tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28029408535392709592024-03-21T11:45:03.440+01:00The Desperate HausfrauThe ongoing story of my transformation from career-minded American mom to German Hausfrau...Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger55125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2802940853539270959.post-18135690110916727542012-06-14T23:18:00.001+02:002012-06-14T23:18:20.442+02:00That pesky German languageA frighteningly prolific grammarian friend challenged me to write a blog about German language foibles that irritate me. It's one of the unexpected perils of being a pedantic expat - as I become more proficient in their language, Germans' own abuses of their native tongue start to grate.<br />
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We'll skip over, for the purposes of this rant, my neighbors' use of the dative when genitive is clearly called for, or their consistent conversion of subordinate clauses into main clauses through incorrect verb placement (you don't have to know any German: just trust me that these are big no-no's). No, what makes me crazy is the ubiquitous use of English in daily German.<br />
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You'd think it would make my life easier, right? Wrong. When one studies and sweats and strives to build up a vocabulary, only to discover that the sought-after word is, well, borrowed from one's own mother language - it's enough to drive one to giving up all pretenses and just speaking English to the neighbors with some Michael Fassbinder accent.<br />
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But you start to get used to seeing it. First graders in our school suffer a month's worth of phonetics training setbacks when they finally get to the letter 'c', since the kids are given words like 'Cowboy' and 'Clown' to practice with. Problem is, all the vowels-sounds in those words (ow and oy) aren't spelled that way in German! So the poor kids first attempts sound like 'Kovboeee' and 'Klovn'. It must be admitted, however, that German has adopted those concepts, so the kids already know the (spoken) words.<br />
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Then there are the cases of words taken from English and proudly touted as such - but with a different meeting. 'Typ', or 'guy', comes from 'type', but that's not the common meaning of the word. 'Mobbing' means harassment - whether by one person or many, all at once or over a period of time. The sense of a chaotic unthinking mass of people is gone. And that a cell or mobile is called a 'Handy' is just a complete abuse.<br />
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'Sorry' (pronounced with an infuriatingly soft 'r' sound - Sohhhhrhhheee) and 'Ladies and Gen-tle-men' are heard daily. <br />
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Probably my biggest peeve revolved around Germans' tendency to adopt English words when it's really not necessary. I might be inclined to tolerate the obsessive use of English technology terms: 'Keyboard' instead of 'Tastatur', 'Laptop', the respectably germanized 'simsen' (SMS-ing) and 'texten'. But 'City' and (movie) 'Star' both are a bit superfluous, oder?<br />
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Gerunds are particularly ripe for the picking: 'meeting' (business usage), 'training', 'peeling' (skin care) - it seems to me there could be perfectly cromulant German words for such things - it's not as if these activities and concepts only became poplar in this country since America and England became cool!<br />
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Next time maybe I'll public a polemic about the TShirt industry in this country and the silly things Germans uncomprehendingly put on their bodies. But now it's time for bed.<br />
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Ciao.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2802940853539270959.post-3317000920682161632011-06-12T14:30:00.003+02:002011-06-12T14:37:48.360+02:00The perils of living near familyI have a very crafty mother-in-law - she has everything Martha Stewart has, except a gazillion bucks and a prison record. One side effect of this, as I found when we moved over here to be near them, was that our house has slowly filled with ceramic pieces (onion keepers, wall art and clocks, for example) and fabric crafts (like all the curtains we have) provided by her.<br /><br />But eventually you get sick of looking at even curtains made with love. So when the husband found me changing out the curtains in our bedroom, he teased me about daring to throw out something made by the monster-in-law. I replied, 'As much as I like your mother, I can't keep everything she made lying around forever'.<br /><br />To which he replied, big eyed and lip a-trembling, 'Even me?'<br /><br />Crap.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2802940853539270959.post-9455737310761928462010-11-15T20:10:00.003+01:002010-11-15T20:39:12.132+01:00School DazeOk, now we have 2 Gymnasia (Gymnasiums? Gymnasien?) checked off. The first is our local 'bilingual' Gymnasium. The second is the 'science' themed school in the city (still to follow: the 'classical languages' school and the 'fine arts' school).<br /><br />Now, to be fair, all of these Gymnasia have to provide the same basic courses, leading to the series of courses and standardized exams that make up the <span style="font-style: italic;">Arbitur</span> after the 12th grade. But in the lower grades (5-9) each has a extra periods a week around which they can build a theme (such as bilingual instruction or 'Science Plus'), and which can be completed in advanced courses in the upper grades (10-12).<br /><br />But of course, as your local English-speaking expat, I'm drooling over the chance for my boy to attend the bilingual school, where I hope that the classes, starting in 7th grade, which are taught in English, will bring him along as well. He needs that kick-in-the-pants that only a teacher and course work can provide to get him reading and writing in English (and I checked out those textbooks - they don't look dumbed-down).<br /><br />But the school is clear on the other side of the city, reachable only via a 30 minute 2-bus trip (or a very understanding taxi-driving mother with time for the round trip). And the other school we visited is only a 12 minute bus trip away, is likely to be the choice of many of his friends, has an excellent reputation too, and has (nail-in-the-coffin) a kick-ass Lego robotics after-school program.<br /><br />So I'm in a bind here. Even the six-sigma school ranking spreadsheet I worked up can't really be tricked into making the bilingual school the absolute winner. That distance issue is really a killer! <br /><br />What's a desperate ex-pat to do?<br /><br /><br />p.s.<br />One new question brought up on these visits - both schools touted their connection with certification orgs... will my kids need to get a Cambridge certificate or TOEFL exam grade to prove to people that they can speak English? hmm.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2802940853539270959.post-232585484375769422010-11-05T14:57:00.004+01:002010-11-05T15:34:14.322+01:00School DaysNow that little A.'s firmly settled into 1st grade, it's time to start prep for P.'s transition to his new school. This is a big step - not only will he spend the next 8-9 years there, but in my darker moments I think it will determine his destiny.<br /><br />First some background: Germany has traditionally divided its post-primary school school system into 3 tracks: Gymnasium, the highest level whose <span style="font-style: italic;">Abitur</span> certificate is required for college entry (and which goes to grade 12 or 13), Realschule, where the focus is on practical training (and which goes to grade 10, with the possibility thereafter to finish at a Gymnasium), and Hauptschule (main school), whose purpose is to get a basic education into the students. Additionally there are special needs schools as well as continuing ed. schools.<br /><br />The kids are channeled into one of these schools via a recommendation from their teachers in the 4th grade; in NRW these 'recommendations' are still binding - that is, the parents cannot overrule the recommendation and apply to a higher school.