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

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?

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.

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

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

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.

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!

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.