.

Wednesday, October 23, 2013

Oktoberfest (but the real one)

Coming from Portland, Oregon, the micro-brew capital of the world, I know good beer. We've got "Oktoberfest" which most bars misspell "Octoberfest", and my dad and I go every year to at least one. Of course we look crazy getting drunk in our German finery on the west coast of the States.

Being responsible Germans, everyone takes the S-Bahn to Oktoberfest, which is packed and doesn't run between 3:30 and 5 am, which can get you into trouble if you try an after party and miss the last train.

But you can traverse as many bars or outdoor festivals as you want, even coming from a place well known for beer, nothing can prepare you for the size and drunkenness that is the real Oktoberfest. I was lucky enough to have my dad come visit me for the last week of Oktoberfest, and I ended up there three days in a row. So what's it like?

Fun.

Well it's the size of about 3 state fairs stacked end to end. Split into two primary isles there's the north side with food stands, amusement park rides and several rotating bars (essentially yurts that serve alcohol and rotate like the top of the space needle--if that's not a bad idea for drunk people I don't know what is). And then there's the south side with all of the entrances to the tents. And if you're over 16 that's where you want to be.

The tents are all decorated differently but generally they're the size of airline hangers filled with picnic tables with a large, raised stage in the middle where a band is always playing, switching between ompa music and classic rock (the strangest combination, but this time I was prepared). These tents fill up at 11 am when they open, and stay full until they stop serving at midnight. You have to be seated to get a beer (this is a general rule for Oktoberfest. No walking around getting drunker, just walking around being drunk) so the seats can get pretty competitive. But if you're friendly you can usually get a seat for at least one person in your group. Then everyone gets served and you meet some great Auslanders (foreigners). The tables on the outside of the tent are all reserved, but the tables in the middle are first come, first served until they're full. At which they close the tents to new entrants.

So we use the term "tents" loosely, as they have two stories, bathrooms and hardwood floors.

And that is how I spent my first night at Oktoberfest, all dressed up with no way to get into a tent. You can sit outside at the Biergartens that some of the tents have (but not when it's 2 degrees Celsius). Luckily the next two days were better weather and we went early as to get seats.

We dragged my dad from the airport, home to change and then right to Oktoberfest, he was pretty tired by the end.

Arne had these all day and they drove Birgit (his wife) crazy. That was as hilarious as anything.

So after finally getting seats for us all, meeting some great Germans and foreigners, we drank bier. Lots of bier. It only comes in litters and you don't get a choice of types, you just give the waitress a number and pay. Don't confuse this with your "beer". Nope. Bier.

Unfortunately for me, dirndls are not the most comfortable thing to drink bier and eat salty food in. I ended up at home by 10 pm each night (leaving my dad and our family friend alone to bring great drunk stories home the next morning). It's enough to make a girl want to buy Lederhosen.

Then again, they make you look like this.

That last day my dad was having a LOT of fun

Photos courtesy of Birgit and Arne Franke. Because my camera was too expensive to carry around drunk.

We took this first... but it is technically the end.

Friday, November 8, 2013

Lazy Days

For those family and friends who get nervous when I don't write a blog post or tweet for several days, let me just say I am alive, and oh so lazy. The German word for lazy is faul and is pronounced like "fowl". It really is a perfect word. So after I finish my chore for the day: cleaning the floors; I promise to curl up in bed, download recent photos, and write blog posts.

Ja. Okay. Entschuldigung alle! Nur dass ich so faul bin. Bis gleich.

Saturday, November 9, 2013

Halloween in Germany

Halloween stopped being all that exciting for me when I was 13 and my dad told me I couldn't go trick-or-treating anymore because I was too old. So while my friends went around the neighborhood collecting candy from strangers I started a new tradition: stay at home and watch Mel Brooks' Young Frankenstein with your finger on the pause button, jumping up every 5 minutes to answer the door and hand out candy to appropriately aged children. After 9 years of this I can mouth every joke along with the film. But if there's one kind of comedy that doesn't translate to German it's Mel Brooks' Young Frankenstein. Double entendre directly translated into another language and based around a collection of colloquialisms some how isn't funny.

But despite having my family tradition crumble around me I was determined to bring a little American to this holiday. I'll do Christmas their way, they had it first. But Thanksgiving and Halloween are from North America, post hoc, ergo propter hoc: my deal.

Thankfully American Halloween has somewhat seeped into German culture already (Thanksgiving I'm going to have to build from the ground up).

The kids carve pumpkins every year--we just had to work on the idea that carving pumpkins is something best done on the kitchen floor and pumpkin seeds are for saving, baking and eating.

All the time Prim was carving this one I couldn't stop singing "this is Halloween, this is Halloween" which they apparently play on repeat in Europa Park (the Disney Land of Germany)

I did manage to convince them that in absence of decorations we would have to decorate sugar cookies, which went over remarkably well and which were gone remarkable quickly (I sent half of them home with the friend who came over to decorate with us).

Cookies

More cookies

Favorite cookie. It was delicious.

