tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32494340722349734092024-03-13T20:31:10.527-07:00Claire Goes To DeutschlandClaire Goes To Deutschlandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07848762058333837770noreply@blogger.comBlogger37125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3249434072234973409.post-70808559142680243982013-12-23T07:14:00.002-08:002013-12-23T07:16:40.684-08:00My new blog on my year in South AfricaHello all!
I wanted to direct any one whose curious about my college study abroad to my new blog: <a href="http://livingintherainbownation.tumblr.com/">http://livingintherainbownation.tumblr.com/</a>
I will be studying for a year in Stellenbosch, South Africa and hope you will join me on my journey!Claire Goes To Deutschlandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07848762058333837770noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3249434072234973409.post-90653730012380745342012-01-05T04:37:00.003-08:002012-04-09T11:55:51.194-07:00Update- 2 years laterAn update post has been something I’ve been throwing around in my mind for quite some time now. In retrospect, what’s been stopping me has been my own fears that I won’t do it justice. It’s been almost two years since I left Germany. Somehow, even though the phrase is overused, it feels like yesterday. <br /><br />To be honest, I doubt much of what I’ll be telling you is totally unexpected. My exchange year made me stronger, more open, and gave me a sense of family I had searched for since my childhood. <br /><br />I’ll be real though, the things I learned on exchange seemed much more apparent in the <span style="font-weight:bold;">immediate</span> months following my return to the States. I suppose after so much time passing, they are so much engrained in me that I no longer notice their presence. <span style="font-weight:bold;">This being said, I will share the things that have stuck after several years:</span><br /><br />1.<span style="font-weight:bold;">Life is too short to do anything, ANYTHING that you don’t want</span>. To put it bluntly, obligation just doesn’t exist in my world post-exchange. There’s too much that I want to do, and not enough (when you actually think about it) barriers to me doing so, for me to care too much. Exceptions could be getting myself "edumacted" at college, which will live on as the biggest obligation I have succumbed to. <br /><br />2.<span style="font-weight:bold;">Don’t fight the things or people that can’t or won’t change</span>. There will always be situations, whether temporary or permanent, that cause you pain, but trying to change them will only hurt you. The best you can do is to accept unfairness, unkindess, or straight up shit you just don’t wanna deal with, and sometimes, if you can, learn to laugh about it. <br /><br />3.I read a quote that basically sums up this lesson, and it goes something like this: <span style="font-weight:bold;">If you want something you’ve never had, you’re going to have to do something you’ve never done</span>. It’s hard to accept in some situations that God doesn’t make a hobby out of your unhappiness, but rather in some circumstances finding your own peace means getting out of your comfort zone and accepting that it’s something you are doing that’s keeping you from what you want.<br /><br />4.Lastly, <span style="font-weight:bold;">do stupid stuff</span>. I can’t emphasize enough how doing stupid things keeps my sanity. Although I seem uptight at first, hang out with me long enough and I’m bound to make an ass out of myself for not only the entertainment of other people, but for myself. There are too many serious things in this world, that it’s important to take advantage of times when you can <span style="font-style:italic;">just let go</span>.<br /><br />That’s about the extent to my 19 year old wisdom. Aside from that, I’m content being clueless about basically anything else. <br /><br />As a short, less philosophical follow-up, in the past two years I’ve graduated from high school and am almost done my first year at George Washington University studying anything that doesn’t make me write papers. I registered as an AFS volunteer my first week back, and have since met some of the most hardworking, fabulous volunteers and students that are out there. They provide me with a steady flow of inspiration and laughter. I have seen my host family twice since 2010 and plan on studying abroad again in South Africa, but other than that try to prevent myself from much planning.<br /><br />It still goes that anyone with questions is free to hit me up at clairemac93@verizon.net. I’ve enjoyed the random emails over the past years. <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbkyq877F-9PSwG_-6n8XnDRb45VweUorvHXFSg17rBHDZTIOGZ69FIBK89vjGT6GBnf_vfb1d-eSmCTMnUXjN3MvsShEPMKN1TtauJ3kIsOK-m05IueVOsUi1qHSAhPTkZNmCD4O7VNjy/s1600/SAHM+FAMILIE.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbkyq877F-9PSwG_-6n8XnDRb45VweUorvHXFSg17rBHDZTIOGZ69FIBK89vjGT6GBnf_vfb1d-eSmCTMnUXjN3MvsShEPMKN1TtauJ3kIsOK-m05IueVOsUi1qHSAhPTkZNmCD4O7VNjy/s320/SAHM+FAMILIE.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5729472811468991778" /></a> My host family visiting West Chester this past Summer.Claire Goes To Deutschlandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07848762058333837770noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3249434072234973409.post-69663549189761572602010-07-11T19:04:00.001-07:002010-07-11T19:16:54.163-07:00Last EntryI'm home. Though at this point it feels quiet weird to call anywhere home. The goodbyes with the host family were as sad and teary as expected. Afterwards, it simply left me feeling emotionless, not knowing what to think and being drained of all thoughts. The flight was painful, 9 hours in the middle of the day. Of course, I was the one whose TV was broken. Great. But I slept, and read, and listened to my Ipod, and at one point switched with my friend Jess to watch Ratitouille for an hour or so. <br /><br />Coming home was unreal. My room smelt the same as I remembered. My books and pictures from before were still on my wall. Other than the new me, not much had changed. But I was glad to see my parents and sleep in my bed. I got an email from my host Mother telling me she misses her third daugter and that reading my letter that I left for them left her in tears and that shes already bought my host sister a suitcase to come visit me this Spring. She said its amazing that in 8 months I became a real part of the family. It was sad and nice to sleep after reading that email. But I called them today and it felt a lot better.<br /><br />So now I'm left in a very very VERY stressful stage. A lot of things had been left behind this year. Leaving me with a driver liscence to acquire, summer school to complete, searching for colleges, and giving birth to the 17 pound German Food baby I made this year. <br /><br />Thank you all for reading my blog, I hope it met standards. I encourage everyone reading to host an exchange student =D or to become an AFS volunteer. If anyone has any questions, I'd be glad to answer any at Clairemac93@verizon.net. <br /><br />Peace bitches!Claire Goes To Deutschlandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07848762058333837770noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3249434072234973409.post-56723480396474928902010-07-07T15:30:00.000-07:002010-07-07T15:45:20.255-07:00First GoodbyesToday was my last day in Berlin. My family threw a goodbye party, inviting family, neighbors, and friends to wish me goodbye and reminisce on the year. Gifts were given and speeches were made, but I didn't have to say goodbye to them today, that comes tomorrow.<br /><br />But today was my last day with my friends. It was also the Germany vs. Spain game. At the same time, Germany's time in the World Cup ended and so did my time in Germany. My friends and I walked through the dark city to the train station, where they waited for my train with me. As my train was announced over the loudspeaker, my heart stopped.<br /><br />Indeed, a year had passed. And as much as you want to deny it, this is goodbye. For a long time. We cried, and I don't think I've ever felt such real-loving hugs as I felt tonight. Hard hugs that try to stop time, but fail, and yet hold on longer. They continually pressed the button to open the train door, so that we could hold a few seconds longer of a tear filled look goodbye and last second kisses on the cheek. <br /><br />I found surprising refuge in a group of soccer fans going home. College kids who saw me crying and made me laugh and walked me home, even through my deep sadness. They all hugged me goodbye (something that after 5 minutes of knowing someone doesn't usually occur in Germany), but I know they knew thats what I needed. And still need.<br /><br />Tomorrow I say goodbye to my host family. Something I don't even want to imagine right now. <br /><br />Even though they won't read this, I'd sincerely like to thank those people here that took me under their wing such as Pitty, Herr Schuttler, Frau Doktor Schussel, and Steffi. I'd like to thank my Grandparents for giving out their love to a complete stranger as if I was their own grandchild, and...and a million others. I thank you all. And though I never thought it would happen, I've fallen in love for this country and this life. <br /><br />I don't know how to be a good writer when I'm upset. Or have a nice ending. Instead I'll leave off saying the thought of sleeping right now is hard. I don't want to loose even one of those last moments.Claire Goes To Deutschlandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07848762058333837770noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3249434072234973409.post-64718987426098665162010-07-05T02:01:00.001-07:002010-07-05T02:15:55.992-07:00I tiptoe towards the endLeaving. Something that at times during this exchange you dream about, and others you slap yourself in the face for even pondering. Its a hard concept. You had a family here for a year, a community, a home, a room, a school, and all of this-good and bad- for a year was yours. And though I left as quickly as possible from Pennsylvania looking for any adventure available (as my Stepmom rightly phrased it-into a black hole), I've unconsciously become attached to all this. From little things like my German style bedroom windows and sharing our one bathroom with the whole family, to big things like how the main train station looks at night and being able to stay out until all hours.<br /><br />I think what I'll miss most is the freedom. The trust, that once 16, your instantly handed in this society. Your never told "your too young" or made to feel inferior because of your age. Parents don't wait up for you or ask you a million questions over how your getting home. Instead, they trust you to take care of it yourself, that your smart enough to get home. And it makes you step up to the plate at a very young age. Or so I think. <br /><br />I'm currently under the dilema of packing. I didn't realize the sheer load of crap that I've built up here. A lot has had to be thrown away (thereby I have no jeans to wear) and a lot is staying here. Still, I've had to send two packages home. The limit for my suitcase is 20 k. I will thoroughly enjoy lifting this on and off trains to get to Frankfurt, where I'll be flying out from. I'll be bringing back things that hold a lot of memories here. A carton of hand painted eggs I made at Easter with my host sister. Train tickets from all over the country. Entrance cards to the Black Eyed Peas concert and a Queen tribute at the planetarium. I'd rather bring those back than clothes. <br /><br />Tomorrows my last day of school, and then Wednesday is my goodbye party with family and friends (and also the Germany vs. Spain game). It's ganna be a tough transition, but I suppose at least I know that beforehand. Summer school, getting a drivers licence, a job, and volunteering all await my return. I said towards the end that I wouldn't get sad and instead enjoy every moment. But at the very very end, its becoming harder and harder not to ignore the clock.Claire Goes To Deutschlandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07848762058333837770noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3249434072234973409.post-88492199728099300252010-06-30T05:11:00.001-07:002010-06-30T05:43:40.766-07:00The Sounds of SummerI find it hilarious that the kids at school complained all winter about the cold, but now its over 30 degrees Celsius and they are all still wearing pants, long sleeves, and scarves. Yes, scarves (God forbid Man be any less stylish due to weather). Then again, I go to a school where most of the kids come from the Middle East and Asia who are very "traditional". So basically I have two options. 1: Wear what they wear and die inside of myself. 2: Wear weather appropriate clothing and get dirty looks. I take the second. I always have the excuse of being the exchange student. <br /><br />Summer vacation here hasn't actually started yet but the feelings definitely there. Fieldtrips are being made, ice cream eaten at cafes at all hours, and lots of naked butts to be seen tanning in the parks. I've been enjoying going to the countryside with the host Dad and swimming in the lake and tanning by the river with friends(my fellow students think that the reason I'm so tan is cause I'm American?). Parties are a lot more enjoyable now that I don't have to wait for the train in -20 degree weather. <br /><br />As far as my report card, it was sort of stressful. I am getting grades in Math, Chemistry, French, Gym, and Music. They aren't amazing grades, but I was graded literally EXACTLY the same as the other students, no "your an exchange student, I'm just ganna throw a good grade at you". But its nice, I feel like I really worked hard for what I got. Before I left, I did English and History summer school for my credits. And then I'm doing Pre-Cal in the Summer I get back. <br /><br />Trying to enjoy every minute I've got left and appreciate everything I have here. Hope everyones enjoying their Summer =DClaire Goes To Deutschlandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07848762058333837770noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3249434072234973409.post-68670143816016164062010-06-24T14:17:00.000-07:002010-06-24T14:29:10.324-07:00Rush Hour in HeavenTonight was one of those times that you tell yourself "Don't forget this". So I thought I'd write about it. Short and quick before I get into bed.<br /><br />Today a family friend, Saskia, came back from a year in the US. A group of about 20 of us waited to greet her at the airport.<br /><br />But before she came out...A teen guy walked out with the same look I did on my first day. His host family was waiting to meet him for the first time. I was in aww. At first I smiled and laughed, as if watching a family movie of myself. But my smile quickly faded. Realizing that seeing him was confronting me with my year. That <span style="font-style:italic;">was</span> me. That was a scared young girl arriving in the first foreign country in her life. That was me arriving at a huge train station after dark and looking around frantically to where my host family may be waiting. There was me 10 months ago. <br /><br />Then Saskia came out. Flabergasted and unable to speak German, she didn't know how to react to leaving one life for the next. In a matter of minutes, I saw my year flash in front of me. I saw my first moment in Germany. And through Saskia, I saw my last. <br /><br />We all headed to Saskias house for a welcoming party. But my head was a blur. I cried in my host Moms and sisters arms knowing this party made me realize how close I am to the end. I realized my year has flashed behind me. <br /><br />The party ended up being amazing. But coming home at 11, riding in the dark of the countryside with my family, seeing the planes fly over and the trains pass where all you could make out was lit up windows, I realized how much moments like that mean to me. Simple moments where I think with all my heart "I'm happy"- as easy as that. The end is coming, and its sad, but the ride is so enjoyable that one just has to close their eyes and act like the end isn't coming.Claire Goes To Deutschlandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07848762058333837770noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3249434072234973409.post-26027296169190948222010-06-13T03:23:00.000-07:002010-06-13T03:37:06.865-07:00Speaking the LanguageFresh back from my End of Stay camp in Berlin (aka here), I'm now faced with the fact I have three weeks remaining. Though some cried at camp about how little time is remaining, I'm not ashamed to say that I am equally as sad to leave as excited to return. Yes, Germany has been a great year and I have tons of memories, buuuuut I also put my life on hold back home for a year, and I'm quiet looking forward to all that the next year will bring. <br /><br />But one thing that was a surprise for me at camp, was how many fellow exchange students spoke to family or friends in Germany in English. Some people got calls from their host sister or friends from school, and spoke completely in English. I know they don't all do it, but it was just quiet shocking. I feel incredibly guilty talking to anyone in English, and I only have a year to learn German.