A caveat before I begin- If you don't want to read a long and emotional post about me being sad, then stop reading right now.
If you saw my Facebook post yesterday, then you're aware that my phone got stolen on Saturday night when I was out in Cologne. This weekend is Karneval- and Cologne is German equivalent of New Orleans from Thursday through Tuesday. Rae and I went out in Münster on Thursday night for Weibefastnacht, and it was just an insane party the entire night. Friday was a day of recovery (and I had to work) and then the plan was to head down to Cologne on Saturday and come back to Münster on Tuesday (Cologne is two hours away on the train, but it's in Nordrhein-Westfalen, so we can travel there for free with semester tickets, which is super clutch). Some friends, Bruce and JJ, had splurged for a hotel room for the weekend and they invited Yishi and I to crash with them on Saturday night, since we figured we'd be out for most of the night anyways.
The night honestly started our great- we all got dressed up and there was loads and loads of glitter. We ended up spending most of the night at a bar/club, and lucked out by getting a booth right off of the dance floor. I was texting a bunch while we were out, so I had my phone sitting on the table, along with all of our purses and jackets and drinks. All of us were up and down, either to dance or to go to the bar, and sometime during those points while I was up, the phone was taken from the table. Once I realized it was gone, I searched everywhere--under the table, in all the seats, and at every other table-- we tried calling it but it was already off (and therefore, tracking it via Find My Phone didn't work) but it was still at over 50% battery in the middle of the night, meaning someone took it and turned it off because it wouldn't have died that fast. Unfortunately though, there's a sim-lock on it as well as a passcode lock that's gotta be entered to turn on the phone- so even if someone wanted to get it back to me (quite unlikely), they wouldn't be able to turn it off. As we got ready to leave the club, I literally went up to every person still there and asked if they had found an iPhone.
It's the hottest phone on the market right now, so I'm not surprised it was stolen. I just feel like such shit because it was a Christmas present- my mom bought it unlocked and paid even more for insurance to send it over here and then I had to pay 90 Euro at the customs office to get it- and I had it for a grand total of three weeks. It's not even a case of- oh, well I just need to be more careful next time, because I am always so careful with my phone. Even with iPhone back home, I always checked like ten times before going anywhere or getting off a bus or leaving somewhere that I had it, and would almost have heart attacks when I thought I had misplaced it.
I think the situation is exacerbated because I have honestly never lost anything in my life. Or had anything stolen in my life. Sometimes I'll misplace a pair of pants and never see them again, or leave a book on a bus or something- but I guess I've been quite fortunate that I've never had anything stolen, and I'm always wicked responsible with my things so I make sure not to lose them.
I know I'm sometimes naive, and people judge me for my really optimistic view of humanity and seeing the goodness in people, and I am quite aware that I really am too trusting of people, so it just sucks that this would happen. Some people just suck. If I had found a phone, I would try super hard to get it back to the person. Even when we were standing in line to get into the first bar, there was a five euro cover and the guy in front of me turned around and told me his girlfriend was inside and had his wallet and asked if I could pay for him, so I did, and literally two minutes after we walked in, he ran right up to me and gave me five euros and a beer. I also realize that I can't just blame someone for taking the phone- yes, I was a bit drunk and my situational awareness was not at its peak, but as I said, I am always so careful with that stupid phone, and I've been in much worse states and haven't lost it.
When we left the club I just started hysterically sobbing and couldn't stop- we got back to the hotel and I just sat in the bathtub for probably two hours sobbing- I feel so bad for Yishi, Bruce, and JJ having to listen to me (although Yishi did sit with me and helped calm me down). We got up and somewhat pulled ourselves together the next day, checked out, and then went on search for some food, and then late afternoon we all headed back home. As I said, I was supposed to stay til Tuesday because today (Monday) is the biggest day of celebrations in Cologne, with tons of parades and day drinking and costumes and craziness, and even all the Münster people headed down this morning, but I just couldn't justify celebrating when I feel like such emotional shit.
If you're still reading, I'm sure you're thinking something like, oh my goodness it's just a phone! And all my friends have tried calming me down saying at least I didn't lose my wallet or suffer any physical harm or anything. As my mom said, a phone is completely replaceable, but that's why I titled this post "more than a phone."
Even before I had the 5, I still had my 4 over here which I could use via wifi and still iMessage with everyone, and now that I don't have anything, I am just so emotional as I realize how much that tiny little contraption has helped me so easily keep in touch with everyone I love and miss back home, and as I was sitting on the train home yesterday evening, despite being surrounded by people, I had never felt more alone. And these waves of emotions just continued to hit me like bricks to the gut- and I realized how I'm just wicked tired of Germany and am just kind of counting down the months until I can go home.
Germany really is a great country, but it's just so crowded and there's so many people and sometimes I honestly just miss the superficial niceness of America. Münster is a great city and I really like my school and the teachers with whom I work and I've met some really great people, but I'm just so bored all the time. I work barely ten hours a week, and even with French class and going to the gym nearly every day, I just can't find enough things to fill my time. I feel like while I'm over here, I'm just living this life of mediocrity and have nothing to aim for or nothing to work for (hence why I signed up for a half marathon, so there was at least something to build up to) and then I applied to grad programs, and got in- so now that whole process is done.
I still remember the first couple weeks back in September when I was settling in and becoming acclimated to my new life (SAP, as Mark calls it- "Sabrina Adjustment Period") and I remember one night just laying in my bed and nearly crying thinking how the hell I was going to last until the next summer over here when I missed everyone back home so much, and feeling as if I was literally trapped in Germany.
If you want to punch me in the face right now, I completely understand- but hey, that's why I issued that caveat in the first sentence. I know that I'm basically living the life over here- the German and American governments are paying me to live in Germany and do next to no work- but that's just not the kind of person I am. And maybe that's the American in me- I gain joy from surrounding myself with those whom I love and those who love me back and just joy from working hard. And there's just a dearth of in my life in Germany.
It comes in waves of course, but for the most part, I'm lonely so much of the time. And that little iPhone, is a technological innovation that makes the loneliness so much easier. Sometimes I feel pathetic when I think about how much I rely on my friends to feel happy, and being able to talk to them, and sometimes wish I could be more independent-- I know some people here who don't even have phones and rarely go on Facebook and can go long stretches of time without keeping up with people, but then I have to remind myself that everyone is different. If I'm feeling like a weaker person because I'd rather maintain my relationships with people despite being 5,000 and more miles away from most of them, then I don't think that's so bad. Part of my experience at BC taught me that I'd rather have love in my life than to go globe-trotting and have adventures and be super independent and just do my own thing, as so many 20-somethings are prone to do. Yes, the phone is a material object, but it's an object that eases the process of maintaining all of my relationships, and because of that, it's a good worth it to me that when I go home next week, I'm going to get a new one.
My trip home in now less than a week honestly couldn't come soon enough- I really just need a respite- albeit a very short and busy one, but I'm just ready for a break from Germany.
Monday, February 11, 2013
Tuesday, February 5, 2013
A Weird Day
Not weird bad...just weird notable I guess. I was thinking how I hadn't written in almost two weeks, and had the urge to write...although be warned- I really don't have a lot to say. This will mostly just be garrulous rambling. When I wrote my blog two years ago during my semester abroad, I always had updates about all of my grand adventures and the nuances of living in a foreign country. This time around, as I've frequently mentioned, is a much different experience, which I guess is why my posts are usually more on the reflective side than the descriptive side.
ANYWAYS. Today. Had to wake up at 7 because I had to sub for the 6th graders in first period. I see these kids at least three hours a week, and team-teach with their teacher and sometimes have them by myself, so approaching five months at the school now, we know each other pretty well. That doesn't mean they don't give me a hard time when I'm subbing though, haha. They weren't terrible today, just a bit rowdy and always pretending like they don't understand me when I speak English, but the lesson was fine. One of the kids though is a bit of a trouble-maker and kept running around and stealing the other kids' pencil cases and backpacks and such, and then he kept drawing penises on the board and making inappropriate hand gestures. These kids are very aware of sex, which I am always surprised about, but then when I think about it, I guess 6th grade was when I started becoming aware of sex, and that was about the age when boys didn't have cooties anymore. I remember the boy I had the biggest crush on, and I still remember one day during recess, sitting under the playground jungle gym, some of the kids coming up and making that gesture and finding out that day what it meant! Working in a school full of students from ages ten to eighteen has re-acquainted me with youth after living in a college bubble for the last four years and basically only interacting with professors and other college kids my age.
I only had that one lesson today though, so since it was only 9 I headed to the gym and tried out a class called "Hot Iron" which is actually exactly the same as the BodyPump class I would go to at the gym at home- so it was cool to see things transferring across continents! Afterwards, I was heading back to the locker room and I passed Kai, the trainer I had my initial session with (when you join, you meet with a trainer to establish a plan and figure out where you stand health and strength wise) and he said "Hi, how are you!?" and I said "Hi" back and kept walking and he stopped and said "Is everything okay?" and I was like, "Yeah...." and realized, oh! This is not America, where "Hi, how are you?" is a greeting, not actually a question...This is Germany, where, when you ask someone how they are, you're actually expecting an answer. So there was a nice cultural exchange.
