The Long-Awaited Final Munich Blogpost

In spite of great exhaustion and low morale, the students of the Lewis & Clark München Study Abroad Program were able to power through their last week of class, myself included. A few papers to write, a few tests to take, a nerve wracking presentation to make at the university, and just like that, it was all over. One day I, was sitting in my "Prince's Mirror" class with my 3 German classmates and the professor as we got our "Scheins," archaic pieces of paper with our grades that students have to hold on to in order to present as proof that they have completed their degree's requirements. It is one of the stupidest and most unbelievably un-German things I have ever seen. Regardless, I tuck this piece of paper into a folder, pack my bag, don my sunglasses and head down the stairs, not really knowing what to say to my classmates, and finally out onto the street where I linger for a bit, as though I didn't know to turn left and walk to the subway station. For the last time, I wait at the Universität subway station to take the U6 in the direction of Garsching-Forschungszentrum back from class to the Studentenstadt stop one last time. I waited there in the subway stop, a freshly opened post-class beer in my hand (das Siegbier: Victory Beer I called it, meaning I survived yet another class at the University under close scrutiny, and also to ease the German-overload headache), watching the news bulletins projected on a big screen on the wall in front of me.

As usual, I spent the ride people watching, seeing the characters get on and off the subway, but today I did it with more appreciation. International people watching is just that much better than domestic, the wide range of European tastes in hairstyles alone makes it worthwhile. This pastime significantly improved when Summer began, as beautiful Aryan-looking women seemingly sprang from the ground, overrunning the city--so naturally I fled the country just in time, on order that I might escape from the throngs of beautiful, screaming women beating down my door.

On that last night our program had a very melancholy goodbye party and dinner featuring delicious Bavarian food; those of us with lederhosen and dirndls sported them with pride, and who couldn't have fun dressed up like that? We had one last chance to chit-chat with our program staff. Goodbye to Ralf, the charming and charasmatic program director, to my brilliant though cooky language professor Frau Rischer (our adoptive German grandmother), to Martin, my Art History instructor and the archetype of a tall, thin, modernist Austrian artist, and to Lenka, our attractive and flirtatious Slovakian administrative assistant, just one of the beautiful women Ralf always seems to have staffed for the program, how about that? After a belly full of delicious food and a few pictures, we young ladies and gentlemen reconvened at a goodbye party of our own in the basement of my house, equally melancholy, and extending past the dawn. The last games of international beer pong, one last besoffen group rendition of "Bohemian Rhapsody," and one last conversation ended only by the realization that it was quite light outside and that we could get some breakfast.

After that, life mostly consisted of lounging in the sun when possible and inside when it wasn't, going on some last excursions in the area, and meeting up to bid yet another program partaker a fond farewell.

A group of people in my house had a little goodbye dinner for myself and the other American living in our house, and at long last they were able to eat the beef stew they had seen and smelled many times, but never consumed. It was a big hit, 'farmer food' as I described it. We sat around the rickety tables in our common room, enjoying the favorite dishes of neighbors from across the world--American stew and Ukrainian dessert, German beer and Georgian wine.

The next morning I took the gluttony to a new level when I cooked up some of the leftover stew in a pan with some eggs--talk about eating like a farmer.

I do miss my house mates and the accordion playing and singing of my two Bavarian neighbors, always a riot. But I will especially miss my 4 neighbors from Eastern Europe, a generally sweet and fun group of ladies who always seemed to be laughing and enjoying themselves, which is unusual for normally dour residents of the former Soviet Union. When I was watching Nickelodeon they were having civil wars and were struggling to break away from the influence of Moscow, all while experiencing extreme economic collapse. Even if America is the imperialist capitalist power maintaining an international security racket and spreading free-trade economics and democracy at the point of a bayonet that people say it is, at least I'm on the other end of that bayonet. But that's the lot we have, now that the Europeans are done screwing over the world with colonialism, they don't want to have to do anything about the problems of the world. The two world wars broke their spirit, and they are now pretty inwardly turned, unwilling to assert the force necessary to maintain some sense of order in the world; were it not for the US, the Europeans would just let the world slide into chaos due to a lack of public support for a military action of any kind. They like to talk about what's happening in the world a great deal, but that is all it is, talk. That is probably my biggest pet peeve; how great of hypocrites the Europeans are, talking about how the US is screwing up the world, without taking any responsibility for how they have shaped it, or their unwillingness to act in the interests of the West and the global community as a whole until things really get bad and their backs are pressed up against a wall. The fact is, for the moment, if we don't do it, no one will.The irony of America is that we are now the central character in the troubles of a world our ancestors tried to flee the "Old World" as it was called, but our escape was short-lived.

As the last few days ticked by, I and the other lingerers found ourselves experiencing what can inadequately be described as a mix of emotions, which I continue to experience even now and with no end in sight. It was like waiting for the world's other largest shoe to drop. We knew what was coming, but we had no idea how severe the effects of our sudden transportation across the world would be. Finally, we were blessed with nice weather, sometimes enjoying it outside with friends, sometimes alone through a large, open window as you pack your things. Even now, months later, I can see the wide, spear-shaped leaves of the bushes outside my window, now turned a radiant green by the afternoon sun as it slinks into the west.

Soon I will have to shut up all my shades against the awesome, blinding power of the sun. I remember listening to quite a bit of “Pancho and Lefty” and “Honky Tonkin’” by Townes Van Zandt; "Box of Rain" and "Ripple," and the entireGrateful Dead album Americn Beauty were also listened to on an almost daily basis; the bitter-sweet anthems of my retreat...I shall return...

At some point in the year, it stops being a vacation or adventure and it becomes your life. I don't know exactly when it happened, but I would have to guess sometime during what we refer to as the Dark Times, referring to the particularly grey, icy, and muddy winter we had. Nonetheless, München has been a home to me, whenever I returned to the city I felt as though I were returning to a safe haven. No one required telekinetic powers to predict what happened, namely that we are forced to leave once we have gotten to the point where we feel relatively assimilated and comfortable within the culture, are able to converse well with people, and are generally comfortable with and knowledgeable of our surroundings. I guess that's just life, they give everything to you just so that they can take it all away, if you will excuse my melodrama.

It was even more awkward to re assimilate into American society than it was to assimilate into German society. To put is simply, you don’t have many expectations when going to another country and culture, you come with the expectation of adaptation. When you’ve been gone from your own land for a long time, you have a lot of expectations, mostly that it will be just as you left it, as though your homeland eagerly awaited your return. This is not so, places and people change (especially in this Great Recession), expectations become warped, and your language is confused.