<br /><br />This got me to an interesting topic. Apparently, many host kids have been asked by their host families to teach them English and many host in order to "learn English". They have asked that in return for them paying for your food and housing you, that it's only fair that you speak English with them, even if its just at meals. Now, my host family didn't do that, but I'm drawn in my mind of what I would have done had they asked. I mean, I understand that hosting really is not only time consuming but takes money, but its also not an exchange students job to teach and if I came from any other country I would not be put into this position. <br /><br />But I get it quiet often, people trying to practice their English on me. A good tactic is just to respond in German until they stop. It's just that in Germany, they teach English very well, and when someone hears your accent they almost instantly respond to you in English. But, if I started talking to you in German, you should respond in that language. If I was a tourist, I'd start in English. <br /><br />Also, the World Cup is going on right now. Something I've never heard of in the states (because if you haven't noticed we suck at soccer...). People all around the city go to bars or viewing parties to watch the game, and in fact my host family is hosting a viewing party tonight for the first German soccer game against Australia. Last night, America tied against England 1-1. Not bad, America.Claire Goes To Deutschlandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07848762058333837770noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3249434072234973409.post-9036198345852528712010-06-08T05:32:00.000-07:002010-06-08T06:16:29.726-07:00It's Tuesday the 8th!<span style="font-weight:bold;">Things I've Surprisingly Gotten Used To:</span><br />- <span style="font-style:italic;">Sucky weather</span>. I got so used to it that when good weather came I didn't know how to react. But my mood lifted like crazy, until a random day of cold dark weather, in which it dropped from its high.<br />- <span style="font-style:italic;">People not moving on the sidewalks</span>. When someone is coming in your direction, your ganna have to move, cause they won't. This makes me wonder what happens when two Germans walking in opposite directions pass one another. Must be cataclysmic. <br />- <span style="font-style:italic;">Class's "falling out"</span> (snaps for Claire's direct translation). In school, when teachers don't come, you don't have class. No substitute, just no class. Free time. I think I'm ganna die when I come back to substitutes and busy work. <br />-<span style="font-style:italic;"> Not smiling at babies and dogs</span>. NOT SOCIALLY APPROPRIATE HERE AND SO FREAKING HARD TO RESIST!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Things I Don't Think I'll Ever Get Used To:</span><br />- <span style="font-weight:bold;">Seltzer Water</span> ( ALL water here is with bubbles, and despite my year long exposure to it, I can't drink it. My family thinks I'm nuts that I drink from the tap)<br />- <span style="font-weight:bold;">Lack of shorts/skirts</span>. Lets just say its been over 20 for a couple weeks now, and NOT ONE person in my class has worn shorts or skirts. <br />- <span style="font-weight:bold;">Meals</span>. My stomach, after 16 years of having Dinner as my biggest meal, is still not used to lunch being the biggest and eating practically nothing for dinner. <br />- <span style="font-weight:bold;">Using the formal and informal versions of "you"</span> (much like in Spanish). I can't seem to remember that when speaking to strangers or elders I should use "Sie". With strangers its not a big deal, but the elderly here get really peeved if you don't show respect. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">I also wanted to discuss the grimy parts of living in the countries capital.</span><br /><br />1. <span style="font-weight:bold;">Gypsies.</span> Yeah, yeah, Ezmerelda was cool and pretty in the Hunchback of Notre Dame, but these ladies are no Disney characters. With gold teeth, long skirts, and always seeming to have a baby in their arms, I find myself avoiding certain parks and train stops so I don't run into them. They always ask the same question, "speak English??" and when I first came here, I fell for it! EVERY TIME! I kept thinking it was someone needing directions. But once you say yes, they'll hand you a card explaining some tragic story and asking for money. I think it goes way too far when I see them training their young kids to beg for money or when they come into restaurants or coffee shops to beg. So if your ever asked in Berlin if you can speak English, don't answer.<br /><br />2. <span style="font-weight:bold;">Pfand Diggers</span>. In Germany, they have a system in which if you give back the bottles you buy for soda/water/etc. then you receive money back (Pfand). Its similar to what the states has with cans, except it gives back a lot more. Its a way of encouraging people to recycle and not just throw away their bottles. But this invites a huge group of homeless people to spend their days going through all public trashcans looking for bottles. Some will come with flashlights to look into them, and some come into trains to check those trashcans. THIS goes too far when you are in the park or at a picnic and they come and wait for you to finish drinking and then snatch your bottle. But many people work with them, giving them the bottles to get them out of the way. <br /><br />3. <span style="font-weight:bold;">Neo- Nazis</span>. Now, Berlin's a bit different from the "East-German-Hood" (as we CBYXers have named it) of my past host family. In the EGH, the neo Nazis you see are indeed that- nazis. They are real and scary and truly believe in those ideals. But in Berlin I find it to be different. The neo-nazis are just punk kids trying to look tough, who drink a lot and pee on city buildings and all seem to have a huge dog with them ( I was napping in a park once and one of their dogs licked my face...). They won't hurt you, their just sort of douchebags. BUT the other day I saw a guy with a swastika tattooed on his forehead, technically illegal, but that's a good sign he was legit. One just has to remember to speak German when their around you, as to not raise your hand as a foreigner.Claire Goes To Deutschlandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07848762058333837770noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3249434072234973409.post-30087013998771358502010-06-01T07:53:00.000-07:002010-06-01T08:28:58.065-07:00Why I've Been GoneHi. To all. So, apparently my blog disappearing created <span style="font-style:italic;">a bit </span>of a stir. And yes, I know, it's been gone for quiet some time. Heres the thing: I <span style="font-style:italic;">really<span style="font-weight:bold;"></span></span> didn't like writing in this thing. At the beginning, when everything's new, it's really fun to verbally vomit out your reactions. But after Christmas I had nothing new to write, yet with the buzz about my blog I felt this extreme pressure to say something, <span style="font-style:italic;">anything</span>. I had my political opinions on Germany or social expectations I felt strongly about, but readers are only readers when your feeding them information they agree with...or it seemed that way. And I'm not a journalist, so after a few really negative comments I just sort of said...."ya know what, fuck it. I don't like writing in here, and they don't like reading it". So when I had some technical problems with my account, I just let it be a reason to let my blog "disappear". <br /><br />This being said, I've missed writing. If not just for the soul reason that ever since I stopped the blog I've had to actually respond in full to peoples emails as opposed to just saying, "yo, check the blog". But in reality, it's because I'm coming to the end of this little adventure and...it's hard not to write about it. <br /><br />I guess I'll start by informing you on the dillydallyings of my life during my hiatus (in which I actually had to open my assignment book to see because my brain has unfortunately deteriorated due to not giving it daily...cough weekly cough...workouts). I joined a chorus. My chorus <span style="font-style:italic;">"broke up"</span> dramatically like a boy band. I went to a German opera- fell asleep and ripped my black panty hose resulting in me sitting with my hand awkwardly laid over the hole of my leg the rest of the show and a teen girl whispering "Schlampe" (slut) as she passed me. Why thank you, I loved the last song as well! I started cooking for my host family. Though Kraft mac n' cheese got the bigger smiles. I can read books in German. Like legit books, I like it a lot. Currently just finished <span style="font-style:italic;">Die Welle</span>. I saw Alice in Wonderland in German and 3D, it was a brain explosion. I ran a 10k with my host Dad and proceeded to then eat the largest currywurst you've ever seen. My parents visited despite AFS constantly telling you not to have them. I started yoga. I started owning my French class ( <span style="font-weight:bold;">Clarification:</span> In Claire's deteriorated mind, owning French class means getting C's. But hey, I'm being taught French in German so...YEAH!). I turned 17, and my host family surprised me with tickets to the sold out Black Eyed Peas concert in Berlin. And then I went to London and stayed with friends for a week. <br /><br />In short, thats a recap. Might go into more detail about them a little later. But first just wanted to establish myself as being back. Hope its okay.Claire Goes To Deutschlandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07848762058333837770noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3249434072234973409.post-90101989024745894192010-03-02T06:21:00.000-08:002010-03-02T08:22:02.834-08:00Never Liked Sundays AnywayYou know, at home in the US, Sunday was a distinct day. I never got out of my PJ's, slept in til noon, and did homework until sundown. It was my relax day. Ohhhh how ironic to think about a relaxing Sunday.<br /><br />But I suppose I'll begin from well...the beginning. This past week I spent at midstay in Bad Honnef (in between Bonn and Cologne). It was a midstay specifically for Congress Bundestag scholarship winners. Our first rule was "German is the camp language" which was definitely not at all followed. By the end of camp, we even managed to get our camp counselors (betreuers) to be speaking English. <br /><br />I'd go through details, but they'd be boring. I had absolutely the most amazing time, and we all agreed that we haven't laughed so hard since arriving in Germany. I got absolutely no sleep during the night, to the point when we were given free time, my roommates and I went upstairs, closed the blinds, and took a nap time like a bunch of three year olds. <br /><br />It's lovely to talk to other Americans doing exactly what your doing. It makes you feel...sane. You realize many have the same problems as you do, and also get to compare your German to others (some came with no German and have better German than I do...fml). But it's amazing times like these that have a price. Returning home everything seems so quiet, the nonstop laughter's gone, and your stuck missing those you left. It happened after my orientation in Washington, after Late Orientation Camp, and now again. <br /><br />Now to the Sunday Story. Sunday was the day we all went home from camp. I was on literally one hour of sleep and was completely out of it. We said our goodbyes and then a group of us took a train from Bad Honnef to Cologne. From Cologne, I caught a train to Berlin with two other Cbyxers Jack and Mike. Or at least, the train was SUPPOSED to go to Berlin (about 5 hours away). But little did we know that Storm Xynthia (could they have not spelled it with a "C"?), which killed 62 people in France, now hauled ass over to Germany. So what would you know if our train didn't get hit by a tree? And while we were in the middle of nowhere? <br /><br />So after sitting in a halted train for two hours, watching sparks fly off wires and hearing of a flooded train car, we finally actually went the wrong direction on the tracks back to a small train stop in the middle of nowhere. They had two buses waiting to take us to a real train station where we could catch another train. But those two buses only fit half the people, leaving the other half of us waiting in the pouring rain and wind for another 2 hours before more buses came. We were hungry, and exhausted, and many had small children. Jack and I spent our time playing the game "How could this situation be worst". Finally we caught a half hour bus to the Dortmund Hauptbahnhof. Looking up at the Destination-Board, there was not one train that hadn't been delayed. It was now dark. The next train to Berlin was delayed an hour. We met an English guy and a German who were just as confused and we all went for Turkish tea together before our train came. Upon returning to the train station, it was announced that our train was canceled, as were all the other trains going to Berlin. It was 8 pm, in a town we'd never been in, on a school night, and none of us had working cell phones. My family had expected me home hours ago. <br /><br />The train station said, "Tough luck. Find a hotel or sleep at the train station". They set up a train that stayed in the train station for people stranded to sleep in. But, Jack Mike and I weren't exactly thrilled to sleep in a train with strangers. So we called AFS who found us a former AFSer living in Dortmund who picked us up, bought us pizza, and gave us a beautiful place to stay. Needless to say, we were lucky. Our host was the nicest German I've ever met. We slept in and caught a 2 o'clock train the next day. It was an adventure, and as stressful as it was I am so thankful for both AFS being there and the fact that I had Mike and Jack with me. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy9bL7jpwi_xQ4b4EXGfjGPtB_XEVQBbINOjmX0jJVDLo8ZkioOCWT0gvS4ZtF4y-CrMs5Gz_whqqRvhczR89XLQ20sH2Yix-CrVD_SWUFJh_OyEP62vgzMHP-qjkkuyhqUCQzsS1PHVW7/s1600-h/DSCN0704.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy9bL7jpwi_xQ4b4EXGfjGPtB_XEVQBbINOjmX0jJVDLo8ZkioOCWT0gvS4ZtF4y-CrMs5Gz_whqqRvhczR89XLQ20sH2Yix-CrVD_SWUFJh_OyEP62vgzMHP-qjkkuyhqUCQzsS1PHVW7/s320/DSCN0704.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444072447953868066" /></a><br /><br />And to add to this story. This is what happened to my shoe at 8 am on Sunday morning. But I said "Oh, no problem, I'll be in a train all day". Little did I know I'd be spending the day walking through the rain, wind, and mud for the next 14 hours.Claire Goes To Deutschlandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07848762058333837770noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3249434072234973409.post-81861178440114743272010-02-17T10:13:00.000-08:002010-02-18T04:09:27.225-08:00KARNEVAL!!!!