Fröhe Weihnachten

Neupfarrplatz Christkindlmarkt

For the third time in six years I am spending Christmas in a foreign land. Regensburg, with its old buildings lining cobblestone streets, looks especially festive when decorated for Christmas. Almost every square in the town has a Christmas market or Christkindlmarkt, which literally means "Christ Child Market" because in the German tradition it's the baby Jesus who brings the presents. This of course sounds ridiculous to Americans who know that gifts are brought by a magical obese man propelled by flying reindeer, who breaks into your house through the chimney and brings presents from his sweat shop at the north pole staffed by elves held in perpetual slavery. December in Germany is indeed cold (we've already had some snow but no White Christmas this year) but the weather is still mild enough that a heavy coat and some Glühwein make spending time outside no problem. The worst thing about the Christmas markets is that they are often packed like a high-density feed lot. The crowd moves through the rows of festive huts shoulder to shoulder, you basically just step into a human tide and make your way through the market until you break off to look at some items for sale or buy something to eat or drink. It is for this reason that try to go to the markets mid week when the crowd isn't so bad.

Schloss von Thurn & Taxis

Glühwein of course is the most popular thing to drink, often with a shot of rum or amaretto in it. Most is made from red wine, but there are varieties with white, also popular is a variety made from raspberry wine. The big daddy of them all is Feuerzangenbowle which literally translates to "fire-screen-bowl" and consists of a sugar log soaked in high-proof rum that is lit afire, dripping into the bowl of wine, spices, and orange slices. It is pretty delicious, but will also give you the worst hangover of your life if you have too many at a Christmas party. Some Christmas markets will have a copper bowl the size of a small hot tub brewing the stuff up, but people also commonly make it at home for Christmas parties because it makes a good spectacle.

The most typical food of course is sausage, and Regensburg has a really tasty local treat. It consists of a fat red sausage that is sliced in half and grilled, then served in a bread roll with a pickle, sweet coarse ground mustard, and horseradish. It is pretty amazing and definitely superior to the average bratwurst sold in the markets, which is the same thing you could get any other time of year without the markup! There are of course a lot of sweets. Hot spiced nuts are popular, especially almonds, as is Kaiserschmarrn, the favorite treat of Austrian Emperor Franz Joseph I, hence its name. It is basically a fluffy, eggy pancake chopped up and served with powdered sugar and some type of fruit topping, usually applesauce or berries, sometimes topped with amaretto just to really take the gluttony to the next level. A similar resembles a sweet dumpling that is usually served with a vanilla sauce and also sometimes with amaretto called Dampfnudel. 

By far the best Christmas market in Regensburg is the the Schloss Thurn & Taxis, the cities palace and seat of the Thurn & Taxis family, one of the richest in Germany. There is a fee to get in but the palace is beautifully lit up and it isn't so crowded because it is spread out across the expansive grounds of the palace. The quality of the food, drinks, and crafts inside is also superior.  I went there last week with a group of Italian girls going to school in Venice, whose university has a partner program with Regensburg. I recognized one of them from my building and introduced myself when we were waiting for the bus, and it turns out that they all live in the same complex as me.

While there I discovered a food stand with big hunks of meat slowly cooking on a spit, just my style. I got two rolls from there, one with crackling pork in it and the other having ham with a creamy raspberry spread, which I washed down with some apple Glühwein. There are big fires spread throughout the palatial grounds for people to gather around and warm up, and many of the paths are lined with big candles. One of the coolest parts is in the old gatehouse, pretty much the only medieval part that remains on the grounds. The inside is lit with torches and candles, and it houses a Glühwein stand of course. It was well below freezing that night and the walk back to the bus was pretty frigid, but it was well worth it to visit such a festive place.



As for me I am staying in Regensburg over the break. Having a dinner with a couple other people who are sticking around for Christmas, and looking forward to New Years Eve when most people will be back in town to celebrate. I want to wish everyone a Fröhe Weihnachten and hope you all had a great 2013, I'll write again next year.

Zurich and Walhalla

It is getting cold here, but yesterday things heated up around 2 in the afternoon. I was enjoying a leisurely Sunday after 3 consistently busy weeks, bundled up in my room and catching up on a few TV shows from back home before heading into town to visit the Christmas market on the grounds of the Thurn & Taxis palace, when I heard sirens. I looked outside to see first an ambulance, then another, then a police car, and finally some fire engines. Then it came to my attention that there were people out in the street pointing at my building and I heard the sounds of many boots clambering up the stairs outside my room. This seemed like as good a time as any to collect my important documents, some shoes, and a warm coat. The hallway smelled of smoke, and I asked an off-duty police officer standing in the entry way who did not look terribly happy to be there on his day off if we needed to evacuate. The answer was no, thankfully. The fire had been put out before the emergency crews had even gotten there. Someone started a fire in one of the kitchens in the upper floors, which engulfed the hood over the stove.

