Travel by Number

Sweet street art

23. Mai 2011

Springtime in Vienna!

Vienna Secession...art dork!

Naschmarkt, Vienna

Handpainted Easter eggs!

My Easter Break trip in April was epic.  I saw and experienced so much that any amount I write about it really can’t do it justice.  The magnitude of both the distance I traveled and the sites I visited is truly massive…honestly there is no honest way that I can accurately verbalize my sensual impressions of Vienna, Bratislava and Budapest, but I can leave a road map of my journey and hopefully spark some part of you to give due time to these three capital cities on the Danube river if you haven’t already or remind you of hidden memories of a prior trip that are still lingering off in the corners of your mind.

Poppyseed noodles!  Europe has the best fair food!

Enjoying the little things

Train to Bratislava...Wiesel???

Far from home

Eating veggie with the Hare Krishna

• 3 capital cities • 90 kilometers walking • 26 hours in the train • 1 Danube River • 20 Lipizzaner Stallions • 1 terraced palace view • 2 world class museums • 1000s of hand painted Easter eggs • 1 Gustav Klimt’s “The Kiss” • 1 contemporary ballet mystery • 2 angry Brits • 2 turtles in a train station • 1 advertisement for my homeopathic flu medication • 3 grumpy Slovak train station employees • 3 sweet Slovak “grandparents” pointing me in the right direction • 1 €5 (and somewhat useless) map of Bratislava • 1 failed trip to Devin Castle • 3 vegetarian restaurants • 5 Hare Krishna • 2 fair trade stores • 2 questionable statues • 1 drinking fountain feeding directly from underground springs • 1 world class performance of Ravel’s “Bolero” • 10 thermal bath pools • 1 Gellert Hill hike • 7 days of gorgeous weather • 2 Chinese twin roommates • 5 vibrant markets • 1 Polish hippy hostel • 6 postcards with international postage • 1000s of new sights, sounds, smells, tastes and impressions •

Never seen an ad for my flu meds before

I love traveling in Eastern Europe!

Deine,

N*

Lock gates started in Budapest

Artsy Fischerbastei

Jewish memorial

Poppyseed ice cream???  Yum!

Danube from Gellert Hill, Budapest

Sunset behind Gellert Hill...perfect last night!

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 – 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!

Russian in Germany

19. März 2011

Over the past few months, I have been trying to learn Russian (with varying degrees of diligence). I sit in a 9th grade class a couple times a week, meet with a Russian teacher and a GT student after school and meet with two Russian students for Russian-English conversation hour on Fridays. Despite this, I often find it difficult to stay motivated without actually having a consistent class at my level. Not to mention that I’m learning in German. Oy. I have made a decent amount of progress, though, and it’s fun. I love the way the language sounds, although my pronunciation is terrible. At least the grammar makes sense to me.



Check it out!



I anticipated that my learning curve might be steeper than with previous languages I’ve learned because first I

had to learn to read and write Cyrillic (and of course, cursive and print are fairly different, just to make it more confusing), so I’ll just keep trying. If nothing else, I can speak (very) simply and I learned to read and write, which is an accomplishment in itself! Also, I find myself being able to pick the limited words I know out of conversations in Slavic languages while I’m traveling…cool!

What I really want to talk about here, though, are the relationships that I’ve gained in my attempted to learn Russian in Germany.

First, there’s my Russian teacher, Frau Doktor T (Don’t you love the German titles?). She has so much passion for the Russian language, and I actually thought she was Russian for a while. It turns out her Mom did a Russian radio show during DDR times, so she grew up with the language. She’s been really helpful in the learning process and is now a friend in the teacher room. There are around 100 teachers at my school, and I really only have a relationship with a few because people are in and out so much, so making a new friend was definitely positive. Plus, she’s really full of life and fascinating to talk to. We speak German together, and she tries out the English phrases she knows sometimes, too.

I’ve also gotten to know “der kleine Kostya,” the GT student learning Russian. I actually knew him from my time at T’s (my former host mom) school during my previous visits to Germany, so it’s funny we’ve been brought together again. He’s very shy, but lately we walk together to the train station after Russian lessons, as he goes that way to walk home. He talks and I talk – mostly in German – and it’s interesting to hear what he has to say. Sometimes you can tell that there’s so much going on in his head at once that he can’t express it all quickly enough. You can almost see wheels spinning and gears whirring – adorable. His Mom has even said that he can’t read before bed because he starts thinking about so many things that it’s impossible for him to sleep afterwards.