Costumes are a part of German Halloween already, but they choose their costumes the day before from whatever they can find around. There are decidedly no party stores in Germany, and costume stores? Forget about it! But even the parents got in on the action: a group of the adults dressed up and went to a Scottish bar apparently. At least this was the justification I was given as to why everyone got home so late and was singing "Loch Lomond" in the morning. The one thing markedly absent: skimpy costumes. Everyone I saw was well layered and wearing gloves because it's cold here and they are reasonable people.

There is one thing adorable about German Halloween that I wish Americans would adopt: they don't say "trick or treat". Instead the group of kids or one kid comes up with an original poem or rhyme that says something about their costume and their desire for candy. I didn't understand what they were saying at all, but they did work for their chocolate and it was totally adorable.

The one thing German Halloween is totally missing out on: Halloween movies. They have the Disney channel, they have R.L. Stein, but they don't show Halloween movies even on the telly, even on Halloween. This seems a terrible waste to me, especially as someone has gone through the trouble of properly dubbing Hocus Pocus for German children.

All in all Halloween went by in a fairly normal way. I brought in a little more American to the holiday, then failed to do anything on the actual day and ended up turning off all the lights on the first floor and playing guitar because I didn't understand I was being left at home to hand out candy to groups of rhyming German children.

Tuesday, November 12, 2013

Funny Conversations

My German is getting better. Remarkably so. But every once in awhile there's a false cognate that totally trips me up like "Indianer" which sounds a lot like "Indiana" when said with a proper German accent.

This is how I found out:

M: "I was in New York once, I did a whole trip in... when was it?"
P: "2007. I was in the fourth class."
M: "Right you were doing a report on Indianer and I brought back buffalo meat for the class."
P: "Yep."
Me: "...ummm... I don't think there are buffalo in Indiana."
All the Germans laugh at me.

Nothing like a stupid American to lighten up a dinner party!

Thursday, November 14, 2013

What to do with your family once you've left

If you've read the posts from about 2 months ago you'll know that I had a few really awful weeks with my first family that ultimately ended with me leaving. At the time they said they wouldn't be looking to get another Au Pair and I thought this was a good idea because they certainly didn't need or want me in their family and no one should move across the world to live like that.

But in keeping tabs on them today I discovered that they are seeking another Au Pair. And I have no idea how to react to it. Mainly because I have zero recourse in the matter.

This was a family I worked hard to be a part of, I didn't fit with them, I left and on not so good terms. I have a lot of frustration and concern about their search for a new Au Pair. It's a bit like going through an uncomfortable break up, where no matter how mutual it is, when you meet the person they're dating now you feel an uncontrollable urge to chase them down the street shouting "WARNING!" at the top of your lungs. You've been there, it sucked, you want to inform others that they should not go there unless ready to face x, y, and z.

Ultimately, even if I had a way to comment on their profile or get in touch with their fresh applicants I know it wouldn't do much good. Like the current girl friend who is warned by the ex, most would brush it off as that crazy Au Pair they had before who was just really not a good person and probably unstable. But I wish that I could let them know just the same.

It's a really difficult thing, being an Au Pair. You're not part of the family, but you're there all the time just like an older sibling. You're integral to the functioning of the household (hopefully) and yet totally replaceable. You know this family today, better than anyone, but if you left tomorrow they wouldn't belong to you or exist by your description any longer. It's especially difficult to be an Au Pair when things aren't going so well or you are about to leave, when all of these things are true in the same moment.

Sometimes I wish I had listened to my dad, gone straight to grad school and was busy teaching in a New York public school right this moment. This isn't easy, it's more difficult than I thought it would be. I can only hope that when you're paired with the right family, the end result is worth a year of turmoil.



By the by, if I could add an amendment to Tina and Mike's profile it would go like this:

"I spent 3 months living with the (family name omitted)'s and getting to know all four of them quite well. They are a loud and vivacious bunch who are certainly true to their Bavarian roots. I think the only affects 4 years living in the states had on them is that Mike bakes the family's bread and all have a propensity for Cars. I decided to leave this family, ending my contract early, after Tina told me that I wasn't fitting in well and she didn't think she could live with me. 90% of this I chalk up to a bad match made by all of us. I am a quiet person, though rowdy and playful with kids, I like reading, I need alone time, I take daily walks because my head gets clogged with thoughts, and I enjoy observing and listening at the dinner table more than talking. I am generally emotionally reserved. And the cherry on the cake? I am confident being this person, because this is the true me. Now take that description, flip it on it's head and that's Tina. You can see how this would be a bad fit.

"If you're looking to join this family I would make a few suggestions as to who you are: talkative, with everyone, all the time, day and night; a work in progress as a person--maybe it's your first time away from home, your first time in a foreign country, you don't speak the language, some insecurity that can be a project for you and Tina to bond over; love, love, love really little kids--every single child I met in Germany acts 2-3 years younger than their American equivalent, so if you're used to American independent 6 year olds be prepared for a 4 year old; and finally I would say that this family would work best with someone who is very open about their emotions, happy, smiling and bubbly the vast majority of the time, not at all concerned with crying in front of the whole family, and who displays every emotion readily on their face. If you fit that description you will likely find yourself having the easiest job in the world with this family."