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6HMtlmUsqIO-ZZnoZh3y-Ub3uswOgn2YDaLO4d5040YpajKwRNRv-aFFhXBE1D_9ASTuDtxa-4wRCkuQkDYIh-Cimw_Q93Vxkg2F7lSwi3eCmyhAOF9VhfXnwckGFttk4wrdiHBoNg6KE/s1600-h/DSCN0684.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6HMtlmUsqIO-ZZnoZh3y-Ub3uswOgn2YDaLO4d5040YpajKwRNRv-aFFhXBE1D_9ASTuDtxa-4wRCkuQkDYIh-Cimw_Q93Vxkg2F7lSwi3eCmyhAOF9VhfXnwckGFttk4wrdiHBoNg6KE/s320/DSCN0684.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439290857575686930" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirn-XoS49sDTNJfM742ENGryyc5xQtdxBXZCKp8WEjlnPHw0xTsFjqj8x6vGdmYCryzqBFaXW6rOtW3GEynDNA_wS3eAdssFLR7syVWiiaVQlH-yo14Asll4uhkgQR4tpURx5QVcvj5Y1O/s1600-h/Rosen+Montag.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 236px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirn-XoS49sDTNJfM742ENGryyc5xQtdxBXZCKp8WEjlnPHw0xTsFjqj8x6vGdmYCryzqBFaXW6rOtW3GEynDNA_wS3eAdssFLR7syVWiiaVQlH-yo14Asll4uhkgQR4tpURx5QVcvj5Y1O/s320/Rosen+Montag.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439290849658119730" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfYiqdn5X97IgP7aoNhqY6L75TseciZGfCK8craR_U9oPWOd2ZYxqNuIsie5Vp6tBaP0IOPH-isSCaAfUWPXeNLJU3dqjASmXbHyWsgMCpbE0JqPp_xcOUnfSGIffmbfqjim_klpCgTgJ4/s1600-h/Parade.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 246px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfYiqdn5X97IgP7aoNhqY6L75TseciZGfCK8craR_U9oPWOd2ZYxqNuIsie5Vp6tBaP0IOPH-isSCaAfUWPXeNLJU3dqjASmXbHyWsgMCpbE0JqPp_xcOUnfSGIffmbfqjim_klpCgTgJ4/s320/Parade.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439290846471089906" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVkqKPjInAF2VknEgUo6QpDKXeUS5DMfprG_QahnmoatbQns0kyzmvoEY8QCmufqW34SqY2BCZFbNHy6r_fBYFW5DMiQZ41CGJcAjgFa34gfAKpvTv0cXeFaWjpiCTSKlIWKHaeXxXfr0b/s1600-h/Group1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVkqKPjInAF2VknEgUo6QpDKXeUS5DMfprG_QahnmoatbQns0kyzmvoEY8QCmufqW34SqY2BCZFbNHy6r_fBYFW5DMiQZ41CGJcAjgFa34gfAKpvTv0cXeFaWjpiCTSKlIWKHaeXxXfr0b/s320/Group1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439290841236881922" /></a><br />Yes, I thought I'd actually be enthusiastic in a title for once. And indeed I am quiet enthusiastic about the experience I just went through. I went to the city of Koeln for Karneval (Carnival). Koeln is the biggest city in Germany for the celebration which gets to crazyness through the Friday-Tuesday before Ash Wednesday. Thereby, I came from Friday to Tuesday. <br /><br />Now, I hate blogs that tell you details about what you did day to day, but for this entry I feel its appropriate. I left Friday after school (meaning I had to bring my duffle bag to school which was a pain in the ass) and about halfway through my 4 hour journey to Koeln, they announced over the loudspeaker that anyone going to Koeln had to get off and there would be another train for us. I was so confused that I asked the woman in front of me for clarification, and wouldn't you know if she was Scottish? We thereby caught the next train together and realized our second train would get us there an hour later. My friends were waiting for me and had all already arrived in Koeln. I got into the Hauptbahnhof and it was PACKED and every single person was in costume. Jumping onto the bandwagon, I put on my flapper costume and joined my friends. <br /><br />We spent the night dancing at a salsa bar and all around having fun with other exchange students ranging from America, to Argentina, to Latvia. And there were only two slight downpoints to my first night. First off, being myself, I naturally absolutely whipped out on the ice outside the bar--practically cracking a kneecap. God forbid I be at all graceful at any point of my life. Second downpoint, I got asked to dance by a South American guy at the bar. EPIC FAIL. But, if I'm to be fair, I always warn people when they ask to dance with me, my first answer being "I can't dance". Literally, every guy has answered back "...at all?". No, not at all. But yet they insist on me proving it. So yeah. Other than that, it was a fabulous night to start the experience, and we returned home around 3 am. <br /><br />Saturday was a sort of...non Karneval day for us. We went to a local parade, in which I underdressed and was therefore miserable. We then went back to our host (Marios from USA) along with two other Americans (Tess and Ian) and Elina from Latvia. Through much teamwork we made curry...or what we called "Creation" which was delicious, watched Harry Potter and the Olympics, and ate candy thrown to us from the parade. Not the hard partying expected of a Saturday night of Karneval, but I found it quiet enjoyable. <br /><br />Sunday was the highlight of my Karneval experience. We went to an AFS party in the early afternoon that was horrible but provided free food...hehe. Then we went into the city. It hit dark, and under the famous Koelner Dome there were African drummers (dressed as sailors?) and a huge group of people dancing to their beats. So naturally, Tess and I joined them. Unfortunately, Ian went home that day but after getting him on his train, we all went out to a really large "typisch Deutsch" bar with tons of people in costume. We danced to not so great music, but mostly entertained ourselves by befriending Germans. At one point there was a guy dressed as a New Yorks Giant football player, and for some reason I decided that gave me perfect reasons to go sit with him and talk. And guess what? HE WAS A NEW YORK GIANTS FOOTBALL PLAYER. What?! Nuts the people you meet in random places. After the bar we went to a Cuban club because it had great music and no entrance fee (all clubs and bars in Germany have an entrance fee from 5-20 euros). The club ended up being a bit boring and in a sudden craving we all went for curry and danced in the restaurant while waiting for food. We went home and I hit the bed incredibly hard.<br /><br />Monday is known as the biggest day of Karneval, here in Germany its called Rosen Montag. We went to a huge parade in the middle of the city that had over 116 wagons. It took around 3 hours in the freezing cold and getting hit in the face with candy thrown by parade participants who didn't look when they threw. But the costumes were amazing and I'm glad I went. Then we went to (surprising) a BAR! But it had good music and was more for dancing. Unfortunately, I wasn't feeling well and was so not in the mood to dance. Throughout the day I just got worst and worst, and by the time we were at a cafe at 8 pm I turned to Marios and just said "take me home". And thank God I did, as it progressively got worst to the point I didn't sleep a wink Monday night. I went home sick on Tuesday. And didn't go to school Wednesday. Not the perfect ending to my trip, but I'm still absolutely amazed at how much fun I had and am so glad I went.Claire Goes To Deutschlandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07848762058333837770noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3249434072234973409.post-37034718877628433882010-02-09T07:34:00.001-08:002010-02-09T07:52:49.760-08:00Spain Photos Anyone?I apologize for the suckness of my pictures. I don't particularly enjoy taking photos nor am I artistic enough to shoot valuable ones. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGSI_oDHOXri_cLKamsbTi6Yi7Hbm1kc0-xsztQAnkREZeR_telkZGpdfhZCE7omBEwSQtQp0HGBfqtPRAFotHzc-TOfsroYbJ3T4Sv8x7NVj3067ZcB-v_VU0WrdhSKAGmUu7v8pWdWEp/s1600-h/DSCN0581.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGSI_oDHOXri_cLKamsbTi6Yi7Hbm1kc0-xsztQAnkREZeR_telkZGpdfhZCE7omBEwSQtQp0HGBfqtPRAFotHzc-TOfsroYbJ3T4Sv8x7NVj3067ZcB-v_VU0WrdhSKAGmUu7v8pWdWEp/s320/DSCN0581.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436269093418891762" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">They tell me this church in Salamanca was built hundreds of years ago. But my question is why there's an astronaut in the carvings?</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4dcDp0vicQmRgUfLnjV-QE7lYe7Htn-0ZEx0G5DA7PcqbdoJoBYiNOUZ2uYiHMWXmdqP_louSzd5qBfBhpzviqOM4YD7T7sKm6l8GHIEaMTqj6_i-ZNu1o15oPZ5b567HLLROQ47wrhvS/s1600-h/DSCN0605.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4dcDp0vicQmRgUfLnjV-QE7lYe7Htn-0ZEx0G5DA7PcqbdoJoBYiNOUZ2uYiHMWXmdqP_louSzd5qBfBhpzviqOM4YD7T7sKm6l8GHIEaMTqj6_i-ZNu1o15oPZ5b567HLLROQ47wrhvS/s320/DSCN0605.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436269085873927618" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrFWR5ReD-oBv0WK4c73YfwwhZXvoL9mCw-JMUhlcWRZ5HXKZ_VYAgNtjXudqBH0WPNOBsR8xhVxgi2ZXdxU5kC_gIUh6byqtQpX2K4YsCT6A3SKgoxGvnbPoxmTkXJL06i1BT2inKV43-/s1600-h/DSCN0602.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrFWR5ReD-oBv0WK4c73YfwwhZXvoL9mCw-JMUhlcWRZ5HXKZ_VYAgNtjXudqBH0WPNOBsR8xhVxgi2ZXdxU5kC_gIUh6byqtQpX2K4YsCT6A3SKgoxGvnbPoxmTkXJL06i1BT2inKV43-/s320/DSCN0602.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436269083017713170" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM1Aw0TlDd3GIsidamXERXOfepdgiE_LA60wjASVMZUyB2dTBJDkeoIaLce5et9qicTz9zGNLupoIg3eSEBmBQ4_GBnqdSPK9SpNHt70nBcR8kZKA6yYRD-oAjUT4BiO9LXcb-gymvi5d3/s1600-h/DSCN0566.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM1Aw0TlDd3GIsidamXERXOfepdgiE_LA60wjASVMZUyB2dTBJDkeoIaLce5et9qicTz9zGNLupoIg3eSEBmBQ4_GBnqdSPK9SpNHt70nBcR8kZKA6yYRD-oAjUT4BiO9LXcb-gymvi5d3/s320/DSCN0566.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436269075422628098" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><br />These are my two friends from Spain. Ana my host (left) and Palloma (right). I did a two month long international camp with Ana a couple Summers ago, and that's how we know one another. </span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgypDqGEZvBXuQqbWwdWH9FcQptHEn02P0IgKtWFVEayaGdz2iQtytNOXVNStZxbRW4wJMGn1kPVnTwes2-LoCwZ52smXfC73YP0EVy5P0i-MsDn3fYuhjLBabe1D9z7Hut2rOzycvgIQy8/s1600-h/DSCN0562.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgypDqGEZvBXuQqbWwdWH9FcQptHEn02P0IgKtWFVEayaGdz2iQtytNOXVNStZxbRW4wJMGn1kPVnTwes2-LoCwZ52smXfC73YP0EVy5P0i-MsDn3fYuhjLBabe1D9z7Hut2rOzycvgIQy8/s320/DSCN0562.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436269067303455346" /></a>Claire Goes To Deutschlandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07848762058333837770noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3249434072234973409.post-52039657211756585382010-02-03T05:04:00.000-08:002010-02-06T03:04:53.036-08:00Falling In LoveYes, I fell in love this month. How typical..exchange year...<em>romance</em>. But who am I to argue? Who is this mystery lover you ask? Well its more like 46 million lovers. I fell in love with the country of <strong>Spain</strong>.<br /><br />Now don´t go rechecking which blog your on, indeed I´m still on my exchange year in Germany. But a couple months ago my host family told me that during Winter Vacation they were going on a ski trip. They "kindly" told me they had no room in the car for me, and thereby I´d had to find someplace to stay for the break. At first I was a bit sad for being left out of a family trip, but I did understand that they had planned this trip before they took me in and that I fucking hate skiing. So I emailed a friend of mine who lives in Spain and asked if I could stay with her during my break, and that´s where my story begins. <br /><br />I flew into Spain on the Thursday night before break began. I realized everyone on my plane was Spanish and quickly destroyed conversation with the guy next to me when he stopped midsentence after seeing I was reading a book in German. When I left Berlin it was -11 degrees and pouring snow. When I arrived in Madrid it was 12 degrees and balmy. <strong>Tip for travel: Never bring gloves, scarves, or anything you´d ever wear in Berlin on a trip to Spain, <em>even in Winter</em>.</strong> I was greeted at the gate by my friend Ana and her father. I got a kiss on both cheeks and had to tell them I wasn´t hungry 10 million times before they believed me (I had bought like a family sized bag of gummi bears for the plane ride, and actually felt quiet sick by then). I caught up on conversation with Ana on the 3 hour ride to Caceres and let the Spanishness start to sink in.<br /><br />Oh right, that <em>little</em> detail I forgot to mention. I speak about 10 words of Spanish. And my list of words isn´t exactly...cohesive. <strong>Ajo</strong>= garlic. <strong>Maladie</strong>= illness. I know the numbers <strong>1-6</strong>. <strong>Casa</strong>=house. <strong>Tranquile</strong>= calm down. Yes, for someone with a Cuban step Mom I sure don´t show it. Even better was the fact that Anas parents literally don´t speak a word of English. And this would be fine if Ana was there protecting my pride 24/7, but Ana had school and studying. She thereby awkwardly left me with her parents and my 10 words to survive. For a bit I felt total deja vu, as if I was returning to my first week in Germany. Lots of awkward smiles, hand gestures, and ¨no comprendo¨´s. But after 5 months as an exchange student, I find that awkwardness slides right off of me. Too many awkward moments this year has left me numb to them.<br /><br />So Anas parents took me around town for hours and hours. We explored their city, which is absolutely beautiful. There are castles around every corner and torch lit streets. Theres tons of small Catholic churches which despite their size, are impeccably built. We also visited Santamanca, a college town where Anas siblings study. Her siblings were hilarious, trying out their English on me. Her brother would randomly turn to me and say things like, ¨You like Al Pacino?¨. I tried tons of Spanish food, which very rarely disappointed and tried to soak up as much of this culture as possible. <br /><br />You see, Spain gave me what I´ve been searching for in Germany; a full, rich, distinct culture. In Spain they knew their history, ate Spanish food, listened to Spanish music, danced Spanish dances, and watched Spanish TV. They don´t try to be anyone else. Additionally, every Spaniard I met had a distinct personality, and one they definitely werent affraid to show. Unfortunately and unexpectadely, I got one of my worst bouts of homesickness during my time in Spain. I think its because all my stories of Spain before this came from my step Mom and I always imagined it as a place I would one day explore and discover with my parents by my side. I then got legit sick about halfway through my stay, due to the drinking water which I was warned contained bleach. Ana said they drink it cause their used to it, but it caused me to have headaches and a weasy stumach. Should have stuck to juice...<br /><br />At the end of my trip here I realize how amazing it is that by a 3 hour plane ride I could end up in a totally different culture (something that in America would wind me up in say, Florida). The contrast between Germany and Spain is quiet shocking, but perhaps that made my trip all the more educational. <br /><br />In 6 days I´ll have been here 5 months.When you start the journey you convince yourself that a year away is only that, a year. A small increment of time in the big scheme of things. But I find myself at the current moment in the ¨Wednesday Phase¨ as I like to call it. I´m right in the middle, looking at what I´ve done so far and also to the future. I´d like to finally join some extra curriculars such as a chorus and maybe art lessons or yoga. Cause time goes slow when you have time to sit and think here.<br /><br />I shall post pictures once I return to German-land =DClaire Goes To Deutschlandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07848762058333837770noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3249434072234973409.post-55265912557532050522010-01-22T08:27:00.000-08:002010-01-23T23:59:03.189-08:00Don't Tiptoe Around My Feelings Or Anything<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxSadrsHBVkD-3kyM5c_KZVjX1Vga3QYLSjFhyphenhyphen7s-PQd9pce-p9dJUVcOMlglT3TWFe4pW34-BmKsBcRAKHX7Dvu-Jrf6E3ZVD43YvY5Sq1iXsMEgUpzAhBA6g1W_Fip_yNH38o9FoQC-X/s1600-h/DSCN0512.