<br /><br />This system strikes many Germans as less than ideal. Reform is remarkably difficult, though, as anyone whose ever been involved in education can tell you. In recent years the trend has been toward a half-way reform: Gesamtschule, which offer 2 or more of the above tracks. Theoretically, the pupils have mixed classes through 6th grade, at which point they are put into one of the traditional tracks (this eval also happens at that point in the other schools). The advantage is, with the Gesamtschule you don't have to change schools, only class.<br /><br />In our city (of just over 100,00 people) we have 4 Gymnasium, 2 Gesamtschule, 2 Realschule, and 1 Hauptschule. The Hauptschule are falling out of favor as ever higher standards are set by employers for new hires.<br /><br />Now, this may seem all very complicated. And it is. But that's only half the story. For once we have the recommendation for our son, we have to apply to an appropriate school. How to choose a school? Well, of course you visit them to find out how much of glowing text from the school's homepage is true. To help us out, all the schools will be having open houses over the next 3 months, during which the kids can even take part in sample classes. Somehow we must get past 'the architectural sins of previous decades' (as one newspaper article put it) to figure out if P. fits there.<br /><br />Of course I'm asking everyone I know why they picked the school their older children attended. The answers seem to fall into a few categories:<br /><ol><li>It is closest to home</li><li>I/my spouse went there and it was a great place</li><li>My child felt most comfortable there</li><li>It had the best X program (gift children, special needs, technical, music, etc)</li><li>It had the best rep.<br /></li></ol>Since the school 'diplomas' are standardized here, the meaning of a schools' reputation seems to mean more, how many students learn enough to get the diploma with good grades, versus how much the school's name will help you later to get into a university or get a job.<br /><br />Now that I've given you a nutshell explanation of the entire German secondary school program, I'll leave you all in suspense until after the first visit: Saturday, to the city's bilingual (German/English) gymnasium. The week after comes parent-teacher conference, where we'll get an unofficial, preliminary, we-ain't-promising-anything hint as to perhaps what kind of a theoretical recommendation our son might possibly receive.<br /><br />Fingers crossed. For what - that he'll get a certain kind of recommendation? No! That I'll stay sane through this process.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2802940853539270959.post-76987201759883888342010-10-27T22:55:00.002+02:002010-10-27T23:08:05.386+02:00SarcasmA busy week for your correspondent.<br /><br />Tuesday night I had German class. It's my weekly opportunity to shed the feeling of being a foreigner among Germans. Instead I go there for the experience of seeing a German (my teacher, Andrea) among foreigners. It's refreshing. This week took an unexpected twist, when we practiced introducing sarcasm to our speech.<br /><br />Yes, in the hopes of expanding our ability communicate our teacher is trying to impress on us the importance of mastering gestures, exclamations and even intonation. So we had fun the other night expressing irony and irritation with phrases such as 'Thank you very much' and 'So, you will be visiting us in our office then'.<br /><br />Little did I know that I would have the chance to use it Wednesday, when 1st grader A. and I were almost run down by an inattentive driver at an intersection on the way home from school. Thank goodness it was me, a hyperactively paranoid mother, in the crosswalk, and not some preoccupied chatting 2nd graders, because it was my booming exclamation of 'Scheiße' (shit) that got the accelerating driver's attention in time.<br /><br />I turned back to him from the relative safety of the other side of the median line and scolded very loudly 'Perhaps you could pay a bit more attention, please' (in perfect German, I might add). He heard me - his window was open and we made eye contact. It was just dripping with the right intonation of sarcasm - I may have left a puddle of it behind me in the middle of the street. An ancient but spry gentleman, who was crossing the street towards us, looked at me with a nod and said, as the car drove off 'Just so'.<br /><br />I may master this language yet, if I don't get killed by errant drivers first.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2802940853539270959.post-5364808541528359262010-10-27T13:52:00.005+02:002010-10-27T14:21:25.172+02:00Da BombWorld War II is still, to the people living around here, a Current Event. Not in the way that your more extreme American Southerner refuses to accept that the Confederacy has fallen. No, folks in the Ruhr River and lower Rhine areas constantly find old unexploded bombs during routine excavations (i.e. for roads, new subways, building cellars).<br /><br />Since the area where we live is pretty much the heart of heavy industry in Germany, it was bombed pretty heavily during the war. Earlier this year a member of a bomb squad was killed during the removal of one 65-year old bomb. So naturally, the guys who defuse and dispose of these bombs are treated with the same respect that Americans would accord to NYC firefighters.<br /><br />We've had at least 4 or 5 such discoveries in the area so far this year. The latest, in Duisburg, an (American!) 5-zenter munition, was discovered yesterday at the construction site of a new intersection (on a stretch of road I used to travel regularly). <a style="" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.xtranews.de/wp-content/uploads/2010/10/PlanBombeAKSd.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 416px; height: 294px;" src="http://www.xtranews.de/wp-content/uploads/2010/10/PlanBombeAKSd.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>It will require the mandatory evacuation of a 250m (approx. 1/8 mile) radius, and the recommended evacuation of all within a 500m (.3 mile) radius. Luckily this one is located in a relatively developed area; one of the rare agricultural areas tucked amidst the conurbation* that is Duisburg and Düsseldorf. Mostly affected are the 4-legged inhabitants of a riding school. But you can see on the map how close it is to real populations centers!<br /><br /><br />More on how the bomb perhaps got there: <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bombing_of_Duisburg_in_World_War_II">The Bombing of Duisburg</a><br /><br /><br /><br />* I like to throw in real English words no one uses, but that Germans think everyone would know.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2802940853539270959.post-49359281828831266772010-07-20T16:11:00.003+02:002010-07-20T16:16:39.400+02:00Out of the mouths of babes....From the 'Embarrassing things your kids say' department....<br /><br />Kids always ask why some items allowed to grown-ups aren't allowed to them. Coke - caffeine. Cigarettes - bad for the lungs. Why can't they have a sip of Papa's beer or Mama's wine? Because it will stunt their growth.<br /><br />So today I attended the farewell mass at Anke's kindergarten - all the departing, new first graders sat up front. The theme was personal growth - all the cool things that are going to happen to the kids in 1st grade. The pastoral minister asked the children why children grow, but grown-ups, like her, don't.<br /><br />Those how know Anke probably already know this is going to end badly.<br /><br />Anke immediately stuck up her hand and hazarded the guess (clearly audible to the entire assembly) that perhaps the lady didn't grow anymore was that she drank too much alcohol.<br /><br />I may not be able to go back to this kindergarten ever again!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2802940853539270959.post-54178474126029311862010-04-20T10:31:00.003+02:002010-04-20T10:40:36.059+02:00The economic crisisLocal communities here are, like governments everywhere, viscously cash strapped. A few examples in the press recently:<br /><br />The harsh winter almost bankrupted municipalities attempting to keep the streets clear. Not only the cost of overtime labor and fuel for the plows were problems, but simply getting salt to strew on the roads. However, a new problem has surfaced: what to do with all the gravel put down on the streets for traction (in lieu of the more commonly used sand in the States). Special uses for this material are being sought (i.e. so it can be sold!) - otherwise, the cities are stuck with it!