Of course there are things I looked forward to doing, such as going grocery shopping at 2 am just for the hell of it, just because I can. Eating Mexican food and In-n-Out was high up on the list. Just being back on the dollar is great, no more multiplying everything by 1.6, not to mention the fact that goods are considerably more expensive in Europe. When I go to the store it's not a big task where I must struggle with the language and culture, trying to figure out where they would put bouillon cubes in the market, and what bay leaves would be called (Lorbeerblätter, for those who are curious). At the same time, I won't be able to get a half

liter bottle of delicous beer for $0.75, one of the few things here that is cheaper, god bless em. The many references to beer in this blog may seem juvenile at times, but seeing, or tasting I should say, is believing, and I believe in the basic goodness of Bavarian beer, and the culture surrounding it. Therefore, I find any notion—while surely none would exist because my Apollonian self-discipline being well known—that leads people to doubt the seriousness of my academic endeavors to be extremely offensive; it is in fact a critical part of the study of their history and culture. For example, I made a presentation about Kloster Andechs, a Benedictine monastery and brewery about an hour outside of München, which I researched on a purely fact finding trip. I was in the presence of other pilgrims, we were just on different pilgrimages.

Though I will miss the rich food here, I can recreate a lot of it back home. Top foods that will be missed include Kasespätzel, a dish resembling macaroni and cheese but with what are dumpling-like bits of dough and usually served with some pork cutlets or sausage, and Leberkase, which is corned beef and onion pureed and cooked in little loaves, then usually served on a roll or with potato salad. My favorite Bierhall food is a rotisserie half farmer's chicken with a stuffing of sorts therein, and it is succulent. I will also miss the typical Bavarian breakfast, white sausage, buttered pretzels, and wheat beer. That one will be hard to replicate, due to the uniqueness of the sausage, and the social mores in America against drinking in the morning, unless it's a mimosa, which somehow makes it okay.

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It will be nice to being babied again, not by my parents, but by my society. In Germany, the expectation is that you are aware, informed, and responsible for yourself. In the United States, the expectation is that you are stupid and need to have everything spelled out for you, and need everything to be covered in plastic so as to guard against freak accidents. Products in America come with a 20,000 word long disclaimer some lawyer has written to prevent the company from being sued for any possible occurrence of extreme stupidity by the consumer. Rather than curbing behavior to increase the capability and self-reliance of the average person, we cater to ignorance and ineptitude. Germans let their kids scrape their knees, fall, get stung by bees, etc. so they learn about caution and cause and effect. They are also capable of riding a bike when a couple years old and take the subway to school as 7 year olds by themselves. Their parents aren't overwhelmed with media-fueled paranoia of them been kidnapped, raped, tortured, killed, and dismembered because their local news doesn't tend to capitalize on that kind of "news." American kids might as well be raised in bubbles, never learning any consequences first hand when young, and then are inexplicably reckless when they get older. They play games where everybody wins, in a society where nobody's feelings can be hurt by saying anything remotely controversial, and where the special needs and aims of every group requires special treatment, and at the expense of the overall welfare of our society. The USA has become a place where legislation and liability has replaced the personal responsibility of the citizen. So we just keep having government do it for us, telling us where, how, and what, but it's no matter, so long as it's spelled out for us. Some call it liberal social progress, I see it as nothing more than a slow slide to mislabeled fascism. Self-determination is what made America. However, self-determination is hard; it's easier to hand it off to someone else so long as I enjoy the leisure provided me by earlier, more independent, harder working Americans. Democracy is not for the lazy, which is too bad considering how lazy we have all become. So centralization and consolidation continues, historical signs of the waning of a civilization, but it's not too late, fellow citizens, it's not too late...so I will simply close with a word from Thomas Jefferson: “were we directed from Washington when to sow, and when to reap, we should soon want bread.”

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I thought I was going to vomit when I was going to the airport the morning of my departure. I stopped at some bushes on the way to the subway stop, but just dry heaved, no relief, just frustration. One is in a bad place when one actually desires to give over, as the Germans would put it, but is disappointed when they realize that they are in such a lowly state that they cannot even find relief in that most unpleasant of acts. Needless to say, I was handling my day of departure not quite as well as I had anticipated. I did not handle it as coolly as I would have liked when I was told at the airport that I would be charged $200 to check a third bag instead of $40, due to some exception which I, of course, met. I used all the forces of persuasion and German I had to battle the injustice some jerky Kraut was administering on my sorry American ass, but ultimately I had to give up. It was an effort I knew was futile to begin with. It didn't matter what I thought I read on the website, what mattered was what it said in the rule book that sat at that man's counter. Arguing rules with a German is like arguing snow with an Eskimo. I'd lived in Germany for a year, I knew the Kafkaesque hopelessness of battling German bureaucracy, but if this was gonna be the way the Germans saw me off, I might as well go down guns blazing, in the style of Tony Montana in Scarface. It also could very well be that I was somehow cherishing the moment, seizing one final opportunity to mix it up linguistically with a German. Having spoken my mind, I conceded and emptied my pockets.

Luckily one of my best friends from the program, who also goes to UPS, Nadia, was on the same flight as I. We were able to get seats together, significantly helping the 11 hours from Düsseldorf to LAX go by faster. The entertainment for the flight included episodes of the King of Queens and a Mickey Mouse cartoon...actually it was one episode each, they just played them twice. It's okay though, because the second time I saw Mickey enter Pluto into a Dog Show (with hilarious results of course) it really got me thinking as to whether Disney was trying to make a bigger statement about the ethics of training and breeding dogs for such events. Maybe the two hourse of sleep I was able to muster the night before was beginning to take its toll. I was also blessed with not one, but two romantic comedies centered around weddings (27 Dresses and The Wedding Date, the former not being that terrible, the later...). Sleep came and went. While waiting in a long line for the coach bathroom with the rest of the proletarian scum in coach, I had an enjoyable conversation with a German a few years older than I, who said she was going to California as part of a teaching degree. Oh, if only this poor, sweet girl knew what sort of serpent pit full of snot nosed little middle school shits she was climbing into, and her English wasn't even that good. I simply encouraged her to watch a lot of TV and try to learn slang as quickly as possible.

Nadia and I made our way through the terminals of LAX to customs, where I explained my long absence from the country and showed my Visa, nervously hoping to avoid a potentially very time consuming hassle. I was so shocked that I nearly wept when the customs officer told me simply, "welcome home," gave me a piece of paper and I was on my way. I was pleased to find my bags all intact but most importantly present, and so I made my way through the renovations and back to America.