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxSadrsHBVkD-3kyM5c_KZVjX1Vga3QYLSjFhyphenhyphen7s-PQd9pce-p9dJUVcOMlglT3TWFe4pW34-BmKsBcRAKHX7Dvu-Jrf6E3ZVD43YvY5Sq1iXsMEgUpzAhBA6g1W_Fip_yNH38o9FoQC-X/s320/DSCN0512.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429609287915415266" /></a><br />Now that I'm about halfway through my experience here, I'm past my initial impressions of the country and beginning to feel fairly solid in my observations on Germany. There's definitely a lot of untrue stereotypes Germany's faces with. Its certain to me that Germany's history is the biggest influencing factor in their mindset on life. Such as in my country, patriotism beams even in the darkest of corners and many are oblivious to our unpopularity around the world. Here, they know what their history has done to their reputation. Unless your at the capital, you won't find a German flag displayed. They are taught every year the history of their countries wars and its ramifications. My cousin Fiona (from Germany) once told me, "We have to be careful, as to not draw attention to our country again". <br /><br />But in a recent dinner conversation, an interesting point was brought up regarding American-German relations. America is in a war in the Middle East. Germany said from the very beginning that they will not join Americas <span style="font-style:italic;">"fight"</span>. For the current generation, they agree with this decision as its an unneeded war. But for the generation of our grandparents, those that lived through the war...well, their pretty furious. They attribute the fact that Germany is not currently under Russian occupation to the Americans helping them out in WWII. <span style="font-style:italic;">How could we not help them after all they did for us?</span> They ask. <br /><br />Now one thing most will hear about the Germans, along with a horde of absolute bullshit such as "everyone speaks English there", is that the Germans are both <span style="font-weight:bold;">cold</span> and <span style="font-weight:bold;">blunt</span>. Now this may be made as a joke in America, but its not here, and its <span style="font-style:italic;">no</span> exaggeration. Germans are indeed not people who strike up conversations with strangers or who will flash you a friendly smile passing on the street. I think it puts it somewhat into perspective that German language has two forms of the word "you", one for friends and one for everyone else. This is how I would put it; <span style="font-weight:bold;">Germans can tell you everything while telling you nothing at all.</span> They just don't let you in. Added to this is a bluntness that during my first month here I thought didn't exist, but in fact I just couldn't understand what was being said to me. Now that I consider myself fluent, I've been SHOCKED by what Germans tell each other. I, personally, have been told things that would be considered completely rude in America. Take this conversation during a nice dinner with my host family:<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Grandma:</span> "Claire, how much do you weigh?" (keep in mind we are currently eating dinner)<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Claire:</span> "No idea"<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Grandma:</span> "Don't you weigh yourself when you go into the bathroom?"<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Claire:</span> "No. I don't think weights important if I feel healthy"<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Grandma:</span> "Well your definitely heavier than your sister."<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Claire:</span> "..."<br /><br />Similarly, in school, grades are announced in front of the whole class, so <span style="font-style:italic;">everyone's</span> aware of your success' and failures. I've heard teachers comment to the class on a students acne or been told by my French teacher that the American accent is the ugliest of them all. Even students say these things to each other. Take a girl in my class Jeanette who sat directly across from me and said this:<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Jeanette:</span> "I hate people who have a lot of piercings" <br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Claire:</span> *Points to the total of 8 piercings on her ears*<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Jeanette:</span> "Yeah I know. I find them really ugly"<br /><br />But this is the thing, Germany has given me a tougher skin. You realize that they don't say it out of unkindness or because they are trying to upset you. Then again, I also wouldn't say they say these things out of the kindness of their heart either. Instead, I like to think that this country simply lacks a verbal filter. They aren't mean people, but it takes a lot to crack open the hard shell. On the same page I love my schoolmates and family, but sometimes I would kill for a good smile beamed at me here in Germany (or as another exchange student once called it "The Land of Frowns")<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Oh right, and on a totally non-important level, my host sister got a baby turtle as a surprise 18th birthday present. Cool gift...I guess? I can't decided whether its cute or ugly, nor is that distinction high on my list of priorities. Just thought I'd mention that mind blowing event in my household. I also featured a picture in this entry (despite the fact it holds no significance and I took it a month ago and its not even from my city) in a vain hope that perhaps the AFS blog will actually feature me as they only seem to feature blogs with pictures. HAPPY NOW AFS?!!</span>Claire Goes To Deutschlandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07848762058333837770noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3249434072234973409.post-58125470737109298032010-01-08T12:37:00.000-08:002010-01-08T13:06:00.915-08:00Sisterhood and FriendshipAs a little bit of background, in my life back home, I have three older brothers. My first host family I had an older brother, staying with the Neubauers I had 2 older brothers, and then BAM I got two sisters. I would have liked to have a picture of my face when I was told "Your new host family has two sisters". It must have been such a mix of confusion, surprise, and fear. "What..do...I do...with...two sisters?". I don't know anything about being a sister, I thought. I'm used to older brothers. Protective, loving but not to the point they'd ever talk about it, calm. What would sisterhood bring after 16 years of brothers?<br /><br />But the first day, we bonded instantly. We danced in the kitchen, we exchanged jokes, we put on our underpants over our clothes. I knew they were perfect. And it's been a couple months here with them, and I feel just as strongly. Although my sisters are similarly warm and inclusive, they both contribute two totally different things to the table. My older sister is mature, takes me to parties, lets me borrow her clothes and translate homework. My younger sister is silly, always up for a laugh and enjoys randomly turning to strangers and snorting like a pig in their face. Depending on my mood, I can hang out with a sister who fits it, if not both. <br /><br />Moreover, I am gradually learning how to be a sister, which let me say, is quiet different and sometimes straining for me. It's a lot more emotional. I'm expected to sympathize as well as empathize and be a very good listener. It was strange at first to get used to my sisters showing up in my room at random times just to chat about boy problems or recent school drama (in which I have no clue who they're talking about but act like I do). Having my clothes and jewelry borrowed is now the norm, and hearing/getting into petty arguments at meals is also quite typical of this families sisterhood. Also changed is that I am now the middle child, a hard position which made me appreciate my brother Colin a lot more. It means I have to learn how to be an older sister, which is both difficult and rewarding all the same. I defend my younger sister when she's being picked on, and many times I've been her shoulder to cry on. I like it, its different, but in such a good way that I can't imagine ever not being placed in this family. <br /><br />And now to school. Although I went through my schedule, I didn't get to share about the kids in my school. I have to start with this sentence---I LOVE MY SCHOOLMATES. Literally, they are the best and make me look forward to school. They are so real, and fun, and don't treat me like an exchange student. They realize I'm smart behind my sometimes crappy German (also known as: morning German), and correct my German in such a way that I know in my heart they just want to help me (as opposed to the jerks who correct your German only to make themselves feel smarter and give you a look like your the dirt of the earth). They realize by now that I do the same things they do, just in another country. Were all procrastinators, lazy, go on the computer, and hate school and French class. Now that I've been a few months in, I've started being invited out with school friends and am comfortable going up to any of them for questions. Its just...nice, and I wanted to share that. It's a very happy part of my life here, and I'm very lucky to have such a good school and home life (corny but I don't really give a...)<br /><br />I'm hoping this entry slightly made up for my last one, in which I'm still not sure why I posted it. I figure perhaps I'll stop posting so often after this one. ALSO I've been thinking of how people who are on semester programs are going home this month, and I seriously can <span style="font-style:italic;">feel</span> their sadness right now. I can't imagine going home now, or in the next month, its like everything's finally starting to click and it would devastate me to have to leave it.Claire Goes To Deutschlandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07848762058333837770noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3249434072234973409.post-75500652140153885942010-01-05T06:42:00.000-08:002010-01-05T07:10:47.088-08:00Is it raining in here?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMopd_dH1PRDJxqnMPvni5bT61tft-XNnRYZmK6v-2aQ1pWUFJ689UrR9H-Y6xoWZ6CquIShv7bRvOapOcxL7yS-64zl0JTbpUqOyqkgrV-EhdG9Hw0K1q6H4ClX36Fo-cz8cqoUq8cGYW/s1600-h/DSCN0524.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMopd_dH1PRDJxqnMPvni5bT61tft-XNnRYZmK6v-2aQ1pWUFJ689UrR9H-Y6xoWZ6CquIShv7bRvOapOcxL7yS-64zl0JTbpUqOyqkgrV-EhdG9Hw0K1q6H4ClX36Fo-cz8cqoUq8cGYW/s320/DSCN0524.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423273401690340258" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSQya9kEX-spHSJ9uY_QEUYm9xyl_7OwxIumPhbYttvdJIQwLgm_RM24yEQptxF5raDoLhpKCeCOT_GyDq_QO25Y8EsQnK0XjkZNfqX__cDLvTeWMmCe1v3t2_VqNlOfxiAyzQmszHe9n0/s1600-h/DSCN0498.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSQya9kEX-spHSJ9uY_QEUYm9xyl_7OwxIumPhbYttvdJIQwLgm_RM24yEQptxF5raDoLhpKCeCOT_GyDq_QO25Y8EsQnK0XjkZNfqX__cDLvTeWMmCe1v3t2_VqNlOfxiAyzQmszHe9n0/s320/DSCN0498.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423273397212585778" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjczmxnof74baaMymB97Rg6QQWLeM5-5pI_UDdimbGcrkV3u4Hx1iax9n1bhY0JJiRaIK1-YkJbyGzJ_qie2SpT8NcsGYWImpoUny5-u7U5aa-I57gL_HFpoV2owC1SkaJp8V8z-qkq-uZ8/s1600-h/DSCN0499.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjczmxnof74baaMymB97Rg6QQWLeM5-5pI_UDdimbGcrkV3u4Hx1iax9n1bhY0JJiRaIK1-YkJbyGzJ_qie2SpT8NcsGYWImpoUny5-u7U5aa-I57gL_HFpoV2owC1SkaJp8V8z-qkq-uZ8/s320/DSCN0499.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423273389396804802" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghene4NpUx1Y8gcerRIkSPrmSNAAWobUP_y4xlHUwWaeFbXsBGj6thtC565ZIQU0NGr4fTzLCFHJWfqdNa1-EEqpvs_DsLigS1O76O3RpHcnOG3hnmXao0bO5rXzBJU7eZeGMGQzwUlTtl/s1600-h/DSCN0520.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghene4NpUx1Y8gcerRIkSPrmSNAAWobUP_y4xlHUwWaeFbXsBGj6thtC565ZIQU0NGr4fTzLCFHJWfqdNa1-EEqpvs_DsLigS1O76O3RpHcnOG3hnmXao0bO5rXzBJU7eZeGMGQzwUlTtl/s320/DSCN0520.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423273381009210802" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh50oBparMFnAB0Maw4uZJYNPSe2odVvf2RQ1hxrPtCfuF5uhVg5HviME8XSa1H3EvHW5WW4mpNIp3GcjH3_NrrkvIHVbcNU7c7onLazes8TifVQnDbxsqkUILCKpKHUy2nmcPOKX_GnqJg/s1600-h/DSCN0507.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh50oBparMFnAB0Maw4uZJYNPSe2odVvf2RQ1hxrPtCfuF5uhVg5HviME8XSa1H3EvHW5WW4mpNIp3GcjH3_NrrkvIHVbcNU7c7onLazes8TifVQnDbxsqkUILCKpKHUy2nmcPOKX_GnqJg/s320/DSCN0507.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423273379328500338" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Embarrassing Story of the Day:</span><br />Like any typical school day, I went home by bus. Unfortunately, what wasn't typical was the fact that my bus today was only one story as opposed to my usual double Decker. This caused a large amount of people to be squeezed into one small space, and for me to (of course) end up standing, as there were no seats left. Halfway through the ride, tired of smelling armpit being so close to strangers, I spotted an open seat. Yes! I thought. How totally inconspicuous that all these people are standing and they are leaving one seat open. Thereby I headed for the seat, sat down, and got a bulgy eyed look from the girl across from me. What? I thought. Until I felt the sensation of liquid on my pants. Then on my arms, then saw water on my book bag. I looked up just in time to see the heater on the top of the bus POUR water all over me to the amusement of the whole bus. Worst part was that I had no choice but to sit there for another 6 or so stops until my street. I performed the walk of shame getting off the bus, suffering the whole way from wet-ass-syndrome, worsened by the -4 degree weather. Happy Tuesday!<br /><br />Well, hooray for the New Year! Mine was 6 hours before yours, which is particularly weird to think about. I celebrated in Koeln with two very good exchange student friends of mine as well as many other people at a house party. The night passed by fast, lots of drama and excitement, mistakes and things. A typical new years, which always seems to invite the unexpected. I have mixed feelings about the night, but wont give details. But I will be eternally grateful for Matt Knoth and Marios being there, who would make any night a very good one.