le petite pirate

Bonjour! Right now I back in Germany and on the train to Dresden, but I am writing to talk about my 4 day excursion (still on the Rhine River) to Strasbourg, France.

In sum, it was… well… French. J

It was a breath of fresh air to be someplace where I could speak the language. I’m not entirely fluent, but for the most part was successful and managed quite well.  Thank you Greenhills Highschool.

Strasbourg, France is in the Alsace region of France. It is a very interesting history because it has gone back and forth between German and French hands perhaps a hundred times over hundreds of years.  It is right on the Rhine River and also on the border of Germany.  It has its own language, called “Asacien” (go figure) but most people just speak French.

I stayed in a cute youth hostel, “L’auberge Jeunesse” just outside of town.  Hostels have their attraction because they are inexpensive and you typically get to meet a lot of neet people and share rooms with people you might not otherwise have the opportunity to make a connection.

 For example, I shared a room with a sweet Hungarian girl who worked for the European Parliament (must be hard times for the EU if they could only afford to put her up in a youth hostel)  an Australian girl, who was backpacking for a total of 8 months,  and four tidy quiet, beret-wearing-baguette-eating-cigarette-smoking French cockroaches.  No, I am not calling the French “cockroaches.”

 I am describing the character and nationality of the cockroaches who shared my dorm room.  Personally, I think I should have gotten a discount since I paid to share a room only two other inhabitants,, but all together  avec mes petites cockroaches, we made 7.

 My second night there when 192 teenagers checked into the hostel, I knew I was in for a great time. J

And I digress…

Strasbourg is an adorable town with (big surprise here) a beautiful Cathedral that lies in the center and is one of the main attractions. Only one spire on this church, however.  After the Cathedral in Cologne, I decided I was a 2-spire kind of girl, so didn’t waste my time going in OR climbing the stairs.  J I did however enjoy coffee and pizza, people watching, bird-poo avoiding, and speaking French to waiters…all while looking at the cathedral.

I also took a boat ride on the canals (the town is lined with canals) on a beautiful sunny day. I was pretty sure the boat ride was meant for all tourists, but it was actually a boatful of Germans and me.

By this point, I speak enough German to ask for things like food coffee and beer, to recognize that someone is in fact speaking German, to talk with my hands (wait—that’s Italian), to  LAUGH (even though most German strangers I pass do not laugh, nor do they think it is funny when I do so--- ) and  I know how to say, “No old man, these are MY headphones in ENGLISH. YOUR headphones go in HERE and are in GERMAN.” 

My favorite part of the boat ride was when we passed the torture towers.  (that sounds strange, but wait).

 This was where, you guessed it you smarty-pants you, they tortured people back in the old days.  What I found particularly funny in the recording (perhaps something is lost in translation or the French are maybe just blunt?) is that when the previous Torturer was caught doing something illegal (I don’t remember the crime), his punishment would be first to have his tongue cut out and then decapitation.  But, in a very cheerful voice, the tour guide said, “thanks to many years of good service, the judge took pity and fortunately allowed him decapitation without cutting out his tongue.”

Should I have clapped here? I was the only one who laughed (out loud).

RESEARCH...   

I mostly wandered about the town but since I actually was here on research, I met up with a friend who lives here, Mathieu, who I actually met in Southern France this past summer doing river-research. This is a particularly interesting area because effective flood defence/management depends on what happens on BOTH sides of the river.  One side is Germany, the other is France, both of whom have different policies, regulations, and interests. 

In short, went to see some “cool stuff” on the Rhine.  Well cool stuff for me, like dikes, poulders, dams, and BANK EROSION (oooh….ahhhhh….)

Laugh if you like, but I know my water friends are appreciating this right now!

  (on the left side, Das ist Germany, Right side c'est la France)

Though unrelated, check out this BUNKER!!! (its on the right , the cement block)

From the WAR!!!!  

But it is right alongside the Rhine. I gotta think that during heavy rains the average bunker-hiding Frenchie is hedging his  (or her)bets on which is safer… dodging bullets from the Germans across the river, or… the rising Rhine River itself.  Check out the awesome sign.   See, EVEN IN GOOD WEATHER floods can happen people!

I also had the unexpected opportunity (these are the best kind) to go out and visit a 1626 Hops Farm because Mathieu’s friend Stephanie grew up on it.  They still have the original house and all the buildings intact which is beautiful and it has been in their family for generations (Since it was built I believe).  Anyway, we got to see the hops farm and get a tour in French (which I mostly understood) how they grew the hops, processed them, and then distributed them.  Her family distributes hops to Heinekin, Budwieser, and others.

