My friends and I decided that since we are in Europe, we should probably see some other countries. The only rub is, we're all kinda poor. Not poor in the sense that we cant eat anything but lentils (thought Katie actually does). We're poor in the sense that we'd rather not spend money if it can be avoided, what with that blasted exchange rate and all. But I digress. So far, I've made two trips out of the country. In both cases we bought Länder tickets or a Schönes Wochenende Ticket. The first kind let you travel all over whatever state youre in with 5 people for like 27€. The second is essentiallz the same thing except it applies to all of Germany and only on weekends.
Our first trip was to the Bodensee, and then we walked across the border (it's nothing spectacular, just a bike path with a sign that says 'Landesgrenze') to Switzerland. Before you cross the border there is a little building with the crests from both Germany and Switzerland, and as we were walking by the sign I heard a little Germany kid say the words 'Schweiz' and 'krieg.' Schweiz is sort of what you would expect him to say; it means Switzerland. The other word is what gives me pause. "krieg" can either mean 'to get' or war i.e. Blitzkrieg. In either case, I think that child was planning WWIII.
We did a fair amount of sign seeing, and then decided to make dinner in the park before catching a train back. I'm not going to further embarrass myself by going into details, but let's just say if you ever see the label "Ausländisches Erzeugnis in Deutschland auf Trinkstärke herabgesetzt" Don't drink whatever's inside, especially not alone.
The second trip was to Strassbourg, France. Technically we got a train to Kehl and the walked to France. There isnt a whole lot to see in Kehl. At first we wandered into the industrial section of Strassbourg. So my critique on France was that is was even worse than Missouri. Eventually we found the nice part of the town and dicked around there for the day. The best part though by far was the return trip. The trip is supposed to take about 3 hours, BUT I single-handedly stretched it to almost 7 hours. My first fuck-up was to misread the train time totally, so we missed that one and had to catch another one in Kehl that was an hour later. The next part of my devilish trifecta, was to confuse the departure and arrival times of our next train from Offenberg. That is, the time that it was supposed to reach its destination, I took as the time it was supposed to leave Offenberg. Anyways, that killed an hour and a half. The crowing glory of my Reisezerstörung occured on the way to Eutingen im Gäu. Now I had been sleeping for most of this train ride (my nefarious mind has to recharge, you know). I woke up about 10 minutes before we reached a little unmarked train station, which we would come to know very well as Hochdorf bei Horb. On the train I knew that our destination was supposed to be this Eutingen im Gäu town, and as we reached Hochdorf, we heard the conductor announce something, so we looked outside to see what the stop was really called. Seeing now sign I looked to the back of the train, and on an electric display it said "Eutingen im Gäu." My conclusion was that we were in fact in Eutingen im Gäu, and that we should get off the train. So amidst much confusion we get off the train only to find out that it isn't Eutingen im Gäu, but rather Hochdorf bei Horb. I apologize for my mistake (read: cackle with glee) and find that there is a train to Tübingen, which will get us there only a few minutes later than normal. We wait for this train for about 20 minutes before we hear some German rail workers talking about the construction on the lines and the reduced schedule that's happening because of it. Turns out that Hochdorf bei Horb has almost no trains running through it that night, in addition we missed the only bus that could get us to a bigger town. We called Craig who figured out that there would be a train about an hour and a half later. During the wait we found a mannequin that looked like Death, Jake nearly murdered me, and Miriam realized that I should have been someone's little brother. They also resolved never to trust me with train tickets again.
29. Mai 2008
29. April 2008
Tandem (not the bike)
I have a German Tandem Partner! In case you have no idea what that means, a Tandem Partner is someone who speaks fluently a language you want to learn. So in exchange for talking to you in that language you talk with them in your mother language. Anyways her name is Kati, and I met her through Herbert. Herbert is Helen's Tandem Partner. Usually I call him "Helen's Herbert", though never to his face. (I really hope he doesn't read this). Having a Tandem, makes me feel better about speaking English all the time and not having any real German friends. I think the ersatz comfort will really help.