Sunday, November 17, 2013

I'm a Witch Don'tcha Know?

One of the things I've noticed as a huge cultural divide between Germany and America is the traits parents aim to encourage in their kids. Where as I grew up being supported if not pushed in creativity, leadership and ingenuity, German kids are generally not. The school system seems to lean towards more Asian pedagogy: facts and accuracy are more important than participation or effort. Parents also seem to drive kids along a straight and narrow path. And the kids as a result, are often hesitant to break out of this zone.

I see this a lot when I'm helping with homework or studying. When they don't know the answer I give them time and then try to lead them through the logic to the correct answer. A German teacher or parent in the same situation may be more likely to give them the correct answer and revisit it later. In American schools this kind of route learning is frowned upon, or at least it was for me. The point is not to know that 6 times 7 is 42. The point is to know why 6 times 7 is 42 and not yellow or up or Cannis familiarus. Knowing that in this sentence I use "hers" and not "his" isn't as helpful as knowing why. But slipping into these methods and this pedagogy easily frustrates the Germans. In school it's important to know the answer, but not important to know the reasoning, so that's all they care about.

There are also ways that these different characteristics inhibit my daily interactions with the Germans. I'm a nerd. I like fantasy books and sci-fi television. My imagination runs wild when I'm sitting still. I dream and build crazy worlds in my spare time. And my bed time stories always involve a man named George and the curious things that happen to him. So when I forget myself and reason something with gibberish ("we can't go that way, the mud is clearly deep and poisonous and we will inevitably get stuck in it up to our waists while sword fighting ROUS's"), as I am apt to do spontaneously around anyone under the age of 13, the Germans tend to think I'm crazy.*

Through 3 months with a 3 and a 6 year old, and now with a 10 and a 15 year old, I've only managed to get a kid to accept that these are jokes, inventions, things to be played upon and developed using the creative side of our brains once:

The fam had made plans for me to take the 10 year old to a friend's after lunch one day of my first week here. The dad had me drive in the morning and showed me where the friend lived and the best way to get there and back. In the afternoon I was driving along with the boy, Luke, when he suddenly turned to me and asked "how do you know where we're going?" I nearly stumbled over it, explaining about the morning drive before I stopped: "Weil ich eine Hexe bin. Ich weiss alles!" (Because I'm a witch. I know everything!). Luke looked at me a little hesitantly, accepted that I was kidding and I thought that was the end of it. Well, actually what I thought was Damn! Another kid who will never defend the play structure from dragons, or make up a secret language, or invent stories while we go on walks. But then about a week later, sitting at the dinner table I answered a question put to the group about the schedule or some such mundane thing, and the mom asked me how in the world I knew that. Luke piped up before I could, simply saying "Because she's a witch." and we both cleared our plates and left the room giggling.

I don't know if valuing one set of character traits in a population is better than another. I don't know if any country raises better kids than any other. I do know that I value leadership skills (listening, decision making and group/activity facilitation) over passiveness or following. I value creativity in logic or art over the "correct answer" or the "correct way". And I value an open-mindedness and acceptance of a plurality over a straight and narrow path. But I think that part of holding those values is knowing that neither the American nor the German way of raising kids is the right way if only because there is no right way. These kids are who they are, only partially a result of the society they were raised in. I wish they understood my sense of humor a little better. But I here that no one really understands my sense of humor. So I guess the best I can do is try to learn who they are and teach them who I am, and both become a little more pluralist in the process.



*Because this is something new. Americans never think I'm crazy.

Monday, November 18, 2013

Getting SUPER Pumped!

So I'm going to London on Thursday, and despite being miserably ill for the last two days I am incredibly pumped right now. I've never been to London, unless you count a starbucks stop at the Heathrow Airport.

This trip has been a lot of backwards planning. But in the end, even though it hasn't been the best prepared trip, this might be one of the most exciting weekends of my life.

I'm sure there will be 2 to 4 blog posts about it when I get back, but for now I'm signing off for the week with just a few words:

Doctor Who Celebration, Doctor Who 50th in 3-D, couch surfing meet ups, and Les Mis with Carrie Fletcher.

If any one of my college friends is not dying of jealousy right now I don't think they're aware of their own emotions.

Monday, December 2, 2013

London: Days 1 & 2

So this week I went to London! The short version: the city is beautiful, it's the first place other than Portland where I've ever seriously considered living. Walking around the parks, meeting the people, not being mocked for my fandoms. It was loverly. I wasn't sad to leave for the reasons elaborated below, but I also wouldn't say no to a life time in the City of Westminster.

The long version:

I started traveling at 7:20 am and bus, train, taxi, plane, coach, tube, bus, and 12 hours later I finally arrived at the hostel. In terms of travel 12 hours isn't so bad, but considering I that I paid separately for every piece of transportation and I only needed to move one time zone to the left, I wasn't too happy with the schedule. Also it gets dark at 4 in London (what's with that), so my whole trip from getting off the coach to arriving at the hostel was a little unnerving. Do yourself a favor and don't take your first bus trip in London outside of zone 1 in the dark.