<br /><br />Here in our city, there have been several projects underway for a few years - a new library/cultural center, an expansion to the castle (which is now used as a museum), renovations to schools and gyms. However, admidst the closing of swimming pools and sports facilities, curtailment of festivals, etc, the city has confessed that it might not be able to outfit these new factilities when they are finished. So perhaps no new books for the library, exhibitions for the museum, equipment for the gyms....Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2802940853539270959.post-44307641980534393402010-04-19T09:15:00.001+02:002010-04-20T10:40:15.153+02:00North Sea VacationGermans are determined vacationers. Enter a German bookstore, and there may be more shelf devoted to travel guides than there will be to all other non-fiction combined. While warm, sunny, seaside space places like Mallorca and Italy feature prominently in the selection, you can't underestimate the German desire to get to sea, without traveling all that far.<br /><br />Thus I found myself visiting the <a href="http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&source=s_q&hl=en&geocode=&q=Ne%C3%9Fmersiel%E2%80%8E&sll=53.676782,7.351913&sspn=0.131169,0.240669&ie=UTF8&hq=&hnear=Ne%C3%9Fmersiel+Dornum,+Aurich,+Lower+Saxony,+Germany&ll=53.666205,7.355175&spn=0.0715,0.120335&z=13">North Sea </a>over the recent Easter vacation, with the kids, husband and mother-in-law in tow. We stayed in what is knows as a vacation village (Feriendorf), which was set aside by the local municipality for the purpose of building vacation homes (but which are not run as a resort).<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Vacation Village</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2x2e4Axj22o2u5ZED9tsGijTcsOjHWddrRd53xInR-U4kcfOTU3352sl21i577VWtx6sd-9h9TAy3_zz9PB4W-09Qt_6iaCaWFbpnqgWPro58nJlYe3jB3JHuXK4ragfdEf8LJAoPInlh/s1600/Anke_IMG_0503.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2x2e4Axj22o2u5ZED9tsGijTcsOjHWddrRd53xInR-U4kcfOTU3352sl21i577VWtx6sd-9h9TAy3_zz9PB4W-09Qt_6iaCaWFbpnqgWPro58nJlYe3jB3JHuXK4ragfdEf8LJAoPInlh/s200/Anke_IMG_0503.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462116969967006178" border="0" /></a><br />The village was built up like a little town, around a central playground, and contained a grocery, bike rentals, and best of all - an indoor playground to which we got free entry (by virtue of having payed the Spa Tax). Paths throughout were nicely paved - providing a palette for little girls who wanted to create life-sized princesses.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Wildlife</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7V51gXtY4uWQcK71-0lG2554Wchxx4pc0T15m_VZMJTdApj392RjeNtAYQ2KDmWgrapb86p3is2RmcEg4A1hetQpAgJInINtqqIJ1h0goT0X-WHMGCrnkNmblxdsD8LQJv7de7lAopHxD/s1600/Anke_Peter_IMG_0484.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7V51gXtY4uWQcK71-0lG2554Wchxx4pc0T15m_VZMJTdApj392RjeNtAYQ2KDmWgrapb86p3is2RmcEg4A1hetQpAgJInINtqqIJ1h0goT0X-WHMGCrnkNmblxdsD8LQJv7de7lAopHxD/s200/Anke_Peter_IMG_0484.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462117650212099266" border="0" /></a>Being on the North Sea, we of course had to visit the Seal Aid Station, where they tried to rehabilitate injured or helpless seals for re-release into the wild. We watched them being fed, and even got to pet one - albeit one long since no longer wild (or even living for that matter).<br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">The Dike</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv95CNLoR1ifIb_Tq77WojthUolEZW90rOZefvrPyoNbnFTd6k_HAHYsnxGWUfTW06ZR1i9yTQ6r3O8Sfb0dt2KNixJ0xst9f8jlWkQd96lXQL4iUNw1zX7xbPQg5JJmHQQg-Sa-cRhu7f/s1600/Anke_IMG_0496.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv95CNLoR1ifIb_Tq77WojthUolEZW90rOZefvrPyoNbnFTd6k_HAHYsnxGWUfTW06ZR1i9yTQ6r3O8Sfb0dt2KNixJ0xst9f8jlWkQd96lXQL4iUNw1zX7xbPQg5JJmHQQg-Sa-cRhu7f/s200/Anke_IMG_0496.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462116960474266786" border="0" /></a><br />Like the more famous Dutch coast, the German coast is also heavily fortif<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKNpnpe1RO_6hLRMl6GfannLUiFXGmMh1DJI0awltu6ZYtjY6jFiasGMoOhX7Hb2m5rR9OYrkcfsOjTKxkL5MqCcHglHgcSjoVCU58sK9WNqEOv7UNC2ImZEKvewOM2Li86yyf-4Rp5xN0/s1600/Anke_IMG_0492.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKNpnpe1RO_6hLRMl6GfannLUiFXGmMh1DJI0awltu6ZYtjY6jFiasGMoOhX7Hb2m5rR9OYrkcfsOjTKxkL5MqCcHglHgcSjoVCU58sK9WNqEOv7UNC2ImZEKvewOM2Li86yyf-4Rp5xN0/s200/Anke_IMG_0492.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462116950757868322" border="0" /></a>ied against the sea with dikes. These are 7 or 8 meter high berms of grass-covered stone and earth, usually further protected from the waves and storms by stone covered paths on the sea side (Anke on the left). The beach (for bathing is allowed in some areas) appears at low tide as a very long, very flat expanse of fine sand, reached by descending stairs to the sand (see Anke escaping the quicksand below) . Being by far the highest spot in the area, you can see forever from the tops of them - Peter and Anke are here visible with a wind turbine farm in the background.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNmiXp8-RrKQ4mV7iOkHkZdY3ws_-a0B2VX8wNQ0GlepwfOYMpfxZQS3EoX1nwy3r1HYD2dcEjgOvXGRE41sO3IDYrAhT2gtpyScubtGvvHCFD8kpMVttQVJBzYQzIqTMrm5A4LerF1Xgl/s1600/Anke_Peter_IMG_0501.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 199px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNmiXp8-RrKQ4mV7iOkHkZdY3ws_-a0B2VX8wNQ0GlepwfOYMpfxZQS3EoX1nwy3r1HYD2dcEjgOvXGRE41sO3IDYrAhT2gtpyScubtGvvHCFD8kpMVttQVJBzYQzIqTMrm5A4LerF1Xgl/s200/Anke_Peter_IMG_0501.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462117659611696194" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtnjfYaGXLZP3LAvYr0Yn23uDHAV3y33bAzNjlaIz5wCi9qbXZPd1du_Do-RXT6tcp-iF8BV-DgOs8iQfxZrKR7VGXtHJ9CgRxF5R-FYrb9Vutx9UXMEBKGz7aN6kiR4vH45uyPO5cZFc3/s1600/Stefan_IMG_0500.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 159px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtnjfYaGXLZP3LAvYr0Yn23uDHAV3y33bAzNjlaIz5wCi9qbXZPd1du_Do-RXT6tcp-iF8BV-DgOs8iQfxZrKR7VGXtHJ9CgRxF5R-FYrb9Vutx9UXMEBKGz7aN6kiR4vH45uyPO5cZFc3/s200/Stefan_IMG_0500.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462131752290732546" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />We were there over Good Friday, which is normally very strictly observed with almost all businesses and shops closing, but in spa locations (that's apparently an official designation), they are exempt to some extent from this rule. This is because, since most visitors to the area (who are the primary economic drivers!) come over holidays, the businesses must be open then in order to survive.<br /><br />In fact, the region impressed me with the determination entire communities showed to draw in tourists. This was a positive thing. In the US, such vacation<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvDqoxnnrVy_DRRvSpy8LLofoJ-_HURUl5dHAd1boh2KSc2zUc4e7H448REQGf7GKY5PDuOQ6AHDFjbrJdfQmTBE_pNaKrZxEbph2ORWaQJkuKIaIj87d0KA35w_Uq76H1yc9bcylgyNDp/s1600/Anke_IMG_0528.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvDqoxnnrVy_DRRvSpy8LLofoJ-_HURUl5dHAd1boh2KSc2zUc4e7H448REQGf7GKY5PDuOQ6AHDFjbrJdfQmTBE_pNaKrZxEbph2ORWaQJkuKIaIj87d0KA35w_Uq76H1yc9bcylgyNDp/s200/Anke_IMG_0528.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462116979576504882" border="0" /></a> destinations spring up, it's rather a casual thing, with the free market (with maybe a little help from the gov't) determining what amenities show up. Here it seemed different - whether it was the subsidized bus system to whisk you around, or the multitude of cheap indoor attractions (it was March, after all), it just seemed like the entire affair had been organized to keep the tourists showing up year-round. So, for example, you could visit the indoor activity center in Norden, or rent beach chairs to protect you from the wicked wind (both visible behind the shivering Anke).<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">The Weather</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7rhGFLW5jPHw16mhVXFcWuD-_Iq6TL_0NkLeZxQxhpowWAQKs1cOuN-MG-DZN8lR_5p_BLknko_6zTyF4lDCuRzQDi6XWr-R5XMPwyzzpcNz_wKYEHURTg8p2LDKq5YYT82bwx3O9eRN2/s1600/Anke_Peter_IMG_0517.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7rhGFLW5jPHw16mhVXFcWuD-_Iq6TL_0NkLeZxQxhpowWAQKs1cOuN-MG-DZN8lR_5p_BLknko_6zTyF4lDCuRzQDi6XWr-R5XMPwyzzpcNz_wKYEHURTg8p2LDKq5YYT82bwx3O9eRN2/s200/Anke_Peter_IMG_0517.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462118303984510146" border="0" /></a>Why is Anke shivering? Because it was <span style="font-weight: bold;">COLD</span>. And because I vastly under<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6iQAfZ1OxSb0VrEQIDTEa5NZ9onjAZymBFchnLt2Oi6kgufvaAyG1UPBCMdNag4sB02k2odnGXTeT_CtLJ6vbJP6w0fVXzZNCxhoM6AZ7MLFljcQaipZCFMrnNVJqusSS0rycFTymIrdu/s1600/Anke_Peter_IMG_0515.