Perhaps some of my favorite people are my Russian-English speaking partners, Lara and Ben. They’re 9th graders, but in the U.S. you’d never believe it because they’re so smart and mature. Lara always comes to our sessions armed with a notebook to write down any words we talk about that she doesn’t know. Smart really since she and Ben are two of the 16 students from our school who will participate in the month-long exchange program in Texas this fall. Since I know them primarily from outside the classroom setting (Lara is also in the dance group I teach in at school), I’ve really gotten to know them on a much more personal level, and I think we’ve all been able to benefit from the exchange. They’ve taught me about a myriad of things in Germany from Bleigießen (lead figures that are melted over a candle on a spoon and then dropped into cold water before their shape is “read” to show what is the come in the new year) to how to tell someone their zipper is unzipped in German (valuable information, I tell you…if someone tells me that, I need to know!) to everything under the sun about the German school system to when you should (and shouldn’t) ring your bike bell. Not to mention that they’ve helped me feel truly integrated in both the school and the culture. I only hope that I’ve been able to share as much of my culture with them as they have their culture with me.



Making guac



One night they came over and we made burritos and guacamole. They’d never had guacamole before (gasp!), and we had a lot of fun mashing the avocados. In true Chipotle fashion, I helped them learn how to roll a burrito and they really managed it quite well. I was pretty sure that they enjoyed their first foray into the realm of Mexican food, and sure enough a couple of weeks later, they told me that they made burritos with their families one weekend. That really made my day.

Who would’ve thought that such fantastic relationships would come out of learning Russian in Germany? My life here is full of wonderful people, and I am so thankful for their warmness and acceptance.



Rolling like a pro...note the pinky!



Deine,

N* 



Beautiful flowers they brought me



 

In Which I Experience a Small Flood

11. März 2011

When I wrote about my students a while back, I mentioned Lena, one of my 9th graders. Since I’ve met her, she has continued writing e-mails to me, working hard in English and generally being interested in the U.S. She’s actually going to be able to go to the U.S. with our school’s month-long exchange program to Texas in the fall. She was a bit unsure about going at first, but when a spot opened up, she really took the initiative, so I’m incredibly proud of her.

One day we ended up talking about food, and she told me about “Grießbrei”, which they often eat for dessert in her family. Of course with my dessert project in full swing, I wanted to know how to make it. Well, Lena went home, asked her Mom about the recipe and sent me an e-mail with instructions, but then suggested we make it together sometime. And that’s how I ended up inviting her over to cook it and watch a movie with me.

Of course, the day before this, I became obsessed with the idea of Eierschecke – a three-layer cake typically found in Saxony, and especially in the city of Dresden, and decided to give it a go. However, round one was not to be because the yeast dough recipe I had ended up being faulty; I tried it twice with horrendous, rock-like results. After further research, I decided to try out a more cake-like bottom layer the next day. This was more successful, but ended up seeming a bit like my snicker doodle cookie dough, but I went ahead and greased the pan anyways. The dough looked like it might not stretch enough to fill the whole baking dish, so I decided to use only part of it and proceeded to fashion a wall out of tin foil. Don’t ask. It seemed like a good idea at the time.


Quark filling...and the wall!





 About an hour and a half before Lena was set to arrive, I was busy mixing the thick, quark filling. Quark is sort of like a mix between yogurt and cream cheese, so this filling could be compared in a way with American cheesecake. The result when it is cooked is a bit more fluid and slightly stickier, yet it somehow retains a fairly firm taste and texture. Finally I began composing the custard top, complete with separating egg yolks and egg whites. Whipping the egg whites was certainly an adventure, as I didn’t anticipate just how much they’d expand and it was necessary to transfer them to a larger bowl partway through. All in all, I felt proud of my egg-related efforts for the afternoon.