This is where the story of my time in Munich ends. Needless to say, it was a life-changing experience which I will not fully come to grasp for some time in the future, but I know just as much about that as I did about the gravity of what I was doing on August 30th, 2007. The last couple of months, especially the first 6 weeks or so, represented and unbelievably busy, exciting, stressful, and tragic time in my life, mostly centered around my father's death. I now find myself in a more difficult situation than I anticipated. When I first went to college I was told to study what I liked and the rest will fall into place. Now I find myself wrapping up my degree, facing an economy and job market which even the most optimistic would term as uncertain, and without the support of my father. That too is an unexpected and certainly unwelcomed plot development in my life's story, but that's just the way she goes. As I get settled into a comfortable groove, it gets a little easier, but it's still an uneven path, but that all is another story to be told in a different way. That story will be told at another time. After a lot of consideration, the thought came to me that writing a book could be a very therapeutic and fulfilling experience. I don't know how I will approach writing it, whether as a firsthand account, or through the creation of a character with a similar narrative, or something else. I also don't know when I would be able to devote serious time to writing it, so the approaching year will be note taking and brainstorming at best.

Well, this last blog was something I first started in Germany, something that has been revised countless times. Not necessarily from a desire of mine to make it an opus, but out of an inability to find a way to represent it all in a somewhat concise manner, and an often intense struggle with bringing myself to reflect and write on what was, and is, happening to, around, and within me. I write it knowing I will find it inadequate within a day, but knowing that the longer I put it off the grander it could become. So I've kept at it, writing during flashes of inspiration and emotional fluidity, forcing myself to go back and edit when I couldn't muster the mental and constitutional fortitude to write. Cranking out a paper last minute is no problem, writing about yourself to a public forum is daunting and requires time and reflection. This last post especially seemed to need that time, which even at this point is, as expressed earlier, inadequate, but it will have to do because the search for perfection is ultimately foolishness and folly, and a blog is not the place to direct such energy. So then that is it for now! I will close simply with the Bavarian form of Aloha, "Servus!"

The adventures continue: http://kurtinberlin.blogspot.com/

30 Days and Counting

The end of the semester is next week, and after this short but intense spurt of writing and studying, I will have my last weeks of rest, relaxation, and packing, lots of packing. Packing like this requires deep focus and the evaluation of various practical and philosophical considerations. People on the program are talking about the end of the year as though it were the looming apocalypse, which it essentially is for our lives here. Like most everyone else, I find myself looking forward to my return stateside with a mixture of excitement and anxiety, now starting to realize how very weird it will be, not to mention how many fat people I will see. It's already hard enough to write with somewhat proper grammar in my emails and this blog, so there will be lot's of moments where I'll blank on a word mid-sentence or something comes out garbled, just fair warning. By next blog I will have given much thought to my impending return, and will have my reflections on the things I have looked forward to/missed the most in America, and what I will miss about Germany/wish it were that way in the US.

I took a trip to the Rhine and Mosel river valleys I wanted to write about a couple of weeks ago. Sorry to have taken my time getting to it; I was reading a couple of plays for a class at the program and preparing a presentation for my class at the university, and I just couldn't get it done. I know, I know, elbows and assholes. Nonetheless, a couple weeks ago I met up with a friend from high school who had been studying in Seville but happened to be in Düsseldorf, but without anyone to travel with and without any German. I flew into Köln (Cologne) and met her at the train station, as the two cities are not far from one another. It was a very humid weekend which ranged from drizzle to hot relatively partly cloudy skies. We didn't spend all that much time in Köln, as interesting of a place it is, there were other priorities on the trip. We visited the tallest cathedral in Germany, a very detailed High-Gothic edifice that stands about 100 meters from the main train station, and the chocolate museum. There is an enormous gold coffin elevated at the rear of the alter, supposedly holding the body of one of the three kings who followed the star from the east in search of the Christ child. That is quite a claim, in the Middle Ages that would have been regarded as a relic of tremendous power, and at the very least would attract many pilgrims and bring prestige to the city. The chocolate factory was a great time as one can imagine, and there was a little free chocolate, but the exhibits we're pretty cool, and even thinking about it makes my stomach groan for chocolate.

From Köln we went to Aachen, the famous capitol of Charlemagne, known in Germany as Karl der Große, where he had his cathedral built. It is pretty small for a cathedral, but was built in the late 8th century. Successive Emperors of the Holy Roman Empire were crowned there for 600 years. Charlemagne had it built it in the Byzantine style, inspired by the Hagia Sophia in then Constantinople, and it is very brightly painted and decorated inside with an abundance of gold. Unfortunately, when we were there it had become cloudy, dark, and grey, and it was hard to get a clear picture in there as no flash is allowed. It is a very interesting building architecturally, as you can see where it was expanded, but this time in the Gothic style. His palace, which is right behind the cathedral is now the city hall, but when we got here they had just stopped letting people in, so said the security guard taking a smoke break on the front steps of the building.

We returned to Köln by train to get our bags out of the lockers and go to Cochem, on the Mosel. We didn't get in until nearly 11:00 that night and had to navigate to the Gasthof in the dark. My friend was worried after having studied in Seville, but I assured that we were in a quaint medieval town, not in Berlin, and furthermore in Germany, which is a relatively crime less police state. We got to the hostel with our wallets, kidneys, and lives. As you go down some parts these rivers, you'll lose sight of one castle just as another comes into view, and the land between is filled with vineyards; it is magnificent country. Pretty much every town is an important bend in the river, with a castle perched on a cliff above the river, enforcing the lord's tariff on river trade. Some of the castles are maintained as a private residence by the royal family who owns it, or some rich business man who was able to acquire one. The castle in Cochem was destroyed by the Armies of Louis XIV when he temporarily wrestled the Rheinland away from German hands, but was restored by a 19th century business man. The hunting room of the caslte has the head and shoulders of a bore that had to have been 450 pounds, brought down by muskets and finished off with spears; c'mon Bob and Dave, let's see some real hunting. In the armory there is the is a 220 pound suit of plate armor belonging to a 7 foot tall Austrian night, an enormous person for the early 15th century and quite an intimidating prospect on the battle field. The hill sides leading up to the castle are covered in vineyards and you can see right where the stone of the castle meets the solid rock on the ridge. It is very pretty, and redone to be more of a residence than a fortification and barracks, the garden was full of big beautiful red rose bushes that had to be a couple centuries old. Our tour was on the tail end of a wedding and the couple was taking pictures, sounds like a pretty sweet spot for a wedding, then again I do study medieval history. On our way back down the hill we picked up a chilled bottle of local dry white wine for about 2.50 Euro, which was surprisingly good and normally don't like white wine, and walked back down to the town and drank it sitting on the grass by the river like a couple of real class acts. While exploring the old town we came across a tower within the city that was now a place to stay, a little cold in the winter I imagine.