<br /><br />I don't have terribly much to say. Though I suppose I will admit that I feel like I didn't have a Christmas due to my lack of family. Although my Christmas with my host family was lovely, it makes one sad knowing your family back home is celebrating without you as you almost expect them to wait until you return. But the world doesn't stop while your away, one of life's hard realizations. <br /><br />So I decided to just post pictures, as I put all my other ideas into another entry, in which I'm still pondering over, wondering if it came out right.Claire Goes To Deutschlandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07848762058333837770noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3249434072234973409.post-5530733062172240622009-12-20T13:35:00.001-08:002009-12-21T11:18:43.425-08:00To Be an AmericanSomehow when preparing to come to Germany, I failed to realize that people would look at me...well, as my country. It's hard to explain, but many times I feel simple questions I answer are taken as what my country does, and not individually what I prefer. This being said, I feel as if there is quiet a difference being an American exchange student as opposed to any other country (that came out sounding really egotistic). My country produces an enormous amount of media-from movies, to books, to news, to songs. We also speak the world language as our mother tongue. <span style="font-weight:bold;">And here's where my confusion lies:</span><br /><span style="font-style:italic;"><br />Generally,</span> the people I've met have assumed that they already know my culture. What frustrates me is that the films you watch are exactly that : a story. They aren't fair representations of real life. We don't all live in NYC or LA, I don't own my own car, I don't wear designer clothes every day, I don't live in a mansion. I similarly don't personally know any celebrities. But here's where I am lacking. See, I obviously always want to share that that view of America is not the typical life of 95% of Americans, but then I'm always asked, "Then tell us what is typical American"...what? I'm caught. Because the thing is, there is absolutely no such thing, and it took me until getting here to realize it. We are all from different backgrounds, we have different ancestry, every state has a distinctly different mindset/culture. So how do I ever say what's typical? My outcome of this whole problem: I can't. It puts an awkward stamp on a conversation, when they are expecting me to clarify what my cultures really like, but now I realize I just have to answer that there's nothing typical. We are America. Every single one of us is different. It's <span style="font-style:italic;">just</span> the way it is. <br /><br />I've also had to come to the realization that the horrible stereotypes of my country are not going to go away by me being angry inside. Lets just say that it's not rare that someone full-out insults my country. When I'm angry, I think about the hypocrisy; that you insult everything my country does and yet you watch our films, listen to our music, read our books etc. etc. When I look at it calmly, I realize that I just have to be the best representation of America that I can be. Some of my most fulfilling moments here have been those when I have changed, even in a small amount, peoples view on Americans. Whether it be from my ability to speak German, the fact I'm not fat, or getting high grades in Math- these things have been ones where teens have gone, "Perhaps their different". I only hope that someday Americans don't have so many insulting stereotypes to beat. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">In my time here, I've also managed to find out small insider things about Germany that I know I would <span style="font-style:italic;">never</span> read in a textbook. </span><br /><br />1. <span style="font-weight:bold;">Army or Community Service?</span> Every male, I believe once graduated from high school, has to either do a year in the army or a year of community service. This depends on what health your in. If there's anything hindering your ability in the army, you are given community service. Women don't have to do this. When I asked why, it was simply replied that "that's the way it is".<br /><br />2. <span style="font-weight:bold;">Teen Parents.</span> During the days of the DDR, and I actually believe still, for every kid you have you were given 250 Euros a month. Great, takes care of the kid, right?! No. Instead, teens had kids so that they could drop out of school and not have to work. Then their kids did the same. This then became normal, at least in East Germany. To this day, kids have kids. Those kids are left to fend for themselves as their parents are too young to know what to do with them. When I still lived in Forst, we lived across the street from the town supermarket. The kids of young parents were always together outside of it, drinking alcohol, breaking bottles against our store window. Once, when walking into the supermarket, I saw a kid who looked no older than 8 smoking with his dad who looked College-aged. Though Germans in general seem to have kids younger (my host parents are about 45, my old host mom was 39), in the former East Germany it's sort of a big problem.<br /><br />3. <span style="font-weight:bold;">East Germany.</span> Most assume that the two sides were re-united after the fall of the Berlin wall. Not so. There is a HUGE difference between east and west Germany, and I really mean huge. When taking the train out of Berlin, into East Germany, it looks like two different worlds. East Germany is gray. All the old, cracking, graffited DDR buildings with broken windows are still there, and gone unused. There's a gigantic amount of unemployment ( anytime I came home from school there would be tons of people shopping or hanging around on any given day). And also, the mindset is much different. It's always about "the good old days of the DDR". People threw parties themed on the DDR. And this confused me until I talked to a West German about it. This is what they told me, " You see, when the DDR was around, everyone had jobs, everyone had great education, everyone was taken care of, even if they were closed off. When the wall fell, they lost everything. They weren't able to get back up when they had been relying on the DDR giving them everything for so long" and that answer finally cleared it all up. <br /><br />4. <span style="font-weight:bold;">Drivers License.</span> I hear these words every day. And there's a very good reason as to why. For one thing, a German teen has to wait until the age of 18 to get their drivers license. But more importantly, the cost of achieving this is absolutely outrageous, and they know it. Take for example, my older sister Linda who is almost 18. She has 2 hours of driving school twice a week, if not three times a week. Every set of 2 hours costs 85 Euros. You do this for a year...nough said.<br /><br />5. <span style="font-weight:bold;">Turkish Relations.</span> When coming here, I had heard that the Germany-Turkey relationship was much the same as the America-Mexico relationship- aka the whole "we want them out so they stop taking our jobs" mentality. But I am lucky enough that I am in the capital, we have the largest Turkish population, at least a quarter of my school is Turkish. No one has any problem with them or expects them to leave. I have a feeling this is very different in other areas but Berlins open to anything. What I like best about the Turkish population here, is that I not only learn about the German culture, but the Turkish as well.<br /><br />6. <span style="font-weight:bold;">Arranged Marriage.</span> Never thought I'd run into that in Germany, but indeed its here. Many days we talk about it in English class, about how another girl has been taken out of school and moved back to her home country to get married. It's mostly the girls from Turkey, but yeah, totally new concept for me. Lots of girls don't come back after Summer break, so I hear.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Just thought I'd actually share some of that with you. Let me know of any questions you might want answered!</span>Claire Goes To Deutschlandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07848762058333837770noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3249434072234973409.post-89750360454508974132009-12-01T06:58:00.000-08:002009-12-21T10:09:27.003-08:00Christmas Time in Germany<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6fry9kmuSZoM2vHvIQ6QCeaEE3TJ3erJrrXDvY-uHxJDAaidobGliv1fqLAs1-qAMIAVhclaFIjOzytUv8Iw_exxhfz51jyymWPBcXDi39fbQ1Q-CSrL3p_YEAD0c8lLErBHPj00gQx5D/s1600-h/parade8.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6fry9kmuSZoM2vHvIQ6QCeaEE3TJ3erJrrXDvY-uHxJDAaidobGliv1fqLAs1-qAMIAVhclaFIjOzytUv8Iw_exxhfz51jyymWPBcXDi39fbQ1Q-CSrL3p_YEAD0c8lLErBHPj00gQx5D/s320/parade8.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417752868492398914" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih99qA3GrfhUK6ODQUp-x02Igopksdex0Bs3QcD7c23LX-TdHJFEl_JkeOEIYUTVMkS78iyPpGMthSBT0iK4v5bg7nzdmsLWgHNjx792bDRQOxrk-43ERLT9MzojGtTEYihHQbivVSsaN9/s1600-h/parade2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih99qA3GrfhUK6ODQUp-x02Igopksdex0Bs3QcD7c23LX-TdHJFEl_JkeOEIYUTVMkS78iyPpGMthSBT0iK4v5bg7nzdmsLWgHNjx792bDRQOxrk-43ERLT9MzojGtTEYihHQbivVSsaN9/s320/parade2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417752855962435682" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8OlgGcmoFkqJ4qOSf8LSQx6p513lI0G6liA1KOaf6W6Cn7NlThGifxSnwWyd4xNrhhgZ3HtiB1oljgWcTMxSK82sOjBMl7-nzuWYRsoelN4SaMMEXt3qN1YKFeU_S13-qQyZaDqbg_5No/s1600-h/DSCN0477.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8OlgGcmoFkqJ4qOSf8LSQx6p513lI0G6liA1KOaf6W6Cn7NlThGifxSnwWyd4xNrhhgZ3HtiB1oljgWcTMxSK82sOjBMl7-nzuWYRsoelN4SaMMEXt3qN1YKFeU_S13-qQyZaDqbg_5No/s320/DSCN0477.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417752854649126706" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrxSE0BYA0SygLYj-nOgCbxq6iz9iV-SqH_LCdrZEQQVNGbURKLLyH_VqhMnwBrD3lwQ3OEigAtUXBvSit32WroMQbN5M_6amTaYQ-8hvq1uJXtKyS5SMqkae62ftdnGr9Llq-6c_CGYLa/s1600-h/DSCN0452.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrxSE0BYA0SygLYj-nOgCbxq6iz9iV-SqH_LCdrZEQQVNGbURKLLyH_VqhMnwBrD3lwQ3OEigAtUXBvSit32WroMQbN5M_6amTaYQ-8hvq1uJXtKyS5SMqkae62ftdnGr9Llq-6c_CGYLa/s320/DSCN0452.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417752848391726498" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />Pictures: The first is of an epic battle between America and Finland in Brandenburg. Or as I like to call it- the Brunettes vs. the Blonds. The second is of the American exchange students attempting to reenact a patriotic photo. The third picture is my advents calendar (made by my Host Mom). The 4th is my host sister, Caro, trying to master the art of cotton candy making at a school Weihnachtsmarkt.<br /><br />By the way, I'm posting this on December 16th, so don't look at the date. It lies.<br /><br />Let me start off by saying that Christmas season starts in like September here. But starting the 1st of December it's in full blast. Which is strange for me, because absolutely no one in my school celebrates Christmas because they are either Muslim or Buddhist <span style="font-weight:bold;">(interesting fact: the other day our history teacher took a poll of how many languages were spoken fluently in our class. We came out with 9 languages in our class of 22 people: German, Turkish, French, Afrikaans, Sorbish, Thai, English, Polish, and Russian)</span>. Guess that leaves more Christmas for me!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">ADVENT:</span><br />This word meant nothing to me in America but everyone celebrates it here. I assumed advent just meant the chocolates I eat out of a calendar : D But its actually when you celebrate the 4 Sundays leading up to Christmas. You light a candle for each Sunday and have a nice lunch such as duck. Other than that, I'm not aware of the significance. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">25 DAYS OF CHRISTMAS:</span><br />So I woke up on the first of December. I turned on my light, stumbled to the bathroom, washed my face, walked back. And what the hell? There a GIGANTIC mobile hanging over my bed that I absolutely failed to notice in my first-minutes-awake-grogginess. It has 25 gifts hanging from it just for me. This further proves not to demand any mental activity from Claire in the morning. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">WEIHNACHTSMARKT:</span> These are a gigantic part of xmas in Germany, and they assume that everyone has them. They are set up in town centers, with hundreds of huts selling hand made items. I've gone to three different ones, although I believe theres about 20 just in Berlin. Some are so large that they hold legit rides such as ferris wheels, roller coasters, and much more. I went with other exchange students to the Alexanderplatz one and went on a GIGANTIC chairswing in the middle of Berlin, we could see the whole city from the top and tried ignoring the -1 degree weather.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">St. Nikolais</span>- I spelled this wrong. Whatever. But this is on the 6th of December. You clean your shoes the night of the 5th, and put them outside. Then in the morning you wake up, and they are filled with small gifts and candy delivered from not-your-parents. I, unfortunately, missed this holiday due to the fact I was in Brandenburg for the weekend with AFSers, but magically my shoes were still filled with candy...freaky. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Random Quotes:</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Claire:</span> Alright, goal: not have the guy taking my order talk to me in English.<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Jasmine:</span> Alright, go!<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Claire:</span> " Ein Grande Choco latte bitte"<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Starbucks Man:</span> With cream?<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Claire:</span> Fucking shit.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Claire:</span> I actually need grades in your gym class Frau Butke. <br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Frau B:</span> Oh, well I didn't give you a grade last time cause it was really horrible.<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Claire:</span> Well...thanks. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Grandma:</span> These truffles are very special.<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Host Sister:</span> Whats inside them? Marzipan?<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Grandma:</span> No, it's Irish cream!<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Host Sister:</span> What's that?<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">* everyone turns to me *</span><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Claire:</span> I'm not Irish, by the way. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">English Teacher:</span> In the dictionary, it shows whether its Australian, British, or American English.<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">English Teacher:</span> So Claire, could you please pronounce the british pronunciation of this word for us?<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">* thinks of objecting for a second and then pulls her best accent based only off of what she's heard in Harry Potter*</span><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">English Class:</span> Wow!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Host Sister:</span> What's relish?<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Claire:</span> It's like pickles and salad.<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Random Woman:</span> No, it's like ketchup.<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Claire:</span> Sure. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Math Teacher:</span> Give me real life examples of parabolas<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Kid 1:</span> a tongue.<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Kid 2:</span> a bridge.<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Quiet boy in class:</span> A tampon!!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">So, yeah. I'm spending Christmas break in Stuttgart with my blood aunt, uncle, and cousins. School lets out the 18th and I go back on the 3rd of January. Christmas is actually celebrated on the 24th in Germany, which means my Christmas day (spent on a 6 hour train to Stuttgart) will be sort of...lame, for lack of a better word. They also all put up their trees on the 23rd...crazy amount of work for nothing?! Yes, I think so</span>. <span style="font-weight:bold;">And shortly, things I'll miss from xmas at home:</span><br /><br />1. My father and I gorging ourselves with the "special Christmas cheese"<---this makes it sound like it has pot in it or something, but its just good. <br /><br />2. My place on our couch where I sit every xmas. <br /><br />3. Spanish christmas music mixed with a little Elvis.<br /><br />4. Using my gifts immediately after finishing opening them.<br /><br />5. My father napping on the couch after the excitement of Christmas morning. <br /><br />6. Some exchange of bras as awkward gifts either to me from my older brothers (in size EEE by the way) or from me to my older brothers (in the brightest colors and smallest sizes available) <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Happy Holidays everyone!