And then another weird and awkward encounter. I decided to shower at the gym today instead of at home since I had so much time and was going to go in the sauna anyways. Well, true to the stereotype, Germans love being naked-- I've accepted it but am still not yet totally comfortable with it. Well, I was in the big shower room, and another lady came in and rinsed off and then left, and then I left about five minutes after. Stepped out of the shower room, and my towel was nowhere to be seen. I had noticed another red towel on the bench outside, which was also gone, but realized that this lady must've thought my red towel was her red towel. Shiiiiit. So I had to face my naked fears, and you know, fears of speaking to strangers in German, and go up to this lady and ask her if she had taken my towel. She realized she had, and was soooooo apologetic, I realized that she must've felt more awkward than myself! But the problem was solved and the awkwardness quickly passed- hurray!
Another weird part of today was the weather. Here's a recap:
Woke up at 7, got to school at 7:40.... dark and grey sky.
Teaching 8-9....torrential downpours.
Gym 9:15-12....blue sky emerging with some rays if sun.
12:15-2....heavy snow.
2-3:30....more blue skies emerging with some intermittent sun.
3:30-4:30....sleeting and raining and snowing and hailing.
5-now... it's just been grey skies again and now it's dark.
A lot of us Fulbrighters are hitting the mid-grant blues and restlessness, and February is usually the worst month of the year anyways- that awkward short time between winter and the start of spring, so I'm just waiting for this month to pass until we get to March and some great traveling to look forward to!
Speaking of February and traveling though... some news! I will be traveling home to AMURRRICAH on Sunday, February 17 until the evening of Monday the 25th. It was completely unexpected and it's just starting to sink in.
Why, you ask? Well if you haven't heard from me personally or seen my Facebook post, I got into Grad School! Which also, was completely unexpected. I applied to three graduate schools for education- Boston University, University of Virginia (ranked number 8 for my program and in-statue tuition), and Peabody College at Vanderbilt University (ranked number 1). BU's deadline was January 15th so I haven't heard back yet, and UVA's deadline isn't until next week so I won't be hearing back for while, and Vandy's deadline was December 31st, but they said I could still apply so I sent in my app on January 9th or so, but my recs and transcript and scores weren't even in until the next week, and then last Monday (two weeks after submitting my part of the application) I was skyping with my mom and received a generic email congratulating me on "an acceptance" and inviting me to a Visitation Day.
Ummm....did this mean I had been admitted? Because I hadn't heard anything. I emailed them back asking exactly this, and heard back from the assistant director that yes, in fact, I had been admitted! So there it was- my anticlimactic admittance to the top-ranked grad school in the country.
I had the whole next day to think about it and realized that it probably would actually be a good idea to attend the Visitation Day. If I had gone home for the holidays, another visit would be out of the question, but since I didn't go home, and have ultimately regretted that decision because I really miss America and home and such, mom and I both decided it was actually a pretty good idea. So I'll be home for a few days and then will drive down to Nashville (about an eight hour drive from my house) and will be able to stay with my friend Katie from BC who just moved to Nashville, and I'll be able to see the school, about which I've heard nothing but wonderful things.
Vandy is suuuuper expensive, and I won't find out if I've been granted any merit-aid until the end of the month, and it would make no sense to go there over UVA since I'm only going to grad school for teaching, but I can't say yes or no to a school I've never seen, and a city I've never seen, with the exception of a three-day visit back in 1998 when mom and I drove across the country from California to move back to Virginia.
I've been talking about this concept and idea with Amanda quite a bit over the past few months-- the notion and realization that our whole group of friends is actually realistically not going to end up back in Boston after this year, unlike how we thought things would shape out. I applied to BU because I couldn't let myself not apply to a school in Boston (I unfortunately missed the Harvard deadline), but I would pick Vandy or UVA above BU.
I keep thinking how many good things there would be about going to UVA- being less than two hours away from home, being close to friends and family I've had for decades, being close to my mom again and the opportunity to restore our relationship to what it used to be, and of course, going to school in beautiful Charlottesville. Also, I was so close to going to UVA for undergrad, but picked BC over it because I wanted to experience somewhere new. I don't regret that decision one bit, and found a true love in a city and my community at BC, but I've always had a soft spot and been fond of UVA- so how cool would it be to go there for grad school?!
But then there's the other part of me... It's the same part of me that picked BC because I wanted to experience a new place and new people, and it's the same part of me that told myself I would run the Boston Marathon in 2012, and that successfully did so. Vanderbilt's education school has been ranked number one for the last four years-- and I knowwww rankings are really not a huge deal, but there is something attractive about that.
I was never very fit or athletic in my life, and after gaining the freshman 15 after my first year at BC, I had a rude awakening and realized I needed to make some changes-- I needed to start eating healthier and exercising. It was a long process, but four years later, I confidently consider myself very healthy and very fit and quite athletic. I remember my freshman year self watching the runners in the Boston Marathon in 2009 and thinking how awesome it would be to run a marathon. This was myself that had never run at all, and had always had trouble running even for lacrosse and basketball back in freshman year of high school. By the time senior year of BC came around, I knew that I wanted to train for the marathon- and when I told all my friends, a lot of them assumed it was another Sabrina phase and I'd never actually do it, but come April 16, 2012- I finished those 26.2 miles from Hopkinton to Copley Square in the 90 degree heat (with my dear friend, Steph!) It was honestly the greatest thing I've ever accomplished, and those four months of intense training showed me just how amazing humans can be and just how much we're capable of. I've been training for a half marathon (which I'm actually now going to miss because I will now be in Nashville on the day of it, but I'll do another one in April!) and I almost feel unfulfilled, knowing that I've already done the holy grail of marathons, and this is just a half. (Another attractive quality of Nashville- it's got the Country Music Marathon every April- a quite famous marathon which I'd love to run!)
How does this relate to grad school? Well, I got into the number one school and part of me just can't imagine saying no to that. Saying no to all the opportunities I'd have there to explore other facets of education besides teaching. I was always a high-achiever in high school, and kind of forgot about that when I got to BC, because everyone there was so smart, so it was easy to get lost in the crowd. I graduated with honors, but never felt exceptional at all-- and even after being awarded a Fulbright, I still didn't feel that confident with myself and my abilities. This acceptance to Vandy though, is pretty cool. I haven't had such levels of excitement with it that I've had with other achievements because it's been such a quick process-- the process of applying to undergrad was basically two years between visiting schools, taking the SATs, and applying to and waiting to hear from schools. My Fulbright process was nearly eight months between starting the essay writing and hearing the final decision.
Grad school was a completely different story, though... and I am still kind of taken by surprise. I decided to take the GREs at the end of October, I took them December 1st, decided on a teaching program at the end of December, and spent the first week of January glued to my computer completing applications practically a world away. And then at the end of January I heard good news from my reach school.
So, basically a month between deciding on a program and receiving an acceptance. Such speed is quite foreign to me, so I guess it just hasn't sunk in. If you had asked me three months ago if I would go to grad school after Fulbright, I would've said probably not, and if you had asked me four years ago, I would have said absolutely not.
But things change. It's taken a lot to realize this. Especially regarding the fact that I will not be returning to Boston straight away. I already listed all the pros of going to school close to home, but part of me still wants to much to experience a new part of the country. I grew up in DC/NoVA, and although I love it, I don't want to end up there-- I found a place I love in Boston-- I tried the Europe thing and realized I don't want to be here permanently-- but part of me still wants to experience the South/Midwest (Nashville's kind of on the border of them) just to make sure I'm not missing out on anything!
Those are all of running thoughts today and this past week. It has started to sink in that I'll be going home in less than two weeks, but the strangest part will be the fact that I will have to come back here for another 4+ months, and when I meet new people at Visitation Day, I'll be saying that I currently live in Germany... and I'll be wearing weird clothes. Anyways, after all of this reflection, I could end up going to Nashville and not liking it or actually not liking the school, and then there'd be no contest....but I doubt that will happen, and if my doubts are indeed doubts, then I'll have a big decision ahead of me.
ANYWAYS. Today. Had to wake up at 7 because I had to sub for the 6th graders in first period. I see these kids at least three hours a week, and team-teach with their teacher and sometimes have them by myself, so approaching five months at the school now, we know each other pretty well. That doesn't mean they don't give me a hard time when I'm subbing though, haha. They weren't terrible today, just a bit rowdy and always pretending like they don't understand me when I speak English, but the lesson was fine. One of the kids though is a bit of a trouble-maker and kept running around and stealing the other kids' pencil cases and backpacks and such, and then he kept drawing penises on the board and making inappropriate hand gestures. These kids are very aware of sex, which I am always surprised about, but then when I think about it, I guess 6th grade was when I started becoming aware of sex, and that was about the age when boys didn't have cooties anymore. I remember the boy I had the biggest crush on, and I still remember one day during recess, sitting under the playground jungle gym, some of the kids coming up and making that gesture and finding out that day what it meant! Working in a school full of students from ages ten to eighteen has re-acquainted me with youth after living in a college bubble for the last four years and basically only interacting with professors and other college kids my age.
