N* sucht den Supermarkt

6. Mai 2011

If there is one thing Germany gives generously, it's vacations during the school year. The break for Easter was a week and a half long, and the first week was the perfect time for my second solo trip. What started as a trip to Budapest turned into a trip to Budapest with a day trip to Vienna, turned into a trip to Vienna and Budapest with a day trip through Bratislava.

After four trains and 10.5 hours, I arrived in Vienna. Having decided that saving money was probably wise, I set out for the city center hoping to find a supermarket. This began a week-long saga or what I narrated in my head as "N* sucht den Supermarkt." In Germany, the show "Deutschland sucht den Superstar," (Germany looks for a Superstar), "DSDS" for short, is similarish to "American Idol" in the U.S. I think, and is incredibly popular. So much so in fact that Lena came over on the Saturday night preceding my trip to show it to me because "Everyone watches it, and if you want to be in on conversations, you have to know what's going on." So with this recent cultural experience on my mind, "NSDS" sort of popped into my head throughout my perpretual supermarket search.

Finding a grocery store in a new country is not always easy; if you don't know what to look for, they can blend right in! But once you do find them, having a look around is fascinating! You can tell a lot about a culture just by seeing what they typicall buy. Plus, it's always an adventure figuring out the system in the grocery store and then getting to try new things as your reward for getting it right.

Deine,
N*

Real Quotes by Real Students – Looks like German…sounds like German…

Ever since my first day teaching, my students have said some pretty unpredictable, strange or just downright hilarious things. In class you learn to expected the unexpected, and I’ve found that a either snappy reaction to turn a comment on its head or good acting skills are my best friends in the classroom when put in a situation that leaves the classroom precariously on the edge of disorder. Funny, awkward or otherwise, these moments in class never cease to make me remember why I adore working with each and every one of my students (although sometimes the situation is not funny until afterwards) and having the chance to get to know them and their vibrant personalities.


As such, I’d like to share these snippets with you. I’ve been keeping track of them, and I’ll post them from time to time. Of course, they are all anonymous for the protection of the innocent. Here we go.

In class, we encourage all the students to speak only in English, and sometimes I’ll call them out on speaking German if I catch them at it when I’m walking around. The cleverest comeback I’ve heard all year actually came from Frank-Frederick’s (you can read about him here, here or here)  friend, “Timo”:

N* (to the student speaking German): “That’s an awfully interesting form of English your speaking.”

T: “Oh, it’s a new dialect.”

N*: “Oh really…and it sounds so much like German, too”

T: “Yes, they wanted to make it easier for us.”

Well, you can’t beat that can you? A+ for creativity.

Deine,
N*

Real Quotes by Real Students – Just Like N*

Ever since my first day teaching, my students have said some pretty unpredictable, strange or just downright hilarious things. In class you learn to expected the unexpected, and I’ve found that a either snappy reaction to turn a comment on its head or good acting skills are my best friends in the classroom when put in a situation that leaves the classroom precariously on the edge of disorder. Funny, awkward or otherwise, these moments in class never cease to make me remember why I adore working with each and every one of my students (although sometimes the situation is not funny until afterwards) and having the chance to get to know them and their vibrant personalities.

As such, I’d like to share these snippets with you. I’ve been keeping track of them, and I’ll post them from time to time. Of course, they are all anonymous for the protection of the innocent. Here we go.


Frank-Frederick often leaves little comments for me in his essays if he knows I’ll be grading, which after hours of reading about something like the American school system, I really appreciate. In that particular essay, this is what he wrote:

“The two biggest dances of the year are Prom and Homecoming. There you can take pictures as souvenirs [like N* :D].”

I’m glad that my students did enjoy the photos that I put into my presentation.

Deine,
N*

American Cooking 101

3. Mai 2011

My “Russian” friends plus Elise, Lara’s good friend and one of the 11th graders I know from the dance group at school and the ski trip joined me for dinner and English movie night. In true N* fashion, I planned far too many things to do and through a well-honed combination of over-procrastination and under-estimation, my apartment was clean, but the cooking portion of the evening was left egregiously lacking in doneness by the time Lara, Ben and Elise arrived. In fact, of the three things to be made, none were finished. The doorbell rang just as I poured the quark layer over top of the chocolate dough for the Russische Zupfkuche (literally: Russian pluck cake) I was baking.