</span><br /><br />P.S. Thanks Colin for the Christmas card, it made my day : DClaire Goes To Deutschlandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07848762058333837770noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3249434072234973409.post-31806092225842043552009-11-27T06:31:00.000-08:002009-12-07T05:13:53.682-08:00All About School<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXliHMxcQae2a_EKZQCH_CcnXbi_xra2yFdp_ErYuFaLaymwYIo-yZmeK4NW5E_FlLNh7Yr66XCPfrvCE6X4t_QAs80yfjXXg5ZtdoG3LRDUCetd55nLVQstl9tChcugqO3TT-894oyYfy/s1600-h/DSCN0476.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXliHMxcQae2a_EKZQCH_CcnXbi_xra2yFdp_ErYuFaLaymwYIo-yZmeK4NW5E_FlLNh7Yr66XCPfrvCE6X4t_QAs80yfjXXg5ZtdoG3LRDUCetd55nLVQstl9tChcugqO3TT-894oyYfy/s320/DSCN0476.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5412222654289668258" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMk2hRtxvRx-g3uBKq-0nJnTK3uh3IZyIm5GWQEtKh4sbkIEwDB5-vEf7GxHfJSEw6hlcMFvq1DNbBtnxfqawm3qntH90nbIA2zLUp805kcI1sig_wWn_lonfpsInquw4UBaP1DSkrLsCY/s1600-h/DSCN0470.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMk2hRtxvRx-g3uBKq-0nJnTK3uh3IZyIm5GWQEtKh4sbkIEwDB5-vEf7GxHfJSEw6hlcMFvq1DNbBtnxfqawm3qntH90nbIA2zLUp805kcI1sig_wWn_lonfpsInquw4UBaP1DSkrLsCY/s320/DSCN0470.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5412222652028604226" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBPdQw80htCK4OXMYFAVMMcgVGj51DiqWLA2WaPQOj4yr_F7ZcQ_C0yyxuhZdfyxKRXPGQSQDb_5oi-lmQuhLcEls1lSBH0IQXq6WRUPHt2hZje8F32wznfSR7e5sVODHKt4Kw4T8JTNQ6/s1600-h/DSCN0465.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBPdQw80htCK4OXMYFAVMMcgVGj51DiqWLA2WaPQOj4yr_F7ZcQ_C0yyxuhZdfyxKRXPGQSQDb_5oi-lmQuhLcEls1lSBH0IQXq6WRUPHt2hZje8F32wznfSR7e5sVODHKt4Kw4T8JTNQ6/s320/DSCN0465.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5412222648234386418" /></a><br /><br />I realized on a skype call with the brother and Dad that I've completely failed to say much of anything about school here in Germany (Sorry guys, I have selective memory!). Therefore, I shall explain what I think of school but firstly, here's why my school might differ from others:<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">- It's an oberschule, not a gymnasium (please don't ask me what this is)<br />- It's in Berlin<br />- Everyone in my school is foreign (exaggeration but I don't care)<br />- I thought I had more reasons, but I'm drawing a blank. So yeah</span><br /><br />Every period (Stunde) in school is 45 minutes. After every two periods there's a 20 minute break. That being said, here's my mighty fine schedule:<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Monday:</span><br />1. No class, thereby I sleep in another hour.<br />2. English<br />3. French<br />4. French<br />5. History<br />6. History<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><br />Tuesday: </span><br />1. AP English (its actually called Profile Englisch or Englischleistlingscoarse)but for your sake I'll call it AP cause its the same deal)<br />2. AP English<br />3. Music<br />4. Music<br />5. French<br />6. Physics <br />7. Physics<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Wednesday: </span>(aka Death Day- possibly the worst combination of classes possible)<br />1. AP Bio (God heard me all those times I thanked him for letting me be done with Bio last year and decided I deserved one more year of my least favorite class ever- OH and to top it off, he made it in <span style="font-style:italic;">German</span>! Fabulous)<br />2. AP Bio<br />3. German<br />4. German<br />5. Math<br />6. History<br />7. Gym<br />8. Gym<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Thursday: </span><br />1. Biology<br />2. Biology<br />3. Math<br />4. Math<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Friday:</span><br />1. English<br />2. English<br />3. Chemistry<br />4. Chemistry<br />5. German<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Explanation.</span> In German schools you have to pick two Leistlingscoarses/ AP classes. For those classes, you take part in the basic level of the coarse and then have extra classes in that subject that are harder. Thereby, I take part in regular Biology and English and then go to harder classes as extra. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Now I'll explain my subjects:</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">English (Basic):</span> My teacher claims she speaks with a British accent, but I'll be damned if I ever hear a brit speak anything like her. Truth is, she just can't speak English very well. If it's puts it into perspective, she's also my gym teacher. She told me my grammar isn't perfect, but she said "more worster" so I let it slide.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">French:</span> Why am I taking French? Last time I checked I have enough trouble with German. This subject goes along the lines of Biology. A class I hated, voiced it, and now am being punished for trashing its reputation by having to take it again. The teacher gave up on my French after two days of me responding only with "I don't speak French"--glad I remember that phrase! But I'm trying to learn it again and take part in class.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">History:</span> This class actually isn't that terrible. I mostly sit there translating, but the teachers really chill and young. I think he get's that these are words I'd obviously be clueless on. He's even letting me do my projects in English. I learn a lot of useful vocabulary through translating history worksheets. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">AP English:</span> Half the kids in this class I am curious as to why they are in there. They never talk and seem to hate the class. Then again, I suppose thats like me in Biology. But yeah, the teacher has a lot better English here. We read a book called Arranged Marriage. I don't talk at all in this class cause I get a face from my teacher every time I talk, I believe it's cause I slur my words and don't have a British accent ( Sidenote: Not only does everyone think I'm an au pair, but apparently I am from England too? Cool? yes I think so)<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Music:</span> This class is do-able but the kids in the back of the class are so annoying it makes me want to stick pencils in my eye sockets. I get my neighbor to help explain things and I'm hoping to at some point take the tests along with the other kids. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Physics:</span> The teacher refuses to admit I am in his class, which suits me just fine. He won't put me on his rollcall and when the girls go, 'yeah and claire's here" he ignores them. Thank you. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">AP Biology:</span> Hello least favorite class ever. Worst part is that the teacher thinks I have fun translating (do you know how much I want to burn my bloody German-English dictionary in a bon fire?) so she's always asking me what the words for stuff are in English. But, uhm did you learn the word for nucleotide, catabolic, plastid, or anaerobic in your German 2 class? No, pretty fucking sure you didn't. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">German:</span> Hate to say but this class is pretty pointless. I've become a master doodler due to this class alone. Reading German Shakespear aloud in this class knocked out, shot, killed, and ate my confidence. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Math:</span> I own this math class. The teachers really tough but I like him cause he realizes I can understand this stuff with a little translating so he actually grades me and makes me do the homework and stuff. It's nice not feeling like a total idiot in at least one class. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Chemistry:</span> The teachers definitely not my favorite, but the other day she called on me and i knew the answer. 10,000 points for Claire's ego.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Differences Between American School and German School:</span><br /><br />- Teachers just don't show up, and then you don't have class. There's no such thing as substitutes. <br />- Homework 99% of the time isn't checked and is absolutely never handed in<br />- This being said, work done in class is graded very often and you are put on the spot in class all the time<br />- You can talk while the teachers talking and they don't get mad, they just keep talking. <br />- Failing a test is more common (perhaps thats just my school)<br />- Tests usually aren't announced<br />- You have a couple (maybe 4 or so) major tests in a subject a year called Klausurs<br />- There's no government transportation to school<br />- You are with the same 16 or so people for every single class<br /><br />So yeah. That was really boring to write but I guess I can't ignore the fact I go to school here forever. It's not that bad, it's just frustrating not being able to understand yet being expected to. It's especially stressful due to the fact that I am a junior and thereby need grades this year. <br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><br />And for something a little more not sucky, here's some useful German vocabulary!</span><br /><br />1. <span style="font-weight:bold;">Milchboobie</span>- Directly translates into "milk boob" meaning a man who looks like a little kid or someone who looks like they still suck from... yeah.<br /><br />2. <span style="font-weight:bold;">Guile</span>- Directly translates to "horny" but is used to say somethings really cool.<br /><br />3. <span style="font-weight:bold;">F-k-k-</span> Doing something nude, for example "I went f-k-k for my Grandmas 80th birthday party"Claire Goes To Deutschlandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07848762058333837770noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3249434072234973409.post-1062727954072200472009-11-16T08:45:00.000-08:002009-11-24T11:33:36.320-08:00I'm Not a Freaking Au Pair!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmMBpyDT_szz20Q-66BqAY5pQmp744lSczOd8HP2hHgRh0TAjIc_UxElKzEckIic9jc3gtx2s8yuBvTeSYsm0lgnt3Bawi-Z-co-BhqK4gnjCdjBmIxMphyphenhyphenk5MY0AJ_1jaq47kiYPZbM95/s1600/DSCN0398.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmMBpyDT_szz20Q-66BqAY5pQmp744lSczOd8HP2hHgRh0TAjIc_UxElKzEckIic9jc3gtx2s8yuBvTeSYsm0lgnt3Bawi-Z-co-BhqK4gnjCdjBmIxMphyphenhyphenk5MY0AJ_1jaq47kiYPZbM95/s320/DSCN0398.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407755525324766578" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglOLjS7Ao8-cXCW7lxbmOgD1h4Wu78CcMLXLE4A0uWLnRzfUSza0rXXX8GHkbtq5rDiIXNwxN21pEJys0I-N6lgNeoNVPdcHbbdDaaDit8ag3iIxWMt5CcCdpxOhmyQdZ1TRQpMHXkjK8v/s1600/DSCN0409.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglOLjS7Ao8-cXCW7lxbmOgD1h4Wu78CcMLXLE4A0uWLnRzfUSza0rXXX8GHkbtq5rDiIXNwxN21pEJys0I-N6lgNeoNVPdcHbbdDaaDit8ag3iIxWMt5CcCdpxOhmyQdZ1TRQpMHXkjK8v/s320/DSCN0409.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407755514343625122" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9AFvBlEcOliKcFXtuPIFmlfnGoxmW7vl1ZKEx5MQZAG25wlfIjcSp72SIW7sPariicBVN9SuoqYsuZ8cNd7EwrLH-ccenFAaX-kUfEIMKvybT12PijbdYfq1eEqP39gJqIhIjkWZttQw9/s1600/DSCN0408.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9AFvBlEcOliKcFXtuPIFmlfnGoxmW7vl1ZKEx5MQZAG25wlfIjcSp72SIW7sPariicBVN9SuoqYsuZ8cNd7EwrLH-ccenFAaX-kUfEIMKvybT12PijbdYfq1eEqP39gJqIhIjkWZttQw9/s320/DSCN0408.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407755510701055570" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Anyway, I'm just ganna shove some stuff into this entry that I've meant to put into others and didn't and now can't logically string them all together. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Second Weekend Here:</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Friday:</span> My options were: 1. Ice skating with the Neubauers 2. Getting drinks with AFSers or 3. Going to a massive house party with Linda.I was invited to way too many things on Friday, and in true Claire fashion I said "screw it" to all of them and opted to just go out to sushi with my host family and then go to sleep early. I truly am a special breed of teenager. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Saturday:</span> I called my best friend Kate for the first time in two months. It's weird, I feel like so much has happened since I've been here that it was hard of thinking of something to say. I then met another exchange student, Jasmine, for the day in Berlin. We did a weeks worth of walking (aka getting lost), got Starbucks, and went to dinner. It's amazing talking to other exchange students and realizing that all of your "original thoughts on Germany" are thought of by every other exchange student here. I then rushed home by 7 in order to go to a neighborhood party our family threw with hot cider, bratwursts, and pretzels. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Sunday:</span> Basically chilled all day and then went to a volleyball game with my family and Jack. Lesson Learned in Germany: apparently screaming during sporting events is NOT acceptable. It was fun doing my usual "wooo" and receiving glares from those around me. Excuse me for having spirit...Coming home was fun. We pumped-up-the-jams (look how hip I'm getting in Berlin!) and danced in the living room while cooking bratwurst for dinner. I practically pee my pants when I hear Germans singing the dirty lyrics of English songs in which their totally unaware of. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Third Weekend Here:</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Friday:</span> Linda and I went to a Mexican bar for dinner and planned on coming back after going to the movies for drinks. We then met up with Jack and Phillip to go see 2012. The theater was absolutely the most gigantic thing I've ever seen and even had a curtain. I could easily follow the movie but it's definitely not one I'd buy on DVD (By the way, did you know that American dvd's don't work in Germany?). Thing was, the movie was 3 hours and everyone was pretty tired after sitting through that, so we just headed home. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Saturday:</span> I went to coffee with a fellow classmate of mine. I swear, the people who work at Starbucks are always like the nicest people ever. Anyway, then Saturday night I went with Linda to this super chick party in a Berlin apartment. I felt like I was in a movie. The apartment costs 3000 euros monthly and had a great view of the city. It was only about 10 of us and we chatted and played an assortment of games and yeah I had a really good time and got home around 2. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Sunday:</span> Linda asked me whether I'd like to go to a professional male hockey game, telling me the appeal was how good looking the players were. Showed up and realized it was a male FIELD hockey game and am still curious as to why this sport screams "sexy" to German girls.<br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Some Tid-Bit What Nots:<br /></span><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">- </span>There are a lot of limping Germans in Berlin. It seems like every other person has a limp in fact. And its not like the, "Oh I walked on my ankle wrong" limp, its like a "My ankle bone is shattered and I'm slowly dragging myself to the hospital" type limp. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">-</span> The other day at breakfast my sister Carolin asked me whether I had found a winter jacket yet. I tried saying "I haven't looked" aka "Ich habe nicht gegockt" but my second g in gogockt came out as an f and I ended up answering "I haven't had sex'. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">-</span> I was on the bus with two other classmates and we were listening to a woman telling her little kids a riddle. She says, "If a man was born in Germany, but moved and worked in America and died there, what nationality is he?" the kids ponder. My classmate goes, "An immigrant".