The coach ride from Stansted was actually really enjoyable. Even though it was almost two hours of bus ride (longer than the actual flight) we went through the English country side for about an hour and then drove past every major sight to see on our way to Victoria Station. There was an Asian family sitting around me who were pointing out sights with the assist of Google Maps on their iPad (pro tip: such a good idea! It was like a free bus tour of the city.).

The down side was arriving at the nearly empty hostel, hungry, tired and still without money only to have my worst fears confirmed. The bad reviews on hostel world were much more accurate than the good. I stayed at The Monkeys in the Trees hostel which was falling apart, moldy, and while reasonably priced for London, not at all worth the 18L or so I paid for a 6 bed female dorm. Also, being located on bus line west of Hammersmith, it was in not the greatest neighborhood, and really sketch to walk back to after midnight or leave before dawn.

Luckily, the equally miserable other visitors at the hostel were happy to venture out. I spent my first night in the pub around the corner with some Aussie boys, drinking my dinner. (Pro tip: cash machines, or ATMs as I know them, might say "free withdrawls" but they're going to charge you if you're using a credit card like I do. Only take out cash once to avoid unreasonable fees; Pro tip #2: beer is CHEAP, actually alcohol is just cheap, so drink.)

Pretty much sums up the relationship of these two Aussies

Every single night I found myself falling into my bed and going to sleep immediately, regardless of when I got back, which included falling asleep at 8:30 pm on Thursday and waking up at 5 am on Friday. The early wake up was certainly excusable in this case: on day 2 I spent all day out at the ExCel Conference Center for the Doctor Who Celebration! I'm a nerd okay. I did warn you about the fandoms.

From beginning to end, the Celebration was awesome (and chuck full of queing). I was really happy to be there for the 10 Quid my Ebay ticket cost.

All of the Doctors greeted you going in and out of ExCel

We spent the morning queing and at the special effects panel. The director of SFX (or something to that effect) was there telling us about all of the explosions and shooting and bangs that he has to coordinate. Also how he accidentally set David Tennant's hair on fire. Did you know that Matt Smith's Doctor's jumpiness around explosions is actually Matt being scared of the sparks and bangs and falling? And when he jumped through the glass door in Closing Time the pressure used to explode the glass went off a little late and the stunt guy apparently got knocked out by it. That's what you get for only having one take.

They exploded this Dalek on stage and also brought out a Cyberman for a shooting demo. Apparently they have only 6 Daleks or something like that, 3 of which can explode nicely. It was really fun having the guy talk about things they do that are near home-remedy SFX. Like how there are actually people crouched down inside the Daleks who move them around like Flintstones cars.

When they brought out the Cyberman (scary as hell in real life, he was walking around after lunch), they had two volunteers come on stage. This poor kid dressed up in 11 cosplay got up there not knowing what was going to happen and then a Cyberman burst through the wall. You can see both the kid and the host were genuinely terrified of the Cyberman. Even the SFX people didn't want to touch him and kept asking him to turn around, jumping when he moved and trying to keep at a safe distance. But 11 got his revenge, he got to shoot the Cyberman, with Rose's gun from Journey's End no less.

After the SFX show we got qued up for more. No one was able to explain exactly why we were queing or where we were going, but we ended up in the big hall with exhibits, smaller panels and a little shop of course. The sets from the opening part of the 50th were all set up at the entrance. I thought they were classic who or reproductions so I only took one photo, but after seeing the episode I wish I had taken more!

I did just sort of lean over and casually stroke this piece of set though. You know you've gotten too into your fandom when you cannot control your impulse to touch sets and costumes.

The friend I met up with got to laugh at me a lot as we came around the corner and I got unreasonably excited about the dinosaurs. I love Jurassic Park and the idea of petting a Triceratops, even one made of rubber, was just SO exciting.

By and far my favorite part of the day was seeing Bernard Cribbins. He plays Wilf in Doctor Who, was also in Faulty Towers as Mr. Hutchinson, and has done more British comedy than I can recognize. He is a really sweet, little bit dirty, funny as hell man. Really. He spend an hour just telling us stories about everything and everybody. He couldn't praise Davies or Tennant enough. He sang us the first bit of "Whole in the Ground" and talked about his music career. Really, tired as I was, I couldn't help but smile from ear to ear the whole time he was around. Bernard Cribbins, my new favorite actor from Doctor Who.

After Cribbins we had a lot of time to kill so we wandered around the auditorium. There were a lot of costumes and booths and shopping of course (though you had to que to shop which was a little strange). Standing next to these costumes, all of which we weren't allowed to touch of course, was pretty surreal.

Then as the last official part of our day we had two panels: "Regenerations" and "The Eleventh Hour". Regenerations had 3 of the classic Doctors, the same three who did the 5ish Doctors Reboot, who had fun bantering together. They were Doctors 5, 6, and 7 so they all replaced one another and really had a bit of bickering between them. But hearing their stories and banter and seeing clips from their episodes really made me want to watch some classic Who. Unfortunately the auditorium was very warm, we were a bit far away, and I was ready for a nap, so I only took in about half of what they were saying.