 (These are what the hops vines grow up to).

 Mostly exports but they do sell hops to one local brew as well called Meteor.  To close the tour, we of course enjoyed a meteor in the back yard. 

Check this out—I didn’t take a picture of it, but it is behind the door (because I didn’t want to be offensive), but this cross has the head cut off because during the French revolution, the armies came to destroy all Christian paraphernalia!  They never gave jesus a new head. I find that funny. J

Afterwards, we went into Mathieu's house.  He has a pet squirrel. This is amazing. I apologize that the video is sideways I can't figure out how to change it, but check out the most hyperactive squirrel you have ever seen in your life.

Anyway, post farm tour, we all went out into town to enjoy some traditional Alsacien (regional) cuisine.

One traditional dish I enjoyed (other than the pretzels, coffee, and delicious bread!) is called Tarte Flambée . 

“Tarte Flambée”  (pronounced, tart flambay) is French for, “flaming heart-attack-on-a-plank.”   It is like a thin crust pizza  (only a little softer but not like a tortilla shell) minus the sauce, and then add on onions and lots of different kind of creamy cheeses. If you eat meat, then you also usually get it with a type of ham.  It was delicious. They serve it to you on a plank and you pay once but they keep coming and coming with more flaming tartes.  I could only eat about 1.5 of them but I would have loved to have more. 

Another dish which we all cooked is called: “ knopfle. “ It is pronounced like  ka-no-p-fluh , only frenchier.  This is kind of like noodles? You make the batter and then drop scoops of it into boiling water and as the globs rise to the surface you take them out of the pot.  Then you sautée them with garlic and cream and cheese.  Delicious.  And ham of course if you like that sort of thing.

I had a fantastic time with Mathieu and his friends.  Truly, everyone I have encountered on this trip has been so generous and that has made my experience even better.  After just 4 brief days there, I hopped a train back to Germany where I spent the next 4 days in Munich but I will save that for another post. 

Other traditional foods are really just torture methods... I mean check this out. On EVERY CORNER...How does someone not gain like 500lbs (I'm sorry, I mean 200 kilos), while living here?

Oh, and I took a picture of a little french pirate dressed up for--I don't know what. But I had no choice. It's not often you see this sort of thing.I did it on the sly so that I didn't look like a stalker, but now I kind of feel like hiding myself while taking pictures might officially give me stalker-status. crap.

Oh, plus, while waiting for the tram, I met these guys.

After they tried to “scare” me and failed miserably, we chatted and they let me take their picture. I would like to add however, in the spirit of things, and in the spirit of OUR season, that this is somewhat out of place. Because

1)   it was October 20, not 31… and also,

2)   FRANCE DOES NOT CELEBRATE HALLOWEEN! WHERE WERE THESE PEOPLE GOING???!

That is all for the short stay in Strasbourg.

Closing thoughts?

-I am quite well…

-I am eating quite well (maybe too well)

-I am meeting a lot of really nice people

-I love trains

-I am safe

-No, I did not tell the French any of my French Military jokes 

-European soccer fans take the prize for enthusiasm over American sports fans any day  (I say this as a die-hard Michigan football fan)

-Some guy who looks like Larry Bird just sat down across from me

I happened upon it...the most famous Berliner of them all

So did you know that in all parts of Germany, what we call doughnuts are called Berliners? Well except for Berlin. I don't know what they're called in Berlin. Go figure Germany!

This post is a tad behind, since I am currently in Strasbourg and have even been to Darmstadt and Frankfurt since Berlin but I figure I ought to share a couple of things from that part anyhow...

Read on for a truly classic: "Jess Moment"


The Cold...
In Berlin I officially had to succumb to wearing close-toed shoes for the first time (except my wintery trips home to the midwest for the holidays) since working at Northwest Youth Corps.  After being forced in 8"Leather Work Boots in the rain for 8 years, I embarked on what I call my FLF (Foot liberation front) whereby upon every day in California, I wore my open-toed shoes. Yes, even in the rain, even in 10 degrees Celcius (I'm in Europe, therefore I think in european, okay? I speak differently, think in meters, don't really tip on food service, I drink tons of coffee, eat pastries, say things like, "ciao!" "tchüss," eat mayonnaise with french fries, and smoke cigarettes...ha ha. only kidding on the cigarettes!)

And I digress...But the point of that story is to tell you just how cold it is. Needless to say, among my purchases (many coffees, falafels, and post cards) were a warm hat and another pair of mittens.

Berlin is a fascinating city and it is so cool to be walking through a major part of world history--most of which has been recently built after it was leveled in WWII.