<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">-</span>For some reason the kids in my school got it into their heads that I'm an au pair and no matter how many times I say "doch" aka not true, I'm still asked about the kids I'm taking care of. One girl from my class friend requested me on Facebook and asks me the next day, "That picture with you and the two tall boys with brown and blonde hair, are those your kids?" funny thing was, that was with Jack and Phillip, who are both older than me. Plus, if I was an au pair and in their school, what the hell are my kids doing?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">-</span> My host sister Caro was trying to sing an English song by a band called Monrose. The song was "Strike the Match", but because she doesn't speak English, the words don't always come out right. Thereby my sister was going around the house for a day scream-singing "Strike the Bitch". It was way too entertaining to tell her.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">-</span> In the language school I take German classes in twice a week, they also teach English. On the walls of our classroom there are dialgues written out by beginner English speakers. Most include hi, whats up, im good, and so on. Obviously some kid didn't get the assignment and wrote this dialogue:<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Frank:</span> Hey Jennifer, have you ever been a man before?<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Jennifer:</span> Yes, I have!<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Frank:</span> When have you been a man?<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Jennifer:</span> I was a man two minutes ago!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Facts You'll Never Learn in German Class:</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">-</span> Toilets here all have buttons. One for flush, and one to stop flushing. There by everyone pretty much is aware if it's 1 or 2.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">-</span> Drinking milk alone (w/o cocoa or whatever the fuck I'm supposedly supposed to be putting in milk) is considered really weird. I get questions about it all the time.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">-</span> Trains and subways are completely on the honor system. No one comes to check it yet everyone buys a ticket. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">-</span> I was told on a CBYX conference call before I left that Germans wear clothes for a couple days before changing, to which I thought "Psh, they are just trying to scare me" (my logics awesome, I know). Well, in fact EVERYONE wears outfits from 2 to even 5 days in a row and never gets a second glance for it. Doing that in America would be the quickest way to have no friends.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">-</span> Germans say "your welcome" before you say "thank you". I've been trying to beat them to the punch for the last month.Claire Goes To Deutschlandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07848762058333837770noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3249434072234973409.post-86988424910814653742009-11-10T08:44:00.000-08:002009-11-16T07:55:16.231-08:00To Be a Jelly Doughnut...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrr9xtBowbMw1pVTHFUmBBnZLA43hdPpGz0K8UtUGhJv8hvmAJ0V85G2lLgir9n7hvtXQ6K1sAIF-uVuKobzJLJXCSJlKrhduC3ryfh1VSBZi9DnD7AnvRGiKzJaXcO02Sfznyfj34oHhs/s1600/DSCN0412.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrr9xtBowbMw1pVTHFUmBBnZLA43hdPpGz0K8UtUGhJv8hvmAJ0V85G2lLgir9n7hvtXQ6K1sAIF-uVuKobzJLJXCSJlKrhduC3ryfh1VSBZi9DnD7AnvRGiKzJaXcO02Sfznyfj34oHhs/s320/DSCN0412.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404730552045199298" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJS74ZLcmIZRPumHCmsCPFBtq6eP-UKEIpfefKgXNhhIyUMTosjhp9LnjMoHQkkfmXMu6xLEZNkGSh3IDnWwXJXGSzs7qcgvk1ZsMnPUalUfWdh9QB8wQ9ZTL9JULN3AKUFnZAvm6UUAnW/s1600/DSCN0416.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJS74ZLcmIZRPumHCmsCPFBtq6eP-UKEIpfefKgXNhhIyUMTosjhp9LnjMoHQkkfmXMu6xLEZNkGSh3IDnWwXJXGSzs7qcgvk1ZsMnPUalUfWdh9QB8wQ9ZTL9JULN3AKUFnZAvm6UUAnW/s320/DSCN0416.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404730549099737314" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRJ5LLls_7pmwrLjyDcnlwiwt3et4ZaG1NORtibx8i9UQrzLahRaFT7ipnSiP39jjBNvpQR1_8m5e6Akyfjw3jW_L6PH1vLFLnk1rLeUbbC9jQY5TtFSC-EXV4LQIunINNFVxd_3OTQ1MQ/s1600/DSCN0400.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRJ5LLls_7pmwrLjyDcnlwiwt3et4ZaG1NORtibx8i9UQrzLahRaFT7ipnSiP39jjBNvpQR1_8m5e6Akyfjw3jW_L6PH1vLFLnk1rLeUbbC9jQY5TtFSC-EXV4LQIunINNFVxd_3OTQ1MQ/s320/DSCN0400.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404730542395349602" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV5wXe6ljAzTOITrfk5UE7-8zhzR0F-ZEvzJ-FIC9-dIWl_4jr-5Cd4IJBGGljBHO7kPy_TB_9Tc13cLBBoSWCLaT3cVdksY4_aXoMKj4EINTsy5wiSE-XIFz4ivJfrRNS4JWGYi6ahKkb/s1600/DSCN0406.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV5wXe6ljAzTOITrfk5UE7-8zhzR0F-ZEvzJ-FIC9-dIWl_4jr-5Cd4IJBGGljBHO7kPy_TB_9Tc13cLBBoSWCLaT3cVdksY4_aXoMKj4EINTsy5wiSE-XIFz4ivJfrRNS4JWGYi6ahKkb/s320/DSCN0406.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404730535896380658" /></a><br /><br />Let me start off by sharing my exciting news. I'm going to Stuttgart for Christmas break!!! YES. AFS approved it today so I can stay with my uncle and aunt there. It'll be the first time that I get to see where they live, as every time I've seen them its been in America. It'll actually be the first time I have met my aunt face to face as opposed to over the phone. I leave the morning of the 25th (yey for Christmas morning on a 6 hour train!) and come back the 3rd of January.<br /><br />So, I have officially been here in Berlin for a week . I must say that the difference between Forst (every time I tell a German where I lived they laugh at me<--not known to be the prettiest place or have the prettiest people). Living in Berlin is the exact equivalent of living in New York City and I just feel so right here. Theres a million things right at your fingertips-which is always the feeling I get from NYC too. I like the constant energy of a city, the flow of people, the unexpectedness of it all.<br /><br />The people here are also a lot different and I like them so much for it. They are all really really edgy. Girls in my class have flawless makeup, dyed hair, designer jackets, and use big purses instead of book bags (who looks like a total dweeb with their little book bag? When I told my host mom about the girls at school using purses instead of book bags she responded "Yeah, book bags are more for little kids" Great.) I spent a lunch listening to them talk about the plastic surgery they had had done/wanted to have done which was a total eyeopener. But they are really nice, without being fake nice which is something I have learned to hate here.<br /><br />OH, but I must share a story that made my life improve. On my first day, sitting in our classroom eating lunch together, I pointed out to one of the girls that her shoes were very popular in America (she was wearing Uggs). What do you know if the next day, absolutely no joke, EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM WAS WEARING UGGS! I was astonished in the most humorous way. I feel like also telling them that girls in my school wear sweat pants, a dirty exercise t-shirt and their hair wet to school and see if they think thats awesome too...<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">First Weekend Here:</span><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Friday:</span> I went to my first German club. I'm holding on to that "Try anything once" mindset and therefore agreed to go despite the fact that I am a total homebody and I also get tired faster than any three year old you know. And you know what? I had a really good time! My host sisters friends were really nice and I wasn't at all pressured to drink. The club had body guards and everything and I was on my first guest list! It was actually a "twin" themed party so my host sister and I wore matching neon "I <3 Berlin"<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Saturday: </span>My host sisters and I, along with both their grandmas, went shopping in this huge shopping "castle" in Berlin. It was a really awesome place where the whole ceiling throughout the entire place had an aquarium displayed on it with sound effects<-- hard to imagine, I know. I finished my Christmas shopping, a huge weight off of my shoulders, but another huge weight put on as now (despite buying gifts between 8-20 euros) I have only 85 Euros until the first week of December. I've pretty much given up on my dream of buying a pair of winter boots, or a wool jack, or anything else for that matter. It's convinced me that other than my host family, next month I'm not buying anyone here Christmas gifts. Ahhh the magicalness of Christmas.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Sunday:</span> My host sisters, me, and my host dad went to see Berlin play Koln in the Olympic stadium. The olympic stadium awed me for the lamest reason---it looks EXACTLY like the Quidditch stadium from the beginning of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire!! Unfortunately, no one in my family understood my reference.Claire Goes To Deutschlandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07848762058333837770noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3249434072234973409.post-28524872678260302372009-11-04T07:53:00.000-08:002009-11-05T08:04:46.289-08:00New Host Family, New school, New life<div><br /></div><div>Monday night Claudia talked to me in the kitchen and asked me, "How would you feel if I told you we found a totally nice family for you?". I didn't say anything, in hopes that she'd tell me what I was hoping-that it was them. But she told me a family friend of their neighbors volunteered to host me for the year. I know I was supposed to be excited, but for some reason nothing came out. I had no words for what I was feeling. Although a new host family is what I wanted, something was off.<div><br /></div><div>The next morning I got picked up by my new host mother, Carola. And there, where I had to say goodbye to the Neubauers, was where I realized why I hadn't been enthusiastic. I had grown so attached to their family, their home, their lifestyle, that I never thought I'd ever have to say goodbye. I'm not a cryer, nor do I often show my feelings, but saying goodbye was a sadness I can't recall experiencing before. I balled hugging goodbye, balled on the ride to my new house, balled everytime I thought about the family I had left. Although my new family is only 5 or so kilometers away, it feels like a world away.</div><div><br /></div><div>Luckily, I will be going to the same German classes as Jack twice a week. Georg and Phillip I will see also as they take Spanish lessons there at the same time. The Neubauers gave me a card wishing me luck and reminiscing on time spent with one another. I keep it in my memory box for Germany.</div><div><br /></div><div>But now, for my new host family. They live in Berlin- or on the outskirts. They are the Sahms. Its two parents (Peter and Carola) and two daughters-one of 15 (Carolin) and one of 18 (Linda). They are both really funny and I taught them how to play Egyptian Rat Screw which they ask me to play as much as possible-convinced they will beat me some day, which I am sure they will. Linda and I went running together and talked about the disadvantages to being short. We ate dinner together and I taught unique American dances like "the shopping cart", "the sprinkler", and "the lawnmower". It was the laughter that took place yesterday that starting healing the wound of leaving the Neubauers. AFS always tells you, when your upset, hang out with people and you never think that will help. All you want to do is sit alone. But yesterday I realized how much it really helps and that that is the only way to start feeling better.</div><div><br /></div><div>Naturally, new city= new school. 6th new school in 5 years. You'd think first days would get easier, but god knows they don't. My school is also in Berlin, Carolin goes there, and its home to 1200 students. But I told myself that being nervous wouldn't help my situation, and spent the day going to classes with another student in my grade. Her name was Wiwi (pronounced vii-vii) and she made it totally unawkward to be with her all day (as usually it feels like I'm a burden). My German is so much better than when I started my last school, and therefore I actually made a legit group of friends instead of having the "I'm only nice to you cause your foreign but I secretly want to ditch you right now" friends. My schedules amazing, and I go home around noon 3 days a week. I'm actually looking forward to school tomorrow. School made everything feel better and I started imagining my year in this family and this city-and it looks really good. Plus, living in Berlin gives one more school break than in Brandenburg. I have German classes tonight which adds to why today was a good day.</div></div><div><br /></div><div>And now for some pictures I should have posted with earlier entries:</div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbbVyutxf1cFovB6CVcZfufuw_hguqALUXpgYvyBFG4sRiGVBwIUn7LkYktPJkgnhzAgumB2fj6sxpYCWrJQnTveG-r29IEdto5lNMKPjZTfj67gxVqCq_cRp0W2dI67dLS512g5x-MZBH/s1600-h/DSCN0337.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbbVyutxf1cFovB6CVcZfufuw_hguqALUXpgYvyBFG4sRiGVBwIUn7LkYktPJkgnhzAgumB2fj6sxpYCWrJQnTveG-r29IEdto5lNMKPjZTfj67gxVqCq_cRp0W2dI67dLS512g5x-MZBH/s320/DSCN0337.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400650074987493314" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Trip to the Berlin Zoo</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh258fK_bkok7Gc7SsNcwxwsCErFfCEI0xYSXVVn44JOxeTNc1bit8nREYtVnLzxv2Sqqk5izuQUQ-O5GZLZC0J288A9l62TwzIv-NtvmaBVNRH5jbjdnjOnbdWDrn9QM_hy0Ei51-y41j0/s1600-h/Picture+397.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh258fK_bkok7Gc7SsNcwxwsCErFfCEI0xYSXVVn44JOxeTNc1bit8nREYtVnLzxv2Sqqk5izuQUQ-O5GZLZC0J288A9l62TwzIv-NtvmaBVNRH5jbjdnjOnbdWDrn9QM_hy0Ei51-y41j0/s320/Picture+397.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400650068990446482" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Visiting a castle in Potsdam with Jack</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdBOZ4Ia2HPlvAgsqr6ajDRdWK3-mgGEKuP5qgRjE-B9e0_QmhuGUhAzCqZFOtwugKFCp5RpAjCuHSED9phpcKcvY34n55pV9BLBf_NqdsSGK1l4zv0-W_ZCqJxCjVUxOw33rxCZSoObrz/s1600-h/Picture+334.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdBOZ4Ia2HPlvAgsqr6ajDRdWK3-mgGEKuP5qgRjE-B9e0_QmhuGUhAzCqZFOtwugKFCp5RpAjCuHSED9phpcKcvY34n55pV9BLBf_NqdsSGK1l4zv0-W_ZCqJxCjVUxOw33rxCZSoObrz/s320/Picture+334.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400650057586348146" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Late Orientation Camp in September in Berlin</div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>Countries from left to right</b>: Mexico, China, America, Brazil, Japan, Brazil, Panama, Brazil</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMcLKn1CK_-qkMiG6st-YnRxhONmyX4jo3PnUvFsea66Zg3ncD6rZAMkKI0bBbyILn1fkMlZdZopIbz-469kb3oZI29f0dola2OOBq-UgCGfwOzipaZA7h8k2luVkG7QdxvFGf2jJ_KrTb/s1600-h/Picture+211.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMcLKn1CK_-qkMiG6st-YnRxhONmyX4jo3PnUvFsea66Zg3ncD6rZAMkKI0bBbyILn1fkMlZdZopIbz-469kb3oZI29f0dola2OOBq-UgCGfwOzipaZA7h8k2luVkG7QdxvFGf2jJ_KrTb/s320/Picture+211.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400650055673191538" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">These are my good friends Lauren and Evan, during our orientation in Washington D.C.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3qqHYYaz-f_QbObAG-h8XnPWg2eEb0-ncNm0-1o_AYFhFkNjcGANFu1tigbznNAV9aMse-WLZHyN5LN-_z6Tr5FIPqEyGsJmUOjTGQSU_ociTQGXqgkChk51CaAVwEsHTPJ7CR0ODJqWd/s1600-h/Picture+210.