Eleventh Hour got the current big-wigs on stage. Having moved during the interlude we were only about 100 feet from the stage, so we just kind of sat there gawking at Matt Smith and Moffit and Coleman and Wilson. This was the one point where I wish I had bought tickets for Sunday as the panel couldn't say anything about the 50th or the Christmas episode so their answers to questions were aggravatingly vague.

After the panel we wandered around a bit more, took some photos of people signing autographs and then took off. The conference had some great potential, and was definitely easy to nerd out to, but fell a little short on content. Also Tennant, Piper, Darville and Gillan weren't there on Friday (or at all as far as I know), which definitely left me feeling a little empty. I would have enjoyed a panel that could actually answer questions but had Darville and Gillan or Tennant and Piper instead of the whole group that just wrapped the Christmas Special and were under a gag order.

But I still left that second day with a nice happy feeling (and throbbing feet)!

Tuesday, December 3, 2013

London Days 3, 4 and 5

Having spent the first two days only traveling through central London at night and primarily by tube I was over joyed to find that London was already well into Christmas-craze the last week of November.

A proper department store, selling some spirit

The main thoroughfare was well lit with huge decorations and even a functional snow globe set up around the fountain at Piccadilly Circus

On day 3 I took a nice walk through Kensington Gardens and Hide Park (angry-fist the repairs on the tube) which led me past several embassies and mansion-ettes that maybe 1% of the world could afford (a sign at the gate to the street told me that photos were not allowed, so you'll have to imagine Daddy Warbucks' mansion on a street between Notting Hill and Buckingham Palace). And then through the gorgeous parks which, being me, made me want to put on a Victorian gown, carry a parasol and had me singing "Thank Heaven for Little Girls".

On the far corner of Hyde Park I finally met up with some Hungarians and went exploring Winter Wonderland, the Christmas market that was trying to be a gussied up Oktoberfest. No but really. Nearly every stand had some Bavarian theme to it.

A talking moose head with Bavarian flags

A poorly labeled Tannenbaum

The Santa trash bin. No. But really.

What they actually were calling "Oktoberfest"

The haunted Christmas house

And the topping on the cake: an animated drunk Bavarian who sang and yelled at you in German

After a disappointing double loop around Winter Wonderland, we never did find the circus or zoo that the signs pointed to, we traipsed farther across London to the British Museum, home of the Rosetta Stone. Had I been in a more energetic mood the museum, crowded as it was, would have been great. As it was I was exhausted, uninterested in reading plaques, and only able to focus on the grandfather clock display and finding the Rosetta Stone.

Then I parted ways with my Hungarians, opting for a more touristy, less informational hop back and forth around the city center. I went to King's Cross...

How much fandom can I fit into one trip???

And then to Buckingham Palace...

And then to Big Ben...

And the London Eye

And then back across town again to watch the Doctor Who 50th. I won't annoy non-Whovians with too much detail, but please let me say: I thought the 50th was perfect, flawless save for the sad fact that Tennant is aging, I loved every moment and was so stressed and concerned for my Doctors, and I couldn't have made done John Hurt's Doctor better if I had made him my life's work. I just wish Billy had been there as Rose just a bit. Okay, moving on.

On day 4 I continued to not sleep and have no energy so I decided to take the day to go up to more touristy places like 221B Baker Street, home of Sherlock Holmes (where my camera battery promptly died; angry-fist the effects of cold on battery life)...

And then up to Notting Hill and along Portobello Road for a long afternoon of post card writing from a cafe. While up on Notting Hill (pro tip: the market is WAY better on Saturday and you just end up around tourists on Sunday) I went into a random bookshop that looked interesting. The layout seemed really familiar, like I'd seen it in a film or something. I went in looking for detailed travel books about Ireland and a copy of "The Dinosaur Who Pooped Christmas" but couldn't find what I was looking for. The women in the shop were very friendly and helpful and know their stock by heart and I was sorry not to buy anything. Then I stepped out of the door into a crowd of tourists taking pictures in front of the shop. I had naturally failed to realize that this was the book shop used in the film Notting Hill, but on the bright side they ordered the book I was looking for and I felt very important (and a little daft).

Sunday night I met up with a couchsurfing person and had one of those middle-of-the-road couchsurfing experiences. While the guy was not unkind or creepy, we clearly had nothing in common and I just wanted to get my butt back to my horrible hostel bed and sleep. He wanted to drink and sit in a bar that looks like the Vegas airport and ask me a series of questions that didn't really help us get to know one another. But that's one of the pit-falls of couchsurfing: you never know if you are a good friend match or not based on a couple of emails.

One cool thing was that we were out at the Cutty Sark which is this old British privateers ship they've moored into the promenade and you can walk all around it. It was pretty cool!

Monday was my last full day in London. I built on my experience of the last few days where walking around real neighborhoods had been really enjoyable, but tourist stops had been frazzling. So instead of really doing anything all day I just walked around the City of Westminster. Westminster is, yes, where the Abbey is, but it's also the area with the private parks and the fancy residences which all look exactly like Upstairs, Downstairs and 27A Wimpole Street. Walking around acting like a local, without the option to put in headphones, and not really trying to get any where was the best way to spend the last day. I fell in love with the city walking around these streets, and even living abroad, I've never loved any city accept for Portland. Loving Westminster is a big step for me.

