Today my baby sister graduates. Obviously I am broken hearted that I am the only sibling absent on this momentous day. I would give nearly anything to be there right now. In fact, she´ll be crossing that stage in less than 2 hours... but I can´t dwell in this too long or I´ll get unnecessarily sad and I´ve been punishing myself enough lately. It warms my heart, still, to imagine everyone together right now at the farm, excited making their plans for the big day, the reception, and everything that comes with high school graduations. I expect to see some photos soon, my family! Greta, I am so proud of you and of your post-school plans. You put me to shame, lovely girl. This one is going to be doing some amazing things with her life (and already has), just wait and see. Not a shred of doubt in my mind.
Next week is the Bethel graduation. Most of my old mod is reuniting that weekend, which also makes me happy. I have a framed photo of my beloved 7B/9C birds on my desk, and sometimes I am astounded at how lucky I have been to have such quality women in my life. We write each other mass-messages every now and again (thank you internet), and I can´t express how much comfort our continuing correspondence brings me. While our days of mod paradise are over, our impact on each others´ lives certainly has not and will not be ended. In fact, in many regards I feel it has just begun. I am still really hoping to find a job in the Lawrence/KC area so I can live closer to some - perhaps even share a house or flat.
On that topic, I´m still fervently searching for a job - any job really - for my return in August. I´m still clinging to hopes that I can find an art/gallery/museum/theater sort of gig, but realize within the current economy this could be unattainable for now. I´m still trying to sort out how to broaden my search, both in type and location. I´ve applied for positions now not just in the KC area, but Omaha, Lincoln, Wichita, Hutchinson, Independence, St. Louis, and even Newport (though this one was mostly just to boost my self-esteem and stay in practice applying for high-end gallery jobs!). I´m also open to the idea that if I can´t find anything that feels right, I can continue my search after August and work temporarily at a fast food joint or supermarket. I keep swinging back and forth between the extremes of having VERY high hopes of finding something incredibly challenging and stimulating, pertaining to my degrees and qualifications, and the other part of me which throws up my hands without a care at all - being content in the thought of a low-stress simple job, just something to sustain myself and be somewhat productive. We´ll soon see. Wish me luck!
This has been a bit of a stressful week for me, and the rainy weather is kind of getting old. BUT, I do have good news about my garden snail dilemma (I know you´ve all been losing sleep over this, right?)! :) After losing a few precious plants to the malicious and greedy slugs and snails, I decided to follow the advice from a good friend (who happens to work as a gardener) and take some action beyond my failed collect-and-destroy method. Yesterday I sat and built some traps using old plastic laundry bottles, cutting holes in the sides for the snails to climb up into, and pouring in the secret bait. Apparently snails LOVE beer, which is lucky because I have several packs of Becks left from my host family´s garden party that I´ve been meaning to get rid of somehow. So I set 2 traps on each side of my garden last night, and found dozens of little drunkards floating in their beer graves this morning! I know they´re cute and all, but I never thought I could be so rejoiced to find those little corpses. My garden is saved! I still had to spend a few minutes collecting some of the resistant snails who decided to abstain from drinking last night, but it definitely made the job much easier than normal. I might build a couple more traps to see if it helps, but am a bit worried about what will happen when I run out of beer bait in a couple weeks. Could get expensive.