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6iQAfZ1OxSb0VrEQIDTEa5NZ9onjAZymBFchnLt2Oi6kgufvaAyG1UPBCMdNag4sB02k2odnGXTeT_CtLJ6vbJP6w0fVXzZNCxhoM6AZ7MLFljcQaipZCFMrnNVJqusSS0rycFTymIrdu/s200/Anke_Peter_IMG_0515.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462118302090485298" border="0" /></a>estimated the wind. March at the 53rd Latitude isn't balmy or especially sunny. Add to that the bracing wind that was almost constant - remember those wind turbines in the picture above - and you have conditions that make you wonder WHY these pictures show so many other tourists besides us.<br /><br />The reason: <span style="font-weight: bold;">Germans are tough, de</span><span style="font-weight: bold;">termined vac</span><span style="font-weight: bold;">ationers.</span> No, really. They work hard, and so by God, they are going to have a good tim<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEWrI8RVupMKlJAr5rjhGY_o434GS6PEz6Ts0wEAcOOilrUbblrfmUoUmzliX2VhuZglilhqpCAOXT_jKc4728jfRskdH1w22gzPxCBKZO_MXuciWLmGpTuDnaEouaDJIDhbxnr_YdG74h/s1600/Anke_IMG_0507.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEWrI8RVupMKlJAr5rjhGY_o434GS6PEz6Ts0wEAcOOilrUbblrfmUoUmzliX2VhuZglilhqpCAOXT_jKc4728jfRskdH1w22gzPxCBKZO_MXuciWLmGpTuDnaEouaDJIDhbxnr_YdG74h/s200/Anke_IMG_0507.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462116972418833618" border="0" /></a>e even if it kills them.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0EQMn25uTHQTAjGJtLF6MRv5K16b0jt1hqS2npTt10BTORyHRL3d92u4plczTmaQOeYKmVI7jRgtoEMgViTrz4pNw3fwJ5xNaz8tRGXL9ace6zBZXZ8CMeKMYsQLeVgQAWH9lPa6t58hp/s1600/Anke_Oma_IMG_0526.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0EQMn25uTHQTAjGJtLF6MRv5K16b0jt1hqS2npTt10BTORyHRL3d92u4plczTmaQOeYKmVI7jRgtoEMgViTrz4pNw3fwJ5xNaz8tRGXL9ace6zBZXZ8CMeKMYsQLeVgQAWH9lPa6t58hp/s200/Anke_Oma_IMG_0526.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462117641576342882" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />The climate in these communities on the North Sea has a reputation as healthy (sea air)- there were numerous Spas and Saunas catering to people who just wanted to relax as well as to those there for a Kur (a sort of German health-vacation). So despite the weather, there <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVxnq2Vw0Zqj9eoVKJCGvmbXZiavRZGj9TQV6e61lzCCWs6dgKw32dw-flMzm2f_qzDtB0GXsvNcZxqne_mqsa7FkA4r5-OQ2Ax5pWr2NaNeprGi_Zk1evLKWZS7nRHnBTR74kqpKANC0e/s1600/Anke_Peter_IMG_0518.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVxnq2Vw0Zqj9eoVKJCGvmbXZiavRZGj9TQV6e61lzCCWs6dgKw32dw-flMzm2f_qzDtB0GXsvNcZxqne_mqsa7FkA4r5-OQ2Ax5pWr2NaNeprGi_Zk1evLKWZS7nRHnBTR74kqpKANC0e/s200/Anke_Peter_IMG_0518.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462118309340726834" border="0" /></a>was a healthy number of visitors; I can only imagine it in summer when even the <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcsVNS4lrdM9sodExi0GKA3TR4nsqp-2Bd66LV4aK1rHIvEGBxia2Jz893szjv9mydchC-qJM-KMtDtGBpGLi8aJP3gO1hoWLE5FFc2twVtw5JrDgqEJan-i2uSp1PVJ-j5hIrSbmUjWOB/s1600/Peter_Stefan_IMG_0520.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 199px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcsVNS4lrdM9sodExi0GKA3TR4nsqp-2Bd66LV4aK1rHIvEGBxia2Jz893szjv9mydchC-qJM-KMtDtGBpGLi8aJP3gO1hoWLE5FFc2twVtw5JrDgqEJan-i2uSp1PVJ-j5hIrSbmUjWOB/s200/Peter_Stefan_IMG_0520.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462118326703877586" border="0" /></a>casual vacationers show up. My mother-in-law contends that it gets quite hot there, but I can't imagine ever being warm there with that wind! And even in front of a beach, there is still the fortified walkway (see the kids balancing on the wave-breaking stones), just to keep the beach there!<br /><br />But on the day you see in these pictures, it was relatively sunny, so despite the risk of chilblains Uschi (the m<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij5098gw_0LKanGh6YyQgEr9odq01tCf7UeissmkORUCmbwUmgw-xiRxFpwTlV2njKVuYjTNCbF3ISeiD_OfjEx7f2KjufF5IYg6iAS21gvm7BscN8EV8hmSKn3_9EldIPPUX8E1Qhc_l3/s1600/Peter_IMG_0531.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij5098gw_0LKanGh6YyQgEr9odq01tCf7UeissmkORUCmbwUmgw-xiRxFpwTlV2njKVuYjTNCbF3ISeiD_OfjEx7f2KjufF5IYg6iAS21gvm7BscN8EV8hmSKn3_9EldIPPUX8E1Qhc_l3/s200/Peter_IMG_0531.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462118316491394898" border="0" /></a>other-in-law) & I decided to take the children for ice <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWSIlH-T3ShziDBLp_Fz5h_M01he5vTHn_62AJXer2eam7oirNgZn08P1h60sVwXeexhynduCK0AbUdNb6zBdYduPwUZPnJtWvD1UtlifMhPqv4s5QhRJWiFbnbqlpDmtMVPMJMbf1Qj9n/s1600/Anke_IMG_0530.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 183px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWSIlH-T3ShziDBLp_Fz5h_M01he5vTHn_62AJXer2eam7oirNgZn08P1h60sVwXeexhynduCK0AbUdNb6zBdYduPwUZPnJtWvD1UtlifMhPqv4s5QhRJWiFbnbqlpDmtMVPMJMbf1Qj9n/s200/Anke_IMG_0530.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462117634384053250" border="0" /></a>cream. This is another thing about Germans you must understand: <span style="font-weight: bold;">They are tough, determined ice cream eaters</span>. Any time is good for ice cream, and as long as it's sunny, they will risk losing toes in order to enjoy their ice cream outside. I respect this, but Uschi and I still decided to sample a local specialty: <span style="font-weight: bold;">Grog</span>. That's the kind of Kur you need in that weather.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKeymx1SsUIT14OwwdsuoO-ekrHWNOp1tpcXJVOF2AJW1Ef2Gl9gNii0J8T3IWURouDq20UXvkYA-JXziGTNG2l7z9g1QSUvvXDPiE_9bqVcTh45Pkj3FrSxjjdaNvh9zrOabr3JzEcQ0x/s1600/Uschi_IMG_0532.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKeymx1SsUIT14OwwdsuoO-ekrHWNOp1tpcXJVOF2AJW1Ef2Gl9gNii0J8T3IWURouDq20UXvkYA-JXziGTNG2l7z9g1QSUvvXDPiE_9bqVcTh45Pkj3FrSxjjdaNvh9zrOabr3JzEcQ0x/s200/Uschi_IMG_0532.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462131340906488338" border="0" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2802940853539270959.post-59168787005540836712010-03-05T21:42:00.002+01:002010-03-05T21:52:50.541+01:00Slowing ticketsOne aspect of life in Germany that's always fascinated me is their relationship with the automobile. <br /><br />Americans have this image of Germans as being very conscientious rules-followers. This is definitely not true when it comes to driving, probably as it deals with autos, which are stand high next to beer and soccer in the German pantheon. Speed limits are routinely ignored, especially in areas the driver knows well (and is therefore well acquainted with the permanent speed cameras).<br /><br />However, the transgressions usually involve SPEEDING.<br /><br />It's been a tough winter here - for the lower Rhine, that is. One or two 4-inch snow falls, many nasty little dustings, during which you can't decide whether the broom or shovel is called for. They, and the unaccustomed frost-freeze cycle this winter, have left the roads around here full of Peugot-swallowing ruts.<br /><br />So a local bus driver was very surprised when he was pulled over in his private car, for 'slowing'. Driving 25 kmh (15) in a 50 (30 mph) zone. Because of the pot holes.<br /><br />After his complaints to the press, the police dropped the fine. But he's not letting it go... after all, the city wouldn't pay for damage to his car, but want to fine him actually helping conserve the roads...<br /><br />I love this country.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2802940853539270959.post-58424502155581838102009-11-10T09:49:00.002+01:002009-11-10T10:05:07.201+01:00The Swine FluYes, Germany is under attack from the Swine Flu. But it's interesting to watch the reaction:<br /><ul><li>Many people are upset because supposedly politicians and civil servants are getting the "better" vaccine - the one without "mercury and nanoparticles" as someone informed me today. Whatever they are getting, they're not handling the public relations very well.</li><li>Possibly as a result of the above rumors, many people are deciding against the vaccine. One piece I saw in the paper cited a survey in which only 30% of Germans were hoping to get it.</li><li>The Health Ministry has issued a directive requiring all those in close contact to a flu victim to stay home for 7 days (i.e. parents of a sick child).<br /></li></ul>Do you actually want to get the vaccine? It's not that easy.