Just as I finished cooling the custard made from the egg yolks and whipping the egg whites, Lena called me. Through some miscommunication (on my part) about directions (because somehow I apparently still can’t adequately describe where I live), her Dad had brought her to the wrong house, but eventually she arrived with a box of chocolates, the Grieß and a glass jar of cherries we would later heat for the topping. I warned her about the highly experimental nature of my cake, and went about mixing the top layer. As I was pouring the egg custard over the top, I could see that there wasn’t really room for it. Just as I was sincerely regretting not rolling the bottom layer out to cover the entire pan, a flood of egg custard broke the aluminum dam and flowed as though molten across the open third of the pan.


The Grießbrei

 “That’s not supposed to happen, is it?” remarked Lena in her slightly Germanized and completely adorable British accent. Of course I replied in the negative, but decided to put the cake in the oven regardless.

In the meantime, Lena and I started in on making the Grießbrei. She told me that her Mom makes it so often that she doesn’t even have to measure the Grieß, which looked a bit like sand, anymore. While we put the cherries on to heat, we guesstimated the proper amount and cooked it. The result can best be compared to Southern grits, I think, but we’d put in a bit too much Grieß, so our version turned into large cakes of grainy stuff, much like polenta, as it cooled. It was still tasty, though.


Finished in the oven!





By then the cake was done, and by some miracle, none of it was burnt, despite the lack of uniformity in the composition. While waiting for the cake to cool, Lena and I watched The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants in English – a movie based on one of my most-read series of books and which also had a good level of English for Lena. I think she enjoyed it, and afterwards we also enjoyed the cake, which turned out to be perfectly moist and delectable, even if the aesthetic was a little unusual. I had to transfer part of the top layer so it was allocated properly across the cake.



Masterpiece

 All in all, I’d deem it a success…the cake and the evening. I’m consistently impressed with my students’ abilities in English, and the chance to interact bears innumerable opportunities for intercultural exchange. Unfortunately having my students over also means they are prone to be exposed to some of my crazy cooking/crafting ideas that are constantly underfoot in my apartment, but hey, life’s not fun without a little crazy!

Bis bald!

Deine,
N*

P.S.  If you'd like to try out the Eierschecke recipe...I used this one for the dough and this one for the top two layers, minus the lemon zest and raisins.  The only problem might be getting quark in the U.S., but I've been told that some World Markets actually carry it.

Whirlwind

2. März 2011

In February, Erin and I traveled to Lisbon over our Winter Break. The trip really started in Greece, though. Well, at least the idea did. We thought we’d go somewhere warm for our February winter break, but it turns it turns out that winter in Greece actually is winter and not the mild temperatures we were seeking. Plus many places are closed in the off-season. With some German directions, we settled on “Lissabon” without actually knowing a lot about it. The trip was simultaneously one of the most thrilling, albeit it one of the must frustrating culturally I have yet to encounter. 



Gateway by dusk



Neither Erin nor I spoke a word of Portuguese prior to the trip, although I can understand a substantial amount of the written language. Portuguese is the ultimate language mash-up, so my varied amounts of background knowledge in Italian, French and Spanish served me well for reading. The problem is that the spoken word often sounds much different than you’d think because, as I was told, all of Portugal’s many colonial holdings during the empire have shaped the vocabulary and pronunciation of the language, so really speaking any Portuguese in a way that wasn’t completely degrading the language or my pride was a lost cause. We settled for being able to say “thank you” – “obrigado(a).” If you can only say one word in a language, I think that’s a pretty good choice.

“Pastéis de Nata”



Trying to find decent meals was difficult with a vegetarian in tow, so from that standpoint, our experience with authentic food was not fantastic, although the pizzeria next to our hotel had an unbelievable spinach and mushroom pizza. The pastries were out of this world, though. Lisbon is filled with little cafés where locals go in the late afternoon to enjoy coffee and pastries, often while standing right at the counter. We tried square-shaped doughnuts, flaky spiral breads and something made from quince among others, but perhaps the most sensational were the “Pastéis de Nata” which we abstained from getting until the last day, so we could eat them at their place of origin, the “Pastéis de Belém”. There you can enjoy these custard-filled tarts, still hot from the oven, outside with a view of the water. The day was warm at about 60° Fahrenheit, and we basked coatless, thus securing our image as tourists, while the creamy custard and crusty crunch of the tart cups was a perfect compliment to the weather.