(Brandenburger Tur--this was the former city gate... it was one of the few structures that survived WWII...it became closed from E-W Germans in 1961 as part of the death strip and the Berlin Wall)


I checked in on a Saturday night and wandered around as long as I could take it in the cold wind and rain.  I went for a jog (in the cold) in the Tiergarten which is a huge park right in Mitte, the central part of the city, where I was staying.

Mauer Park... the "surprise"
The next day, however, I decided to take a walk to check out a flee market (Flohmarkt) I had read was cool. I came upon Mauer Park which was bustling with people and hipsters (they get their own category) from all walks of life and all countries.  There were young, old, big, small, girls boys, shopping, drinking in the beergarden, playing music, graffiti artists, spinning records, and sporting the latest fashion Europe has to offer (see below).

(fyi, though they look small these girls are actually at least 20)
There was also an awesome (you can decide exactly how I am using this word) American playing old jazz and blues covers keyboard (and some others without category) who seemed to have a great following in the park.  No one knew what he was saying in between but he was (successfully) trying to rally people up to his slightly-off-tune-quasi-energetic-airport-lounge-singer kinda way.  It was great.  Check video below. You may recognize this song as original by Huey Piano Smith: Don't ya just know it.



So, I sat down and listened for a while with my Pommes with mayonnaise (mmmm....), and tried to order a beer in German which they told me was only a summer beer, so snided me for thinking I could order it NOW... Well--why was it even on the menu then? jerks.

The music was entertaining to say the least and then I thought I'd go for a walk in the park after perusing all that was for sale at the flea market... I am pretty sure you could find anything:
socks, clothes, old records, suitcases, vacuum cleaners, chandeliers, books, brass fittings, ties, old suits, AND... I am pretty sure I saw someone walking away with THE lamp from "A Christmas Story."  Yes, you know the one I'm talking about...

But in any event... If you know me at all, you know I can only shop for so long.  So I decided I would go explore and check out some grafiti artists at work that I had passed on my way in.

If I give you the hint that this is about to be a Homer Simpson moment, (doh!) then you can tell where this story is going.

So I walk back toward the entrance and start checking out some remarkable grafitti.  

I walk down and see a little more.

Then I began to notice how far this wall extended...  (here it comes...)

Wait a minute...
can it be?
What is this really long wall, separated by a lot of space, and behind it aNOTHER really long wall?
I'm in BERLIN... (scratch the forehead).

DOH!
This is the Berlin Wall my friends.

Incidentally, "MAUER" is German for "Wall"...

But I'd like to think that though I didn't make the connection early on, It was rather fun to come upon it by chance, rather than look at my tourist map to go find the wall.

So the remainder of the evening until dark, I followed the wall  thru Berlin (there was a path marked on my map that I hadn't realized was the wall) of which 165km of the original "iron curtain" still exist.

I ended up at the future memorial site as well as the documentation center which was fascinating and sad to read.

At this base of this building is the wall (the red panels are the memorial with information in all languages). See how close.  This building may have been reconstructed. They had to demolish the buildings right along side the wall because people in "east" germany would jump out of their buildings to get across the wall into west germany. They demolished churches, etc.  And then there was another wall maybe 10 meters past that runs parallel.  The space in between is known as the death strip. Anyone seen in it would be shot immediately. (see below)

Anyway, I hope you have enjoyed your journey... and now to end on a slightly more positive note, throughout our remaining days in Berlin, my traveling companion and I stumbled upon a few more sections of the Berlin Wall, the previous divider of Eastern and Western Germany (and some may say the world)...and wanted to leave you with this.

Note the expressions on the passersby.  But we did manage to get a LOT of Germans to smile in the process...(a difficult task I notice with strangers)

Bear misses his gezellig

Ascending. 6 October, 2009

Another rainy day in Koln and as a warning: this post is only likely interesting to people like my mom any teachers out there, and my italian-catholic family who may oooh-and-ahh over the pretty churches.
  
Around 10am I met my rent-a-friend at the university (okay she was really one of Josef’s graduate students) and the two of us headed into town for coffee and to visit the Köln Dom or Cathedral which is a UNESCO World Cultural Heritage site.  It is a Gothic Cathedral. I would actually care what that meant if I could remember anything from Grade 5 Art History and Architecture.

   The cathedral is visible as you come in on the train, plane, and yes, automobile. So there are strict building restrictions on anything that would alter the skyline.

A couple interesting things about this cathedral: It took around 600 years to finish, stopped for 300 years in the middle, and then after being finishing in the late 1800s, was bombed shortly thereafter during WWII. You can see that parts of the Cathedral are black and that is the effect of acid rain on the sandstone.