The paper this morning said that there was an unattended pot on the stove, but that there could have been a defect in the hood. Nonetheless, four people had to go to the hospital with smoke inhalation, but all returned home that night. The building itself was not lit afire, but there was about 20,000 Euro worth of damage done to the kitchen. So that was my Sunday, how was yours?

I will write again next week about Christmas here in picturesque Regensburg, but for now I will give you an overdue update of what I've been up to the last month.

School has been going well but has been busy, I forgot how much damn time all the reading takes, and getting back into the habit was a little rough at first. I'm now well-settled into my new routine of lectures and seminars, and have begun research into a possible topic for my Masters Thesis. I've been doing my best to get out there and meet people, attending a lot of events organized through the international students' club. Two of those events were a weekend trip to Zurich, and a day trip to "Walhalla." 

For those of you who are a little rusty on your Norse mythology, Valhalla spelled with a "W" in German, is the hall of Odin, the patriarch of the Gods. It is a place reserved for great heroes and those who have died in battle, like Elysium in the Grecco-Roman mythology. There the heroes feast and drink, and pairs from among them are chosen to fight to the death for Odin's pleasure. The next day they rise again and ride once more to Valhalla. They do this day in and day out waiting for Ragnarok, the final apocalyptic battle in which the gods will be overthrown, and the Earth will be destroyed and remade. All of humanity will perish save for one man and one woman who will begin the human race anew. 

Now I did not die and go join my ancient fore-fathers at the long table, but I went to a great temple constructed in the 19th century by King Ludwig I that is down the river from Regensburg. Therein are housed the busts of great figures of German ancestry from all of history, and plaques for very ancient figures whose likeness is not known, people like Charlemagne and Hermann. It is constructed in the style of a Greek temple because classicism was all the rage in those days, although it seems a little odd to me that the greatest of the ancient Germanic heavens is depicted in this fashion. I think a massive mead mead hall would be cooler and more fitting, but what do I know. The newest bust to have been added is that of Sophie Scholl, a student at the Ludwig-Maximilians Universität in Munich where I did an exchange year (construction on the university was begun by the same King Ludwig I who built Walhalla, a very enlightened person and patron of the arts). Sophie Scholl was a principle member of the White Rose, a resistance movement during WWII that circulated pamphlets and information about what was really happening in the Third Reich. All of the members of the Weiße Rose were eventually found and executed, and there is a terrific movie from the last few years called The Trial of Sophie Scholl that is about this movement, part of which was filmed at the university I attended.

At the beginning of November the international students club made a trip to Zurich. I had only ever passed through Switzerland and it presented an opportunity to visit my cousin Lauren who works there. It was about a 7 hour trip that afforded me a lot of time to read, but we went by bus so I didn't really have the space to get much work done. As you can imagine, Switzerland is very clean and neat, and everything runs like a Swiss watch. Zurich is in the German speaking part of Switzerland, but the Swiss speak a dialect that is so strange even the Germans have a hard time understanding them. We were able to get by just fine but listening to people talk or to the radio is like listening to someone from Appalachia speak.

Zurich, like Regensburg, is centered on an old Roman fort, making it quite old indeed. It is also similar to Regensburg in that it largely consists of a confusing tangle of narrow, winding  medieval streets that would present muggers with plenty of excellent opportunities if it wasn't so safe there. I managed to navigate my way into the city and meet-up with my dear cousin for dinner. It being the season for game meat, and since we both are big fans, we got some lovely venison with Spätzle on the side. Then we went for a walk along Bahnhofstraße which is like the 5th Avenue of Switzerland and one of the most renowned shopping districts in the world. I would wager it has the greatest concentration of watch and chocolate shops anywhere in the world.

The next day I went with a group of people up to the Üeteilberg which the is the highest point in the area and offers amazing views of the city on a clear day, which we were lucky enough to have. It was unbelievably windy at the top of the observation tower but well worth the climb and the wind-swept hair styles we all acquired. There were plenty of people out doing the same as us, with many dogs running around and having a good time chasing one another, as well as trying to steal sausages and french fries from little kids. After an hour we headed back into town for our tour of the city.