Right after I got Kati's number, I was sitting in my room, writing in my journal. This sounds really pensive and deep, but really it was Earth Day and google was shut down so I had nothing else to do. In my journal, I was ruminating on Earth Day, and I thought to myself, "you know the only electronic thing I'm using right now is my cell phone. It would be really easy to just turn that off and use absolutely no electricity." So I promptly turned my cell phone off. About 10 minutes later I realized that now I had no way to tell time and that I had class sometime soon. So I caved in and turned my cell phone on. It did the little Voda-Fone Salute and then...well let me read you the journal passage:
Hmmm. Short Post, but enjoy none the less.
Right after I got Kati's number, I was sitting in my room, writing in my journal. This sounds really pensive and deep, but really it was Earth Day and google was shut down so I had nothing else to do. In my journal, I was ruminating on Earth Day, and I thought to myself, "you know the only electronic thing I'm using right now is my cell phone. It would be really easy to just turn that off and use absolutely no electricity." So I promptly turned my cell phone off. About 10 minutes later I realized that now I had no way to tell time and that I had class sometime soon. So I caved in and turned my cell phone on. It did the little Voda-Fone Salute and then...well let me read you the journal passage:
...Speaking of the environment, I think I'm going to start line-drying my clothes, I really don't see a difference in them and normally the dryers here are ineffective.One of the many things that I share with my mom is an almost obsessive compulsion to throw things away, everything in fact, including my PIN. My logic was, "well the phone knows my PIN why would it want it again?" I maintain that this logic is still steadfast. A word of wisdom, don't lose your PIN. Because I bought my phone through not-Vodafone, they cant just give me my PIN. I had to pay 18€ and then wait 3 days for the money to get there. They told me to give them a call to get my new PIN...With what fucking phone?! Anyways, it was a Zen exercise in not knowing the time.
FUCK
I just turned my phone off, and when I turned it back on, it wanted the PIN. I don't know my PIN number. I g2g.
Hmmm. Short Post, but enjoy none the less.
28. April 2008
The Wheels on the Bus
As a Midwest American, I drive my car EVERYWHERE. Basically, if I can't see it from where I am, I'm driving there. With that set-up, I'd like to explain how I get around now.
Before I'd left the States, I'd looked at the bus schedule from Stuttgart Airport to Tübingen and found out that there's a bus that will get me here (the 828, if you're dying to know). I never thought to check when it left, how much it cost, where in this monstrous airport it left from, or which stop I was supposed to get off at. So, once I got to the Stuttgart Airport, I asked tourist information all that jazz. She knew where it left from, that was it. Now, I've never ridden a bus before; I dont know, where you pay, whom you pay, or any of the other finer points of public transit. After much frightened indecision, I decide to just get on the bus and hope for the best. Once I'm there, I talk to the driver (who looks EXACTLY like Burt Reynolds), and he mutters in his cantankterous Schwäbian-accented German that the bus costs €5.30. As the bus drives, it hits me that I don't know where Tübingen is relative to Stuttgart, south I thought. Then I remember my tattoo, and think, it's kind of ironic that you have a tattoo of the uncertainty principle and you're freaking out about which bus stop you're going to take. That calmed me a little bit. As luck would have it the Tübingen Hauptbahnhof (Main Station) is the last stop, and I was forced to get out there.
On a day-to-day basis, I use the TüBus, whose name I love. I'm getting farily good with knowing which lines go where, but it's still a 'new thing' for me to ride the bus. I've decided that this whole German Eco-Friendly thing is pretty cool and that once I'm back in the States, I want to keep it up. I've already been looking at the Des Moines Bus Schedule to see where I can go, and I looked into taking a greyhound bus from Des Moines to Topeka, but that turns out to be more expensive than driving, plus when I drive I can pee whenever I want. But I digress.