Typical mosaic ground



That day wrapped up a whirlwind of sightseeing encompassing the main sights of the mosaic-sidewalked city, as well as a day trip to the cities of Sintra and Cascais, with a stop at the Cabo da Roca – the westernmost point in Europe. The countryside was a veritable jungle of verdant trees, bushes and flowers, which was juxtaposed with the indescribable turquoise depths changing to roiling white breakers which graced the still-green coastline. In Cascais I narrowly escaped a sneaker wave as it rushed in suddenly to engulf my legs to the knees, above which rested the blissfully dry inside-out edges of the jeans I had so fashionable folded up over themselves to the thigh mere seconds before. It was a lucky break indeed to be wading in the Atlantic in February with relative comfort.

   

Jerónimos Monastery



The mild temperatures allowed us to roam the ruins of a Moorish castle in Sintra and the Castello de San Jorge in Lisbon itself. Both were full of giant stairs, parapets paralleling those I had only read about in books as a child, and picturesque panoramas. The latter was also filled with cats and peacocks. The National Palace in Sintra was a lavish meshing of colorful patterned tiles, paintings and regal-looking furniture, complete with the most enormous kitchen I’ve ever seen in my life. Each gigantic pot had room underneath it for a decent-sized blaze, and one of the ovens was like a giant closet! The architectural feats in Lisbon are bolder and more varied than I’ve ever seen, in main part due to the fact that the city is so old that something from nearly every time period and from many cultures – Moors, Romans, Visigoths, etc. (we saw a real aquaduct!) can be found. The famous Belém Tower and Jerónimos Monastery are actually quite young in comparison with many sites, but they are no less spectacular; both are feats of grandeur with ornate stone decorations that we can only dream about in the U.S.



Typical mosaic tiling





Belém Tower



Cathedral Memorial



A 3 hour turned 5 hour tour with our guide and just one other Italian man allowed us more glimpses of the city’s spectacular diversity. In 1755 an earthquake destroyed most of the city and along with its resulting tsunami caused the deaths of a large percentage of the population. The city regenerated quickly with the first earthquake-proof housing, leaving the towering, crooked vertebrae of a ruined church as a remembrance, and allowinga new, modern layer of the city to be born. Most buildings were ravaged, but the parts of the city build on bedrock such as the Alfama Quarter remained virtually untouched. Walking here was like entering a completely different world where laundry is left unattended and no one locks their doors. It only takes ten minutes to reach the city center on foot, but somehow this world of quaint houses, public baths and Fado restaurants has maintained a spirit of its own.



View into Alfama



I was fascinated to learn how people from all economic backgrounds coexisted in Alfama. Life there seems to be about LIVING. This tolerance for differences carries out into the city’s easy multiculturalism as well. I had noticed how culturally diverse the city was, but I was surprised to hear how, unlike other diverse cities, there was no “Chinatown” or “Little Italy” there. Our tour guide, an immigrant himself, explained that this integration is something else that stems back to colonial times. When the Portuguese were trying to build their empire, each soldier sent to a foreign land was required to take a wife as a way to gain rapport with the people and make their holdings more stable. As a result when people from these colonies came back to Portugal, they were already integrated into society via their Portuguese family members, so there was no need to move into a separate area of the city. There wasn’t any pressure to do so anyways because so many people had foreign family members themselves. Ironically, out of the country’s efforts to colonize – something that usually involves taking someone cultural else’s identity and pushing your own upon them – the Portuguese immersed their own people in multiculturalism. This has given birth to an immeasurable spirit of tolerance in the city. “We have our problems,” our guide told us, “but racism isn’t one of them.” Hearing this from the lips of an immigrant, who feels able to identify in part as Portuguese, gave me so faith in humanity. I’d like to live somewhere where people are seen first as people, rather than as colors, religions or countries.



Elevator!



We invested in a Lisboa (name for Lisbon in Portuguese) Card – a wise choice since it afforded us numerous discounts and free entries to museums and monuments in addition to unlimited use of all public transportation systems in the city. This included buses, the metro system, street cars, old-fashioned San Francisco-like trams, as well as the elevators. You could ride up several stories and climb to a panoramic view of the city, but at first I was a bit confused as to why they were considered a mode of transport. This is until I realized hat high up on the back side was an aerial pathway connecting the towering structure with the hill behind it. We tried it once, and although the line took about 20 minutes, the trip in the giant wrought-iron encased box was a much-needed escape fro the winding uphill path through the streets we would have otherwise taken. It was a shame I didn’t have my pedometer, but based on previous experience I can tell you we probably walked 6-8 miles (and sometimes more) each day.