Our tour was conducted by a charming old lawyer who had keys to get us into all sorts of neat little areas we could have otherwise never seen. At one point he stuck a key into a wall, and the floor next to him started to open up by means of a hydraulic lift. Underneath were some excavated walls from the old Roman fort and succeeding medieval castle, and the superiority of the Roman engineers was apparent by their well shaped and fitted stones, while the later walls were just thrown together. He showed us buildings that still had medieval frescoes on the walls, and took us into what had been a medieval sewer that was thankfully no longer in use.

After the tour we broke up into groups and looked for a place to eat. Naturally no one could agree on anything and everyone was complaining about how expensive everything was, and that we should keep walking until we find something cheaper. I grew impatient of walking the cobblestone streets looking at people eating and listening to complaining, as did the Austrian girl with a sprained ankle. What did these people expect? It's Switzerland. Did they really not budget for this? Finally I took charge of the situation and got us a table at a Flammkuchen restaurant telling people they could take it or leave it, and they took it. Flammkuchen is like a German pizza but without tomatoes sauce, it is traditionally served with cheese, onions, and chopped Speck (similar to bacon). After all that fuss, I decided to treat myself to a glass of Lagavulin and chow down. In case you are wondering what Lagavulin is:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5HgTPs2_ut8

It poured rain on the last day of our trip to Zurich, which was unfortunate because checkout time was 10 AM and our bus didn't leave until 4. So a group of, not wanting to hang out in the common room of the hostel for 6 hours, decided to go to the national museum of Zurich, housed in an old medieval palace and filled with rooms with beautiful wood paneling and carvings. It was huge and we had to economize our time, but I had to spend time at their special exhibit on Karl der Große in der Schweiz or "Charlemagne in Switzerland" which had an amazing collection of artifacts including some books with ivory covers that were very highly prized in those days. In fact, Charlemagne had a pet elephant that was a gift to him from the Caliph of Baghdad that he took with him wherever he went (none of the books were made from the elephant). So after spending hours looking at paintings, carved figures and coats of arms, it was finally time to leave the Alps. 

That's if for now. Next week I will write a special Christmas blog for everyone, so tune in for that. For now I will leave you with a picture of the mischievous Katze that manages to find it's way into my building all the time. It keeps trying to adopt me by trying to run into my room and once literally jumped into my arms. It doesn't have a collar or anything so I can't tell if it is a free range kitty or simply someone's cat in the neighborhood who prefers the tins of food people put out for it in the building to what it gets back home. It certainly had the good sense not to be anywhere near our building when the kitchen upstairs caught on fire.

Back to School

Although it has a lot of green space, the 1960's concrete
architecture has earned the university the affectionate
 nickname of"DDR Bunker"-- DDR being the abbreviation
 for the old East German State.

It's been four years since I've been in school, and I was surprised at how nervous I was upon my return. I though everyone else would be much sharper having just completed their BA's, better read-up on the ever-evolving research tools available to us today--a younger, sleeker version of academic than myself. While this may be true, I forgot that the dreaded "senioritis" experienced by students in their fourth year of college took quit a while to get over. Although admittedly rusty, and in a new discipline, what I lack, I make up for with an academic esprit de corps. My first semester's classes were pretty much decided for me already, a class on the fundamentals of the American Studies Department, a class called "Readings in European-American Studies" which is my favorite so far, a class on academic writing, and a lecture I have taken of my own accord on the foreign policy of the USA. Due to the interdisciplinary nature of my degree, I will have a great amount of freedom in the future in choosing my classes and building my degree.

Before classes began, I had an orientation called Starklar which is designed for international students. Like all orientation programs, it was useful but overall tedious, bogged down by a lack of public-speaking ability by most of the people conducting to informational meetings, leading to chatter among the students, leading to questions from those missing information because of the chatter. Arrgghh. Like a good boy, I endured, knowing that a trip to Munich to visit what remains of my old housemates awaited, along with a few Maß of beer at the Oktoberfest.

During the second week of Starklar after I had my counselling session and registration, I headed down to Munich on a Wednesday hoping to meet up with a few people then head to die Wiesn (the local term for Oktoberfest referring to the field where it is held) to catch the last couple of hours in the tents before they closed. However, delays did not bring me there until rather late, and it was impossible to get into any of the tents, so we settled for a seat in one of the beer gardens, which is nice in the day, but on a windy Autumn evening, is less than pleasant. We quickly quaffed a Maß then walked around visiting the various booths, shooting air-rifles, driving bumper cars, riding a roller coaster (three activities that really shouldn't be featured at the world's largest beer-drinking event), and eating some Kaiserschmarm, which is kind of like thick eggy pancakes sliced up and served with sugar, cinnamon, and applesauce.