In the evening I wrapped up a rather fanciful day by seeing the production of Les Mis at the Queen's Theatre. I went to see it because Carrie Hope Fletcher, who is a really cheerful youtuber, is in it. And I have to say, while seeing and then later meeting Carrie was wonderful, and the whole cast was absolutely fantastic (I don't think I've ever seen such a flawless execution in a stage production, ever), I still hate this opera. I just can't stand the plot lines and the repetitious themes and how much they try to squeeze into a 3 hour production. But if I concentrated on each scene individually, ignoring the overarching drawbacks, I really enjoyed the moments separately. The cast of #LesMisOfficial is really quite talented. And I say that having seen the original cast of Wicked.

After leaving the autograph-getting part of the night things moved quite quickly. I went to bed for 4 hours. Got up early. Caught the correct bus which was running 8 minutes later than google maps said it would be. Therefore missed my 5:10 am coach to the airport. Couldn't get on the 6 am coach because it was full and no one had bothered to forewarn us. Had to buy an additional ticket from another company to get to the airport on time. Had the flight delayed just enough so I got stressed that I would miss my non-refundable train back from the airport in Germany. Mis-read my booking schedule and ended up taking an unnecessary taxi to catch a non-existent train. Waited in the snow for 2 hours (at least Germany had the courtesy to snow for me). And 12 hours later got home. It essentially took me the same amount of time to fly to London as it would have been to DRIVE.

But overall, even being happy to be back in Germany, having slept horribly and over-paid for everything except food, I loved London. I think on the next trip I'll couchsurf and aim for a London Society trip: high tea, an evening opera show, quiet hours at the Tate, and more wandering about the City of Westminster.

More photos as the weather holds...

...and my brain doesn't ever stop singing "Feed the Birds" after walking past Marble Arch

Tuesday, December 17, 2013

Thanksgiving

I missed Thanksgiving in the states, but thankfully my family here is just deranged enough to give into my pleas for an American holiday. I ended up cooking for days and having to complicate recipes because they don't have things like condensed soup, French's fried onions, and canned pumpkin puree here. But in the end we had a very lovely, all American (tasting), German Thanksgiving dinner for 16. We did have to do it on a Sunday because Thursday wasn't a holiday over here.

The typical Martha Stewart chef photo.

Prim found the combination of Pandora Christmas music and the screen saver of hot men very amusing.

It was also the first day of Advent

My reward: a visit from St. Nicholas

Thursday, December 19, 2013

Snow Ball Fights

I'm the last Au Pair in a line of five for my current family. The kids have had Au Pairs coming in and out of their lives for 3-4 years. They know that eventually I'm going to leave and as a defense mechanism they don't get too attached, especially the younger (Reason #37 why I will never have an Au Pair). But this disengagement from me makes it difficult to form a positive relationship. On the one hand I have to drag him on walk and force him to play games with me, and on the other hand while he's happy to avoid the special fun times, I'm around all day so he's perfectly comfortable being a grump at me.

Despite his best efforts there are some days he cannot resist enjoying spending time with me, like Dec 3 when we baked 60 sugar cookies that never made it to the neighbors. And last Saturday.

It finally snowed last Saturday. And for those of you in Portland saying I shouldn't complain you've had plenty of snow and cold: it's been under 0 degrees C here for weeks on end, never coming above the freezing point, and also refusing to snow. So when it started to snow on Saturday, the two of us at home alone for the whole day, we got unreasonably excited. We waited and waited for the accumulation to hit a sweet point and then we took both dogs for a snow ball fight walk.

It was amazingly enjoyable, and even if he returned to being a pre-teen the moment we got inside and he realized how wet and cold he was, we had one good day together.

My mom at this point of the story started wondering if I really was in a good place. My mom, like most people, is able to hear the negative louder than the positive. I've had two really good days with the kids in the last 2 weeks. When you're more used to removing yourself from the equation because they don't want you around at all, 2 days is a lot. 2 days means that things are looking up.

Sunday, December 29, 2013

6 months today

It's hump day! And yes it is Sunday, not Wednesday. But it is also the half way point for me in this journey. I know for certain that I will be home on or before 6 months, 10 days from today and I left the US the same amount of time ago. It's been a crazy 6 months which I'm glad to have had, but I couldn't be happier that I'm half way home.

One of the biggest struggles in my commitment to be here for a year was knowing that I couldn't afford to go home for Christmas. Christmas in my family is huge, it's all about the people and the time and the food. I've never missed the 7 hour marathon that is Christmas Eve at Granny's until this year. And while some members of my family don't always like it so much, I love it.

I spent the month after Thanksgiving preparing myself for skipping Christmas this year while still trying to be a cheerful and energetic member of the family bringing Christmas cheer to the kids. I knew I wouldn't get a big family event with anyone and that the tree wouldn't get here until the 23rd. I was really struggling with it and feeling pretty home sick. But my host family came through as I never expected.