The Cathedral is still (and always) undergoing restoration and it has been repaired enough so that you can not only go inside the church, but one fantastic part of this you can ascend into one of the two spires.   Once I learned this was possible, I decided we would climb all 532 stairs.

I think Kristina was both  1) surprised and 2)  not pleased that I wanted to do this.  So I bought her a coffee and paid her 1 euro entry fee (something like a bribe) after dragging her all the way up there as the least I could do.  It was a pretty remarkable view of the Rhine and the city.  And yes there ARE pictures of me smiling from the top of it. Just not on this post. :)

After descending the stair, we crossed the Rhine to head to a different part of the city. Hark the view from the middle of this bridge... look at the shrine down on the waterfront:
the king lives!

(click on the photo to get a larger view)

Bearlin, Germany

In his own words, it happened just like this...

on a typical day, just walking through the park

when I came upon this punk

you talkin to me? you talking to me?

are YOU TALKING TO ME?!!!

the attack.

the getaway

Riots, Diplomacy, and Waffles...oh my!

The following post is abridged in order to spare my family the concern of a slightly scandalous—while at the same time professional and diplomatic—visit to Brussels, Belgium. For my diehard readers, the complete and unabridged version will post  on my alternative underground blog at “whatjessisreallydoing.blogspot.com”.   Careful-- you need to knock three times and answer the encrypted password to enter

Now if you clicked on that link, please go to the comment box at the bottom of this blog and type in, “I”… you must publicly admit that you took me seriously.

You may have noticed that Brussels was not on the original itinerary, but I made a quick 60-hour stop to that waffle-eating city to stop into the European Commission (they do research, make recommendations, and write regulations for the European Union Parliament ) to discuss the new European Flood Directive with the parties in charge. 

   here’s the inside … it’s a really neat building.

 I realize that there are no pictures of me at the EC, but I swear I was legitimately there.  And spoke with real people.

I thought perhaps the experience would have been to fancy for me, but alas. Not at all.  I did wear close-toed shoes though for anyone who was wondering (and this MUST mean it is a dressy occasion).

And good coffee and croissants too!  I may hold off on posting my findings from these meetings until a later date but rest assured, they were very informative.

 I had the opportunity to connect with two commissioners, one I had met last year in a class on European Water Policy, and the other is in charge of Europe’s new Flood Policy.  Bear stayed at home during my meetings because I could not find him a suit.  He is still a bit angry.

now on to other things...

One key event shall mark Brussels in my memory forever.

But first, the setting…
The Grand Place, or Grote Maarkt (the two official languages in Belgium are Dutch and French).  This plaza is site of the former Breadmakers guild, currently a museum, and a number of other likely important things.  I did not have a travel book for this place and I have forgotten what everything is.  When I arrived on Tuesday night, someone took me to the Grote Maarkt (I’ll go with Dutch because I like it better than French) and as it was all lit up. 

I had to stop to catch my breath.  It was beautiful.

It's too big to actually capture all in one photo... but you are surrounded by these kind of buildings.  Also a UNESCO World Heritage Site (my trip seems to be filled with them.. who knew Flooding was so Heritage-like?)

I am slightly glad I did not have my camera at this first glance because I may not have been able to take it all in that moment.  I returned to this place every day for a sandwich, a beer (so many good Belgian beers here!), to walk around, to people watch, and to riot.

Thursday afternoon post EU-meeting, I took to wandering Brussels solo and ended up at a café in the Grote Maarkt to sit down, write some postcards, and have a drink. (*note these post cards met their fate in a brussels taxi along with all my notes, so if by the end of this trip you do not receive a post card from me, you can blame the Taxi-driver's lack of good nature).

There were a number of Dutch football (European, therefore I mean soccer) fans in the plaza because the European League had a game in Brussels against Anderlecht in Brussels that evening and Ajax Amsterdam was playing.  When I sat down, the waiter approached me and laughed, saying I was quite “brave”.  I chuckled in return, over-confidently, because little did he know, I grew up tailgating at the Big House (that’s Michigan Football for all of you non-sports lovers) and with three brothers.  But I did look around and notice I was one of only 3 women in the entire place. 

I began to notice why the server had approached me.

I sat uninterrupted for a good while until a man (drunk) across the way from me began to yell things to me.  It was in Dutch however, so I said I didn’t speak it.  Given the use of his hand gestures, I’m assuming he wasn’t serenading me with Shakespeare.  After I asked him for “English please,” the words he chose were quite… exquisite—so much so that I shall not repeat them here. J At this moment, I regretted not having asked my Dutch friends how to use Dutch bad words such that I might have defended myself at this point.  But, being the creative girl that I am, I resorted at long last to use of the good ole’ American middle finger and carried on for a while longer with no interruptions.  The British men next to me expressed they were impressed.