I had only planned for an overnight trip because I had no shortage of errands to run back in Regensburg. I had bought myself a refrigerator earlier that week but had a long way to go until my living quarters no longer resembled a medium-security prison cell. Providence allowed me a room in the dormitories at the very last minute after an unsuccessful apartment hunt, although it was wanting many things. I knew I would be better off getting as much done as possible before classes started. However, the day I was planning to return was a national holiday (Unification Day) and I knew all the stores would be closed. So I thought to myself, "I will go by die Wiesn for a couple of beers, then head home to do laundry." Famous last words.

After waiting patiently for an hour and outlasting pushy youngsters and foreigners trying to harangue the security guards into letting them into the tents (rookies) I was admitted into my favorite tent, the Augustiner. I walked around for a while before I managed to get some sympathy for my cane by some cute, dirndl-clad girls, at a table in the middle of the room. We quickly made friends, and one Maß lead to another. The music played and the crowd grew more gemütlich and soon we took to dancing. A couple of old ladies'-men from the neighboring table who obviously had the kind of dance training people my age just don't get showed us a thing or two, and soon we were all up on the benches singing and clapping. More beer followed.

I informed my table-mates that I needed to get going if was going to catch the next train to Regensburg, which was met with protestations, one of the guys saying it was insane of me to go home tonight, insisting I come back with the group to his apartment to sleep it off and head back the next day, going to far as to offer me a blow up mattress. So that's what I did. When I woke up in the early morning in a taco-shaped air mattress I neatly folded up my bedding, deflated and stowed the mattress, and still clad in my lederhosen, slipped into the Friday morning Munich commute, grabbing a hair-of-the-dog beer and an early train back to Munich.

The Dormitory Complex where I live

After arriving, I got some laundry going, took a shower, and went grocery shopping. Although my room still has a ways to go, at least I now have some comfy flannel sheets, a down comforter, rugs for the floors, and the cooking utensils I need. These include a lovely set of forged steel, Fridour-hardened knives I ordered directly from the Henckel-Zwillinger knife factory that will serve me for decades to come. I've only cut myself with them once so far, but it was a clean cut and healed very quickly.

Being back in school has also meant getting back into the dating scene. I haven't had a serious relationship since I was last in school, and I must say that being single nowadays is horrible. The reality is that all of the social media that is supposed to protect us actually just serves as a barrier that enables everyone's social anxieties. I think the comedian Aziz Ansari, an American of Indian descent born and raised in South Carolina puts it best.

http://www.refinery29.com/2013/11/57048/aziz-ansari-texting-ruins-dating

Der Große Ami mit Stock

"The Historic Sausage Kitchen" located on the banks of
the Donau, supposedly 900 years old and built to cater
to the laborers working on the neighboring stone bridge

More than once since arriving, I have been referred to as "the big American with the cane," and that is because three days before leaving California, on a particularly foggy night in the Balboa Peninsula, I slipped on some wet steps and bruised my heel bone. Luckily nothing was broken, no torn ligaments, just an annoying injury that takes a long time to heal (no pun intended). This made for a particularly difficult travel day, and has been the source of many strange looks ranging from sympathy to ones with a curled upper lip that seem to say "why hasn't this cripple been sent to Dachau yet?" In fact, one old man who thought I had walked away already said "it pains me to see such a powerful young man struck down in his prime." Almost four weeks later I am nearly able to walk without it, hopefully I will be able to start leaving it at home sometime in the next week. On the plus side, it has been a great conversation starter when going out at night, including one big black bouncer who made me open up my flannel shirt-jacket because he said I had a "gangster walk" to which I replied, "yeah, a baby-faced gangster, maybe." Clearly this guy wasn't from the States or he would have known better.

Simply the best: sausages, sauerkraut, a roll,
a Weißbier, and their house-made,
course-ground sweet mustard