In other matters, I´ve been finding ways to practice my German more lately, which has been nice and is feeling a bit more natural to me now. We´ve been practicing for the exam (which I´m not taking) in class, and on Wednesday my teacher actually complimented me on a successful conversation I had to make in front of the whole class - intimidating but kind of satisfying to have survived despite the pressure. To celebrate I went out to the Irish pub (I know I should be experiencing German places, but the atmosphere is so relaxed and it has become a friendly local haunt of mine) with my classmate-friend Kristin. It is a nice quiet, chill place and every once in a while it is nice to go somewhere where we feel like we don´t have to justify ourselves, nor be embarrassed to speak English with each other. The owner, Harry, is a crass old man from Scotland who now knows me by name, tells me stories about Scotland and wars, and is trying to convince me to learn to play poker and darts. :) We chatted with a sailor from New Zealand, and an old couple from Norway (with whom Kristin could speak fluently as I listened with amusement and wonder at the beautiful and bizarre language). Somehow we were bribed to come back this weekend for karaoke, and enjoyed conversation with some German sailors last night amidst the karaoke wails. To my mortification, Harry called me up to sing - and with the whole room in quiet anticipation I had very little choice in the matter. Under pressure and without my safe Nancy Sinatra karaoke album, I quickly picked a simple Simon and Garfunkel tune and surprisingly had a lot of fun. The crowd, as usual, consisted of lots of men and women in their 60-70s, and a few sailors and card sharks, so there wasn´t any pressure or pretension. Later I was called up (again against my will) and the song was already playing - some Elvis song that I had never heard in my life! Somehow I improvised through it, and fortunately the came time for my train back to Bordesholm before I could be tricked into singing again. Despite being slightly mortified, we had a nice time and I think we might try doing karaoke more often now. But it does make me miss my karaoke nights at the Eagles lodge in Newton with Jacob, Kristin, modmates, and occasional Bethel faculty friends... :)
This week with the children has been nice. Wednesday afternoon Emma Sophie and I rode our bikes to a little beach at the Bordesholm lake. Even though the water is still freezing, we brought our swimsuits and waded in the water, splashed at ducks, and built sand fortresses. As both of the children now have Wednesdays free, I hope to start making lake trips part of our weekly routine. For some reason Friday Emmi was overwhelmingly sweet and curious. She started the morning with the blunt question "Kate-chen, why do all people have to die?" to which I hesitated and responded awkwardly with something about needing to make enough space for all the new babies who are born, so we don´t run out of resources and such. Then luckily the conversation shifted as she didn´t know the word "resources" and I focused on explaining what the term means. I thought I was off the hook, and then a few minutes later after brushing our teeth she absently patted my foot and asked "Kate-chen, why do I love you so much?" To this I had no answer at all, choking back a lump in the throat and gave the girl a delighted squeeze. I then taught her the phrase "peas in a pod," which she loved of course after all of our memorable table discussions about "shivering peas." Naturally, later that day she screamed fiery protests at me for not letting her eat more candy, claiming she hated me and threw an hour-long tantrum making a mess of her room. Oh these children... my biggest anxiety and greatest warmth.
I noticed on the train today that our raps (canola) fields are losing their vibrancy now. Last week I took a spectacular bike ride through some country paths, and was blown away by the beautiful yellow fields all around me. I still stick by my claim that nothing is more stunning than a golden Kansas wheat or crimson milo field just before harvest, but... this comes pretty close! The only thing I don´t like about the raps fields is the fact that we have to watch the blossoms die and colors fade back to green again before they are harvested.
Ugh, I´ve made a painfully long post again. I´ll never get better at this, will I? Sorry about that. I have goals to finally post more photos on my flickr page this week - be patient with me please. More Ireland and Spring photos to come soon!
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Friday, May 8, 2009
Mother´s Day Proclamation
I found this genuine call for alliance and settlement to be quite timely. I don´t necessarily believe that we should or must completely disarm today as suggested here by Julia Ward Howe - as ideal as that sounds sometimes, it would likely create even more chaos. But sometimes I find myself getting so absorbed by the details, politics, and process of war that I forget the essence of the conflicts, and the solemn reality that it is not only our own sons and daughters paying the ultimate price, but those of other nations as well - and perhaps not always willingly by the choice of patriotic and honorable defense, as ours have the freedom to make. That being said, this isn´t a blog post intended to debate the pros and cons of disarmament. I would probably fail miserably in such a conversation, as I so often feel myself torn in many different directions when it comes to war and peace. But I just found the history of this proclamation interesting, and the words created some significant food for thought. The following is a quick history lesson on Mother´s Day, followed by the empowering challenge of our Julia Ward Howe:
The first North American Mother’s Day was conceptualized with Julia Ward Howe´s Mother’s Day Proclamation in 1870. Despite having penned The Battle Hymn of the Republic 12 years earlier, Howe had become so distraught by the death and carnage of the Civil War that she called on Mothers to come together and protest what she saw as the futility of their Sons killing the Sons of other Mothers. With the following, she called for an international Mother's Day celebrating peace and motherhood:
Arise, then, women of this day!