The only bad thing about the bus is that since my dorm is in the middle of nowhere Germany, the bus doesn't run on weekends or after 8 pm. The walk to the Hauptbahnhof is actually quite pleasant, but still a little annoying when you just want to get a döner-kebab at 1am. So, when I saw the poster for the Fahrrad Flohmarkt (Bicycle Fleamarket) in Derendingen, it got me thinking. Derendingen by the way is the next suburb/town south, conveniently located within walking distance of my middle of nowhere dorm. I've run though Derendingen (it takes like 7 minutes) and it's quite pretty. So last Saturday, I decided that I was gonna get me a bike at this Flohmarkt. I had, by the way, already checked Kaufland (German Wal-mart) and their bikes were like 170€，so I tossed out a big "fuck that" and decided that walking is easier. But a used bike, now that sounds more in my price range. At the Flohmarkt, I found a bike for 25€. I tested it out and it seemed great. The guy I bought it from had no hands (I took this as the reason from his selling the bike so cheap). After the exchange I drove off a happy little camper. I went to buy a chain for the bike, which cost half as much as the bike itself. And now I have this great sense of freedom; I can go anywhere anytime. More recently Evelina (Jake named the bike) has had some problems. Her back tire is rubbing on the frame. I found this out on my way to the Asian Market (I just wanted to go somewhere). I think after I finish writing this and eating my nutella toast, I might try to fix her.
Oh Evelina is red
Before I'd left the States, I'd looked at the bus schedule from Stuttgart Airport to Tübingen and found out that there's a bus that will get me here (the 828, if you're dying to know). I never thought to check when it left, how much it cost, where in this monstrous airport it left from, or which stop I was supposed to get off at. So, once I got to the Stuttgart Airport, I asked tourist information all that jazz. She knew where it left from, that was it. Now, I've never ridden a bus before; I dont know, where you pay, whom you pay, or any of the other finer points of public transit. After much frightened indecision, I decide to just get on the bus and hope for the best. Once I'm there, I talk to the driver (who looks EXACTLY like Burt Reynolds), and he mutters in his cantankterous Schwäbian-accented German that the bus costs €5.30. As the bus drives, it hits me that I don't know where Tübingen is relative to Stuttgart, south I thought. Then I remember my tattoo, and think, it's kind of ironic that you have a tattoo of the uncertainty principle and you're freaking out about which bus stop you're going to take. That calmed me a little bit. As luck would have it the Tübingen Hauptbahnhof (Main Station) is the last stop, and I was forced to get out there.
On a day-to-day basis, I use the TüBus, whose name I love. I'm getting farily good with knowing which lines go where, but it's still a 'new thing' for me to ride the bus. I've decided that this whole German Eco-Friendly thing is pretty cool and that once I'm back in the States, I want to keep it up. I've already been looking at the Des Moines Bus Schedule to see where I can go, and I looked into taking a greyhound bus from Des Moines to Topeka, but that turns out to be more expensive than driving, plus when I drive I can pee whenever I want. But I digress.
The only bad thing about the bus is that since my dorm is in the middle of nowhere Germany, the bus doesn't run on weekends or after 8 pm. The walk to the Hauptbahnhof is actually quite pleasant, but still a little annoying when you just want to get a döner-kebab at 1am. So, when I saw the poster for the Fahrrad Flohmarkt (Bicycle Fleamarket) in Derendingen, it got me thinking. Derendingen by the way is the next suburb/town south, conveniently located within walking distance of my middle of nowhere dorm. I've run though Derendingen (it takes like 7 minutes) and it's quite pretty. So last Saturday, I decided that I was gonna get me a bike at this Flohmarkt. I had, by the way, already checked Kaufland (German Wal-mart) and their bikes were like 170€，so I tossed out a big "fuck that" and decided that walking is easier. But a used bike, now that sounds more in my price range. At the Flohmarkt, I found a bike for 25€. I tested it out and it seemed great. The guy I bought it from had no hands (I took this as the reason from his selling the bike so cheap). After the exchange I drove off a happy little camper. I went to buy a chain for the bike, which cost half as much as the bike itself. And now I have this great sense of freedom; I can go anywhere anytime. More recently Evelina (Jake named the bike) has had some problems. Her back tire is rubbing on the frame. I found this out on my way to the Asian Market (I just wanted to go somewhere). I think after I finish writing this and eating my nutella toast, I might try to fix her.