I only had that one lesson today though, so since it was only 9 I headed to the gym and tried out a class called "Hot Iron" which is actually exactly the same as the BodyPump class I would go to at the gym at home- so it was cool to see things transferring across continents! Afterwards, I was heading back to the locker room and I passed Kai, the trainer I had my initial session with (when you join, you meet with a trainer to establish a plan and figure out where you stand health and strength wise) and he said "Hi, how are you!?" and I said "Hi" back and kept walking and he stopped and said "Is everything okay?" and I was like, "Yeah...." and realized, oh! This is not America, where "Hi, how are you?" is a greeting, not actually a question...This is Germany, where, when you ask someone how they are, you're actually expecting an answer. So there was a nice cultural exchange.
And then another weird and awkward encounter. I decided to shower at the gym today instead of at home since I had so much time and was going to go in the sauna anyways. Well, true to the stereotype, Germans love being naked-- I've accepted it but am still not yet totally comfortable with it. Well, I was in the big shower room, and another lady came in and rinsed off and then left, and then I left about five minutes after. Stepped out of the shower room, and my towel was nowhere to be seen. I had noticed another red towel on the bench outside, which was also gone, but realized that this lady must've thought my red towel was her red towel. Shiiiiit. So I had to face my naked fears, and you know, fears of speaking to strangers in German, and go up to this lady and ask her if she had taken my towel. She realized she had, and was soooooo apologetic, I realized that she must've felt more awkward than myself! But the problem was solved and the awkwardness quickly passed- hurray!
Another weird part of today was the weather. Here's a recap:
Woke up at 7, got to school at 7:40.... dark and grey sky.
Teaching 8-9....torrential downpours.
Gym 9:15-12....blue sky emerging with some rays if sun.
12:15-2....heavy snow.
2-3:30....more blue skies emerging with some intermittent sun.
3:30-4:30....sleeting and raining and snowing and hailing.
5-now... it's just been grey skies again and now it's dark.
A lot of us Fulbrighters are hitting the mid-grant blues and restlessness, and February is usually the worst month of the year anyways- that awkward short time between winter and the start of spring, so I'm just waiting for this month to pass until we get to March and some great traveling to look forward to!
Speaking of February and traveling though... some news! I will be traveling home to AMURRRICAH on Sunday, February 17 until the evening of Monday the 25th. It was completely unexpected and it's just starting to sink in.
Why, you ask? Well if you haven't heard from me personally or seen my Facebook post, I got into Grad School! Which also, was completely unexpected. I applied to three graduate schools for education- Boston University, University of Virginia (ranked number 8 for my program and in-statue tuition), and Peabody College at Vanderbilt University (ranked number 1). BU's deadline was January 15th so I haven't heard back yet, and UVA's deadline isn't until next week so I won't be hearing back for while, and Vandy's deadline was December 31st, but they said I could still apply so I sent in my app on January 9th or so, but my recs and transcript and scores weren't even in until the next week, and then last Monday (two weeks after submitting my part of the application) I was skyping with my mom and received a generic email congratulating me on "an acceptance" and inviting me to a Visitation Day.
Ummm....did this mean I had been admitted? Because I hadn't heard anything. I emailed them back asking exactly this, and heard back from the assistant director that yes, in fact, I had been admitted! So there it was- my anticlimactic admittance to the top-ranked grad school in the country.
I had the whole next day to think about it and realized that it probably would actually be a good idea to attend the Visitation Day. If I had gone home for the holidays, another visit would be out of the question, but since I didn't go home, and have ultimately regretted that decision because I really miss America and home and such, mom and I both decided it was actually a pretty good idea. So I'll be home for a few days and then will drive down to Nashville (about an eight hour drive from my house) and will be able to stay with my friend Katie from BC who just moved to Nashville, and I'll be able to see the school, about which I've heard nothing but wonderful things.
Vandy is suuuuper expensive, and I won't find out if I've been granted any merit-aid until the end of the month, and it would make no sense to go there over UVA since I'm only going to grad school for teaching, but I can't say yes or no to a school I've never seen, and a city I've never seen, with the exception of a three-day visit back in 1998 when mom and I drove across the country from California to move back to Virginia.
I've been talking about this concept and idea with Amanda quite a bit over the past few months-- the notion and realization that our whole group of friends is actually realistically not going to end up back in Boston after this year, unlike how we thought things would shape out. I applied to BU because I couldn't let myself not apply to a school in Boston (I unfortunately missed the Harvard deadline), but I would pick Vandy or UVA above BU.
I keep thinking how many good things there would be about going to UVA- being less than two hours away from home, being close to friends and family I've had for decades, being close to my mom again and the opportunity to restore our relationship to what it used to be, and of course, going to school in beautiful Charlottesville. Also, I was so close to going to UVA for undergrad, but picked BC over it because I wanted to experience somewhere new. I don't regret that decision one bit, and found a true love in a city and my community at BC, but I've always had a soft spot and been fond of UVA- so how cool would it be to go there for grad school?!
But then there's the other part of me... It's the same part of me that picked BC because I wanted to experience a new place and new people, and it's the same part of me that told myself I would run the Boston Marathon in 2012, and that successfully did so. Vanderbilt's education school has been ranked number one for the last four years-- and I knowwww rankings are really not a huge deal, but there is something attractive about that.
I was never very fit or athletic in my life, and after gaining the freshman 15 after my first year at BC, I had a rude awakening and realized I needed to make some changes-- I needed to start eating healthier and exercising. It was a long process, but four years later, I confidently consider myself very healthy and very fit and quite athletic. I remember my freshman year self watching the runners in the Boston Marathon in 2009 and thinking how awesome it would be to run a marathon. This was myself that had never run at all, and had always had trouble running even for lacrosse and basketball back in freshman year of high school. By the time senior year of BC came around, I knew that I wanted to train for the marathon- and when I told all my friends, a lot of them assumed it was another Sabrina phase and I'd never actually do it, but come April 16, 2012- I finished those 26.2 miles from Hopkinton to Copley Square in the 90 degree heat (with my dear friend, Steph!) It was honestly the greatest thing I've ever accomplished, and those four months of intense training showed me just how amazing humans can be and just how much we're capable of. I've been training for a half marathon (which I'm actually now going to miss because I will now be in Nashville on the day of it, but I'll do another one in April!) and I almost feel unfulfilled, knowing that I've already done the holy grail of marathons, and this is just a half. (Another attractive quality of Nashville- it's got the Country Music Marathon every April- a quite famous marathon which I'd love to run!)
How does this relate to grad school? Well, I got into the number one school and part of me just can't imagine saying no to that. Saying no to all the opportunities I'd have there to explore other facets of education besides teaching. I was always a high-achiever in high school, and kind of forgot about that when I got to BC, because everyone there was so smart, so it was easy to get lost in the crowd. I graduated with honors, but never felt exceptional at all-- and even after being awarded a Fulbright, I still didn't feel that confident with myself and my abilities. This acceptance to Vandy though, is pretty cool. I haven't had such levels of excitement with it that I've had with other achievements because it's been such a quick process-- the process of applying to undergrad was basically two years between visiting schools, taking the SATs, and applying to and waiting to hear from schools. My Fulbright process was nearly eight months between starting the essay writing and hearing the final decision.
Grad school was a completely different story, though... and I am still kind of taken by surprise. I decided to take the GREs at the end of October, I took them December 1st, decided on a teaching program at the end of December, and spent the first week of January glued to my computer completing applications practically a world away. And then at the end of January I heard good news from my reach school.
So, basically a month between deciding on a program and receiving an acceptance. Such speed is quite foreign to me, so I guess it just hasn't sunk in. If you had asked me three months ago if I would go to grad school after Fulbright, I would've said probably not, and if you had asked me four years ago, I would have said absolutely not.
But things change. It's taken a lot to realize this. Especially regarding the fact that I will not be returning to Boston straight away. I already listed all the pros of going to school close to home, but part of me still wants to much to experience a new part of the country. I grew up in DC/NoVA, and although I love it, I don't want to end up there-- I found a place I love in Boston-- I tried the Europe thing and realized I don't want to be here permanently-- but part of me still wants to experience the South/Midwest (Nashville's kind of on the border of them) just to make sure I'm not missing out on anything!
Those are all of running thoughts today and this past week. It has started to sink in that I'll be going home in less than two weeks, but the strangest part will be the fact that I will have to come back here for another 4+ months, and when I meet new people at Visitation Day, I'll be saying that I currently live in Germany... and I'll be wearing weird clothes. Anyways, after all of this reflection, I could end up going to Nashville and not liking it or actually not liking the school, and then there'd be no contest....but I doubt that will happen, and if my doubts are indeed doubts, then I'll have a big decision ahead of me.