<br /><ul><li>Lists of doctors administering the vaccine are in the paper. There is just one in our immediate area. When I called him regarding getting the kids done, the receptionist told me they don't do kids without an acknowledgement from the pediatrician that the child can receive it.</li><li>Our pediatrician's receptionist has never heard of such a thing. The kids and I will head in there this afternoon to chat with him about that - possibly exposing us all to the flu as the waiting room is sure to be filled with fevered children.</li></ul>Meanwhile, one school in the next city closed last week after most of a class fell ill during a field trip. Both the kindergarten and the school sent home letters yesterday saying that they'd had cases reported, but please, KEINE PANIK! The kindergarten had big signs around informing the parents that one of the kids had been sent home with it on Friday.<br /><br />But panicking the Schwafheimers seem to be: when I took Anke to kindergarten this morning, she was the first child there. Usually she's 3rd or 4th. Only 1 further child came in while I was talking with a teacher for 10 minutes (helping inform me of the other, above beliefs). Meanwhile, I've been told, a lot of parents are excusing their children from the after-school program for the week, partly because the teachers there, who are still on their feet, have to combine all the kids into one or two groups.<br /><br />Facemasks have yet to make an appearance.<br /><br />And yes, we know at least one of the cases: a friend of Pete's, his little brother a close friend of Anke's, and yes, we've had close contact with the family in the past few days. But what can you do, other than risk exposure by going to the doctor's to get the shot? Oh, the irony.<br /><br />Maybe I should start laying in supplies!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2802940853539270959.post-872358433709447992009-06-07T19:40:00.008+02:002009-06-23T21:33:15.847+02:00Back in the SaddleIt was pointed out to me that I've been somewhat remiss in keeping this blog going. To all 5 or so of my faithful readers, <span style="font-style: italic;">tut mir leid</span>.<br /><br />The biggest news lately has been celebrating S.'s birthday. He chose to celebrate his 40+ birthday at Ketteler Hof, the playground to end all playgrounds.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgezOEBhoKUYI5MI7AZOTDiX2NVaNL5Ee2rBL9PymJPdSzZPol_OMgVVeBEfBMFj9QakWh5zsNxc8ri-uZ4ycdacshFra9bZ8AU3GKwJYaReQLfK2ia7NjH4daMYlAUmkWp-4Dc731EIOU-/s1600-h/KH+-+PeterAnke.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgezOEBhoKUYI5MI7AZOTDiX2NVaNL5Ee2rBL9PymJPdSzZPol_OMgVVeBEfBMFj9QakWh5zsNxc8ri-uZ4ycdacshFra9bZ8AU3GKwJYaReQLfK2ia7NjH4daMYlAUmkWp-4Dc731EIOU-/s320/KH+-+PeterAnke.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350606331046414290" border="0" /></a><br />Now, let me explain something about Germans and playgrounds. Backyards here are fairly small by American standards (or perhaps it could be said that American backyards are big by the world's standards). So if you do have a backyard here, you can put a swing set or a trampoline in it, or you can leave the room open for the kids to run in very tight circles till they drop. But many haven't any - a much higher proportion of folks live in apartments. So playgrounds can be found in just about every neighborhood, often tricked out with zipwires, groundwater pumps, and various climbing equipment. Pretty fancy stuff.<br /><br />But Ketteler Hof is something pretty special.<a style="" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2nd_rKXctHAzzJRiszhI5fCNapNoswSN970l-9nHpSnBUo88rANoigZ3ntVRUNEMVkGCkeDpj6jyAP6a1iFfB7cRL4HWR651f_J2qDepzJSziEf4E7RDNq-iWRjVYUbajIcm01oBEY-4Y/s1600-h/dc20090530-000105.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2nd_rKXctHAzzJRiszhI5fCNapNoswSN970l-9nHpSnBUo88rANoigZ3ntVRUNEMVkGCkeDpj6jyAP6a1iFfB7cRL4HWR651f_J2qDepzJSziEf4E7RDNq-iWRjVYUbajIcm01oBEY-4Y/s320/dc20090530-000105.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344660947803635058" border="0" /></a> Acre after acre of slides, pedal-powered go-carts, picknick sites, sandboxes, water slides, and climbing equipment to beat the band. Ok, you pay 10 Euros a head to get in, but compared to an amusement park, it's peanuts - and almost all the fun is kid powered.<br /><br />I'm going to shut up now and let the pictures tell the story.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeXS-i4CYB5omcUrxM0BpqEL7TlcEdgoVl7cB58uXPMA_HzgKFtDOIEx4bgAsg_KWx36fRJ3H36CzXBnyxFZYnQqpzqAj9NFuQa0oQrLdJl1LUGMX1CPPZt3x70r57o_Hxd83d4QxVrKWj/s1600-h/Anke+Becca+Slide+small.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 154px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeXS-i4CYB5omcUrxM0BpqEL7TlcEdgoVl7cB58uXPMA_HzgKFtDOIEx4bgAsg_KWx36fRJ3H36CzXBnyxFZYnQqpzqAj9NFuQa0oQrLdJl1LUGMX1CPPZt3x70r57o_Hxd83d4QxVrKWj/s320/Anke+Becca+Slide+small.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350602649803918242" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwHOM9b5g2SgbLH71rNm4jEJ8yQNRmmf0xScs2WwtHoEhQb9PjH-cX55HB8qI9WyjAMW9kQyt1rjvCOgC6PHrFURJzKsgge4QMoeuOLGvHULK8d7-PyioHAbrDx6WG1NF0iqWNWMkTx4hB/s1600-h/kh-+Peter.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwHOM9b5g2SgbLH71rNm4jEJ8yQNRmmf0xScs2WwtHoEhQb9PjH-cX55HB8qI9WyjAMW9kQyt1rjvCOgC6PHrFURJzKsgge4QMoeuOLGvHULK8d7-PyioHAbrDx6WG1NF0iqWNWMkTx4hB/s320/kh-+Peter.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350606333335996274" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLGKX9OUi5oqaP4lsGno-bZckXFFTBI86PgyX91bcQMRzPlZnQJhX6gwTt4S5hhtlV4N81IYqqdZYwH4bqMhHUcPUqmre3se6l4hIyjlaTwXttl7EAHqVq7BPA97hfMnJAWzc2KS2AMNiO/s1600-h/Becca+Alone.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLGKX9OUi5oqaP4lsGno-bZckXFFTBI86PgyX91bcQMRzPlZnQJhX6gwTt4S5hhtlV4N81IYqqdZYwH4bqMhHUcPUqmre3se6l4hIyjlaTwXttl7EAHqVq7BPA97hfMnJAWzc2KS2AMNiO/s320/Becca+Alone.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350606322931701554" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZOQkkkvB_j96rjZWO2CPDDRsr3onGj9OirsGt1M2SPVQE0k2BDlcjfJruwk1uZjExxj4vFgBrGqW9Yn01vwYN9tWZkFz3jJFuik_BrbpHboA0LMFdhfiVs_RnXfJGC_fIE4syY9fbkePR/s1600-h/dc20090530-000102.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZOQkkkvB_j96rjZWO2CPDDRsr3onGj9OirsGt1M2SPVQE0k2BDlcjfJruwk1uZjExxj4vFgBrGqW9Yn01vwYN9tWZkFz3jJFuik_BrbpHboA0LMFdhfiVs_RnXfJGC_fIE4syY9fbkePR/s320/dc20090530-000102.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344661177433658338" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2802940853539270959.post-14519895451802202292009-02-16T20:48:00.002+01:002009-02-16T20:54:18.557+01:00MassholeI started a new semester of intermediate German at the community college <span style="font-style: italic;">(Volkshochschule).</span> There are students from: Belarus, Ukraine, Russia, Kenya, Brazil, Turkey and Mongolia. We, of course, had a round of introductions. Names with far too many syllables or consonants were stumbled over. Almost everyone there, except me, can speak at least 2 other language in addition to German.<br /><br />But the big tongue twister tonight? My home state of 'Massachusetts'.<br /><br />I told them not to feel bad; I'd had decades to practice it.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2802940853539270959.post-26652204707099093742009-02-03T19:34:00.009+01:002009-02-05T20:12:23.404+01:00We three kings (and a little princess)I alluded, in the last post, to an event in which I'd be takin<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit6pfpOYWFiXOyQsx3RBjMqKQYN_KGRFm85ay6QteZrY3oz1Mu0ZdeOoGZwI6WN_M6p-B8aGMN5fLxUx-wOpaTHQLQgFBz2z8gUpdp_tMh_JOjkL9BZpbXQe74iR9ccthInYDeYfxaFadl/s1600-h/img_0074_sm.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 196px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit6pfpOYWFiXOyQsx3RBjMqKQYN_KGRFm85ay6QteZrY3oz1Mu0ZdeOoGZwI6WN_M6p-B8aGMN5fLxUx-wOpaTHQLQgFBz2z8gUpdp_tMh_JOjkL9BZpbXQe74iR9ccthInYDeYfxaFadl/s200/img_0074_sm.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299388854820377362" border="0" /></a>g the kids around the neighborhood (not murdering them). This was the "Star Singing", in which local kids, under the aegis of the Catholic Church, ring each doorbell and offer a blessing for the new year. Peter, with friends Julian and Luis, covered our street this year - by my estimate, over 200 doorbells were pushed. They were accompanied on one day by honorary princess Anke. I'm especially proud that we visited almost all the apartment buildings - the little old ladies were so happy to see the kids, even though they often stumble<img src="file:///home/becca/Desktop/img_0085.jpg" alt="" />d over lines (you can see Luis/Melchior below, posing with the cheat-sheet), and only once could be convinced to earn the title "Star Singers". When the blessing was complete, one of the kids would write on the house (in chalk; all the houses are stone here): 20 + C*M*B + 09. I used to think the initials were for Caspar, Melichior and Balthazhar, the 3 kings, but I have learned it means Christus Mansionem Benedictat, or Christ Bless this House. The numbers, the year. On the local houses <a style="" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOZmcPpm4Zd7vEgJDpqt4R-Nh2ZMXNb1kJTPXAP8S0WAOuQapD3uzxhtkbtT8YaFmjTDJz2OEF42uOZ9Lj3SV8bvybU3-MMvrZIzFbAU26dpNeX5qwuf5wxl2KM8qP2YknHX6hnE-aub98/s1600-h/img_0072_sm.