We spent that afternoon taking a boat down the mosel to Koblenz, where the Mosel and Rhein meet, reading and watching the country go by. What they don't tell you is that the Mosel is controlled by river locks, which took up to an hour to go through, which really drove you crazy. I'm pretty sure they use this to break you down and force you to buy a 4 Euro ($6) beer or glass of wine, but we resisted and waited till we got to the train station bar to blow off some steam, where we watched a bit of the Russia/Netherlands game in the quarterfinals of the European Championships. We took a train that said it was going to Boppard, our next overnight stay about 25 minutes away; the train didn't stop for more than an hour until we got to Mainz, considerably east of where we wanted to be, and it was already close to midnight. I called the Gasthof and they told me I was too late and had lost the reservation, but we still got to pay for the room. Now we found ourselves looking for a place to sleep that night in Mainz. I half-jokingly suggested we just sleep in the train station then get an early start to the day. She didn't find it have funny and I was met with one of those stares a woman will give you when you've said something truly stupid or offensive. So I just started asking around and found there was a hostel not far by bus. Eventually we figured out which bus to take, and after a fairly confusing and dark walk we came upon the hostel at about one, which still had a couple of open beds. Sticky and pissed off, I hit the shower and went to bed. About 6 hours later he sun hit our window and sent an inescapable laser beam of light strait into my eyes, rise and shine. This day was the hottest and most humid, and a very active day for us, schlepping our bags from one place to another. We got a regional day pass at the station and took the train back up to Boppard, where we got a light lunch and kept our bag with the owners of the restaurant/Gasthof; in my experience, nice old ladies don't rob you. Save for a really pretty Romanesque church and a few stones from a huge old Roman fort, there wasn't too much to see in the city so we got back on the train and went to St. Goar. We did a repeat of earlier, found a nice looking Gasthof, order something and feel out the people there, then ask to leave our stuff behind the desk. We made the walk up the hill to Burg Rheinfalls which was once the largest fortress on the Rhein. Today it is a ruin and at first did not appear to be so big, until you start to realize that certain parts are not outer walls but rather the side of huge keeps and other buildings, and that the outer walls are further down. The fortress holds a commanding position over the river with two other, smaller castles in sight. This translates to a really healthy walk on a really sticky day. After we explored the old city, we had a couple of well earned gin and tonics before taking the ferry across the river to the train station on the other side. We took a 30 minutes train to Rüdesheim for our final overnight stay, and this time we arrived with plenty of daylight left. After lying still as a couple of lizards in our room we made our way to a resaurant which had a big TV set up outside where we watched Spain upset Italy, much to the enjoyment of three Spanish men sitting at a table near us. The next day we explored the town and made our way to take a gondola of sorts, which takes you over a vineyard colored hillside up to a great hill where the Niederwalddenkmal is. It is a statue of the Goddess Germania, and a monument of their victory in the Franco-German war of 1870-1871, which was started by France, by the way. Following their decisive victory, WIlhelm I was crowned German Emperor, signifying the final unification of Germany into the 2nd Reich (Empire). It is enormous and maybe the coolest thing I've seen in Europe; stylistically is a mixture of classical and early modern. Aside from commemorating the various battles and the German states that fought in the war, there is an inscription on the memorial, whose English translation it given below, but it sounds much better and is more poetic.

A call roars like thunderbolt,
like clashing swords and splashing waves:
To the Rhine, the Rhine, to the German Rhine,
who wants to be the stream's guardian?

Through hundreds of thousands it quickly twitches,
and everybody's eyes brightly flash;
the German, respectable, pious, and strong,
protects the sacred county border.

He looks up to the meadows of heaven,

where ancient heroes glance down,
and swears with proud pugnacity:
You Rhine will remain German like my chest!

As long as a drop of blood still glows,
a fist still draws the dagger,
and one arm still holds the rifle,
no enemy will here enter your shore!

The oath rings out, the billow runs
the flags wave high in the wind:
On the Rhine, on the German Rhine
we all want to be the guardian.

When we got back to Rüdesheim I spied a restaurant with an Andechs flag, and I had to seize the opportunity for Heidi to sample some real Bavarian beer, possible the best there is. Andechs is a Benedictine Monastery that I had visited before the trip. It is about an hour's train ride outside of München, and after a 5km hike through the forest up to "Holy Mountain" (Heiligen Berg) you're pretty thirsty, especially on a hot day like we had. The monastary has a very pretty baroque chapel and is surrounded by fields of mustard and wild flowers. Most importantly, Andechs has what I consider to be the best beer there is, or at least that I've ever had, especially their Doppelboch Dunkel, a strong but very tasty dark beer originally brewed for times of fasting such as Lent, because it was nutritious and filling. We had some masses in the Biergarten and had lunch, I had a lamb shank that was unbelievable. The walk back to the trains station was considerably easier, as was the healthy nap we took upon our return after a little warm up on the train. All around this was a terrific day, and I will have to go back to Andechs one more time before I leave. Most of the beers in Germany were started at monasteries but are now secularly owned, but there are still many smaller breweries with limited production that are still monastically brewed.

Germany lost the European Championship to Spain after a huge win over Turkey, which was a big game here since there are something like 6 million Turks in Germany. I watched the game at a friends house, and after the game we immediately headed into the city. We went to Ludwigstraße, the parade avenue where München's triumphal arch is. The crowds were filled with crazy Germans, who were still relatively well behaved i spite of the tremendous energy in the crowd. Every once in a while someone would climb up and yell "auf die Knie! auf die Knie!" which basicaly means take a knee, then everyone will immediately drop down, then stick their fists straight out and chant some German gibberish, it was a little disconcerting.

May was hot and beautiful, June was rainy, cloudy, cool, and humid, and so far July has been blustery and full of thunder storms. Our 4th of July celebrations were derailed by poor weather which didn't clear up till late in the afternoon, so most of the day was spent drinking beer and talking about how much fun we're missing out on in the US. People were curious about how big of a deal the 4th of July is in the US, as such holidays in some other countries aren't that big of a deal. They have no idea. I was wished a happy 4th of July day by one neighbor in English, but if anyone knew it was the 4th of July they would normally say "fröhliche Unabhängigkeitstag" which means "happy independence day."

That's all for now, thanks for tuning in.

Many Travels and Not Nearly Enough Posts

Hello patient blog-readers,

To help take my mind off of my father's death, I spent most of the month of April traveling; first to Amsterdam, then Prague (Praha), and then Vienna (Wien).