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
For the Record…It’s wicked hard to ride a bike in the snow
I have learned this and a few other things since the winter
weather has plagued Germany over the last few weeks. Before the New Year, Münster was hit only with a few inches
and a couple other dustings—snowfalls that brought cheer to the faces of
children and adults alike, creating quite picturesque scenes for the Christmas
Markets.
2013 started out actually quite warm, but also quite
dark. There was a cloud covering
over the entire region that blocked any rays of sunshine, but also blocked any
extreme temperatures. It remained
in the high 40s no matter what time of day, which was quite pleasant despite
the lack of sun. A couple weeks
into January, Münster received its first rays of sunshine—pedestrians stopped
in their tracks to stare up and squint their eyes at the foreign light.
Unfortunately though, with the sunshine came the drop of
about twenty degrees in temperatures and snowfall upon snowfall upon
snowfall. Having spent the last
four years in Boston, I am no stranger to extreme snowfalls and quite cold
winters, but it’s getting a little ridiculous here. At BC, we were quite spoiled during the winter, because we
had amazing snow services that cleared up the paths right away (and actually
last winter, we barely got any snow at all).
Münster on the other hand, does not have such services. The main roads get plowed, but all of
the side roads remain covered in a brown and disgusting slushy mess. I’ve mentioned that Münster is the
German capital of bikes, so the bike lanes remain clear for the most part, but
because for about a week, it snowed every day (and the lack of sunlight
prevented any of it from melting, along with the sub-freezing temperatures) the
bike lanes have been reduced to tracks not much wider than the bike tire
itself. Luckily, my commute to
school is less than ten minutes via bike, mostly along one main road, so I
haven’t had too many problems, but it’s still quite a pain.
 |
| Aasee iced over and covered with snow |
 |
| But of course the snow can be quite pretty |
My iPhone 5 finally arrived from the States last week but
because the value was so much, I had to go to the customs office to retrieve
it. This office was in the
outskirts of the city where all the factories and industries are (a part of the
city I didn’t even know existed!)
The buses didn’t go there, so I decided to take my bike…the day after it
snowed half a foot. This was the
day I learned you can’t ride a bike on snow. Once the tire touches the slush, it literally just slips out
from under you—so I basically felt like I was trekking through the Arctic
Tundra just to retrieve my freakin’ phone.
 |
| You all can tell I made a pretty big change when deciding on a new case... |
I don’t hate snow but I’m definitely not a fan of it, and
it’s starting to get pretty annoying, but I just keep telling myself that as we
approach the end of January, the worst of it is hopefully over—already noticing
the days getting longer anyhow!
Because of this incessant snowfall though, I had to take
matters into my own hands and join a gym because I couldn’t continue training
if the weather was going to remain so cold and unpredictable. My roommate goes to the gym next door
but it’s quite expensive which is why I didn’t join when I first moved here,
but I decided to suck it up and just spend the fifty euro per month. It’s quite a nice gym and as I said, a
three minute walk next door, so I never have an excuse not to go.
I’ve been a member for a week now and am so happy with my
decision to join. I can run
whenever I need to, rather than having to be a slave to the weather, and I can
go to spinning and body fit classes, as well as finally use weights again. I haven’t been a member of a gym since
I was at BC, because I decided not to pay to use the Plex over the summer, and
I forgot how much I love it.
Working out again combined with drinking less has really put
this year off to a positive start.
I am getting over a cold that I caught this weekend, but otherwise, I
just feel absolutely fantastic and don’t have an irresistible urge to consume
chocolate every second of every day.
Joining the gym has also helped me integrate more into
German language and Germany itself.
Around November and December I wasn’t really speaking much German at all
and only hanging out with English speakers, so one of my New Year’s Resolutions
was to be involved in more German, no matter what it was. I’ve been speaking more German at
school actually, and chatting with my roommate more (especially since he helped
me with the process of joining the gym) and now I’m surrounded by Germans
speaking German at the gym. Even
when I run on the treadmill (Laufband),
there are multiple televisions in front of me broadcasting German news
headlines.
As part of my membership, I have to do this Check-Up
appointment, where I meet with a trainer and get a card for workouts and my
body type and all that jazz. What
I find most interesting about sports and activity between Americans and Germans
(and Europeans in general) is that Germans love playing sports together. It seems everyone is involved in some
kind of sport, no matter what age and no matter what level, but “working out”
is not as popular. This weekend I
met another assistant from Ireland and he was telling me how he really wants to
travel to America especially because working out is like a culture there. Those were his exact words. And I stopped to think about it and
realized he makes a valid point. I
don’t have a lot of friends that are involved in actual sports teams or clubs,
everyone just works out at the gym or runs. Americans are very independent in their fitness endeavors,
whereas Germans are much more social.
That came up during my appointment today, because the trainer was asking
me what kind of sports I did, and I had to explain how I don’t actually play
any sports, but work out a ton, and run five times a week. He didn’t really understand that I
didn’t actually play sports, but that
I still considered myself quite fit and active because of all the running I do.
Just another example of an interesting cultural difference!
To end, here’s a preview of what I’ll be donning for
Karvenal celebrations in a few weeks!
Friday, January 11, 2013
No Pain No Gain
One of the hardest things to do is to wake up on a frigid winter morning, warm and snuggly in your covers, and put on your running gear and go out and do your run in the freezing temps. I think it's worth it though, because it's soooo much easier to run in the cold than in the heat. In the summer it's so easy to throw on a tank and shorts, tie up your shoes, and hit the path, but in the July heat, after only a few minutes it becomes nearly impossible to breathe and you end up as just a big puddle of sweat by the end. Boston was unusually hot this summer, which was part of the reason I was never able to get up to the double digits in miles on my runs....that and I was just too lazy and my work schedule made it so it was still too hot to run when I got home, and I didn't like having to wait until seven or eight for the temps to drop.
I've been training for a half marathon since November-- the run isn't until February 24th so I actually started training quite early and after today's run, I'm super ahead of the training schedule which is super exciting. But I had the desire to blog because I just had my best run since before the marathon last April. I woke up this morning, luckily to no rain, but to 0 degrees (been trying to adapt to Celsius) and took an unnecessary amount of time to get all my under armor gear on. Stretched up a bit and started my run and that's the funny thing about running--and those of you who run will know what I'm talking about--you can never predict when you'll have a great run. I've had some of my best runs the day after a night out when I woke up with a hangover or sometimes when I've barely eaten anything. I didn't have high hopes for today, considering I was supposed to log nine, and the package my mom sent over a month ago with my distance shoes in it STILL hasn't arrived and my current shoes are killing my feet...But I didn't run into any problems (haha, it's like a pun....run into any problems...get it? Cause I was running......)
Anyways, this blog isn't even gonna mean much to anyone unless you're a runner and you've had a long run where it hit five miles and you were still feeling great...hit eight miles and still feeling on top of the world...hit ten...and you're thinking of all the opportunities ahead of you and all the runs you're gonna do. It's hard to explain, but it's a feeling of euphoria mixed with endorphins that may be the best feeling in the world. I didn't hit the wall until just after ten and thought about trugging through another three or so but was in sooooo much pain. So I stopped when my playlist ended and OMG COULD NOT MOVE MY LEGS WERE SO STIFF. And the freezing temps hit me like jumping into a frozen lake.
Despite all this pain though, it was such an amazing feeling and made me remember why I love to run. Also made me think back to the Metabolic Effect class Mollie and I would go to-- a short thirty minute intensive workout with Ken, who was wicked scary and yelled at us and sometimes he would yell "NO PAIN! NO GAIN!" It actually worked though- thinking of that truth...combined with our fear of him coming over to yell at us made us work super hard through the entire class. And as I hobble around my apartment, barely able to move my joints, I gotta remember that.
That's how I feel now. I'm already super healthy and in-shape, but I do still tend to drink like a college student, so for the next few months, or maybe even for the rest of my time in Germany, I want to get super healthy and in even better shape, because there will be no other point in my life when I have this much time to do so. It's true I don't have as many resources here as I do at home, like a gym where I can go to spinning classes, cross-train, do weights, and run on the treadmill if it's raining (whereas here, I am unfortunately a slave to the weather), but I also don't have the distractions, schoolwork, and FOMO when people go out and I want to go with them. So in the end, it evens out.
So here's to 2013! I think it's gonna be a great year for blazin' the trails!
I've been training for a half marathon since November-- the run isn't until February 24th so I actually started training quite early and after today's run, I'm super ahead of the training schedule which is super exciting. But I had the desire to blog because I just had my best run since before the marathon last April. I woke up this morning, luckily to no rain, but to 0 degrees (been trying to adapt to Celsius) and took an unnecessary amount of time to get all my under armor gear on. Stretched up a bit and started my run and that's the funny thing about running--and those of you who run will know what I'm talking about--you can never predict when you'll have a great run. I've had some of my best runs the day after a night out when I woke up with a hangover or sometimes when I've barely eaten anything. I didn't have high hopes for today, considering I was supposed to log nine, and the package my mom sent over a month ago with my distance shoes in it STILL hasn't arrived and my current shoes are killing my feet...But I didn't run into any problems (haha, it's like a pun....run into any problems...get it? Cause I was running......)