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOZmcPpm4Zd7vEgJDpqt4R-Nh2ZMXNb1kJTPXAP8S0WAOuQapD3uzxhtkbtT8YaFmjTDJz2OEF42uOZ9Lj3SV8bvybU3-MMvrZIzFbAU26dpNeX5qwuf5wxl2KM8qP2YknHX6hnE-aub98/s200/img_0072_sm.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299391124085994834" border="0" /></a>you could see years' worth of childish scribblings next to the door.<br /><br />People really got into it. Several people asked especially when we'd be s<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHGy-5MozFkeMhSQhVIEBHt8bXW7nZERbghk_8QPH0hoHbsEmFpEcHH18eoDoQ5GTl1AwYOE78y6UEkTAKuDwC-0piRMa_MFbrENez9X0IW5ovlRrc-WJGKW1a80E1SgcZ70FhbI3lWFzY/s1600-h/img_0066_sm.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHGy-5MozFkeMhSQhVIEBHt8bXW7nZERbghk_8QPH0hoHbsEmFpEcHH18eoDoQ5GTl1AwYOE78y6UEkTAKuDwC-0piRMa_MFbrENez9X0IW5ovlRrc-WJGKW1a80E1SgcZ70FhbI3lWFzY/s200/img_0066_sm.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299381047833359442" border="0" /></a>topping by so they could be there. Some people going on vacation left an envelope with the neighbors. The only (moderately) unfriendly people we encountered were some self-avowed Protestants who just wanted to through a little money in and have the kids go away. Many more said "We're Protestant but we always love this!".<br /><br />We went out on two afternoons, Jan 3 and 4th, in bitter cold, and quit shortly before finishing up the entire street because it was threatening to snow (eventually paralyzing the lower Rhine with 5 inches of powder).<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0e9OR20163K64esiFAfUbZTK7CEmUZmA5g_KV1lSkGBtHlS6rBjgI_K2h9DLS26_JkueQFRsNA4a9L_EkylTDgo26aFUxLTgqZC7dfuv5KgXQoEK6Wc_tOeXjOEXfWJqAsMrpxmKCaslM/s1600-h/img_0086_sm.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0e9OR20163K64esiFAfUbZTK7CEmUZmA5g_KV1lSkGBtHlS6rBjgI_K2h9DLS26_JkueQFRsNA4a9L_EkylTDgo26aFUxLTgqZC7dfuv5KgXQoEK6Wc_tOeXjOEXfWJqAsMrpxmKCaslM/s200/img_0086_sm.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299383205746717042" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgObTGpbr8gGQIc2UkYwhUDCAHuB7RSApblRK8_Zwytk2prDT-EObSOjY9Y4DyH_OfbgUdw4cMw_j2D4SbWyOV_l_nFg9vXHxTug45g1fG7g3sx8-NPnxDsv4VLeeToEF1qrCxoq0p3jz9X/s1600-h/img_0078_sm.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgObTGpbr8gGQIc2UkYwhUDCAHuB7RSApblRK8_Zwytk2prDT-EObSOjY9Y4DyH_OfbgUdw4cMw_j2D4SbWyOV_l_nFg9vXHxTug45g1fG7g3sx8-NPnxDsv4VLeeToEF1qrCxoq0p3jz9X/s200/img_0078_sm.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299382005098080002" border="0" /></a><br />People were throwing in bills left and right. One little girl emptied her piggybank.<br /><br />They collected almost <span style="font-weight: bold;">500</span> <span style="font-weight: bold;">Euros</span>. And about 10 pounds of treats, "to reward these sweet little boys". That was collected by the church and sent on to orphans in Romania (I'm not kidding about that!). The money when to African missions. The boys, despite the frozen noses and stingy-with-the-treats chaperone (me), all signed up for next year.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2802940853539270959.post-23587908581456177152009-01-01T14:36:00.003+01:002009-01-01T14:43:47.577+01:00Bringing the kids aroundVery funny faux pas today:<br /><br />I called the neighbors regarding an upcoming event with the kids (more on it later), in which I will be accompanying the kids around the neighborhood. So I called the neighbor and wanted to say 'We'll talk later about when I will bring the kids around the neighborhood'.<br /><br />Bring: bringen<br />around: um<br /><br />Stefan knows where this is going.<br /><br />So, the phrase 'Bring the children around the neighborhood' was translated by me as 'Die kinder um den Nachbarschaft umbringen'.<br /><br />The only problem? 'umbringen' means 'to kill (a person)'. <span style="font-style: italic;">So I inadvertantly threatened the lives of the neighbors kids on their answering machine</span> (i.e. to kill the kids in the vicinity of the neighborhood).<br /><br />Luckily Guido, their dad, knows his sons and the exasperating effect they can have on adults well, and thought the whole thing was pretty funny.<br /><br />*sigh*Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2802940853539270959.post-79901133319711349682008-12-31T22:51:00.002+01:002008-12-31T23:05:46.477+01:00Happy New YearGermans go around this time of year wishing each other 'Einen Guten Rutsch', which means 'A good slide'; most folks around here think it is a nice folksy way to wish each other a nice slide into the new year. But I've read it comes from Yiddish - from the Rosh in Roshhashana, or the Jewish new year.<br /><br />To prep for new years Germans spend inordinate amounts of money on fireworks. They may only be purchsed 3 days before New Year's, and then only shot off immediately after midnight. This means the skies over the town are full of backyard displays for at least an hour tonight. Also means that tomorrow everyone has to go into the yard and find the debris. The smell of sulfur can linger until morning, if the evening is still.<br /><br />Another German New Year's tradition is a skit called 'Dinner for One'. Oddly, this show, from 1963, was recorded in Germany, but in its original English. All evening, you can see it, or one of the many recreations in high German, Swiss German, or any dialect.<a style="left: 198px ! important; top: -4px ! important;" title="Click here to block this object with Adblock Plus" class="abp-objtab-015003916479690382 visible ontop" href="http://www.youtube.com/v/XtkDUlx4_-Y&hl=en&fs=1"></a><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/XtkDUlx4_-Y&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/XtkDUlx4_-Y&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object><br /><br />Tonight newly 5 year old Anke and her older brother will join us in the street to look at the crazy neighbors' fireworks display. Anke still believes the fireworks are especially for her birthday. Peter lets her believe this.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2802940853539270959.post-13592166937555492852008-12-20T22:27:00.000+01:002008-12-20T22:27:00.977+01:00Anke EnglekeAnke Engleke is my favorite figure on German television at the moment. When our little Anke was born, everyone in Germany said 'Oh yeah - Danke, Anke' - a catch phrase made popular by her which had gone through a 'yeah, that's the ticket' kind of phase. Therefore I wasn't really disposed to like her, even if she does do the German voice of Marge Simpson.<br /><br />Since last week, though, I'm a fan. Like in the U.S., German TV is rife with reality shows - Super Nanny, Wife Swap, etc, all have German equivalents. A few I've only seen on German TV - <span style="font-style: italic;">Raus von den Schulden</span> (Out of Debt) and <span style="font-style: italic;">Wohnen nach Wunsch</span> (Living as Wished). But like in all these shows, some expert descends on some helpless family and reforms them.<br /><br />Well, Ms. Engelke's show last week did a send up on these - all the experts paid visits, one after the other, to Josef and Maria von Nazareth - in their stable. First came the debt advisor, who didn't see them getting clear (and who wondered why the baby Jesus didn't look like his dad), then the Super Nanny, who told Josef he had anger control issues (and who wondered why the baby didn't look like his dad), then the kitschy redecorator, who renovated their stable and turned their donkey into a throw rug (and who wondered why the baby didn't look like his dad). At the end, Josef, crazed, slams the door on the next visitors - the 3 wise men bearing gifts.<br /><br />You couldn't do that on network TV in the US.