I was able to spend the better part of a week in Amsterdam with a half dozen people from my program here in München. While there we witnessed a pro-Tibet rally with meditating Buddhist monks. Amsterdam is a goofy city, and I had forgotten that it was a canaled city like Venice, which pleases me, as it does remind me of the harbor back in Newport Beach, a rather pleasant inconvenience for those trying to get anywhere in Newport. The canals in Amsterdam are more useful for easing congestion (rather than causing it), and the city sorely needs it. While there, you are constantly on the look out for pedestrians, bicyclists, and cars, all of which race through the city in a very chaotic way. Those who don't keep on the alert find themselves at the receiving end of some local's abuse. The city if full of bikes, there are more than 2 bikes for every resident of the city, so they say, and they are everywhere, huge rows of bikes, bikes chained to just about everything you can imagine. I wondered to myself how many years some of these bikes have been chained to some railing or fence, and whether that was somehow monitored, like if you park your car on a public street for too long. Probably not as it would take an army to monitor such a population. All the canals and narrow streets can make navigating the small city pretty difficult, but thank god that you could probably walk across the whole of it in 45 minutes, so the repercussions of getting lost weren't so severe. Like Newport in the summer, it's easier and faster to navigate the city with a bike than with a car. You couldn't pay me to drive a car through that city.


Since the city doesn't sit on solid ground, almost all the house lean a bit, and the uneven cobblestone streets can be treacherous. Lot's of people I know from the University of Puget Sound happened to be in the city at the same time. One night, myself and three of my fraternity brothers went walking through the Red Light District, but don't worry, we didn't have that kind of bonding experience. I tripped on one of those treacherous cobble stones right in front of a row of windows, and before I knew what happened, one of the prostitutes came out to help me, basically saying "ah, poor baby." I'm sure she thought she had the cure for my hurt ankle, but I didn't; so I just thanked her kindly and went on my way. Although now I'm starting to doubt that she was legitimately concerned for my welfare...What's interesting about the Red Light District, is that the majority of the girls rent out those windows with the adjoining room themselves, and are "independent contractors," if you will. While there we also found out that while drugs and prostitution are legal in Amsterdam, drinking a beer on the street is not. I've been living in Germany for so long, that I thought nothing of strolling around with a road beer. The cops didn't ticket us or anything, I'm sure they realized the hypocrisy of the law.

The Van Gogh museum is one of the coolest things I have seen while in Europe, and the collection there is impressive, but boy was it packed. You're basically in a line that wraps it's way through the museum, which you eventually break free of and can look at the paintings at your own pace. We took a great walking tour of the city that our hostel recommended, the tour guide met us out front before we went to go with the largest group. The future Mrs. Kalanz rode up on a bicycle, a cutely dressed brunette in a tweed coat with green eyes and an adorable Dutch accent. I payed very good attention to the tour and learned quite a bit about Amsterdam. Our age difference aside (which are really just meaningless numbers), I think that an unemployed, degree less college student indebted with tens of thousands of dollars in student loans and no residence of his own has a lot to offer.


I traveled to Prague for a long weekend to visit my three fraternity brothers who happened to be in Amsterdam. I napped a bit on the train there, and when I awoke, the masses of rusting Soviet steel let me know that I wasn't in Germany anymore, and disturbed an otherwise lovely countryside. It was really great to be living with my buddies, if only four four days. Staying with them reminded me of how much I enjoy living in the fraternity house with all those guys, so in that way it was a little taste of home, and their support in this time was really meaningful. Prague is a cool city, a bit over-hyped, but enjoyable nonetheless. Having a favorable exchange rate for once was nice, and I lived quite well while in Prague. The Czechs are good looking people, but like most eastern Europeans, not what I would call friendly. I asked my friends if they had learned any Czech drinking games; they laughed and said they had not, and the only game they ever seemed to play was who could be ruder.


Prague is a very old and important city, once the capital of the Kingdom of Bohemia, one of the most important territories of the Holy Roman Empire. While the city is old and beautiful, the stamp of communism is still very visible. My friends said to be careful about leaning up against anything, as you're bound to get "commie dust" all over you're clothes, which I witnessed first hand. Communism does some weird things to a country. You don't hear people saying much on the street, a behavior that lingers because of decades of passive aggression. As a sign that they did not enjoy communism, everyone went out of their way to appear unhappy all the time, which is easy to do in a crappy eastern European country. The escalators for the subway stations there go really fast, which really catches you off guard. Apparently that was done to discourage children and the elderly from going out much, for what purpose, I do not know. The cops in Czech are pretty corrupt, so my friends told me to avoid them at all costs. What I didn't avoid was the fried cheese sandwiches, which are really just like a big fried mozzarella stick between some bread. Simple, artery-clogging goodness.


I went to Vienna with my program over the long weekend made possible by May Day. Vienna is the most impressive city I have seen by far. It truly has the look and feel of an imperial capitol, except for that the large and powerful Austrian Empire is no more, which is something the Austrians miss but will never say so. Austria is an interesting country, and although it is fairly similar to Bavaria in terms of culture, dress, and language, it is distinctly different from Germany, which the Austrians make very clear. It is a small, rich nation of 8 million and is surprisingly conservative, in fact, the president got in trouble some years ago for making positive comments about the progress and growth that was facilitated by the fascist rule of the National Socialists, but I wouldn't call them xenophobic or fascist. Getting citizenship there is similarly as tough as in Switzerland, before you can even drive on the Autobahn in Austria you have to purchase a special decal to put on your car. The seeming paranoia of the Austrians is understandable, their location is on the edge of eastern Europe, which is historically unstable. It was in Austria that the Turkish Empire's attack on Europe was finally stopped, and today they are still ready for invaders; the mountains of Austria are full of bunkers, barracks, artillery emplacements, and caches of weapons and food. Not really what you expect from the land of The Sound of Music and wienerschnitzel (Wien=Vienna, hence the name).

Nonetheless, the Viennese are the nicest city dwellers I've met and aren't nearly as snooty as people in München can be. We asked a business man where we could find a market, to which he replied that there was one a few blocks away, but that he was headed that way anyways and would take us there. It came up in conversation that he had spent some time in the US so he was interested to hear about where we were from. When we were at a restaurant/bar my friend ran out of cigarettes and the waitress just gave him two of her own.