Oh Evelina is red
13. April 2008
Number or Nummer
I'm slowly but surely loosing my ability to spell in English, in fact I just had to stop myself from spelling "English" with and -sch at the end like in German. It's not just my spelling that's going to crap, I now speaking what would best be defined as Denglisch, at mixture of Deutsch and Englisch.
Here are some of my normal mistakes:
Speaking of funny looks, yesterday, Craig and I went to Kaufland to get groceries (I almost called it Lebensmittel). One thing I should mention about German grocery stores is that there are no sackers for your groceries, in fact there are no sacks. In fairness they have them, but you have to pay 19 Eurocents for them, which I find ridiculous, but then again I'm a bit of a miser. But I digress, anyways, we bought a shit ton of groceries, and the bus doesnt run to Mühlbachäcker (our dorm) on Saturday so we would have had to schlepp all of these bags about ~2 km back home. We decided to use the cart (for which we had to pay a 1€ deposit) to get the groceries home. I have never been stared at so much in my life! You would have thought we were carrying a dead body in the cart, the way people stared at us. One guy looked at us and then faced away but kept his eyes on us as he walked past...it was hilarious. We did look a little crazy because the sidewalk slopes and Craig had to push the cart at a 45 degree angle to keep it from going into the road.
In other news, my Sprachkurs is over. On the balance I liked it, I didn't learn a whole lot, but I got to practice speaking, met lots of cool people, and got help with the verdammt deutsche Bureaucracy. I do wish that they had helped us register for classes, but that turned out to be easier that I expected. The online course catalog is shit, and by the time we were enrolled in the Uni the registration period was over, so we had to email professors and ask to be in their class. Turns out you can just show up for a class and ask to register there, apparently it's quite common. One thing that Sara, our Tutorin who has the most amazing voice ever, said was "it is your right to study". She said it in German of course, but it was very reminiscent of the French student riots. I just thought it was cool.
Oh and just a quick aside, I (rather we, there were 20 of us) went to Stuttgart for a day. The weather was shit, and the Italians ended up leaving a person behind, but it was fun. The first thing we see when we get out of the train station is--Hold on, I need to set this up right before I tell you. Ok in the movie Eurotrip, there is a running joke that nothing sexual shocks Europeans because "they have orange juice commercials with lesbians and dildos." So armed with this stereotype I can tell you the story. We get out of the underground train station and the first thing we see of Stuttgart is a giant poster with a bottle of hunts ketchup and a naked woman behind it. You can actually see nipple. Needless to say, I bought the poster. 7€ well spent.
Here are some of my normal mistakes:
- Yes, bitte
- Pass me the Messer (knife)
- I still haven't melded an (anmelden=register)
- When are we going to make the test? (in German you machst eine Prüfung--literally make a test)
Speaking of funny looks, yesterday, Craig and I went to Kaufland to get groceries (I almost called it Lebensmittel). One thing I should mention about German grocery stores is that there are no sackers for your groceries, in fact there are no sacks. In fairness they have them, but you have to pay 19 Eurocents for them, which I find ridiculous, but then again I'm a bit of a miser. But I digress, anyways, we bought a shit ton of groceries, and the bus doesnt run to Mühlbachäcker (our dorm) on Saturday so we would have had to schlepp all of these bags about ~2 km back home. We decided to use the cart (for which we had to pay a 1€ deposit) to get the groceries home. I have never been stared at so much in my life! You would have thought we were carrying a dead body in the cart, the way people stared at us. One guy looked at us and then faced away but kept his eyes on us as he walked past...it was hilarious. We did look a little crazy because the sidewalk slopes and Craig had to push the cart at a 45 degree angle to keep it from going into the road.