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2802940853539270959.post-59177741192825458002008-12-09T21:34:00.000+01:002008-12-19T21:38:27.660+01:00Weird GermanTypical Friday night - 'studying' German while watching mediocre American made-for-TV movies translated into German (although this one, oddly, was made in Germany in English). I always notice odd things in German when I'm half-learning like this - a few of my current ponderables:<br /><br />German has a lot of similarities to English - prepositions, for example, that can only be used in certain ways - ponder the difference between 'throw out', 'throw in' and 'throw up'. The prepositions in German are similar enough to English to cause a lot of confusion - for example, in Germany, your house is 'in a street', but you walk 'on the street' - exactly switched from English.<br /><br />Sometimes I try to learn word roots and build from there. This doesn't always work:<br /><ul><li><span style="font-style: italic;">'Verwalt'</span> means administration, <span style="font-style: italic;">'Gewalt'</span> means violence, <span style="font-style: italic;">'Anwalt'</span> is a lawyer. What's a 'Walt', I must ask, and just how do those three words relate?</li><li><span style="font-style: italic;">'Gift'</span> in German means 'poison'.</li><li><span style="font-style: italic;">'Mist'</span>, instead of being a nice light fog, means 'manure'. </li></ul>Oh well, back to work.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2802940853539270959.post-49325550423523589832008-12-05T20:07:00.004+01:002008-12-05T20:30:35.272+01:00It's christmasing a lot...<span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><a style="" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.moers.de/C12571D10045B8D8/files/Weihnachtsmarktstaende_01.jpg/$file/Weihnachtsmarktstaende_01.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 113px;" src="http://www.moers.de/C12571D10045B8D8/files/Weihnachtsmarktstaende_01.jpg/$file/Weihnachtsmarktstaende_01.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Someone commented to me on the last trip home, "German Christmas is a smaller celebration than in the U.S., isn't it?). Actually, I like to point out that at least one poet verbed the word "Christmas" (Es weihnachtet sehr; hence the title of this piece), which I feel shows how seriously this time of year is taken in Germany!<br /><br />Maybe the celebration on Dec. 25 is a bit more relaxed than in the U.S. (at least comparing my family to the husband's). But Germans start the party in late November, really, with the opening of the Christmas Markets in the downtowns of almost every city. Some are quite famous - Nüremburg, for example, and I met a couple on the plane recently who were coming to German just to make a Christmas-market visiting cruise on the Rhine! At the Christmas markets, items ranging from traditional wooden toys to nativity sets to handcrafts are for sale, as well as numerous stands selling all kinds of food.<br /><br />Then, of course, there is the <a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://german.about.com/library/blrezept_gluehwein.htm">Glühwein</a> (mulled wine - click for recipe). This is ubiquitous in the markets, with stands selling the warm drink in ceramic mugs (deposit required) and drunk at the beer-garden type tables surrounding the stand. Really, there's nothing like this - the warm alcohol and spices hitting your tummy while you stand in the cold evening air...<br /><br />Follow it with some candied roasted almonds or roasted chestnuts (heretofore just known to me through Christmas songs) and you're set for the evening.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/f/f8/Russian_icon_Instaplanet_Saint_Nicholas.JPG/205px-Russian_icon_Instaplanet_Saint_Nicholas.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 205px; height: 255px;" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/f/f8/Russian_icon_Instaplanet_Saint_Nicholas.JPG/205px-Russian_icon_Instaplanet_Saint_Nicholas.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Now, nestled in among all the Christmas-market visits, is the Feast of St. Nicholas. The original saint's feast day, with its tradition of gift giving, was apparently mixed up with Christmas some time ago, and thus in the U.S. we have Santa Claus. But tonight St. Nick will be visiting us and filling the stockings with a few goodies and small toys.<br /><br />Finally comes Christmas. Not content at this point with a single day, Germans instead start the celebrating seriously on Christmas eve; this is when most folks attend church (although the tradition of midnight mass was lost through curfews during the occupation after the war; "Midnight" is now at about 10pm). Also, at least around here, presents are opened Christmas Eve (the Christmas Man or Christ Child, depending on your religion (Cath/Prot), apparently arrives while you're at church).<br /><br />The next day, the First Day of Christmas, is spent doing all same type of Christmas activities Americans would recognize - visiting, playing, feasting, singing "Oh Tannenbaum"... The feasting is mostly confined to sweets, though; meals tend to be relaxed affairs on this day. Then comes the Second Day of Christmas - a repeat of the first day! And the bonus is, since it's weighted pretty much as importantly as the first day, that you can spread your visits out over the two days, and no one feels miffed you weren't there on "the" day.<br /><br />Then you have a few days to recuperate before New Years. You need it.<br /></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2802940853539270959.post-30592221100154237562008-12-05T19:46:00.003+01:002008-12-05T20:07:08.136+01:00The Triple Crown<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHrQVaqLylSpebuzq8CmmxMZaY0s169KMoS7CnolOyAVUnMicgMYLqNUN2otXigsRZGQFpeVwz15k4DJur0gQdUMARx-jRRVQRF5-HrOsL9aNcDAMevZK0BghtJKLVyWNi1R1Mi5DKsR4u/s1600-h/Peter_Judo2"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 186px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHrQVaqLylSpebuzq8CmmxMZaY0s169KMoS7CnolOyAVUnMicgMYLqNUN2otXigsRZGQFpeVwz15k4DJur0gQdUMARx-jRRVQRF5-HrOsL9aNcDAMevZK0BghtJKLVyWNi1R1Mi5DKsR4u/s200/Peter_Judo2" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276384525645286066" /></a><br />Forgot to post - P. successfully achieved his Yellow-White belt at Judo the other day. For those not in the know, these days they have added intermediate belts for the junior judo circuit, so the wee ones needn't wait years between levels. Unfortunately, P. didn't place in the intra-club tournament that had, but he was awarded an honorary 3rd place medal as solace.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2802940853539270959.post-746952958701453552008-11-17T11:04:00.001+01:002008-11-17T11:06:47.663+01:00St. Martin's DayThese past weeks have been a flurry of activity to prepare for the annual St. Martin's celebrations. These are a big deal for the little kids, who spend hours preparing paper lanterns (with varying degrees of help from the mothers). The children will meet after dark (i.e. 4:45pm at this time of year) for a procession through the village. In the olden days these lanterns would be lit by candles; but as every adult can remember the heartbreak of a friend's lantern engulfed in flames, everyone uses specially<a style="" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/1/16/El_Greco_036.jpg/319px-El_Greco_036.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 160px; height: 300px;" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/1/16/El_Greco_036.jpg/319px-El_Greco_036.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a> purchased battery powered lantern rod & light combinations.<br /><br />After the parade, in which the children sing the traditional St. Martin's songs about his generous exploits to the accompaniment of a small marching band, there is a bonfire. St. Martin, who's been shadowing the parade the whole time on this horse, comes to the front and re-enacts the famous St. Martin-and-the-Beggar story (see picture). Then he hands out to all the children a kind of slightly sweet pastry in the shape of a man carrying a clay pipe, called a Weckmann. I've read this is supposed to represent Martin, who was a bishop, and the clay pipe is an inverted Bishop's crook.<br /><br />After this activity (which is usually accompanied by Glühwein, or mulled wine, for the grown ups), the kids go door to door with their lanterns, singing for the homeowners and collecting candy. This has been going on for generations though, so unlike a lot of things here the Germans can't blame an American cultural trait (here: Halloween). And I must say: the kids' haul was much bigger, for less "work", than in the U.S.!