Anyways, this blog isn't even gonna mean much to anyone unless you're a runner and you've had a long run where it hit five miles and you were still feeling great...hit eight miles and still feeling on top of the world...hit ten...and you're thinking of all the opportunities ahead of you and all the runs you're gonna do. It's hard to explain, but it's a feeling of euphoria mixed with endorphins that may be the best feeling in the world. I didn't hit the wall until just after ten and thought about trugging through another three or so but was in sooooo much pain. So I stopped when my playlist ended and OMG COULD NOT MOVE MY LEGS WERE SO STIFF. And the freezing temps hit me like jumping into a frozen lake.
Despite all this pain though, it was such an amazing feeling and made me remember why I love to run. Also made me think back to the Metabolic Effect class Mollie and I would go to-- a short thirty minute intensive workout with Ken, who was wicked scary and yelled at us and sometimes he would yell "NO PAIN! NO GAIN!" It actually worked though- thinking of that truth...combined with our fear of him coming over to yell at us made us work super hard through the entire class. And as I hobble around my apartment, barely able to move my joints, I gotta remember that.
That's how I feel now. I'm already super healthy and in-shape, but I do still tend to drink like a college student, so for the next few months, or maybe even for the rest of my time in Germany, I want to get super healthy and in even better shape, because there will be no other point in my life when I have this much time to do so. It's true I don't have as many resources here as I do at home, like a gym where I can go to spinning classes, cross-train, do weights, and run on the treadmill if it's raining (whereas here, I am unfortunately a slave to the weather), but I also don't have the distractions, schoolwork, and FOMO when people go out and I want to go with them. So in the end, it evens out.
So here's to 2013! I think it's gonna be a great year for blazin' the trails!
Tuesday, January 8, 2013
Never Make Decisions After 10pm
There were a number of times during senior year when Amanda and I would be laying in our beds chatting into the wee hours of the night or singing along to Mumford and Celine. Sometimes we would think up these grand plans of things we were going to do, usually related to our social lives. One night, after proposing something that was probably wicked stupid, Amanda pointed out the stupidity of this idea, and told me that we should never make decisions after 10pm. If you think of something you want to do and it's already after 10pm, you should probably sleep on it and wait until the morning and then if it's still a good idea after you have a well-rested mind, then go for it. But nine times out of ten, it's usually not.
Unfortunately I broke this cardinal rule last night. Nothing tragic or really detrimental at all- maybe a bit to my bank account, but the decision leads to more things I really need to think about.
I'm currently in the process of applying to grad schools for a Masters of Education in Secondary Teaching. I've been looking through programs and schools for the last month and had decided on UVA, Vanderbilt, and BC. Since I wasn't certain about my intended program until around Christmas, I've missed deadlines for a lot of schools- luckily UVA isn't until February 15, and Vandy was Dec 31st but has rolling admissions. I emailed BC though, and it took a number of days for someone to get back to me- their deadline had passed but I was told I could still apply, although faculty reviewers were not required to look at my application. I scrambled through the complicated online application that was almost like a game- having to go through different steps and receive clearance to go to the next steps (yet undergraduate uses the Common App I think...weird). Also, BC was the one school out of the ones I was applying to that required recommenders to mail their letters, rather than submitting them online. (Not surprised though, considering the UIS software for choosing classes that's probably from the 1980s...) Finally, the Lynch School didn't even really have the program I wanted, and I wasn't exactly qualified to apply to a different program. It was at this point, sometime after midnight last night, that I realized that it made absolutely no sense to apply to BC.
Problem. I had already paid the $60 application fee and paid $25 to mail them my GRE scores. Decisions I made after 10pm last night.
As I said, nothing crazy bad- just a bit of cash out of the pocket...I'm calling it my alumni gift to BC ;)
Anyways, the realization that I wasn't even applying to BC hit me hard, and at 1am, after working for many hours of the every day for the last week, I was quite emotional. I called up Mark, I sent a dozen emails to my mother, and even more to one of my professors who's been writing recs for me about the 5238956 times I changed my plans within a three hour time frame.
I decided to apply to BU instead....even though it's BU and the price tag is absurdly high, I just couldn't live with myself if I didn't give myself the option to go back to Boston. When I left Boston at the end of the summer, I knew I would be coming back after my year in Germany, whether it was for work or grad school, and now the realization that I will actually probably not be returning to my beloved city is sinking in, and I don't know how to feel.
Vandy's Peabody College is the #1 graduate school for education in the country and I would love to experience Nashville; UVA is also a wonderfully renowned university, and I've always had a soft spot for it since I was very, very close to enrolling there for my undergrad (BC won by just a hair, but it's a decision I have never regretted) and I would also be receiving in-state tuition-- therefore, it would only be logical to enroll at either of those over BU, if offered admission to either.
These programs are only two years, so I could be back in Boston as early as the summer of 2015, but the thought of going somewhere else kind of scares me. Some people take a long time to get over relationships and people....well, I'm taking a long time to get over a place. In the midst of my crisis last night, Mollie told me that I need to stop believing that Boston is the only place I can be happy. She's absolutely right. And I can't figure out if it's just the people there that make me want to go back so much, or the fact that I just spent the four best years of my life there, or what. It's an amalgam of all of those factors (and doesn't help that my mom, originally hailing from the great state of Massachusetts, raised me to love New England and all of its sports teams and culture).
I keep forgetting how young I am, and that I really do have my whole life ahead of me, and that if I go back to Boston now, I will never leave, so maybe I should experience somewhere else. The thought of experiencing Nashville is really exciting- especially since I've recently become obsessed with country music, and it's a similar size city to Boston; it would also be great to experience Charlottesville, after visiting so many times and would be great to be close to all my friends and family--closer than a flight or a seven hour car ride.
Those are my running thoughts. I finally fell asleep last night, somewhere around halftime of the BCS Championship game, and after waking up this morning, my head was clearer and I know that no matter where I end up, it's going to be great. Just gotta take a step back and realize that my life is pretty fabulous, and that if the biggest of my current problems is freaking out about spending another two years away from Boston, I ain't got much to complain about.
Speaking of the BCS game though, of course BC hates Notre Dame, and I told Jennie I could not root for her school, but my Facebook Newsfeed last night was actually hilarious.
Those were all consecutive posts on my newsfeed- not one thing between posts by BC students alum hating on ND...ending with Michael George's status, who graduated with Jennie in 2012...and was the ND leprechaun. I hate rooting against teams (okay, unless its the Giants or the Yankees), but I will say I was very happy that 'Bama won. #RollTide.
Unfortunately I broke this cardinal rule last night. Nothing tragic or really detrimental at all- maybe a bit to my bank account, but the decision leads to more things I really need to think about.
I'm currently in the process of applying to grad schools for a Masters of Education in Secondary Teaching. I've been looking through programs and schools for the last month and had decided on UVA, Vanderbilt, and BC. Since I wasn't certain about my intended program until around Christmas, I've missed deadlines for a lot of schools- luckily UVA isn't until February 15, and Vandy was Dec 31st but has rolling admissions. I emailed BC though, and it took a number of days for someone to get back to me- their deadline had passed but I was told I could still apply, although faculty reviewers were not required to look at my application. I scrambled through the complicated online application that was almost like a game- having to go through different steps and receive clearance to go to the next steps (yet undergraduate uses the Common App I think...weird). Also, BC was the one school out of the ones I was applying to that required recommenders to mail their letters, rather than submitting them online. (Not surprised though, considering the UIS software for choosing classes that's probably from the 1980s...) Finally, the Lynch School didn't even really have the program I wanted, and I wasn't exactly qualified to apply to a different program. It was at this point, sometime after midnight last night, that I realized that it made absolutely no sense to apply to BC.
Problem. I had already paid the $60 application fee and paid $25 to mail them my GRE scores. Decisions I made after 10pm last night.
As I said, nothing crazy bad- just a bit of cash out of the pocket...I'm calling it my alumni gift to BC ;)
Anyways, the realization that I wasn't even applying to BC hit me hard, and at 1am, after working for many hours of the every day for the last week, I was quite emotional. I called up Mark, I sent a dozen emails to my mother, and even more to one of my professors who's been writing recs for me about the 5238956 times I changed my plans within a three hour time frame.
I decided to apply to BU instead....even though it's BU and the price tag is absurdly high, I just couldn't live with myself if I didn't give myself the option to go back to Boston. When I left Boston at the end of the summer, I knew I would be coming back after my year in Germany, whether it was for work or grad school, and now the realization that I will actually probably not be returning to my beloved city is sinking in, and I don't know how to feel.
Vandy's Peabody College is the #1 graduate school for education in the country and I would love to experience Nashville; UVA is also a wonderfully renowned university, and I've always had a soft spot for it since I was very, very close to enrolling there for my undergrad (BC won by just a hair, but it's a decision I have never regretted) and I would also be receiving in-state tuition-- therefore, it would only be logical to enroll at either of those over BU, if offered admission to either.