In other news, my Sprachkurs is over. On the balance I liked it, I didn't learn a whole lot, but I got to practice speaking, met lots of cool people, and got help with the verdammt deutsche Bureaucracy. I do wish that they had helped us register for classes, but that turned out to be easier that I expected. The online course catalog is shit, and by the time we were enrolled in the Uni the registration period was over, so we had to email professors and ask to be in their class. Turns out you can just show up for a class and ask to register there, apparently it's quite common. One thing that Sara, our Tutorin who has the most amazing voice ever, said was "it is your right to study". She said it in German of course, but it was very reminiscent of the French student riots. I just thought it was cool.
Oh and just a quick aside, I (rather we, there were 20 of us) went to Stuttgart for a day. The weather was shit, and the Italians ended up leaving a person behind, but it was fun. The first thing we see when we get out of the train station is--Hold on, I need to set this up right before I tell you. Ok in the movie Eurotrip, there is a running joke that nothing sexual shocks Europeans because "they have orange juice commercials with lesbians and dildos." So armed with this stereotype I can tell you the story. We get out of the underground train station and the first thing we see of Stuttgart is a giant poster with a bottle of hunts ketchup and a naked woman behind it. You can actually see nipple. Needless to say, I bought the poster. 7€ well spent.
26. März 2008
JESUS TITS AMERICA
So I'm finally in Tübingen. My flight got delayed because of weather in Chicago, and by the time I got to Chicago, of course there was no one there to help, and naturally there were no more flights to take to London. I had to overnight in Chicago, which wasn't that bad actually. Then I had to sleep in the Heathrow terminal because 1) my flight was the next day and 2) a hotel would have cost more than my flight. On the flight to London I met an insurance salesman (looking back this should have been a warning sign). As we started to talk I noticed that his hands were shaking as he read his book. Personable little me, I actually talked to him for a while. He took up the entire armrest, which at first kinda pissed me off, but I figured I could cut a guy who is either afraid of flying or has Parkinson's a break (looking bad this was my first mistake). Sometime around the Denver omlette they served for breakfast, his hand ended up on my leg. Now, at this point I thought "maybe he has some sort of arthritis and he can't feel his hand on my leg," and then I rationalized it with "I always complain about how Americans are so afraid of being touched by a stranger and it's so stupid." Armed with these lies I let his hand sit. Somewhere around Iceland, his hand had travelled partway up my leg and was now resting dangerously close to my junk. I decided that I had had enough with this BS. I say that very forcefully but in reality I just started a passive-aggressive war where my hand slowly tried to win back the territory I had lost. During this time, in true passive-aggressive fashion, we had held on a polite conversation. He was flying to London for a meeting and then on to Budapest, for no apparent reason. I told him of my tribulations at the Chicago airport, and he offered to share his London hotel room with me, adding rather ominously that when your abroad you have to try everything. I nearly vomitted, but I held it together because he could have killed me and dumped my body out of the Airplane bathroom across the glaciers of Iceland. You do what you have to do to stay alive.
By the time I was in Germany I had decided that I could wait to call my family and that they would understand that without a phone or internet, such things were difficult. This proved to be very wrong. My mom assumed that because I hadn't phoned (in my sister's words) "You had been killed in some Euro-trash alley." In her hysteria, she phoned my uncle who lives in Germany. Together they spend a day and a half calling O'Hare Airport, Heathrow Airport, Stuttgart Airport, London Police, Tübingen Police, The Wohnheimverwaltung (housing adminstration), and every dorm in Tübingen (there are about 30). As I walked carefree and rested into the Bus Station BurgerKing to check my facebook and email, they were about to file a missing persons report with the Federal Government. I would like to point out, and this is nothing against my mom specifically, that the word "Hysteria" comes from the Greek word "Hystera" meaning uterus because they thought it was caused by a disturbance in that organ. Women are Crazy.
In Tübingen things are going pretty good. I don't have internet in my room yet, so I'm writing this from the Afro-Café or something like that. And the room itself is kind of depressing, it's furnished but not very colorfully or happily. A little bit of advice to anyone who wants to study in Tübingen: familiarize yourself with the bus schedule and a map of the city. I was lost for an hour because I thought the busses weren't running and I tried to walk to my dorm. The other three times I've gotten lost in this city have been because I decided to just set out on foot somewhere.