While there we had a free day, and a couple friends and I went to visit the graves of Mozart, Beethoven, Schubert, Brahms, and Strauss, whose graves are all together in an enormous cemetery. This was a very difficult part of the trip for me; my father loved classical music passionately, and I know how much he would have loved to be there, that this was something he would have wanted to do together. After the cemetery we continued our day by visiting the famous "Bodies" exhibit, in which preserved bodies are prepared in such a way as to illustrate the complexity and beauty of the human body. It was absolutely fascinating, and didn't bother us, in fact we were joking about a bit ghoulishly while in there, and had to keep from cracking up. Beyond muscles, they had every body system there is. There was a circulatory system that they had some how preserved and separated from the body, so that all there was was a bunch of veins and arteries in the shape of a person. The fetal exhibit was of course controversial, even though all of the fetuses died of natural causes. It was fascinating watching it develop from a tadpole at 4 weeks, to resembling a peanut sized human at 8 weeks, and then looking like a tiny baby by 16 weeks. The exhibit reminded me about how the religious right is blocking the use of stem cells in research, which is a criminal deprivation of medical technology with unlimited potential. Apparently all the people were Chinese, probably rice farmers sold by the government, which owns them anyway so I guess it doesn't matter.

That night, the program went to see "The Marriage of Figaro" at the famous and beautiful Vienna Opera House, built in the Neoclassical style. Thank god that they had little screens at every seat with the opera's lyrics, otherwise it would have been a real bore. It was very entertaining, and reading Italian translated into English by a German was at times odd and occasionally incomprehensible. Again, this was a bitter sweet experience, and I thought of my dad for much of the Opera.
This past week I had a chance to go see FC BAYERN, Müchnen's Premiere League Soccer Team, one of the best in all of Europe. The only reason we were able to get tickets was because they were playing a pushover team on a Wednesday night, otherwise their brand new stadium is always sold out and tickets are pricey. Although we were in the second to last row, the stadium is built in such a way that we felt very close (we could easily read the numbers on people's jerseys, for example). Even though I'm not a big fan of soccer, I still had an awesome time and tried to learn a bit about the game. Of course, the crowd was very German and orderly, but would suddenly rise up into an unbelievable roar between periods of intense concentration; the hardcore fan standing section never stopped clapping, chanting, or jumping up and down the entire game. And the subway ride back, as you can imagine, was densely packed with people, singing, and celebration.

Well I'm a couple weeks into the semester now, and I'll keep everyone posted on how school is going once I have a few anecdotes to tell. Unless anyone wants to read my notes written in bastardized German.

My Thanks for Eveyone's Support in this Trying Time

I wanted to briefly thank everyone for their condolences and sympathy with the passing of my father. I have not updated for a long time because I have not felt up to writing about my mother and stepfather's visit, as it seems rather trivial at this time, not to say that it is by any means. I had a premonition shortly after they went home on the 4th of April, and my brother and aunt had a similar premonition at the same time. My father was found dead shortly thereafter in his apartment. After losing his job in December, he went into a deep depression and drinking binge which turned out to be fatal.

My father was born on an U.S. army base in Newfoundland, Canada, on November 13th, 1942, to an Irish immigrant mother who suffered from constant tuberculosis, and a cold professional soldier, a descendant of Austrian immigrants, whom he rarely saw. His upbringing was poor and abused, bouncing around between foster homes and relatives, never being made to feel loved or important. He attended school at San Jose State and UCLA, and was active in his fraternity, Delta Upsilon. He was successful in the real estate development business, until the market collapsed in the late 80's/early 90's, bringing down his business; he never recovered. He was a very well liked, polite man of humor who gave respect and received it in turn. His commitment to physical fitness was complete, and as a man in his mid 60's, he was in better shape than most men in their twenties, a man so physically impressive that he could be quite intimidating. However, underneath the seemingly hyper-masculine exterior, lay a sensitive, affectionate man who loved the arts, especially classical music. He tirelessly drug my brother and I to concerts and museums, trying to broaden us, and was always handing us some article or book to read. It has been hard to accept the fact that his death is beyond myself and has nothing to do with me. He had unhealed scars and demons that he never overcame, until he finally drank the pain away. He always let me know that his love for me and his pride in me was endless, as was his support for me in whatever I did. As saddened as I am about his death, I am happier that his tormented soul has finally found peace. There are those who would say that I should give up alcohol on account of my father's life and death, but in doing so I would only give alcohol the same power over me as it did my father; such reactionary behavior is unhealthy, and the way of moderation is the one to follow in life.

We will be spreading his ashes off of Inspiration Point in Corona del Mar (the picture above was taken by him) once both my brother and myself are able to attend a service upon my return from Germany. It is a place he loved to go to, both alone, with friends, and with his boys, and would be a fitting place for him to rejoin the Earth. Although far from home, I have been doing well, all things considered. The support of my family, our friends, my fraternity brothers, friends at school, and friends here on the program has sustained me; I would be lost without all of you.

Mom and Norman's Visit

My mother and stepfather visited me here in Germany for nearly three weeks, two of which we spent on the road touring Bavaria and Baden-Wurtemberg, the two provinces comprising southern Germany. After a few days of sightseeing here in Munich, we departed for Berchtesgarden, it was dark when we arrived in the town and were understandably lost, finally I told Mom and Norm to pull in to a restaurant where I would ask for directions. The first thing I saw at the bar was two men, they dressed in lederhosen and other traditional Bavarian clothing, which was weathered and obviously worn on a daily basis. I knew immediately that communicating with these men would be difficult, but I was able to decipher their heavy Bavarian dialect and got us to the Gasthof. We stayed there for a few days, visiting the Königsee and the surrounding mountains, including a tour of a nearby salt mine, complete with wooden slides and a trip across an underground lake of 27% salt water. Our guides assured us that were we to fall over the side, that drowning in the water would be nearly impossible. Mom said it was more educational with less slides than when she had visited there some years ago, and therefore not as cool, haha. The Gasthof was very nice, with very attractive waitresses in Dirndls, always a welcome sight, although though being there with one’s parents negates any chance one might have of getting one of these waitresses to have a drink with you when they’re done with their shift. While in the hotel bar, I overheard a few Irishmen talking with one another, one of whom spoke briefly with someone from home on the phone, saying “Bavaria ‘tis the prettiest part of Germany, says I.” Classic. The hotel also had a nice spa, including and indoor/outdoor heated pool. We were able to take a boat tour of Königsee, a favorite vacation spot of the Bavarian Kings and their families. As was true with most of their visit, we were blessed with beautiful and mild weather that day with plenty of sunshine. We took the boat to a Church, St. Bartholomew’s, in a beautiful spot flanked on all sides with mountains and only accessible by boat. We walked around a bit and enjoyed a beer in the sunshine, before returning back to our Gasthof. On the side of the lake, there was a bob-sledding facility, where some local kids were competing with one another, a sport quite foreign to someone from Newport Beach.