The kids and I talked about traditions and shared a lot of our culture, the mom, Ari, asked for CD's of my Christmas music which she put on at every opportunity, we all plotted out the perfect Christmas presents to get each other, holding secret pow-wows in the laundry room to get it just right.

On Christmas Eve (Heilige Abend) we went to Mass and I hummed along to Christmas carols (turns out trying to sing something like Silent Night in English while everyone else sings in German is not functional). The end of Mass marks the end of Advent and the beginning of Christmas. As the very last thing, instead of small talk everyone hugs and says "Frohe Weinachten!" for the first time.

Then we came home and the kids had to go upstairs as we got everything ready: dinner, presents, tree, everything. In Germany Santa Claus or Saint Nikolas comes on Saint Nikolas Tag (St. Nick Day, Dec. 6th) and Christ Kind (the Christ child) brings presents on Dec 24th. On getting back from Church there's supposed to be this big reveal of everything for the children so it's like the baby Jesus brought good food and presents and (a newly decorated) tree while you were out celebrating him. Since the kids are 10 and 15 it was more about getting everything perfect than having a Christkind surprise. We even put lit sparklers on the tree (Germans don't have smoke alarms or fire extinguishers in their houses, this is the most terrifying thing ever!).

Next came dinner: the traditional sausages and potato salad (it's not like the American stuff, it's so much better), Ari even went out of her way to buy turkey sausage for me. And after dinner I hid the pickle.

The pickle is a German tradition which we've always done at my house but the Germans didn't know anything about. We had talked about it a few days before and Ari and Mark had gone out shopping to buy a real German (glass) pickle for me to use on my tree from now on. Prim found the pickle so she had to play Santa and deliver the first round of gifts.

Most people don't know how much I love giving presents. My dad's big on the one gift Christmas since he hates shopping so I'm used to a small "haul" from Christmas and was completely prepared for getting my two gifts from home and watching everyone else open the presents I had lovingly ordered. What I wasn't prepared for was that my (host) family all went out and bought me presents. They had all chosen things I had talked about needing or wanting over the last 3 months and really put a lot of thought into my Christmas.

Every time I try to explain this it comes off sounding consumerist, but it wasn't about that at all. I had a wonderful Christmas because the people I was surrounded with went out of their way to listen to me and care about me. That's a kind of compassion we usually reserve for family and it's something I admire and respect in others. I felt really loved and valued this Christmas. I missed home and family. I missed playing silly games and having to eat with a kid on one leg, a dog starring you down and sitting on the living room floor because there are no more chairs. I missed being so excited about Christmas morning that I still woke up at 8 even though no one was getting there until 11. But I had people around me who adopted me and loved me when going home wasn't an option. I am beyond grateful for that.

There are a lot of times in the life of an Au Pair when you're frustrated or feeling abused because of cultural differences, living with a family you don't know to well, and the nature of the job. But I feel blessed to be with a family that wants me here and cares for me everyday.

Merry half-way-point!
Ellbow

Friday, January 17, 2014

Riding

I started riding again this week. Horses that is. A neighbor has a gelding and a back problem so she's letting me take him out for some exercise in exchange for some light maintenance (tack, mucking, grooming, etc.).

The boy's a doll, grumpy, opinionated and high energy. It was love at first he-really-doesn't-like-approaching-humans meeting. Grumpy old men are just my type (of horse).

I'm quickly learning that this is the most difficult challenge in learning German yet: adopting a hobby that is totally colloquial. I know none of the words. How to you get the horse to step forward? What's a hoof? A pick? A bridal? What is the German equivalent of "whoa"? There are so many different words that picking them up is slower than usual since I don't get to devote 20 minutes to practicing with one new piece of vocabulary, but hear 40 new words and phrases in a matter of minutes.

Adding to this is the fact that a) I haven't ridden in two years and b) I never had any dressage or English training, it was all for Western and trail riding. Add that to a horse who isn't supposed to be head reined, has lots of energy and I keep forgetting how to tell to stop... well I haven't fallen off yet.

I'm going back on Sunday for what should be a 4-5 hour ordeal. I'm thinking the big blank wall in front of me is going to need some diagrams and word lists so I can bulk up on the basics before then.

I really hope this is as good of an idea as I thought it was.

Friday, January 24, 2014

Don't Say Anything

I've been learning over the last few weeks that one of the hardest things to do in life is to walk away from a situation without saying another word. It feels like an admittance of guilt or defeat. It feels wrong. And I'm still trying to remind myself daily that walking away is respectful, level headed and the right thing to do. Even when it doesn't feel that way after three weeks.

On New Years day I ventured over to Munich again and I contacted my first family to see if I could bring by or drop off some presents for the boys. I've never felt good about how I left it with the family, but leaving Jay and Lee when they had no experience with Au Pair's and my leaving was rather unplanned really raked me. I felt and feel it's important that those boys know I was there for them, I genuinely cared.

What I got in response was a message saying they were "surprised" to hear from me, a friend had forwarded "disappointing comments" and they didn't feel the need to continue the "contact". (Forgive the weird one word quotes, but those were key words that stood out to me).