My Sprachkurs has begun and so far I've met lots of people from England and the USA. It's nice to speak with them, but it kinda feels like cheating when I speak English. I'm also very critical of the other Americans because they are what people see of the whole nationality. I can only be so funny and cool, I can't make up for all of us!
By the time I was in Germany I had decided that I could wait to call my family and that they would understand that without a phone or internet, such things were difficult. This proved to be very wrong. My mom assumed that because I hadn't phoned (in my sister's words) "You had been killed in some Euro-trash alley." In her hysteria, she phoned my uncle who lives in Germany. Together they spend a day and a half calling O'Hare Airport, Heathrow Airport, Stuttgart Airport, London Police, Tübingen Police, The Wohnheimverwaltung (housing adminstration), and every dorm in Tübingen (there are about 30). As I walked carefree and rested into the Bus Station BurgerKing to check my facebook and email, they were about to file a missing persons report with the Federal Government. I would like to point out, and this is nothing against my mom specifically, that the word "Hysteria" comes from the Greek word "Hystera" meaning uterus because they thought it was caused by a disturbance in that organ. Women are Crazy.
In Tübingen things are going pretty good. I don't have internet in my room yet, so I'm writing this from the Afro-Café or something like that. And the room itself is kind of depressing, it's furnished but not very colorfully or happily. A little bit of advice to anyone who wants to study in Tübingen: familiarize yourself with the bus schedule and a map of the city. I was lost for an hour because I thought the busses weren't running and I tried to walk to my dorm. The other three times I've gotten lost in this city have been because I decided to just set out on foot somewhere.
My Sprachkurs has begun and so far I've met lots of people from England and the USA. It's nice to speak with them, but it kinda feels like cheating when I speak English. I'm also very critical of the other Americans because they are what people see of the whole nationality. I can only be so funny and cool, I can't make up for all of us!
26. Februar 2008
Konrad Adenauer
Housing is, honest-to-god, the hardest part about going to Germany. I'm 7000 miles away and trying to pick a suitable apartment: ridiculous (lächerlich). The first option with Felix was kind of a flop. After the first email I sent in German, he switched to writing in English, another one of those bad signs. I figured that deadlines and such were flexible because he was doing the renting, so I took my time in corresponding. A few days after I send a message to him, I got a message from Felix saying that he might have a place, but it's already been given away, but the girl can't move in for some reason. Are you confused? Me too, this is why we should have written in German.
Apparently, the deadlines were not so flexible because the Housing Chick sent me another offer to live on Konrad-Adenauer Straße in room number 3.1. I was looking forward to Felix, but no dice. I get the renting contract on the 19 and have to sign and return it by the 25. And like a moron, I decide that that particular span of time would be great to travel to Iowa and leave me computer (with the application) behind. My carefree weekend is interrupted by a realization on the night of the 24th of the 7 hour time difference. That is, the morning of the 25th to me will be well past normal business hours on the 25th to her. SHIT! Add to this that I don't actually have the application even if I wanted to fax it. (Sidenote: who uses fax machines anyway really?) I get on the phone with The Widow Rajewski (my mom) and have to describe how to email a PDF application from me to me. Twenty minutes later I have the email.
In SLC the next day, I fill out my cover sheet and write a little note in German at the bottom apologizing for my lateness blah blah blah. And I hand it all to Gloria and get ready to leave. But no, it certainly can't be quick or easy to send something to Germany. Gloria doesn't understand the phone number. In her defense it was 0049 (0) 7071/9697-20 so it's not like it's obvious what to do. After three attempts and a call to the international center fail to yield any results, THE DIRECTOR OF TELECOMMUNICATIONS has to personally fax the document. On the upside, this does make my excuses to the Housing Authority a little more legitimate. But here's the kicker, I got an Email today saying that they received my application, but only the first half! That Jackass didn't fax it right! Now I have to go to Kinkos to fax it myself. (Avoid this option if you can because it costs 10$ to send two pages.) Jesus Christ Bananas!