Our last night in Lisbon was dampened by our unsuccessful pursuit of food, as we sort of ended up in the middle of a feud between two restaurants hosts. Hindsight is twenty-twenty, and we should have chosen neither establishment, but we were so hungry and frustrated that we caved. To top it all off, we ended up missing our bus-stop at the airport because the bus stopped at only one of the three that were advertised (you probably have to know when to press the button to tell the bus you want to get out there), and we ended up trekking our bags the half mile back to the airport. Oy. This curbed our mood significantly on the return trip, but once we were back in Dessau for the weekend, it was easy to remember the overall positive feeling of our time there as we scrolled through hundreds of fantastic photos!

With that, I will leave you with one final anecdote that illustrates just how crazy some aspects of the trip became. Erin and I needed stamps, as several of the postcards she was sending were headed for Germany, so she couldn’t just send them when we returned. Unfortunately, she ended up with stamps for Europe on all of her postcards and some needed to go to the U.S. in Portugal you have to take a number and get in line at the post office because the Portuguese like to be able to enjoy coffee if it’s going to be a long wait. So, when Erin came over to the counter where I was still being helped, the attendant noticed the error, removed the stamps and replaced them with new ones, telling us in broken English that she couldn’t resell them, but we could give them away.

We didn’t want the stamps to go to waste, so we decided to try to give them to people who we saw were mailing postcards. Our first victims were an older man and woman. Unfortunately their English wasn’t so good, but when they said they were sending the card to Italy, I jumped in without thinking, “Parla italiano, Lei?” After they replied in the affirmative, I finally managed to explain about the stamps and how they were free because we couldn’t use them. That worked with some minor language hang-ups on my part (my Italian is a bit rusty, and I’ve never had the chance to speak to a lot of native speakers), but then the postmaster came over and started telling us (in Italian!) that it was illegal to sell stamps, which we explained wasn’t what we were trying to do, as did the couple. He still looked angry, so we left a “free stamps” in Portuguese with the help of our dictionary and made our exit. We’re pretty sure the postmaster probably took the stamps away as soon as we were gone, but at least we tried.

I caught Erin completely off guard with my quick transition into Italian, and the two of us laughed about the incident later, although while it was happened, it wasn’t so amusing. And with that, I shall close the door on Lisbon and wait for the next adventure!

Deine,

N*

Columns on Belém Tower

Moorish Castle ruins

Westernmost Point in Europe

       

Experiments

Sometimes I get an idea in my head that I just can’t stop thinking about. For months “Milchreis” has been haunting my supermarket visits and dancing tantalizingly before my outstretched fingertips. Finally after Christmas break in the U.S., I decided that I was going to try it. Countless times, I had returned the pre-made variety to the shelf, rejected, after careful perusal of the ingredient list, so it appeared that actually tasting the concoction would be preceded by preparing it myself. This prospect appealed to me much more, regardless of the aforementioned superfluous ingredients, I mused, as I finally gathered the needed items into my shopping cart.
Milk, the “Milchreis” rice (white rice), sugar, cinnamon. Straightforward enough. I even sprung for organic milk because at .69 Eurocents a liter, it certainly wasn’t going to break the bank. On my way home, mini-trampoline in tow (but that’s another story), I ran into one of my colleagues, who, while unabashed by the trampoline, seemed taken with the idea that I might like “Milchreis” and she hadn’t known about it. After counseling me to make sure I ate it with cinnamon and melted butter drizzled over the top the way her mom always made it and giving me a much-appreciated rundown on the exact meaning of certain vocabulary in the cooking instructions, she sent me on my way.

The "Milchreis"



Once I had thumped my way clumsily up the stairs with my ingredients and my trampoline, I relaxed into the warmth of my apartment and set the stage. One pan, a whisk (Schneebesen or “snow broom” in German!), measuring cups and a metric-English calculator later I was well underway. The process was simple enough, as “Milchreis” is in effect rice boiled in milk instead of water. The concoction was tasty, but it was a little sticky and took some adapting to. Paired with cinnamon and a little extra sugar I found it to be a comforting and satisfying treat.