<br /><br />St. Martin is apparently a popular saint throughout Europe. It's always pointed out that the festival is a good chance to teach the kids the power of sharing, but splitting of a cloak in half to share with someone who has NOTHING seems a rather shaky platform on which to build an entire festival! I'm also not sure what the significance of the lanterns is; probably descended from some pagan ritual.<br /><br />In my more cynical moments I wonder: If Valentine's Day is a "Hallmark Holiday", and Christmas is encouraged by the toy and luxury good industry, then is St. Martin's Day pushed by the paper products industry? Somebody has to buy all that construction and transparent paper!<br /><br />But it's still really cool.<br /><br />Interesting note: at 11:11 a.m., on Nov. 11 (11/11), Karneval season officially opens. New royalty is named, and slowly, very slowly, Karneval activities begin, like <span style="font-style: italic;">Sitzungen</span> (literally: A Seating), which is sort of a series of corny stand-up comedy acts in a beer-hall type setting.<br /><br />Picturs of the lanterns to follow.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2802940853539270959.post-28113556397272661802008-11-12T19:53:00.002+01:002008-11-12T19:59:22.000+01:00Peter can drive a pen.Well, the boy passed trial number 2 this week, successfully obtaining his Fountain Pen Driver's License. His teacher felt his chicken scratching was real handwriting. How am I supposed to know - I can't read this (*&$%@($ "simplified" handwriting the kids have to learn. In my defense, other parents I talk to (including my German teacher) can barely decipher it either.<br /><br />P. insists on having the License with him in class, to prove to the other children that he is worthy. Although, he did point out the down side - now he MUST use the fountain pen, whereas before he might choose his implement.<br /><br />Now onto trial number 3: Judo.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2802940853539270959.post-30429791324752757062008-11-11T15:08:00.004+01:002008-11-11T15:22:21.923+01:00Ein Hattrick.Big week for Peter.<br /><br />Monday we met his swimming teacher for a swimming test. He passed and is now the proud owner of a <span style="font-style: italic;">'Seepferdchen'</span> - or little sea horse - certification. Thursday at swim class he will get his patch, which I, or someone who ac<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5jyYRM1nio3PZUhiIcW4Int-cDqx6GEU99BJapeFhdXWzCYzzGpNNO8LmNrcLY_ySwnVXjS-QWiKQGe99TBxaO9s0_07Vz0ARTELbWTu_ji5qHo2dqge-sZbwtJB8UhqGFrl1Le1tyl7w/s1600-h/Seepferd.png"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 127px; height: 127px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5jyYRM1nio3PZUhiIcW4Int-cDqx6GEU99BJapeFhdXWzCYzzGpNNO8LmNrcLY_ySwnVXjS-QWiKQGe99TBxaO9s0_07Vz0ARTELbWTu_ji5qHo2dqge-sZbwtJB8UhqGFrl1Le1tyl7w/s320/Seepferd.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267403962015797746" border="0" /></a>tually knows the sharp end of a needle from the dull, will sew onto his swim trunks. To achieve this he had to jump into the water, swim the pool end to end, and back (25 meters each way), and dive down to retrieve a ring.<br /><br />I believe the certification is called little sea horse because of the way Peter swam - only a little offset from vertical, with his feet doing little else than providing a little upward force. Reminded me, in fact, of a sea horse's style. His arms did all the work. But he never gave up, and even did an extra set of laps just to show off (ok, maybe because his teacher told him to).<br /><br />The next test of the week was to get his <span style="font-style: italic;">'Füllerführerschein'</span> - or fountain pen driver's license - in school. The German schools still encourage the use of fountain pens because it's believed that it encourages the children to be more careful in writing. Indeed, his handwriting with the fountain pen is better than with a pencil, but he always has blue splotches on his hands as a result. He has a special 'beginner' fountain pen, suitably colorful. After weeks of agonizing, Peter finally finished up the last few sentences of the text he was supposed to copy 'error free'. This means only that he had to catch and correct all his errors before the teacher did.<br /><br />Friday: We'll see if he manages to go from his White belt in Judo to his White-Gold belt. Nowadays they have intermediate steps for the little ones so they don't have to wait years between promotions. Wouldn't it be nice if real life was like that?<br /><br />Btw: The title's not a typo; it's <span style="font-style: italic;">Denglish</span> for Hat Trick.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2802940853539270959.post-34128845347943109402008-10-07T19:07:00.002+02:002008-10-07T19:22:43.976+02:00Family MatterThis week the husband installed the new card for the satellite receiver, to enable us to continue receiving the subscription channels with the English-language programming. Of course, in an effort to hook us on more expensive services, the company gave us 2 weeks of all their programming, free.<br /><br />S. was exploring the new offerings and the packages available - just as American cable companies bundle certain channels together. One caught his attention - the 'family package'.<br /><br />Now, in the U.S., a family package usually refers to programming which is suitable and attractive to the whole family - a mix of movies, kid's programming, and sports, usually. In Germany, however, or at least for this particular company, 'family' apparently means that there are channels for everyone in the family, even that creepy uncle around whom no one is really comfortable. For part of this package is the 'Beate-Uhse' channel, inspired by a famous chain of sex-toy shops.<br /><br />Yes, the family package includes a porn channel.<br /><br />Of course, the broadcasts don't begin until after the small kids are in bed, and therr is apparently a 4-digit security code you can invoke, so it's obviously meant just for the adults. Maybe it's just considered a part of a normal adult lifestyle here.<br /><br />Or maybe it's all part of an effort to increase the birth rate in this country - as this 'Germany Needs More Babies' commercial seems to suggest.<br /><br /><a style="left: 0px ! important; top: 15px ! important;" title="Click here to block this object with Adblock Plus" class="abp-objtab-024190671386999596 visible ontop" href="http://www.youtube.com/v/1__ff5f6_VU&hl=en&fs=1"></a><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/1__ff5f6_VU&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/1__ff5f6_VU&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object><br /><br /><br />Ok, there will be a comment accusing me of watching the porn channel. I wasn't impressed. It involved a chimney sweep and his encounters with the ladies on his route. Lots of bad jokes about how he was a 'bringer of good luck', nudge-nudge, wink-wink, and a lot of shots of him, literally, cleaning chimneys. Maybe the hard core stuff is on after 10 pm.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2802940853539270959.post-87111615569503754032008-10-01T19:47:00.002+02:002008-10-01T20:05:15.171+02:00Environment ZonesThe new trend among local municipalities is to institute "Environment Zones". <br /><br />You have to understand that here in Moers we live just about adjacent to the Rhine and Ruhr rivers. Along the Rhine are large cities like Düsseldorf and Kologne; alone the Ruhr is the famous (in Europe) Ruhr Region, Germany's own Rust Belt. As a result, our state, North-Rhein Westphalia, has not only the largest and most dense population in Germany, but also some of the worst traffic in Europe.<br /><br />Diesel cars are far more popular here in Germany than in the U.S. Diesels, however, put out a lot more particulates, than gasoline powered autos. (I have read that particulate output is actually more closely controlled in the U.S. than in Germany; the required filter to take care of the fine particulates is one reason diesel cars are more expensive in America).<br /><br />So now cities are delineating areas into which only the cleanest cars can go. Luckily both our cars earned a green 4; my in-laws, with a diesel red 2, can no longer drive into the downtowns of several cities in the area. To do so (and to be caught) would mean a fine as well as points on the license.<br /><br />I find this trend interesting because it's one of the few areas I've noticed where local levels of government are moving to regulate something like this. Usually, it seems to me, most of these directives come from the federal level.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0