… A very friendly and hilarious American couple sat down next to me and we struck up a conversation as they were from the Midwest too and also have it in their personality to become best friends with someone they just met...they took this picture of me

Perhaps 15-20 minutes later, the number of football fans around the square multiplied (hundreds now) as did their blood alcohol level and the number of police in the square.  This made me curious.  Hundreds of soccer fans then proceeded to sing the songs of Amsterdam’s football team so it echoed throughout the plaza. It actually sounded really cool! Listen in here.

 Things carried on in this fashion for quite sometime and then the fans began to move parts of the bar (like trays and glasses) INTO the plaza to play soccer with them.  The trays were entertaining (see clip) however, much to their surprise, glasses don’t bounce the way soccer balls do!

 So began the scene. I sat completely amused.  I think it DEFINITELY beats out the car fires students set at Flordia-Florida State football games or in Columbus where Buckeyes fans (boooooo!) get out of hand.

Not long after, the riot police showed up with helmets, shields, clubs, you name it. Supposedly tear-gas but we didn’t actually see it.

We moved just inside the café to observe (but not until I got video footage of course) until it all settled down. It didn’t take long as there were really only a couple of obnoxious fans, but the police came mostly to make a presence and a point. 

Then the police were lined up on each side of the square looking very official and we had decided to start moving out.  However, not before my Polly and David (the couple from Milwaukee) encouraged me to take my picture with the police.  Or rather, I said I really wished I could take my picture with them, and they assured me my dreams could come true.  I love meeting people willing to indulge me in my fantasies.

Here is me on one side,  (yes, I’m laughing)

But… we were convinced we could get closer.

So, as briefly as my trip to Brussels began, so shall it end.  I’ll leave you with this image which will forever represent Brussels to me, far more than could any waffle, beer, or piece of chocolate.  And for the record, could you have been there with us, arranging the shot was equally as entertaining as the photo itself.

Reunification and the Middle Rhine

On Friday I arrived by train to Cologne (Köln), Germany where I will be for this next week.  The kind/suave ticket agent in Brussels sold me my ticket at a discounted rate and even was so sweet/sleezy as to ask me to marry him. After reflecting on our relationship thus far (15 seconds long), I decided on a “maybe” for the answer… and I asked him how his wife might feel about such things in reference to the ring he wore. 

He then mumbled something I did not understand and proceeded to let me know when he would be working again, “just incase” I wanted to come back to the train station.   No thanks Sir Brussels, I’m out of here. 

I welcomed the high speed train trip as the first time (it felt) that I was just able to sit, observe, and do nothing else.  Josef met me at the train station in Cologne and I am staying with him for the week.  Josef is a Geography professor here at the University and he is a good friend of my advisor at Cal (which is how I met him).  He is incredibly nice and giving, a wealth of historical and current information (it is handy to spend time in Germany with a geographer), my own personal tour guide, and based on his laughing, he apparently thinks I’m funny.  So alas, we shall get along quite well this week.

October 3^rd was the German National Holiday celebrating the reunification of the East and West.  Most things close this day, so Josef and I decided to take a drive down the part of the Rhine River called MittelRhein (or Middle Rhine). This particular section is notable for its beauty and it too is one of the UNESCO World Heritage sites.  Pictures below.

We first stopped at Deutsches Eck (German Corner) at the confluence of the Mosel and Rhein Rivers (Mosel on the left and Rhein on the right) in Koblenz.  

There is a HUGE statue here (Bear posed for you below) recognizing Kaiser Wilhelm I and respresenting German unity.  I mostly nod and smile during these parts of our discussions where I hear about the various Germanic tribes, oh all of the wars, the French, etc etc, to disguise that I feel like a schmuck for opting out of “Modern European History” as a 10^th grader.  Hopefully he will not catch on…but I have thus blown my cover with you all.

Then we proceeded further down the river where it narrows and there are only small towns, cliffs, vineyards, and castles.

We went into one of the medi-eval towns named Oberwasel for a walk on the original city walls and stroll through the town.  That is the medieval wall on which I'm standing, and the Rhine (Rhein) on my right).

There is a German tradition here that happens every day around 2 or 3pm called Kaffedrinken (coffee drinking)… it is where Germans are “required” to stop what they are doing and have coffee and cake.  Being as I didn’t want to blow my cover and reveal that I am a non-German (I swear I’m convincing), I agreed (sigh) to have a piece of chocolate sachre torte and a coffee.

And so begins the rough life I will lead in this country.  On to the research.