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.

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.

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.

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.