“Dinner’s not ready, but I’m baking a cake,” I told my friends as we walked up the stairs. They “ah’d” appreciatively at the prospect of cake and appeared to be more concerned with the art in the stairwell than with the fact that it was 6:30 P.M., and they had a delinquent cook on their hands. Granted the art in the stairwell is quite…startling (It’s not mine, lol!), but more on that at a later date.

Once in my apartment, they politely offered to help, and as much cutting was required, everyone had plenty to do while I finished making the remaining cake batter into flat, pulled-off pieces over the top of the cake. Much like me at that age, my students don’t have so much experience in the kitchen, but they are fast learners. The kitchen was a friendly bustle of chatter in English and German.

“What can I do next?” Elise asked, as I pulled a bunch of green onions from the fridge.

“Green onions,” I replied.

“What?”

“Um…these…I can’t remember the word in German.”

“Das ist doch Lauch, wahr?” interjected Ben. (That’s green onions, right?)

“Was ist dann Schnittlauch?“ said Elise. (What’s chives then?)

“Wann es geschnitten ist,“ replied Ben (When it’s cut.)  (I love this story...and included it because when I was looking through a German cookbook I was given as a birthday present, I thought the same thing at first!)

“Nee, stimmt gar nicht. Der ist dünner,“ Lara cut in. (That’s not true. Chives are thinner.)

“Ach sooooo, das stimmt,“ conceded Ben. (Ohhhhh, that’s right.)

“You mean chives?” I guessed.

“Was denn? Chi…was?” Three puzzled faces looked over at me.

“They’re skinny and green.”

“What means skinny in English?” was the next question.

“Thin. Not fat,” I suggested.

“Ach so,” said Lara, who promptly got her list and made a quick note. Being me, I happened to have a bag of dried chives in the cupboard.

“These things?” I inquired.

“Yes,” said answered Elise decisively, as she held onto one end of the bunch of green onions, “but which part of the Lauch do we eat?”

After successfully identifying and cutting up the Lauch (and the three of them crying from a combination of hysterical laughter and green onion fumes – who knew they could be potent enough to draw tears?), we were ready to make salad dressing and mix the seasoning for the oven fries. This was an experience in itself because none of them had ever seen American measuring cups and spoons.

Finally the cake came out of the oven, smelling of cocoa, the fries were put in to bake in its place, and the four of us crowded around my laptop with plates of tortellini salad to watch “Singing in the Rain” in English. I have seen the movie enough times that I can practically quote it, and it was even more fun than usual to be able to watch my companion’s reactions. “…but you have to talk into the mike first. In the bush!” and the song, “Moses Supposes,” were particular favorites.

The perfect cake

The fries were also a hit, as was the cake with its perfectly creamy quark sinking delectably into the moist chocolate layer which had a slightly crunchy crust – something that I find to be the pinnacle of cakey perfection. Surprisingly, the three different dishes, not normally served together mad ea satisfying trifecta. Lara even made the tortellini salad again with her family.

I only hope that Lara, Ben and Elise had as much fun as I did and that they didn’t mind the cooking lesson. I so much prefer cooking with people, and there’s something magical about sharing a meal that connects us to each other in a different, but just as vital way as our verbal interactions.

Deine,
N*

P.S.  My German friends are FANTASTIC!

It’s Like GREEN…and Then Mountains!

07. April 2011

Last weekend I finally made “the pilgrimage.” Ever since I started learning German, I’ve been inoculated with photos of Bavaria and castles, especially Neuschwanstein. So although it’s definitely the American cliché, when a fellow ETA mentioned she’d be going to Neuschwanstein and needed a travel buddy, I was in!