Arise all women who have hearts,Whether your baptism be that of water or of tears
Say firmly:
"We will not have great questions decided by irrelevant agencies,
Our husbands shall not come to us reeking of carnage,
For caresses and applause.
Our sons shall not be taken from us to unlearn
All that we have been able to teach them of
charity, mercy and patience.
"We women of one country
Will be too tender of those of another country
To allow our sons to be trained to injure theirs."
From the bosom of the devastated earth a voice goes up with
Our own. It says, "Disarm, Disarm!"
The sword of murder is not the balance of justice!
Blood does not wipe out dishonor
Nor violence indicate possession.
As men have of ten forsaken the plow and the anvil at the summons of war.
Let women now leave all that may be left of home
For a great and earnest day of counsel.
Let them meet first, as women, to bewail and commemorate the dead.
Let them then solemnly take counsel with each other as to the means
Whereby the great human family can live in peace,
Each bearing after his own time the sacred impress, not of Caesar,
But of God.
In the name of womanhood and humanity, I earnestly ask
That a general congress of women without limit of nationality
May be appointed and held at some place deemed most convenient
And at the earliest period consistent with its objects
To promote the alliance of the different nationalities,
The amicable settlement of international questions.
The great and general interests of peace.
For our Mothers, Fathers, Sons, and Daughters everywhere, let it be so.
Monday, May 4, 2009
unorthodox punk
Today at my train platform in Bordesholm I was surrounded as usual by a group of local punks. Against my beliefs that people can be inherently good despite their actions and appearances, I´ve grown to despise these kids - they seem to be everywhere in northern Germany! They all seem to share the same wardrobe of tight black and white hoodies, chuck taylors, and wear their hair and piercings (all intended to be totally original) basically in similar variations and color patterns of each other, standing around shouting obnoxious trendy slang, sharing cigarettes stolen from their older siblings. They linger at every bank, every corner, by pay phones, waste mills, you can´t escape them. They even taint my favorite little ice cream and coffee shop. I gave up long ago on trying not to judge, and have formed a bitter bubble around myself while we wait at the station every Monday and Wednesday in an effort to avoid any encounters. On this occasion, I happened to be standing behind such a kid who was telling his friend something seemingly vulgar. As we waited for the train to pull up, I inspected his ridiculously intricate shaving designs along the buzzed sides of his color-striped hair. I laughed to myself smugly, wondering what more this punk could possibly to do conform to his comrades. The train doors opened, and a woman struggled to exit with her massive grandchild´s baby buggy. Without stopping his vulgar conversation, the kid thoughtlessly stepped up and lowered the buggy down with ease, much to the warm thanks of the older woman. As we climbed the steps, I noticed the conversation shift as his friend started to mock him for being a "softie - mama´s boy" and such. I didn´t break my now-concrete instinct to part ways from the young crowd (let´s be realistic now) and quickly found peace in a quiet seat on the other side of the train, but will admit that I wish I know how that conversation had ended. Anyways, if nothing else it just helped to soften my bitter judgment of our local Bordesholm youth. Maybe they aren´t all so bad.
On this same train I found an abandoned purse. Remembering my own wallet disaster on this very same train, and our eventual reunion (even though there was only one cent left when I finally got it back!), it felt nice to be able to take this purse under wing and safely deliver it to the information booth in Kiel. Sort of a way to pay back the mysterious kind soul who returned my own wallet last month. Maybe "pay it forward" works after all - who knows. Why not humor idealism for a bit? :)
After a shamelessly lazy weekend, my Monday began with a bit of a whirlwind. I stayed up ridiculously late last night with the intention of napping while the children were in school today. Of course, today Emmi woke with a sore neck and Claudia told me to keep her home from Kindergarten... no nap for me today, should have known better. Mondays are very long to begin with, as I leave directly from shuttling Paul Luis to chess lessons in the afternoon for my train (no matter how well I plan ahead I always end up sprinting to catch this train!) to the community German night class in Kiel. By the time I get back to Bordesholm, it is dark and the day is over. As usual, though, I expect the week to fly and I´ll have another lazy weekend at my disposal soon enough. I did make an attempt last weekend to be a bit more social, and had fun going dancing with my Swedish friend Kristin at a club that is built like an old ship. But for some reason I really have very little desire to get out with friends lately. I´ve been at my happiest simply riding my bike alone, taking walks, painting and sketching, working in the garden, reading new books, "knitting" (I get to about 8 rows and start over again with no direction, as it is too warm to make scarves and I don´t really know how to make anything else, nor do I have the initiative to try to learn complicated new stitches). I am so ancient, but for some reason I need this right now. It will probably pass soon enough as I get restless, but I´ll admit that it feels good to try to save a bit of money and have time to sort of be "inside" of my self for the time being.