These programs are only two years, so I could be back in Boston as early as the summer of 2015, but the thought of going somewhere else kind of scares me. Some people take a long time to get over relationships and people....well, I'm taking a long time to get over a place. In the midst of my crisis last night, Mollie told me that I need to stop believing that Boston is the only place I can be happy. She's absolutely right. And I can't figure out if it's just the people there that make me want to go back so much, or the fact that I just spent the four best years of my life there, or what. It's an amalgam of all of those factors (and doesn't help that my mom, originally hailing from the great state of Massachusetts, raised me to love New England and all of its sports teams and culture).
I keep forgetting how young I am, and that I really do have my whole life ahead of me, and that if I go back to Boston now, I will never leave, so maybe I should experience somewhere else. The thought of experiencing Nashville is really exciting- especially since I've recently become obsessed with country music, and it's a similar size city to Boston; it would also be great to experience Charlottesville, after visiting so many times and would be great to be close to all my friends and family--closer than a flight or a seven hour car ride.
Those are my running thoughts. I finally fell asleep last night, somewhere around halftime of the BCS Championship game, and after waking up this morning, my head was clearer and I know that no matter where I end up, it's going to be great. Just gotta take a step back and realize that my life is pretty fabulous, and that if the biggest of my current problems is freaking out about spending another two years away from Boston, I ain't got much to complain about.
Speaking of the BCS game though, of course BC hates Notre Dame, and I told Jennie I could not root for her school, but my Facebook Newsfeed last night was actually hilarious.
Saturday, January 5, 2013
1,000 Places To See Before You Die. Let Go of the Lists.
A recent blog post by a friend of mine doing his Fulbright in the eastern part of Germany caused me to ponder some things and prompted me to write this post (he's also a BC grad- see, BC really did work its magic in making us very insightful and reflective citizens of the world!) Now, a caveat before I start writing- some of what I say may come across as really conceited and spoiled and even pretentious, but it is reeeeaalllyyy not my intention! As the saying goes, there is a method to the madness- I promise.
I think the book "1,000 Places to See Before You Die" must've come out a decade or even longer ago, and there's now a "1,001 Places to See Before You Die" and a journal and a calendar (I know this because I actually got the 2011 calendar for my mom one year for Christmas because one of the months was Germany- where her dear daughter would be spending half the year!), and a myriad of other books by a similar name written by globetrotters and travelers and writers somehow accredited in telling millions of citizens where they should travel and what they should see, where they should stay, what they should do, and what they should eat. That's all fine and dandy, but as my friend James alluded to in his blog, it had created this superficiality in traveling. Everything is a contest over who can check off the most things on their list.
I used to do this- after high school trips to visit Rome and Florence and Paris and Madrid and London and Dublin and Edinburgh and Barcelona and Athens, I would come home and open up one of our numerous travel books and start marking the places I had been and the things I had seen. And then summer vacations visiting Prague and Berlin and Copenhagen and Helsinki and Gdansk and Stockholm and St. Petersburg- I cam home and opened up those books. When I went abroad two years ago (it's now 2013 and I can actually say two years ago...wow that sounds weird!) I came home able to mark off even more places- Amsterdam, Vienna, Munich, Lisbon, Lyon, Istanbul, and Brussels. Right before I left for Germany in the summer this time around, I made one more list of places in Europe I still had left to see- on the list was Budapest, Vilnius (capital of Lithuania, where my mom's entire family is from), and Dresden.
Well, I just had an opportunity to travel to Budapest at the end of the month with a few other American Fulbrighters for a long weekend. When the event was first created last month, I was wicked excited at the thought of finally being able to see the famous city and then when it came time to book flights, I thought about the trip again and decided against it. I know that it is said to be a beautiful city situated in the heart of central-eastern Europe, a region to which I've never been, but I felt like I would be going for the wrong reasons. I felt like I would be going only to go home being able to check Budapest off my list and add a country to my list.
I've already discussed at lengths how being in Europe this time around is much different than my semester abroad and obviously much different than trips here, and with that difference comes a difference in my traveling mentality. I've been here four months now and have done a decent amount of traveling, but it's all just been to see people...(well, and Christmas Markets all over Nordrhein-Westfalen). I went up to Hamburg for a few days, where I had never been, but it was to see my friend Paul. I went to Ireland, where I have been, but it was to visit the neighbors from this summer. I went to England for a week, but it was to spend Christmas with Rae and her family. I went to Berlin for New Year's Eve, but we stayed in David's apartment the whole time except for actual midnight at the Brandenburg Gate and afterwards to go to a party.
Apologies again, because this is where I start to sound ungrateful and spoiled, but I was fortunate enough to be awarded myriad opportunities to travel when I was younger, and I am so grateful to have seen so much of the world that people decades older than me still dream of laying eyes on, but after all of this traveling and seeing of sights, I've realized that it's about the people with whom you're traveling and the people you meet that really make the experience.
I just skyped with Mollie for over an hour as we chattered away trying to figure out our breaks and what we'll do when we visit each other. We kept throwing out options, and honestly, it all came down to the fact that we didn't really care where we went, it was the fact that we would be traveling together and sharing the same experiences. The plan right now is that when she visits me in early March, we'll go to Munich for the weekend and then go to Paris the next weekend to see a band we really like, and of course to go to Paris. I've been to both Paris and Munich before, but Paris was when I was 13 on a school trip and Munich was with my mom two years ago- so these would be completely different experiences, going with one of my best friends of nearly a decade.
I guess in a way, this mentality is related to the feelings I discussed in my Christmastime post. The whole, it doesn't matter how many presents you get/give, but instead, who you're with and such. And this is similar- that it doesn't always matter where you go, but who you're sharing the experience with.
Don't get me wrong- there are some places that I think absolutely everyone should see, and are obviously in those aforementioned books for a reason. I remember the first time I stepped into St. Peter's Basilica in Rome when I was 14, and writing in my journal that everyone in the world should have the opportunity to observe and witness such beauty and magnificence. But my point is- don't travel somewhere just to say you did. Travel there because you want to.
My mom is a world traveler- having now traveled to every continent except Antarctica- most of these on cruise trips, and some visiting me during my own travels. However, I've never heard her talk so much or be as impacted as much as by her trip to India with her friend Carla just over a year ago. Carla's parents had spent many many years in India working as missionaries (or something similar) and wished for their ashes to be scattered in one of the rivers in the country, so my mom and another of Carla's friends traveled there to do just that. Mom saw some tourist attractions, such as the Taj Mahal, but she was also introduced to a culture, and one so different than our own, and as I said, she still has so much to say about that trip.
Honestly, I've kind of lost grasp of my focus of this post and I don't think I'm articulating well what's in my mind (a prime reason I could never succeed as a writer- I can never fully transfer from my head to the paper...or in this case, keyboard) But I guess my ultimate point is simple- travel somewhere because you really want to, not just to cross it off a list. Travel with someone or meet people on your journey with whom you can share your experience, because I've found that it can help you better understand your experience, and spend time in a place really becoming introduced to its culture and its pulse and its life. Go see the Coliseum in Rome, but don't get back on a bus afterwards. Instead, take a passegiatta through the busy streets, sit on the Spanish steps enjoying a gelato and just people watching, sit at a trattoria for hours, watching the sunset over the city. Go see the Eiffel Tower, but stop to enjoy a coffee and a tart and just listen to the language of the Parisians around you. Go see Big Ben and then enjoy a pub lunch and a pint at a quaint English pub. Exchange in some banter with some Brits. There's nothing wrong with wanting to see things on these travel lists- as an International Studies major, I would never ever condemn or chide someone for wanting to travel and see new things, but that travel must go a step further than remaining on a tour bus, snapping a photo, and getting back on the bus. Travelers must take the next step to understand the background of what they're seeing.
The experiences- that's really what travel is all about. Anyone can Google a picture of anything that you go see, but only you can return with your own personal experience to share with those who will listen.
I think the book "1,000 Places to See Before You Die" must've come out a decade or even longer ago, and there's now a "1,001 Places to See Before You Die" and a journal and a calendar (I know this because I actually got the 2011 calendar for my mom one year for Christmas because one of the months was Germany- where her dear daughter would be spending half the year!), and a myriad of other books by a similar name written by globetrotters and travelers and writers somehow accredited in telling millions of citizens where they should travel and what they should see, where they should stay, what they should do, and what they should eat. That's all fine and dandy, but as my friend James alluded to in his blog, it had created this superficiality in traveling. Everything is a contest over who can check off the most things on their list.