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3qqHYYaz-f_QbObAG-h8XnPWg2eEb0-ncNm0-1o_AYFhFkNjcGANFu1tigbznNAV9aMse-WLZHyN5LN-_z6Tr5FIPqEyGsJmUOjTGQSU_ociTQGXqgkChk51CaAVwEsHTPJ7CR0ODJqWd/s320/Picture+210.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400650046282327714" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Washington D.C. naturally.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Claire Goes To Deutschlandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07848762058333837770noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3249434072234973409.post-78665380904060352252009-11-01T01:43:00.000-07:002009-11-01T05:27:28.985-08:00Happy...not really Halloween!<div>Since I'm posting pictures on this post I'm not going to make a gigantic effort to write a lot in here. Instead I'm ganna pull an AP Euro and just write little cultural differences I've seen in bullet notes:<div><br /></div><div>- Theres a <i>million</i> different types of bread and every morning we buy fresh bread for breakfast</div><div>- Meals are at really different times. Lunch is around 3 pm and dinner is around 9 pm</div><div>- You<i> always</i> have to wait for everyone to eat</div><div>- When meeting new people you always shake hands, even when its a little kid or someone your age</div><div>- No elbows on the table and you bring food to your mouth<i> instead of</i> mouth to your food</div><div>- Lots of people sing to both the radio and their Ipod</div><div>- Acne is completely acceptable and theres no acne commercials here. This really ticks me cause I had really bad acne last year and got hell for it and I wish it had waited a year.</div><div>- One always has to look put together before they walk out the door, this includes going out for the mail.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>PICTURE TIME!!!</b></div></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBtwt4lgVWu_nCwL96pkVgBFdjWdZ1r7zxsqDt6v8C6ADt3svk2YOfRmJgtr4A299TpgHYLJjuf7rGSCBCee7p54r9F-3rcRmIpeSv1e5JBSlyq1UkS99yAt01uqI6ZZWI43A2icOS-5mF/s1600-h/DSCN0361.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBtwt4lgVWu_nCwL96pkVgBFdjWdZ1r7zxsqDt6v8C6ADt3svk2YOfRmJgtr4A299TpgHYLJjuf7rGSCBCee7p54r9F-3rcRmIpeSv1e5JBSlyq1UkS99yAt01uqI6ZZWI43A2icOS-5mF/s320/DSCN0361.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399081804042399842" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><b>Think I was kidding about the gigantic sheets here?</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><br /></span></div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqHXEbNZXwkwXoZHrQ-IGwoULgzUftEb5owT8Mpr4ILRV8Gv8F4H7dffCuiVHw-fItDxQ4YWPQBIwoC6MF9J62L0fv6njZn_lD_w3DcFXn3cQhEdc3_CJTeiHwcefCFu4QnqrFD3Gbhuum/s1600-h/DSCN0356.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqHXEbNZXwkwXoZHrQ-IGwoULgzUftEb5owT8Mpr4ILRV8Gv8F4H7dffCuiVHw-fItDxQ4YWPQBIwoC6MF9J62L0fv6njZn_lD_w3DcFXn3cQhEdc3_CJTeiHwcefCFu4QnqrFD3Gbhuum/s320/DSCN0356.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399081789193580610" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><b>From left to right: Jack, Phillip, George, Me. We went to a power plant where we had to wear these really heavy shoes and helmets. Do I know why I was there? Absolutely not. All I know is that George has his doctorates in engineering and he had to do something here and brought us along. </b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSC1xwh55oZ4XG52VTERAyZFKKICd5L_u2nMI2B5EetLw9qpd1jzUjJP1UWaezdQtin_a3mcUD75UtJGYI5QkbHdYl4SpNpgViiif20boxpnhf0x9AKbYkIvyirE2r1bpxixHtcAw8kq2V/s1600-h/DSCN0273.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSC1xwh55oZ4XG52VTERAyZFKKICd5L_u2nMI2B5EetLw9qpd1jzUjJP1UWaezdQtin_a3mcUD75UtJGYI5QkbHdYl4SpNpgViiif20boxpnhf0x9AKbYkIvyirE2r1bpxixHtcAw8kq2V/s320/DSCN0273.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399081787185829346" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><b>This is in Berlin where we went to the classical concert. </b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfcECxKZ2yrT709HrsHpKp4hV4SUDIF7C_hoRIJDOovgcnqT9eZB_Smf1h2P9yYALJg7Ovc7tXeU4Q0uAroy9PwxWlEFPgnPy04jPkKt9AqtNuVLLTCv01QF5CWFuLAE1VXXNxgbbe-Ivb/s1600-h/DSCN0256.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfcECxKZ2yrT709HrsHpKp4hV4SUDIF7C_hoRIJDOovgcnqT9eZB_Smf1h2P9yYALJg7Ovc7tXeU4Q0uAroy9PwxWlEFPgnPy04jPkKt9AqtNuVLLTCv01QF5CWFuLAE1VXXNxgbbe-Ivb/s320/DSCN0256.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399081781808267490" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><b>This is on one of those trails I was telling you about. </b></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>So this week I spent in Northwestern Germany in a couple different dorfs=villages and stadts=cities. We were there to celebrate the 81st birthday of their Grandpa. The car trip reminded me a lot of the US. The three kids were crunched in the back (Who got stuck with the middle seat??) and we all drifted in and out of sleep and tried out million of different seating positions in attempt to be somewhat comfortable...which didn't work. Claudia brought lots of sweets and chocolates to eat and for lunch we went to Burger King. </div><div><br /></div><div>Grandpa and Grandma were such typical grandparents I just had to giggle. Grandma was constantly saying "Oh I need to do this. Can I get you something to eat? Oh, let me do that! etc. etc. " with everyone else just telling her to calm down and sit and that everythings perfect. Grandpa was calm and friendly and was always asking the kids to see their cameras so he could try them out and adjust the settings. We all stayed in the same house and I finally got to see what takes place at family gatherings after the kids go to bed! Hoorah for growing up. Also, I learned that theirs a very vile German version of the tellitubbies song (nicely delivered to me by a 3 year old) that goes " stinkywinky tipsy schlampa po" (Shlampa=whore, po=butt).</div><div><br /></div><div>We stayed from Tuesday until Saturday. There were lots of fun times and also incredibly boring ones. I swear, family reunions always leave Claire alone in a corner at some point and I have neither my Ipod or a book to read. On Saturday was the big party, we all dressed up really nice and it was a brunch, lunch, and cake party. Thats a lot of time in one room. So occasionally we would take a break and hang out outside, and I conveniently forgot my coat. We also took a trip to a Germanic war museum. But unfortunately for me, neither Jack nor I understood where we were being taken to, so I didn't think to change my shoes (which were pumps) for this museum. Also, the museum had 10 flights of stairs. Welcome to hell ladies and gentlemen. </div><div><br /></div><div>I've also made a major accomplishment in my German. I can now understand German in group conversations-something I've been majorly struggling with since I've gotten here. This has led to a lot more fun, such as going to dinner with two teenage German relatives of George and teaching each other "native" dances of our country. Jack and I taught the Grind and the Stanky Leg...</div><div><br /></div><div>I also wanted to share that George called Jacks giant shoes size "Children Coffins"</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Claire Goes To Deutschlandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07848762058333837770noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3249434072234973409.post-30482685816936170172009-10-26T09:39:00.000-07:002009-10-26T12:07:43.143-07:00Putt Putt Saves the Zoo!After reading several blogs of other AFSers I'm starting to realize that perhaps I veered away from the whole purpose of a blog, which is to tell you what's going on here. Instead Ive just been sharing my reactions lately. So I thought I would try out telling you what I am doing, which is easier now as I am on October break (yes indeed, how awesome is that? Two weeks off in October!) and I am actually doing things.<div><br /></div><div>So as I mentioned in my earlier entry, I am staying with another AFSer Jack. Jack also won the scholarship that I did. We met on the train from Frankfurt to Berlin, became friends at Late Orientation Camp, then I stayed at his place when I needed a host for my SAT weekend where we grew sick of eachother, and then now I am staying with him for the two week October Break where we are both sort of like "I can't get away from you, so I'm just ganna learn to deal with you". I imagine its like being a married couple. Why may you ask, is AFS allowing me to stay with Jack in Berlin for two weeks? Yes, well, I am changing families. And until AFS finds me a new family (cross your fingers not in the same town I was in = major awkwardness) I am staying here, which suits me just fine. I have done more here in the week I've stayed here than I did in a month with my old host family. </div><div><br /></div><div>Although I can't act like I do something interesting all the time here (aka Jack and I sat with our laptops and ate candy on the couch for literally three days straight until we both turned to eachother, moaned, and went "we have to do <i>something!</i>"). This led to Jack and I taking a bikeride through the town and "spazieren" which is exploring woods. We found tons of creepy old treehouses that were so water-soden that we couldnt climb all but one. The woods in Germany are amazing, theres tons of old abandoned roads and you never run into other people. All you see is farms on all sides of you and a seemingly endless trail. It always reminds me of the movie "Pride and Prejudice" for those who have any idea the scenery I am referring to. I like to take walks on these walks to think and get outside. </div><div><br /></div><div>Also, Jack and I had taken an earlier exploring adventure in another woods. We rode our bikes to a local "wilderness park"=forest and decided we'd rather walk (actually I wasn't wearing a belt and was tired of worrying about my shirt riding up on the bike so I insisted we drop the bikes). Unfortunately, in Germany, its the national past time to steal bikes, so we had to find a ditch and throw our bikes in there to make sure they werent stolen. We quickly got lost as the path was both neverending and constantly forking. But it was all in good fun. At one point we ended up in this huge field where goats with horns were kept. It was surrounded by an electric fence which of course Jack and I spent about 20 minutes taking turns grabbing...I know, our maturity level is astounding. Finally, we-by the grace of God- somehow made our way back to our bikes. We stopped by the local shop and had Fanta and German pastries and then continued our ride home. </div><div><br /></div><div>Recently, I've been going out a lot. I went to see...fuck, I forget the name. Some movie with...oh God, I forget that too. This is turning out to be a really good story...<i>Okay</i>, so I went to see a movie with Phillip (Jacks host brother), Dennis (I'll hold out my opinions on this creeper), and Phillips friends. I actually understood the movie! Hooray me. We also went Christmas shopping on Saturday in Berlin. I'd name what I bought but my family reads this thing (hey guys!). Then yesterday, I found out that my Grandpa had passed away. It really hit me hard cause I couldn't be there and he meant so much to me. But last night I went to a classical symphony with the Neubauer's (Jacks family) which was fun, as we got to dress up all fancy-like and the concert was surprisingly more interesting than it might sound. When the last song played I was like, "Hmm that was good" BUT THEN people kept clapping, and clapping-and clapping. And three encores later I was on the verge of taking the U-baun home. This is especially since, 1. High heels are a bitch to wear no matter if your sitting or standing, 2. Panty hose from hell. I hate when the crotch falls down to like your knees and unless you go to the bathroom theres no way you can pull them up (I'm crossing my fingers some girl reading this understands my pain)--panty hose really need some evolving because I dont know a woman who actually likes wearing them . But yes, the concert was enjoyable and the family activities in this family always make me exceptionally happy. </div><div><br /></div><div>Oh my god, I almost forgot the zoo. Today I went to the zoo with Jack, Phillip, Claudia (host mom), and another family that has a 10 year old daughter, a 16 year old daughter Leo whose a friend of Jacks, and a mom. Oh, the zoo-trip, how to describe you? I'll name my favorite parts.</div><div><br /></div><div>1. When in the monkey part of the park Claudia goes "Hey Claire, look at those monkeys-so cute!" and I look and go 'Thats officially the ugliest freaking animal I've ever seen!" and promptly asked what the hell was wrong with its face. But then suddenly the monkey turned around and instead of seeing a regular monkey butt-I saw a typical monkey face. Turns out, that ugly monkey I had seen before was its BUTT. It had like a tumor on its butt that looked like a face. It was both incredible and absolutely pain stakingly disgusting. </div><div><br /></div><div>2. Of course, with little kids we naturally had to go to the petting zoo. Some little kid shoved feed in my hand and insisted I feed the stupid-looking horse, and instead of throwing feed in her face, I did it (I can only imagine how proud my parents are of this). Naturally, my hand was absolutely disgusting and smelled awful afterwards so I just pulled a sheep near me and used its fur as a napkin--crafty right? Then I ran into my new best friend. It was a goat that when it...cried (is that what a goat does?) it sounded like it was choking on a spoon and gurgling water at the same time. It sounds awful but it about got me to pee myself laughing. Also, I got to see an elephant bash as one elephant got pushed over and then the other sat on it. Then when the fallen elephant got up it went out for revenge and pushed over the elephant that had sat on it. P.S. For Christmas, I want a baby elephant.</div><div><br /></div><div>3. I have no three, that's unfortunate. </div><div><br /></div><div>Tomorrow we leave for Northwestern Germany to celebrate their Grandpa's birthday. We are staying until Thursday and I'm excited to go to the other side of Germany. So yeah, that was my attempt at explaining a little bit of what I do. I feel like it was a bit dull, but whatever- its experimentation.</div><div><br /></div><div>OH, speaking of experimentation. I'm going through this really cool 'what-the hell" phase where I'll pretty much try anything if you ask me just to know I tried. This has led to many new foods that I like and very few things that I've tried have been unenjoyable. I tried:</div><div><br /></div><div>1. Cows tongue</div><div>2. Snails</div><div>3. Salad ( I actually really like it parents! I know, me liking salad?!)</div><div>4. Mexican curry</div><div>5. Sauercraut<-- absolutely disgusting</div><div>6. Bacon wrapped plum <--- the nastiest thing I've ever eaten in my whole life which says a lot considering I ate mexican worms and crickets for extra credit in Science</div><div>7. Gorka<-- like pickles but so much better (Dad, I shall make sure we eat this when you visit)</div><div>8. Doenner<-- Turkish meat pocket thats like the German blt</div><div>9. Chili Chocolate<--- Delicious at first and then has a horrible aftertaste</div><div>10. Buttermilk<-- Really popular here and does that not sound absolutely delicious? I was disappointed that its both bitter and un-butter-like. Fail. </div><div>11. My first beer <-- I always thought that beer smelled like perfume, and hey, what do you know if it tastes like it too?</div><div><br /></div><div>My parents will be amazed by this list, as I've managed to stay a very picky eater-along with my brother- for the majority of my life. Then this Summer I realized that perhaps if I tried foods other than pizza and mac n cheese that I might actually like them, and look at me now!</div>Claire Goes To Deutschlandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07848762058333837770noreply@blogger.com1