 

German countryside from train

After eight hours in three different trains (regional, to save money, and also why it took so long), I arrived in Munich and set right to work being a tourist. I did a self-guided city-center tour, visiting three churches, including one that looked like Rococo threw up on it. Seriously, I don’t think it gets more intense than the Asamkirche. Can you say phantasmagoric? Between the stunning stark three dimensional visual impression of black marble, laced with white curls, the gilding and the ornamentation that is so impossibly intricate, I think the décor’s extent is actually unfathomable. Another church, the Theatinerkirche, was chalky white stucco and covered over with floral elements – also white – in high relief, relying on the contrast of the shadows on its surface for visual impact. I have yet to visit a city that matches Munich for such a truly out of this world church viewing experience.

Then I moseyed my way past the royal palace, and an obelisk to where else but the museum? For three thrilling hours I allowed my senses to be enchanted by the sights, sounds and smells of art, including among other noteworthy specimens (I like to think of art having a life of its own. Museums breathe life into me by the bucketful and sometimes it amazes me that the sturdy walls of these metaphorical fortresses are capable of playing host to those lively, rattling art souls.), Overbeck’s “Italia and Germania”, Van Gogh’s “Sunflowers” and some real stunners by Klimt to remind me of the frenetic energy smoothed into soothing color and patterns I find so hypnotizing in his works, just in case I had forgotten.

That evening April arrived and we went in search of dinner and strolled through the lighted cobblestone streets in peaceful preparation for the excitement that was to come on the following day when we took the eight hour Neuschwanstein tour.



Beautiful Alps!



“Oh my gosh!...It’s like GREEN…and then mountains!” proclaimed the Michiganesque Valley Girl behind us on the train, her words rolling off her tongue blithely as our train rolled through the staunchly green and blue panorama of hills and sky that suggested the opening scenes from “The Sound of Music” to my ready imagination. The views from the rest of the day were no less visually stimulating as I entered the magical world of Neuschwanstein, left unfinished by the “Fairytale King” Ludwig II of Bavaria’s mysterious death. “Es ist ein Märchen” (It’s a fairytale), just like Frau Doktor T, my Russian teacher, told me it would be. From the bridge you can see the stony white turrets reflecting brightly against the green valley and plains near


Neuschwanstein!



the town of Füßen below. Inside the few (relatively speaking, since there are about a hundred rooms) rooms Ludwig II managed to fully decorate and furnish, the intensity of the detail, the richness of the colors and the dedication to bringing all things Wagner to life is unbelievable. It’s a shame that Ludwig II never had the chance to really live there or finish this one of the many projects to which he was so dedicated. I would also be curious to know what was really going on in the mind of a man who dedicated so much time and money to building such extravagant castles. All in all, it was a perfect day; the perfect escape, as perhaps Ludwig once thought of it too. Thanks, April, for being an awesome travel buddy and making the trip happen!

Sunday morning found me museuming again. Several of the museums are €1 on Sundays and special exhibitions are reduced as well, so I got into the visiting exhibit (with a Vermeer!! – “Woman Holding a Balance”) and the permanent collection of the Alte Pinakothek for €4. It just doesn’t get better than spending the morning wandering among Reubens, Rembrandt and Rosalba. Rosalba Carriera was a pastel portrait artist was able to do the near impossible and make a decent living as an artist as a woman during this the 18th century. Looking at her work you can see why. Not only are her pieces incredibly accurately personalized, but all the details of clothing and accessories are so painstakingly lifelike that it’s all you can do not to touch them just to see if they aren’t somehow real. Plus the depths of the pastels seem to breathe life into the subjects’ features. I feel like seeing all these works live is putting the 3rd dimension into my Art History education. I can only imagine the ultimate learning experience: Lecture IN the museum. Sublime.



Hohenschwangau and Schwannsee



Along the train ride home, the announcements gradually morphed from Southern dialect back to the relatively accentless German I am accustomed to. But I smiled as I left Hof – on my way southward two days before, my fellow passengers and I had glanced at each other in surprise as an intelligible, but distinctly different German blared forth for the announcements. That was the first of many times during the trip that I thought to myself, “Dorothy, you’re not in ‘Kansas’ anymore.” Today I was ready for it, but I’ll admit that as magical as my time in Southern German ‘Oz’ was, I’m still never disappointed to return to Sachsen-Anhalt – the place in Germany that I now truly feel at home.

Deine,


Amazing Apfelstrudel

N*