I used to do this- after high school trips to visit Rome and Florence and Paris and Madrid and London and Dublin and Edinburgh and Barcelona and Athens, I would come home and open up one of our numerous travel books and start marking the places I had been and the things I had seen. And then summer vacations visiting Prague and Berlin and Copenhagen and Helsinki and Gdansk and Stockholm and St. Petersburg- I cam home and opened up those books. When I went abroad two years ago (it's now 2013 and I can actually say two years ago...wow that sounds weird!) I came home able to mark off even more places- Amsterdam, Vienna, Munich, Lisbon, Lyon, Istanbul, and Brussels. Right before I left for Germany in the summer this time around, I made one more list of places in Europe I still had left to see- on the list was Budapest, Vilnius (capital of Lithuania, where my mom's entire family is from), and Dresden.
Well, I just had an opportunity to travel to Budapest at the end of the month with a few other American Fulbrighters for a long weekend. When the event was first created last month, I was wicked excited at the thought of finally being able to see the famous city and then when it came time to book flights, I thought about the trip again and decided against it. I know that it is said to be a beautiful city situated in the heart of central-eastern Europe, a region to which I've never been, but I felt like I would be going for the wrong reasons. I felt like I would be going only to go home being able to check Budapest off my list and add a country to my list.
I've already discussed at lengths how being in Europe this time around is much different than my semester abroad and obviously much different than trips here, and with that difference comes a difference in my traveling mentality. I've been here four months now and have done a decent amount of traveling, but it's all just been to see people...(well, and Christmas Markets all over Nordrhein-Westfalen). I went up to Hamburg for a few days, where I had never been, but it was to see my friend Paul. I went to Ireland, where I have been, but it was to visit the neighbors from this summer. I went to England for a week, but it was to spend Christmas with Rae and her family. I went to Berlin for New Year's Eve, but we stayed in David's apartment the whole time except for actual midnight at the Brandenburg Gate and afterwards to go to a party.
Apologies again, because this is where I start to sound ungrateful and spoiled, but I was fortunate enough to be awarded myriad opportunities to travel when I was younger, and I am so grateful to have seen so much of the world that people decades older than me still dream of laying eyes on, but after all of this traveling and seeing of sights, I've realized that it's about the people with whom you're traveling and the people you meet that really make the experience.
I just skyped with Mollie for over an hour as we chattered away trying to figure out our breaks and what we'll do when we visit each other. We kept throwing out options, and honestly, it all came down to the fact that we didn't really care where we went, it was the fact that we would be traveling together and sharing the same experiences. The plan right now is that when she visits me in early March, we'll go to Munich for the weekend and then go to Paris the next weekend to see a band we really like, and of course to go to Paris. I've been to both Paris and Munich before, but Paris was when I was 13 on a school trip and Munich was with my mom two years ago- so these would be completely different experiences, going with one of my best friends of nearly a decade.
I guess in a way, this mentality is related to the feelings I discussed in my Christmastime post. The whole, it doesn't matter how many presents you get/give, but instead, who you're with and such. And this is similar- that it doesn't always matter where you go, but who you're sharing the experience with.
Don't get me wrong- there are some places that I think absolutely everyone should see, and are obviously in those aforementioned books for a reason. I remember the first time I stepped into St. Peter's Basilica in Rome when I was 14, and writing in my journal that everyone in the world should have the opportunity to observe and witness such beauty and magnificence. But my point is- don't travel somewhere just to say you did. Travel there because you want to.
My mom is a world traveler- having now traveled to every continent except Antarctica- most of these on cruise trips, and some visiting me during my own travels. However, I've never heard her talk so much or be as impacted as much as by her trip to India with her friend Carla just over a year ago. Carla's parents had spent many many years in India working as missionaries (or something similar) and wished for their ashes to be scattered in one of the rivers in the country, so my mom and another of Carla's friends traveled there to do just that. Mom saw some tourist attractions, such as the Taj Mahal, but she was also introduced to a culture, and one so different than our own, and as I said, she still has so much to say about that trip.
Honestly, I've kind of lost grasp of my focus of this post and I don't think I'm articulating well what's in my mind (a prime reason I could never succeed as a writer- I can never fully transfer from my head to the paper...or in this case, keyboard) But I guess my ultimate point is simple- travel somewhere because you really want to, not just to cross it off a list. Travel with someone or meet people on your journey with whom you can share your experience, because I've found that it can help you better understand your experience, and spend time in a place really becoming introduced to its culture and its pulse and its life. Go see the Coliseum in Rome, but don't get back on a bus afterwards. Instead, take a passegiatta through the busy streets, sit on the Spanish steps enjoying a gelato and just people watching, sit at a trattoria for hours, watching the sunset over the city. Go see the Eiffel Tower, but stop to enjoy a coffee and a tart and just listen to the language of the Parisians around you. Go see Big Ben and then enjoy a pub lunch and a pint at a quaint English pub. Exchange in some banter with some Brits. There's nothing wrong with wanting to see things on these travel lists- as an International Studies major, I would never ever condemn or chide someone for wanting to travel and see new things, but that travel must go a step further than remaining on a tour bus, snapping a photo, and getting back on the bus. Travelers must take the next step to understand the background of what they're seeing.
The experiences- that's really what travel is all about. Anyone can Google a picture of anything that you go see, but only you can return with your own personal experience to share with those who will listen.
Thursday, January 3, 2013
The Holy-daze
Happy New Year! Guten Rutsch! Bonne Année! These were all languages in which I greeted 2013. I'm just so cosmopolitan and worldly.
But like actually. This was the most international New Year's I've ever had. At the crack of dawn on Silvester morning (Silvester is what the Germans refer to New Year's Eve as, because it's St. Sylvester's Day), Rae and I hopped on a train to Berlin and met up with Evan along the way. We arrived in Berlin around 11:30, made our way to Alexanderplatz in the east part of the city, where we met my friend David, another Fulbrighter who went to BC, and settled in to celebrate the ringing in of a new year! We grabbed some lunch at a burrito place called Dolores- we ordered in English and it was pretty close to American Mexican standards, I'd say! Evan is from Phoenix, so he was in heaven finally having some decent Mexican- and Monterrey Jack cheese! Braved the checkout lines at Netto because just like the rest of Germany, we had a few more items to secure before the festivities began.
Back to David's and we met some of his friends who were there for the holiday as well as his roommates. David lives with a German guy, a Swiss girl whose Swiss boyfriend was there as well, and an Italian guy. James was also there (another BC Fulbrighter), then David's Chilean friend, Diego, and another guy studying in Berlin, Gabriel, who's from France, but is actually half Brazilian. Phew! And all of us in in the capital of Germany!
When we returned, of course had to get glitzy for the occasion. Rae's family got me a beautiful bright red sequin dress for Christmas and in true keeping with my New Year's Eve traditions, was able to continue with sequins! May be more economical to start reusing some of these dresses though...
The day started off like any day-drinking event- music and chatter and card games and some food...once it got dark though, people everywhere were lighting fireworks (and remember that it gets dark by 4:30). Around 11, we all made our way to the Brandenburger Tor (Brandenburg Gate) to ring in 2013 with the crowds. It was a pretty cool experience. I've never been outside in a crowd for New Year's and I assume that this is like the Times Square of Germany- they said one million people were expected. The only sad thing was that there was no countdown and no Auld Lang Syne, so without those staples, I didn't even know that midnight had hit and had to ask my friends, whoops!
Afterwards, we made our way to a massive whole-building house party on the west side of the city which was absolutely insane. Germans, and Europeans in general, party so much differently than Americans and I'm always stunned at their endurance and perseverance to last the whole night! Back to David's and slept New Year's Day away; Rae and I didn't even leave the apartment (luckily I've already spent five days in Berlin back in 2008 and saw all the touristy things, and will be back for another five days in March for the mid-year Fulbright Conference). Made our way back to Münster yesterday morning, and it's been about 30 hours back, and other than two runs and grocery shopping, I've just been vegging out and it's been glooooorious.
I guess I'll work backwards on this post. That was New Year's but what about Christmas in England? It was absolutely lovely! Rae's family is lovely, and everyone I met was so nice and friendly, and we just ate and ate and ate and watched enough movies and TV to last us the rest of our TV-less time in Germany. We got in wicked late on Sunday night, so didn't do much. Up on Christmas Eve and were supposed to go shooting down the farm with Rae's uncle for his birthday but it was pouring rain (true to the stereotype, it rained every single day I was there- although there were some intermittent periods of sunshine, and enough dry time on Thursday for me to fit in a run). I actually wasn't too bothered about not going shooting- I really have no interest in shooting a gun (I know, how un-American! ...at least that's how all my students see it hahah) Instead, we made our way to the Barley (one of Stockton's pubs) for a classic pub lunch of prawn cocktail, steak and chips, and Guinnesses and Lagers. Met more of Rae's family and the locals from her village- eating and drinking and merriment, just how Christmas should be :)
Made our way into the other room with Rae's brother Joe, and his two friends, and then Rae's cousin- basically just all the young people. Then we switched pubs and had a dart contest and I won! My arm was actually sore the next two days from two hours of throwing darts. I collected about 11 pounds in winnings which just went straight back into the beer fund. Afterwards we switched pubs once again, with more darts and pool, incessant plays of "Fairytale of New York" and no dearth of English banter.