From there we traveled on to our next stop, a wonderful old Gasthof nestled alone amongst snow covered trees, about 20 kilometers outside of Garmisch. It lay up a private road, guarded by a toll booth with an odd looking Bavarian we referred to fondly as the troll. It was a family run place and very hospitable, accept for Norman who came down with a nasty stomach bug as soon as we arrived and was not well for a couple of days. Once he recovered, we were able to make a visit to the Zugspitze, the highest mountain in Germany, lying on the border with Germany and Austria; one can literally cross the border while on top of the peak, which we did. It was totally socked in at first, but after a couple hours of waiting, it cleared out and the view was unbelievable.

Once we were all ship-shape, we carried on to Hohenschwangau, our room having a view of the picturesque castle of Neuschwanstein, built by the Mad King Ludwig II, and the fortress of Hohenschwangau. We all did not stay ship-shape for long, as Mom then came down with a terrible case of the stomach flu. I had our tour reservations changed, and Mom, being the trooper she is, rallied the next day for the tours. I was not about to let her come that far not to see what we came for. Seeing as it is Germany’s biggest tourist attraction, we were understandably overrun with oblivious Asian tourists, who I saw get nearly run over by the horse drawn carriages on several occasions, the drivers of which, had obviously had their fill. Mom and Norm thanked their lucky stars that they had no come in the summer, and I assured them that it was a real mad house when I came with my program in September. I was able to avoid getting sick the whole time, thank god.

We had a chance to visit several palaces on our trip, including the winter and summer residences of the rulers of Bavaria in Munich. We were able to make a stop at another of Ludwig II’s palaces, Herrenchiemsee, his tribute to the Sun King Louis XIV and his palace of Versailles. After taking a ferry to the island, we took a windy road by foot through an old-growth forest, from which the palace finally emerged. Ludwig’s replica of the Hall of Mirrors was spectacular, in better shape and more magnificent than the original, according to my mother. In spite of his hugely expensive building projects, Ludwig II was a hugely popular King of Bavaria, who was eventually deposed by his advisors on grounds of mental insufficiency, and mysteriously found dead with his psychiatrist a few days later, probably murdered.

From Hohenschwangsau we proceeded to Meersburg, on Lake Constance, where the borders of Germany, Austria, and Switzerland meet. We stayed overnight in a beautiful, centuries old Gasthof. In the city lay the oldest castle in Germany, first built in the 7^th century. It was very interesting to tour, and provided quite a contrast to the palaces we had seen before; a place built for function, not form. We overnighted once more in Hinterzarten, a town in the south Black Forest so small that it takes about 30 seconds to drive through it. That night we had a great traditional dinner, Norman and I having Kasespätzel, a sort of cheese noodle dish, with medallions of beef and pork. I met a few locals, who regularly congregate in the hotel’s bar, the biggest attraction in town. There was a large group of men there for a business summit of sorts, I believe they worked with bio-diesel. I good group of guys and quite a bit of fun!

From this humble Gasthof we proceed to a nice spa hotel in Oberwohlfasch for a couple of nights. The spa was quite impressive, with fresh and salt water pools, Jacuzzi’s, inhalation rooms, steam rooms, and the whole bit. While there I took a nice stroll through the Black Forest, witnessing a few very blustery ducks get into it with each other next to a small stream, very amusing. From there we went to Schwabisch Hall, where we stayed overnight in a very nice Hotel that had once been a royal hunting lodge. We enjoyed a fantastic dinner there, Norman having a little rack of lamb, my mother and I enjoying a duck served in three portions, first in a soup, then the breast, and then the legs; beautiful meat that was well prepared and presented. While there the weather proceeded to turn on us, very windy and rainy.

From there we went to our final stop, a medieval walled city in western Bavaria called Rothenberg. We stayed in a little Gasthof which was overlooked by one of the city’s inner towers. This place brewed their own beer and it was quite good. This city has an interesting story dating from the Thirty Years War, a terribly conflict from 1618-1648 which pitted catholic and protestant forces against one another. Rothenberg was a Protestant city in predominately catholic Bavaria, it was under siege and the attacking general promised to level the city. The city officials invited him for parlay, and proceeded to get him drunk. On a whim, he said that if someone could finish a 3 ¼ liter stone cup of wine in one pull, that he would leave the city untouched. The former mayor, who probably had a 30 pound liver, accomplished the feat, and slept for almost three days. Being a nobleman and tied to his word, the besieging general took his army and left. I was steered to a local bar there in town, the kind of place where you walked in and everyone stops and looks at you, always a good sign that you’ve found a legit local place. A couple of locals engaged me in conversation and bought me a couple drinks, not the first time this happened on the trip, and I asked them about the annual celebration of this heroic act of drinking. I said that I’d heard it was reenacted every year, and asked if someone actually reenacted the feat every year. He said that they did for a while, but for the sake of that person’s health, it was now only pretend. Understandable, but what a let down, haha! While there we toured a medieval crime and punishment museum. While torture, execution, and public beatings were common, public humiliation was the norm. Often people were forced to wear ridiculous metal masks in public. For example, a man with piggish manners would be forced to wear a mask of a pig, and a gossipy woman would wear one depicting a face with exaggerated feathers, indicating that they heard and saw too much, and in turn said too much. The term drunk tank comes from a similar punishment, where someone who was often drunk in public, would be forced to walk around in a large barrel with bells and weights attached, pretty comical.

After our stay in Rothenberg, we returned to Munich, where we enjoyed one last beer and dinner at my beloved Augustiner Bierhall, and the next day, the weary travelers returned to the good old USA.

Also, I've been having problems uploading videos this time, I'll let you all know if I get that fixed.

The Semester Is Over and I'm Still Standing...Barely

First off, sorry for no Blog for pretty much the month of January. I've spent the last three weeks researching, writing papers, and taking tests on grammar, and have had little desire to write a Blog describing my quality of life which, at that point, was quite depressing. I had one term paper for my art history course, and a short final. I wrote my art history paper (in German) on Philips Wouwerman, an early Dutch baroque landscape artist living in mid 17th century Haarlem, Holland. In it I compared two of his paintings, "Winter Landscape with Skating Rink" and "Rest on a Deer Hunt," and discussed the distinct style of Dutch Baroque, driven by the demands of the Dutch, urban, open art market, as opposed to works specifically patronized by the nobility in most other parts of Europe.

I have a sizable paper due in April for my "Devil and Demons" class at the University, also in German. I am writing about how first the Papacy, and eventually secular rulers, characterized political opponents as devil worshipers and heretics to bring about their downfall. Examples would be the Knight's Templar, the Albegensian Crusade in southern France, and the Baltic crusading of the Teutonic knights. In doing so, I hope to explore the political and cultural significance of such characterizations in the 13th and 14th century, and how "evil" and "demons" represent polytheistic chaos and a challenge to God's orderly universe, as dictated by Papal politics, Catholic orthodoxy, and folk belief. Doing research for this was a real treat, such as searching through a 20,000 page German lexicon on the Middle Age's. I've got the majority of my research completed, and will actually go through with writing the paper in March after Mom and Norman leave.