Rice Pudding hot from the oven

 While talking with my Mom a few days later, she asked me if it was similar to rice pudding, fondly called “figgy pudding” in our house, which was a childhood favorite of mine. To be honest, it had been about 15 years since I’d had rice pudding, so I set out to make it, little knowing what an undertaking it would be. The recipe required baking the pudding in a glass baking dish immersed in a water bath.



Ready to eat!

 After visiting the neighbors, I procured the missing baking implements and mixed the custard while the rice finished cooking. Then I put it all together and stuck it in the oven. Luckily I had enough raisins left; even though I had bought them FOR the pudding, I had been eating them like it was my job. The result was completely different from the “Milchreis” since the eggs in the pudding make the filling custardy, but it was as delectable as I remembered.

I guess I got a bit spoiled because after both desserts were gone I felt like there was a dessert-shaped hole in my stomach that only homemade baked goods could fill, and that’s when it struck me. Even if I pass up cultural experiences due to my preference to not eat meat, German dessert is one category that leaves my options wide open. I don’t just want to eat it, though. I want to make it myself – to fully engage in the process and have a piece of German experience that surely no one in the U.S. will object to my sharing with them. So that’s my new goal: to cook, eat and share as many German desserts as I can over the next months. I’ve already invested in a new glass baking dish and a cake pan that’s like a deep cookie sheet, so let’s go!

Ideas about what I should bake?  Please enable me.

Deine,

N*

Go-Go German Gadget!

When I walk into a German house, I am often charmed by the “European” look of everything. If you’ve ever walked into an Ikea, you’ll know what I mean; there’s just a staunchly European feel to it – a perfect triad of minimalism, appropriately welcoming (and often bright) colors and a certain chicness that differs distinctly in feel from American modern deco. Even if the furnishings are vastly different from what I’d choose myself, I always feel at home in these houses. Though I’m at no means ready to abandon my traditional sense of style, there are parts of this lifestyle that I could definitely see incorporating into a house someday.

The way houses are built here is also different. Sometimes the walls here are incredibly thick (greater than 1 foot), which makes sense from an insulation point of view, since energy is more expensive here and there’s no air conditioning. Multi-family homes are also common, so different levels of the houses are often occupied by different families, or different generations of a family. The “attic” part inside an A-frame is sometimes a “rental apartment” (like the one where I live), so all possible living space is used. Even the houses are connected together in city areas, with a green space only behind them. Of course, there are many single houses, big and small, in addition to the connected homes and apartments, so just like in the U.S., living situations can vary greatly.

While we’re on the topic of German houses and lifestyle, the thing I am continually fascinated by are the interesting and useful “gadgets” that can be found in my apartment/are used frequently in Germany. Since I’ve finally gotten a new camera since the tragic camera accident of 2010, let me show you what I mean!

1. We’ll start in my apartment. Check out these windows…they swing in with the left or right side attached to the wall AND tilt in, so there's just an opening at the top. I love the flexible options, and it makes cleaning on the higher floors of houses so simple.  (I wanted to put a picture here, but you just couldn't capture it.  Use your imagination!)

2. My heating system is in the floor and on the walls. It’s run by water pumps, so whenever the heat kicks in, the floors click which really freaked me out the first time I heard it and didn’t know what it was. It’s easy to use and allows me to heat different rooms to different temperatures, plus my feet are always warm.

3. Trash cans are kind of confusing, but the green aspect of them makes it worth it. I have separate containers for compost, paper, packaging and trash, plus there’s a separate place for recycling glass (bins for each of three colors) in town. There’s also a place to return certain plastic drink containers (in many grocery stores), which scans them individually and gives you back the appropriate bottle deposit.

4. Speaking of grocery stores…in large stores produce that is priced by weight is weighed in the produce section, where you then choose the product type and print a sticker with the weight and price already on it. It’s great not to have to guess what I’ll actually have to pay, not to mention it’s especially convenient here where I deal with the metric system and the Euro.  




Someone has been snacking!



5. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a German with a lunch box. Since sandwiches are standard lunch fare, they

typically use boxes like these in varying sizes, as well as smaller ones for fruit, snacks, etc. Cute, convenient and durable, as well as eliminating the use of aluminum foil or saran wrap. I’m a fan. I do have to admit that I still keep my box inside a lunch box, though.



 
 

Erasing function in action

6. Now you see it…now you don’t. I’ve taken up the fountain pen – the writing instrument of choice for many Germans. I love the way the writing looks and the way the weight of my pen feels in my hand. As a lefty I’m usually not a fan of pens for several reasons, so that I love the fountain pen is saying a lot. Plus, I feel nostalgic for the days before computers when fountain pens were a widely used writing instrument when I use it. Of course the fountain pen itself is cool, so the fact that you can actually erase it is even better. My students all come to class armed with both fountain pens and the so-called “Tintenkillers” (literally “ink killers”), which have a white tip for erasing on one end and a blue tip for writing over the erased areas on the other. Who knew?

7. I think bread slicers exist in the U.S., but I’ve sure never had one, so I’m quite enamored by mine. The bread here is superb, too. I always visit a bakery instead of buying in the grocery store, and I have the luxury of buying bread by the loaf, so it’s always freshly sliced at home. My favorites are the Kurbiskornbrot (Pumpkinseed Bread) and Dreikornbrot (Three grain bread).



Check it out...air vent!

 8. My bathroom actually features two interesting items. The pull-down window has a special tab at the top that opens to allow the humidity from the shower out of the room without letting the air outside into the house. The glass shower stall is also complete with its own squeegee for clearing the inner walls after showering. The water here is extremely hard, so if you don’t have a scraper, you constantly have to scrub off the limey residue left behind by the drying water drops after even one shower.



...note the crack in the middle!



9. Right now I actually like the idea of individual duvets with easily washable covers, especially from the standpoint of convenience. My full bed is actually two mattresses in one bed frame, so each has its own sheets and blankets. I do miss top sheets, though. The duvet is really the only blanket aside form the bottom sheet, so there’s actually nothing attached at the bottom of the bed! I was a little disappointed not to be able to sleep in the whole big bed, though…the crack in the middle sort of puts a damper in that!

Well, I think those are the most notable gadgets I can think of at the moment. Hope you’ve enjoyed them; I know I do! If you’ve ever found things like this during you’re time abroad, I’d be interested to hear about them!

Deine,

N*

  



Let Them Eat Fish!

15. Januar 2011

Long, long ago I promised an update on what it’s like to be a vegetarian in German. Here’s the skinny: Definitely doable, albeit periodically frustrating.

Here’s why:

1. Most traditional German food involves meat and some kind of gravy with potatoes, dumplings, or the like, or it involves some kind of sausage. Of course, there are many other things to try, but I do think it’s a shame that it’s very difficult for me to bond with people here over their favorite meals. Food ties us together in so many ways, so it’s a shame to miss out on part of that aspect of the culture.

2. Right now, being a veggie in Germany is like being a veggie in the U.S. about ten years ago. (Granted it is not always easy in the U.S., but certain steps forward have been made). Many people’s first reaction is to try to feed me fish. I know that it’s meant well, so I’m not offended, but I am not a pescatarian, so I don’t actually eat fish, and I also happen to be allergic to seafood. Oy. Try explaining that in German three times fast. Sometimes people also don’t realize that I also can’t eat broth made with meat products – an honest mistake – but then they feel badly and I feel badly, plus I don’t like to put anyone out, so it just turns into an awkward.

3. And possibly the worst: “Well, you can eat X because you can’t eat Y, too…but you could…” I find this distressing. I’ve never asked anyone to be veggie. I’m not even asking for a special meal; there have been occasions where I’ve offered to eat bread and cheese. All I want is for everyone to enjoy a meal together, whatever we have to do to make that work, so please, don’t try to change my beliefs without knowing my reasons. I promise to respect yours.

Thankfully I have a very understanding network in Dessau, not to mention that I mostly cook just for myself, so in everyday situations, it’s really not a problem. Most people are really flexible and helpful, and my German friends all seem to enjoy my recipes. I even got a veggie cookbook from the English teachers at school for my birthday, which I’m looking forward to using when I get back to the U.S. I’ll just have to get fast at metric-to-English conversions!