I grappled with this for about a day, talked to both my parents and some friends, and heard from everyone that the best thing to do is just to let that bridge burn and make no response. But even now, three weeks later, I still think about it at least once a day.

Not saying anything--not even an "Ok" or "I can respect that" or "I hope you'll read the whole blog one day and not just comments"--it feels wrong. I want to argue my point and have an outlet to a) apologize as they clearly feel that comments made in this blog are bad enough to warrant never wanting any form of contact with someone who lived in their house for three months and b) ask them to take some time to see the whole picture one day.

I re-read and copy edited the whole blog in the days following that message. What I read over and over were posts where I had been really hopeful that a not-as-great-as-I-thought-it-was-going-to-be situation would be amicably resolved. That I would find a way to be really happy with adults and kids who are so different from myself. I was really trying in those first two months to balance my responsibilities to school, myself and the family, and I felt personally responsible that things weren't working out.

The second thing that struck me was how happy I am here. I feel really lucky to be with a family now who gets me and puts effort into a two-way relationship. Just today there were conversations about career path and education and thesising, and watching Star Wars with my 10 year old and totally nerding out over it together, and my 15 year old baked great bread for tomorrow, and I cuddled on the couch with a dog, and I was given the time and space to take a 4 hour nap because I needed some sleep after horse back riding, and oh yeah, I went horse back riding, and I've read around 200 pages from three different books today. And it's all okay. No one's upset that I'm doing things I enjoy. I'm appreciated for the individual I am. And I appreciate my family for being the amazing people they are.

I think there's an argument to be made that I'm just a better fit with this family. But I think the argument that also gets left out of the picture on all of the Au Pair and Au Pair Mom websites that I've seen is that this family is a better fit with me.

I just wish there were a way of expressing that not-upset, not-angry, I hope your life goes well attitude to the first family without being disrespectful in contacting them again.

Thursday, February 27, 2014

Fasching

So there's a festival in SE Germany in the late winter (it started today) called Fasching. School is out, everyone is dressed in over the top costumes (very few of which are traditional), and there's a marching band that's been playing up and down the streets of my small little suburb since 5 am.

I'm still very unclear what it is they are actually celebrating, but any party that starts at 5 am one Thursday, lasts for an entire week, involves me eventually dressing up as Princess Leia and includes copious drinking for days on end can't be all that bad. Right?

Sunday, April 6, 2014

The Days I Really Love

The best days are the ones that end with me and the kids at home alone. We lounge around the living room, talking over a program none of us is watching, eating food that we like and is generally healthy but will never be Instagram worthy. We are relaxed and unstressed and not worried about phones or emails, just sharing space and enjoying living together.

I don't get a lot of these nights, but the dozen or so I have all rank as highlights of the Au Pair experience.

So tonight, putting Luke to bed in our first actual tucking in experience, I was happy enough with this job to forget to remember that I leave in four weeks (for almost 34 minutes). Dublin is coming. And if every night had been like this, the best part of being a substitute parent, being needed, I don't think I would want to get on that plane.

No matter the mixed bag this year has been, I'm genuinely going to miss these kids and the quiet, normal times they let me spend with them.

Tuesday, May 27, 2014

Wrapping Up

So I went home, for a few weeks, got back to Germany and got really sick, the family went on vacation, I got a few good days with the kids, and all of the sudden I was packing again. My Au Pair experience is over.

There are so many things I'm still holding on to. So many good memories and so many mixed emotions. I don't really want to dwell on it anymore, so I think I'll just say this:

I loved being with my families. Both of them. My second family was completely wonderful. I don't think I can express to them how much I respect them individually and as a collective. I left in what felt like such a rush, personally racing towards something new, that I never did say it. I hope that some part of my appreciation for them existing translated through other actions and words. I always regret not saying a proper goodbye to someone you care for, and then realizing you might never see them again.

I've had a few weeks to really digest it all. And what keeps coming back to me is a funny comment or a great moment of inclusion or a night with the kids I'll treasure for always. I got a lot of those. More than I realized when I was trying to pack and train and re-plan Ireland.

Now I have my photos and journals, and in 10 years I can really look back and evaluate the process, but for now... I don't think I will. It's all still too fresh for me to be objective.

And that's it really.

Even thought this blog is called "The Rocky Road to Dublin" I think I'm done. If you want to hear about Ireland you can call me or write me or send a telegram (I've always wanted to receive a telegram). But for the general purpose of adding something to the Interwebs... that's really all you need to know.

Signing off,
Ellbow

Thursday, November 6, 2014

6 Months Out

It's been six months since I left Germany, and it's crazy to realize that I still think about my family and my life there on a daily basis. Sometimes it's just remembering evenings watching The Voice of Germany, or long walks with the dogs, or a conversation over dinner. And sometimes it's a wave of regrets for things said and done and not. Living in Germany for a year, walking in Ireland, these were just one small part of what my life will be, but their impact is ongoing. I changed in that year so much. And there wasn't anything bad enough, not even how I've left things with my first family, to make me regret the experience.

So thank you.