My mother and Norman will be arriving here in Munich on Wednesday and will be in Germany for 20 days; we will be spending 2 weeks on an auto tour of south and west Germany. Speaking with Bavarians in the country will be difficult, as Bavarian is not so much of a dialect of German as it is a language resembling German. The number and variation of dialects in Germany is quite remarkable. It will be nice to get out of the city for a while, the countryside here is very beautiful, dotted with villages and small towns, each with it's churches topped by steeples and beer halls decorated with antlers, the church not always being the larger edifice of the two. Bavarians seem to be the friendliest of the Germans, but also the proudest and most independent, for which they are not particularly liked by the rest of Germany. East Germans still resemble humorless Commies. Pictured on the left is the New City Hall with the Onion Domes of the Frauenkirche, the cathedral of Munich and seat of the diocese where Benedict XVI was formerly a cardinal.

It feels very good to be on a break right now, a reality that takes a few days to sink in after going hard at the end of the semester. Most everyone was done Thursday night, and everyone was excited for drinks and partying, but by the time 10:30 rolled around everyone was so exhausted that we all started heading for bed! I guess everyone was just burnt out, I've been about as active as a koala bear and as adventurous as a turtle these last couple of days. I'm so lazy that I agonize between cooking for myself and walking to a bar in the Studentenstadt, on the one hand I have to cook and clean for myself, on the other I have to put on shoe's and a coat and walk almost 200 yards. Ich war ein wahr Penner (I've been a real Bum).

Here I am at the famous Hofbräuhaus with a couple girls from the program. Hofbräu is a lot of fun, but too crowded and touristy for me, I'm an Augustiner man all the way, there's never a time when I wouldn't want to go there.

I'm looking forward to traveling over the break, I'm trying to put together a trip where I would visit friends of mine in Prague and Vienna, and then take trip to Budapest. I have another friend in Rome who I would like to visit, to get down on the Mediterranean to warm up. We've had a rather Grey and muddy winter, not cold enough to snow but cold enough to be uncomfortable. I wish it would just snow already so that it would at least be pretty outside, although lately we've had more blue skies, something that Mom and Norman will be able to capitalize on when they visit.

I watched some fine German television recently. German soap opera's are pretty much the same as American soap opera's, the people, music, and set's even look the same. The simplicity of the dialog makes it a good learning tool, in case Gertrude tries to blackmail me out of my share of the estate by revealing it was my fault that Hermann, the true father of her child, is in a coma. I can only take so much before I change the channel, perhaps to an eating contest. Instead of washing hot dogs down with water, they were washing down schnitzel with beer, schnitzels that were the size of an extra large pizza. It was difficult to watch so many pounds of breaded and fried pork being consumed, but strangely captivating too considering that they would wash it down with something as filling as beer, and guys were even pouring their beers on the schnitzel! It was gross but at the same time they spent a lot of time showing how they were prepared, and it looked like damn fine schnitzel. The rest of German television is all shows about how they manufacture tiny screws and other "how things work" programs.

Here on the left my friend Everett and I are in the basement of my building a couple nights ago.

Well that's it for now, unless you want to hear more about my research, which I am pretty sick of myself!

Norman, Kathryn, and I will be on our trip for the last two weeks of February and into the beginning of March. I will try to update at some point on the road when I can get hooked up to the internet or find some wireless, but no guarantees!

Bis nächste Mal! (Until next time!)

Frohe Neues Jahr!

Happy New Year's!

New Year's Eve was truly a grand night here in München. Many people from the program had returned so we had a good crowd. I also had a couple of squatters staying with me (pictured left on either side of me at the U-Bahn as we head to Mariensplatz). The are the girlfriend of a fraternity brother of mine who transferred schools and I haven't seen in a year and a half, and her friend. Out of the blue I was contacted by this girl who I had never met before looking for a place to stay and something to do on New Years. Normally I would have been less trusting, but the holiday spirit was strong in me. They're good people and their stay was a lot of fun. They are at Illisheim, which is a small town with a big army base. They work in the daycare/school of the base and get to babysit army-brats all day. Sounds like a blast. They were overjoyed to get to a big city for New Year's.

Per usual, the gang of Americans assembled at my house for a little New Year's Eve Party before going to Mariensplatz, a plaza that is the heart of the city, around 11. Fireworks are legal here for New Year's. Not just little crappy fireworks, but roman candles and mortars and whatever else you please. When we were in the train station at Mariensplatz, it was full of smoke from people lighting off fireworks inside the station. New Year's is apparently the most un-German night of the year in terms of people's conduct. Mariensplatz was a madhouse, though by no means dangerous or anything like that.

Here is a video I took at midnight, at the right hind side you can see the New City Hall (Neue Rathaus) with it's great belltower with an enormous Glockenspiel which features not only dancers, but jousting knights. The Bavarian knight, in white and light blue, dismounts a knight in the red and white of the rival Hapsburgs of Austria three times a day. The Hapsburgs were one of the longest dynasties in Europe, spanning 600 years and at one time controlled Germany, Spain, southern Italy, and the Netherlands, until their reign ended with the defeat of the Austro-Hungarian Empire in World War I). It is a beautiful building built in the late 19th century in the historical style, combining ornate High Gothic architecture (peaked arches, spires, flying buttresses) with Renaissance influences. To the left, in the distance, the Onion-Topped domes of the Frauenkirche's bell towers are barely visible through the smoke (and my camera's motion recording quality is not great as it's mainly meant for still shots). The cathedral is enormous and continues to dominate the skyline. Built in the 15th century, it houses some relics, as well the the grand tomb of Kaiser Ludwig der Bayer (Louis IV of Bavaria), King of Germany (1314) and Holy Roman Emperor (1328) until his death in 1347. During the video I will turn behind me to see more of the celebration. The building you will see is the Old City Hall (alte Rathaus) constructed in the 14th century in typical early Gothic style, still maintaining some Romanesque features (rounded arch windows, for example).



We ended up not traveling over our Christmas break, partly because of weather, and partly because we wanted to save our money for our semester break, when traveling will be much cheaper than during the holidays, and when we will have more time (9 weeks).

Monday our semester resumes for the last 6 weeks. The most pressing thing on my mind is a 10 page paper I have to write, in German, for my Devil and Demons class at the University. I am dreading it. It will be nice to resume my Art History course, though, which is taught entirely at München's wonderful museums.

Just a short blog this time, not much to write about besides going to the market and being cold. The days are getting longer, thank god, for a while there it was dark by 4:30.