Closed down the pub and Joe, Rae, and I devoured the chilli Rae's mom had left for us and then passed out in bed. Woke up the next morning to a stocking of presents at the foot of the bed! SO British! Downstairs to open our presents, had a nice big English breakfast, then went to Rae's uncle's and cousins' to exchange more gifts, and then to the village over to see Rae's other uncle and other grandmother for a marvelous food spread and the Queen's speech and more gift exchanging. It was a slow move back to Rae's because we were all so full. I insisted on making everyone watch "Love Actually" and then we all had a big turkey dinner, and went into food coma right afterwards.
Oh the holidaaaaze.
The day after Christmas is Boxing Day in the UK, so it's actually a thing. We went to an open house at one of the neighbors in the village who had the most beautiful house! It was a lovely party and then Rae and I went to her friend's pub afterwards for a Boxing Day get-together. More darts and pool. My prowess at darts unfortunately did not last. The rest of the week was very uneventful- just lots of eating and drinking and watching movies...Rae and I did go see "The Hobbit" (couldn't see Les Mis like the rest of America because it doesn't come out until next week in the UK and not until NEXT MONTH in Germany! Needless to say, I am heartbroken and completely jealous and indignant because everyone is hopping on the Les Mis bandwagon, yet it's been my favorite musical for about a decade. Humph. Posers. I'll get over it...maybe.) and went for a lovely curry the next night. Rae and I both consumed green chilli peppers during appetizers and I almost died. Most of you know I can handle quite a bit of spice on my pallet (ordered the lamb vindaloo and once again, the waiters looked at me like I was crazy- who is this white girl getting a vindaloo!?) But the chilli pepper...never again.
Oh yeah. And after months of contemplation, I decided to dye my hair blonde. Why not? It's basically the one color I've never been bold enough to do, but I figured that I'm in Germany and on break from school, so I might as well go for it. I hated it at first, but I think it was just the initial shock. I like it better now, but after less than a week it's already fading, so I'll have to go over it again in the next couple days to get the spots that were missed. Some people get tattoos or piercings when they get bored with their appearance, but I'm sure mom would be happy that I'd rather dye my hair "permanently" than ink up or put holes in my body.
I'll end with this- as Americans, we have a lot of things we think about England. I've learned some to be true and some to be false, but the whole, receiving milk in bottles outside the house in the morning is actually a thing! (I mean, I think that was a thing for my parent's generation...but I don't know anywhere where it still happens at home today) So, cheers!
But like actually. This was the most international New Year's I've ever had. At the crack of dawn on Silvester morning (Silvester is what the Germans refer to New Year's Eve as, because it's St. Sylvester's Day), Rae and I hopped on a train to Berlin and met up with Evan along the way. We arrived in Berlin around 11:30, made our way to Alexanderplatz in the east part of the city, where we met my friend David, another Fulbrighter who went to BC, and settled in to celebrate the ringing in of a new year! We grabbed some lunch at a burrito place called Dolores- we ordered in English and it was pretty close to American Mexican standards, I'd say! Evan is from Phoenix, so he was in heaven finally having some decent Mexican- and Monterrey Jack cheese! Braved the checkout lines at Netto because just like the rest of Germany, we had a few more items to secure before the festivities began.
Back to David's and we met some of his friends who were there for the holiday as well as his roommates. David lives with a German guy, a Swiss girl whose Swiss boyfriend was there as well, and an Italian guy. James was also there (another BC Fulbrighter), then David's Chilean friend, Diego, and another guy studying in Berlin, Gabriel, who's from France, but is actually half Brazilian. Phew! And all of us in in the capital of Germany!
When we returned, of course had to get glitzy for the occasion. Rae's family got me a beautiful bright red sequin dress for Christmas and in true keeping with my New Year's Eve traditions, was able to continue with sequins! May be more economical to start reusing some of these dresses though...
 |
| red for 2013! |
 |
| silver for 2012- and of course making all the girls wear matching eye glitter |
 |
| and black for 2011 |
The day started off like any day-drinking event- music and chatter and card games and some food...once it got dark though, people everywhere were lighting fireworks (and remember that it gets dark by 4:30). Around 11, we all made our way to the Brandenburger Tor (Brandenburg Gate) to ring in 2013 with the crowds. It was a pretty cool experience. I've never been outside in a crowd for New Year's and I assume that this is like the Times Square of Germany- they said one million people were expected. The only sad thing was that there was no countdown and no Auld Lang Syne, so without those staples, I didn't even know that midnight had hit and had to ask my friends, whoops!
 |
| Me and Rae- the Gate on our heads |
 |
| The Gate in neon colors! |
Afterwards, we made our way to a massive whole-building house party on the west side of the city which was absolutely insane. Germans, and Europeans in general, party so much differently than Americans and I'm always stunned at their endurance and perseverance to last the whole night! Back to David's and slept New Year's Day away; Rae and I didn't even leave the apartment (luckily I've already spent five days in Berlin back in 2008 and saw all the touristy things, and will be back for another five days in March for the mid-year Fulbright Conference). Made our way back to Münster yesterday morning, and it's been about 30 hours back, and other than two runs and grocery shopping, I've just been vegging out and it's been glooooorious.
I guess I'll work backwards on this post. That was New Year's but what about Christmas in England? It was absolutely lovely! Rae's family is lovely, and everyone I met was so nice and friendly, and we just ate and ate and ate and watched enough movies and TV to last us the rest of our TV-less time in Germany. We got in wicked late on Sunday night, so didn't do much. Up on Christmas Eve and were supposed to go shooting down the farm with Rae's uncle for his birthday but it was pouring rain (true to the stereotype, it rained every single day I was there- although there were some intermittent periods of sunshine, and enough dry time on Thursday for me to fit in a run). I actually wasn't too bothered about not going shooting- I really have no interest in shooting a gun (I know, how un-American! ...at least that's how all my students see it hahah) Instead, we made our way to the Barley (one of Stockton's pubs) for a classic pub lunch of prawn cocktail, steak and chips, and Guinnesses and Lagers. Met more of Rae's family and the locals from her village- eating and drinking and merriment, just how Christmas should be :)
 |
| Starting off Christmas Eve with a Guinness |
Made our way into the other room with Rae's brother Joe, and his two friends, and then Rae's cousin- basically just all the young people. Then we switched pubs and had a dart contest and I won! My arm was actually sore the next two days from two hours of throwing darts. I collected about 11 pounds in winnings which just went straight back into the beer fund. Afterwards we switched pubs once again, with more darts and pool, incessant plays of "Fairytale of New York" and no dearth of English banter.
Closed down the pub and Joe, Rae, and I devoured the chilli Rae's mom had left for us and then passed out in bed. Woke up the next morning to a stocking of presents at the foot of the bed! SO British! Downstairs to open our presents, had a nice big English breakfast, then went to Rae's uncle's and cousins' to exchange more gifts, and then to the village over to see Rae's other uncle and other grandmother for a marvelous food spread and the Queen's speech and more gift exchanging. It was a slow move back to Rae's because we were all so full. I insisted on making everyone watch "Love Actually" and then we all had a big turkey dinner, and went into food coma right afterwards.
Oh the holidaaaaze.
The day after Christmas is Boxing Day in the UK, so it's actually a thing. We went to an open house at one of the neighbors in the village who had the most beautiful house! It was a lovely party and then Rae and I went to her friend's pub afterwards for a Boxing Day get-together. More darts and pool. My prowess at darts unfortunately did not last. The rest of the week was very uneventful- just lots of eating and drinking and watching movies...Rae and I did go see "The Hobbit" (couldn't see Les Mis like the rest of America because it doesn't come out until next week in the UK and not until NEXT MONTH in Germany! Needless to say, I am heartbroken and completely jealous and indignant because everyone is hopping on the Les Mis bandwagon, yet it's been my favorite musical for about a decade. Humph. Posers. I'll get over it...maybe.) and went for a lovely curry the next night. Rae and I both consumed green chilli peppers during appetizers and I almost died. Most of you know I can handle quite a bit of spice on my pallet (ordered the lamb vindaloo and once again, the waiters looked at me like I was crazy- who is this white girl getting a vindaloo!?) But the chilli pepper...never again.
Oh yeah. And after months of contemplation, I decided to dye my hair blonde. Why not? It's basically the one color I've never been bold enough to do, but I figured that I'm in Germany and on break from school, so I might as well go for it. I hated it at first, but I think it was just the initial shock. I like it better now, but after less than a week it's already fading, so I'll have to go over it again in the next couple days to get the spots that were missed. Some people get tattoos or piercings when they get bored with their appearance, but I'm sure mom would be happy that I'd rather dye my hair "permanently" than ink up or put holes in my body.
 |
| It's already faded from this color lol |
I'll end with this- as Americans, we have a lot of things we think about England. I've learned some to be true and some to be false, but the whole, receiving milk in bottles outside the house in the morning is actually a thing! (I mean, I think that was a thing for my parent's generation...but I don't know anywhere where it still happens at home today) So, cheers!
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