For a little more than the first few weeks I was here I was living in a hostel, in a room of 8-10 people, while I was on the apartment hunt and waiting to hear if I got a spot in the dorms. The housing situation here is extremely difficult, there aren't nearly enough dormitories so the already-cramped private housing market is flooded with students trying to get into an apartment. To compound it, some of the dorms are undergoing renovations, making it even harder to get a spot in them. In the days before I left for Germany, I arranged for six different apartment inspections, upon arriving and checking my email, all but one had cancelled saying they had already found someone. The remaining inspection involved me and a half-dozen others shuffling through a tiny apartment, all trying to make ourselves seem like the ideal candidate. I later learned this was a pretty small group, another person staying in the hostel said he showed up to an appointment and there were no less than three dozen people there. Similarly, I was applying to roommate situations but with a similar rate of attrition, and once again, was looking at an apartment with a handful of other people, all trying to make ourselves seem like the perfect roommate: neat but not  uptight, fun but considerate, trying to make good with the dog. People tend to regard dogs and babies as the best measures of a person, if someone's dog growls at you, or if someone's baby cries when you hold them, the alarms go off "Bad Person! Bad Person!" So thankfully, after slowly and cautiously approaching me, the old bitch (used literally) gave my fingers some enthusiastic licks. It later occurred to me that I had eaten right before the appointment, and the dog may simply have been savoring the flavor on my hands! Nonetheless, the next day I got an email that someone's friend from home was looking for a place to stay, but that I would have been their first choice otherwise, and said they'd like to go get a drink sometime.

The Stone Bridge, currently undergoing renovations.

This continued for sometime, and as the end of September approached I grew continuously more nervous. Even if I did get an apartment, it would probably be more than I could really afford, once again I wouldn't have the money to travel much while over here, I would have to put up a deposit plus pay 2.3 months rent to the Realtor (they control the housing market here, there is almost no renting directly from landlords and sublets are just as rare). Just when I had given up hope of getting a place in the dorms, I got an email to the contrary from the Studentenwerk. I had a very affordable room available October 1. I felt tremendously relieved, went out and bought a bag of beers and handed them out to everyone staying in my room, most of whom were either on the housing-hunt still, or waiting for their dormitory like me.

Now, I felt more apt to explore the sights of beautiful Regensburg, one of the oldest cities in Germany (and actually known as Ratisbon for most of its existence) and a UNSECO World Heritage Site. It's name comes from the river Regen which joins the Donau (or Danube) here. Regen also means rain in German, and is a convenient coincidence because the weather here greatly resembles that of the Pacific Northwest, hence the oft-perceived misnomer "Raincity." Generally considered to be part of Bavaria, and legally it is, the city is technically the capitol of the Oberpfalz or "Upper Palatinate" and enjoys a mixture of cuisine from the neighboring regions, and an unfiltered beer that more closely resembles a Franconian (i.e. Nuremberg) style Keller Bier, although the Bavarian Helles and Weißbier styles are the most popular.

Regensburger Dom (South Side)

The city is built on the site of a far-flung Roman fortress, the walls of which are now incorporated into some the buildings along the Donau which runs through the city, most of which lies to the south. In spite of the relative assimilation of the 1000+ strong garrison, they were nonetheless wiped out by the local Germanen in the late 4th century as it became clear that the empire was receding and the garrison was without hope of external support so far out on the frontier. The city became a bishopric in the 7th century, and the construction of its stone bridge, still in use today, in the 12th century confirmed it as the most important city of medieval Bavaria. Its cathedral, whose construction began in the 13th century, is considered to be the finest example of south-German Gothic architecture. The bridge and cathedral were constructed by generations of craftsman who had only the most basic knowledge of physics and geometry, every stone hand cut, constructed entirely without the use of cranes, which  the Romans had made use of to construct their fortress (they were the greatest engineers in history, of course utilizing thousands of slaves, and only to be surpassed by industrial-era builders). For the last few centuries of the Holy Roman Empire, the "Kaiser" was elected here in a special chamber in the town hall, sitting a few floors above the dungeon and torture chamber. The city is beautifully lit at night, although the cobble-stone streets make walking with a can and a bruised heel a little trying.

A particularly beautiful tree on the Donau

One of the most interesting and often frustrating experiences when abroad is grocery shopping. It's like when your neighborhood market has been remodeled and is now organized differently, but they also decided to put everything in a new language, and my grocery store vocabulary has taken a few weeks to come back to me. What is nice is that the high food standards here in comparison with the US, so even at a relatively cheap market you can still get decent meat, fresh produce, and a wide range of cheeses. My first day out at the market, I fell back into Au Pair mode, and found myself keeping an eye out for the products I used to buy for the family in worked for in Berlin, who have now assumed new posts in Dublin. When at checkout, I unfortunately was stuck behind what looked to be about a 135-year-old, 85-pound nun, who was apparently very hard of hearing and a little senile, as the cashier had to tell her what her total was about five times. What can you do? Good for her for still doing her own shopping.

I want to thank everyone for taking the time to read-up on what I am doing here. Next time I will talk about moving into the dorms and getting started at the university, a well as a short trip back to Munich to visit a few of my old housemates who are completing advanced degrees, and a return visit to Oktoberfest.

Servus!