So, hopefully I will have a place on Konrad-Adenauer Straße to live. I don't know a whole lot about the place other than that it's furnished (which specifically includes a pillow and quilt, but not sheets or utensils) and that the dorm is called Mühlbachäcker a name which I can't begin to pronounce.
Apparently, the deadlines were not so flexible because the Housing Chick sent me another offer to live on Konrad-Adenauer Straße in room number 3.1. I was looking forward to Felix, but no dice. I get the renting contract on the 19 and have to sign and return it by the 25. And like a moron, I decide that that particular span of time would be great to travel to Iowa and leave me computer (with the application) behind. My carefree weekend is interrupted by a realization on the night of the 24th of the 7 hour time difference. That is, the morning of the 25th to me will be well past normal business hours on the 25th to her. SHIT! Add to this that I don't actually have the application even if I wanted to fax it. (Sidenote: who uses fax machines anyway really?) I get on the phone with The Widow Rajewski (my mom) and have to describe how to email a PDF application from me to me. Twenty minutes later I have the email.
In SLC the next day, I fill out my cover sheet and write a little note in German at the bottom apologizing for my lateness blah blah blah. And I hand it all to Gloria and get ready to leave. But no, it certainly can't be quick or easy to send something to Germany. Gloria doesn't understand the phone number. In her defense it was 0049 (0) 7071/9697-20 so it's not like it's obvious what to do. After three attempts and a call to the international center fail to yield any results, THE DIRECTOR OF TELECOMMUNICATIONS has to personally fax the document. On the upside, this does make my excuses to the Housing Authority a little more legitimate. But here's the kicker, I got an Email today saying that they received my application, but only the first half! That Jackass didn't fax it right! Now I have to go to Kinkos to fax it myself. (Avoid this option if you can because it costs 10$ to send two pages.) Jesus Christ Bananas!
So, hopefully I will have a place on Konrad-Adenauer Straße to live. I don't know a whole lot about the place other than that it's furnished (which specifically includes a pillow and quilt, but not sheets or utensils) and that the dorm is called Mühlbachäcker a name which I can't begin to pronounce.
13. Februar 2008
The Golden Ticket
The first bit of uncertainty about this whole Germany thing has just fallen. I now know when I'm going and how I'm getting there. I just bought my ticket. I leave March 18th on British Airways, which Nigel told me is the way to go. Truthfully, it was just the cheapest option. I found the ticket through Kayak.com for 805$. 805$ kinda blows, but I figure they are sending me nearly 5000 miles in less than 20 hours and then bringing me back in four months, so I really can't complain.
As far as housing goes it's still up in the air. The lady at the Studentenwerk (Housing Authority, kinda) sent me my options for housing. I thought it said I could live in a residential community OR a dorm, but after asking for Julia's advice on which I should pick, she informed me that I could live in a residential community IN a dorm. This misunderstanding does not bode well for my future dealings with German bureaucracy. Anyways, chances are, though I'm not certain, I will be living with Herr Felix Piaskowski and his associates for the princely sum of ~203 Euros per month. Thank the Gods of Poverty for the Pell Grant, because this trip would not exist without it. How do you say Ramen Noodles in German? The answer is " Instant-Nudelsuppen." Fun Fact: Wikipedia says Ramen noodles are considered ethnic food in Germany.
As far as housing goes it's still up in the air. The lady at the Studentenwerk (Housing Authority, kinda) sent me my options for housing. I thought it said I could live in a residential community OR a dorm, but after asking for Julia's advice on which I should pick, she informed me that I could live in a residential community IN a dorm. This misunderstanding does not bode well for my future dealings with German bureaucracy. Anyways, chances are, though I'm not certain, I will be living with Herr Felix Piaskowski and his associates for the princely sum of ~203 Euros per month. Thank the Gods of Poverty for the Pell Grant, because this trip would not exist without it. How do you say Ramen Noodles in German? The answer is " Instant-Nudelsuppen." Fun Fact: Wikipedia says Ramen noodles are considered ethnic food in Germany.
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