Deine,
N*

Let It Snow!

*Even if it’s a little late in coming, my blog wouldn’t be complete without a post about German Christmas!

December 15, 2010


Since the week of Thanksgiving, winter has set in for good. Last week the temperature dipped below 10°F and settled there. We also received a hefty helping of snow – unusual for this early in the winter (December).

Although it’s milder this week, I’m still aware of my first real winter experience in four years. Sure, I visited Colorado winter over my breaks, but let’s face it, South Carolina, where I went to university, isn’t exactly known for its frigid temperatures, so it’s been awhile since I’ve actually had to LIVE winter. Huh. I like winter, and I don’t particularly mind the cold. Walking everywhere through the slush isn’t particularly thrilling, and neither is standing in a freezing train station waiting for the trains to overcome the railway chaos that descends the moment the first flakes start sticking to the steely tracks.

All in all, I really don’t mind most of the previously mentioned winter qualms, but there is one thing that would make it all worth it, if I really had a problem with winter: Weihnachtsmärkte! For those sad souls who are unfamiliar with the German Christmas Market, prepare to be awed. Almost every German city and town has at least one Christmas Market and the larger ones often last the whole Advent season. Big deal, you say? But going to the Christmas Market is THE activity for this time of year. In the evening the town squares transform into veritable fairylands and the hum of laughter and joyous voices fill the twinkling rows of stand keepers peddling their wares.


Our Pyramid at home in Colorado

Germany is known for its handmade wooden crafts: ornaments, pyramids (wooden centerpiece contraptions which spin with the help of candles hitting the fan blades attached to the top of the spinning mechanism) and Schippbogen (semi-circle, wooden-carved candle holders, which many Germans display in the windows in the evening during the Advent season). You can also find nutcrackers and smokers (little wooden men with hollow bellies for incense, a hole making a droll open mouth from which a pipe protrudes, so they appear to be smoking…hence their name). Baskets woven from chestnut-colored branches are also a traditional craft and are sold frequently. Many German Christmas stars, folded intricately to create paper ornaments and decorations, are also to be found.

So, perhaps you can imagine that someone who comes from a family that loves these types of decorations, Weihnachtsmärkte are a Mecca of all things fascinating, beautiful and easily giftable. They are also the scene of a sizeable sum of money *ahem* leaving *ahem* my purse.

All this, and I haven’t even mentioned the food yet. It might be easier just to make a list, since these are not items commonly known in the U.S.:

1. Lebkuchen – Soft, gingery cookies with lots of flavor from Christmas spices like cinnamon, ginger and cloves, which are then coated with either a clear sugar glaze or a thin layer of chocolate. Mom and I made them one year from a traditional recipe and worked all day for almost 200 cookies. They are complicated, but well-worth the effort. Here, though, I just get to enjoy the goodness. Aldi sells 7 cookies for €0.89!

2. Stollen – A dessert bread with raisins (and sometimes other candied fruit) and marzipan inside, coated with a snowy dusting of powdered sugar. So yummy. And marzipan in chocolate is also good, by the way. I love almond flavor, so I should’ve known marzipan would really grow on me! (*Note to Michelle about the marzipan pig incident of 2010…those pigs did NOT taste good!...marzipan revisited is much better!)

3. Creppelchen – This is market food. It’s basically just cubed inch, friend pieces of dough covered with powdered sugar, but they taste like the homemade French Beignets. For a while my family was making these “doughnuts” a couple times a year. *On a related note: Fair food in Germany is so much better than in the U.S. It’s definitely not healthy, but it tastes real, instead of tasting just like a fried grease mess.*

4. Gebrannte Mandeln – Toasted almonds covered in caramelized cinnamon-sugary goodness. Often they’re still hot when you buy them, so they’re both tasty and functional as a handwarmer.

5. Glühwein – Hot red wine with lots of spices in it. I guess the English equivalent would be mulled wine. If wine is not so your thing, they also have Glühpunsch.

My Adventskranz

All in all, if I have to be away from home during December, at least I’m somewhere where they really do Christmas right! The lady I rent from even brought me up an Adventskranz (Advent wreath), so I could burn a candle each Sunday of Advent, adding one each week, until they were all lit for the fourth Advent.  Here's to starting new traditions.

Deine,

N*