Friday my host parents threw a big neighborhood Maifest garden party to celebrate the start of the new month and changing season. Around 30-40 people arrived, mostly their friends and children. I actually knew some of the parents of the children better than Claudia and Torsten! The setting led to some kind of awkward small talk attempts on my part, and I busied myself with keeping wood on the fires and cooking rosemary potatoes. I was relieved when the grandfather, Opa Lothar arrived. He also felt out of place, I think, and joined me by the fire. After a while he shared war stories and some of his tragic family history (all in German, and I actually understood everything - for some reason Opa is easier for me to understand than the others, and is more patient with me when I do struggle), and we bonded. He revisited their old family farm in Poland last year, from which his family was evicted during the war when he was a child, and promised me to show me some photos if I pay him a visit for coffee soon. I´m actually really excited about this, and realized how much I really miss special visits to my own grandparents - flipping through old family photos and listening to stories over coffee and cake.
Well now, I should bring this to a close. Sorry this post is kind of unimpressive and not well pieced together. I´ll try to improve next time - maybe finally with photos?
All the best.
On this same train I found an abandoned purse. Remembering my own wallet disaster on this very same train, and our eventual reunion (even though there was only one cent left when I finally got it back!), it felt nice to be able to take this purse under wing and safely deliver it to the information booth in Kiel. Sort of a way to pay back the mysterious kind soul who returned my own wallet last month. Maybe "pay it forward" works after all - who knows. Why not humor idealism for a bit? :)
After a shamelessly lazy weekend, my Monday began with a bit of a whirlwind. I stayed up ridiculously late last night with the intention of napping while the children were in school today. Of course, today Emmi woke with a sore neck and Claudia told me to keep her home from Kindergarten... no nap for me today, should have known better. Mondays are very long to begin with, as I leave directly from shuttling Paul Luis to chess lessons in the afternoon for my train (no matter how well I plan ahead I always end up sprinting to catch this train!) to the community German night class in Kiel. By the time I get back to Bordesholm, it is dark and the day is over. As usual, though, I expect the week to fly and I´ll have another lazy weekend at my disposal soon enough. I did make an attempt last weekend to be a bit more social, and had fun going dancing with my Swedish friend Kristin at a club that is built like an old ship. But for some reason I really have very little desire to get out with friends lately. I´ve been at my happiest simply riding my bike alone, taking walks, painting and sketching, working in the garden, reading new books, "knitting" (I get to about 8 rows and start over again with no direction, as it is too warm to make scarves and I don´t really know how to make anything else, nor do I have the initiative to try to learn complicated new stitches). I am so ancient, but for some reason I need this right now. It will probably pass soon enough as I get restless, but I´ll admit that it feels good to try to save a bit of money and have time to sort of be "inside" of my self for the time being.
Friday my host parents threw a big neighborhood Maifest garden party to celebrate the start of the new month and changing season. Around 30-40 people arrived, mostly their friends and children. I actually knew some of the parents of the children better than Claudia and Torsten! The setting led to some kind of awkward small talk attempts on my part, and I busied myself with keeping wood on the fires and cooking rosemary potatoes. I was relieved when the grandfather, Opa Lothar arrived. He also felt out of place, I think, and joined me by the fire. After a while he shared war stories and some of his tragic family history (all in German, and I actually understood everything - for some reason Opa is easier for me to understand than the others, and is more patient with me when I do struggle), and we bonded. He revisited their old family farm in Poland last year, from which his family was evicted during the war when he was a child, and promised me to show me some photos if I pay him a visit for coffee soon. I´m actually really excited about this, and realized how much I really miss special visits to my own grandparents - flipping through old family photos and listening to stories over coffee and cake.
Well now, I should bring this to a close. Sorry this post is kind of unimpressive and not well pieced together. I´ll try to improve next time - maybe finally with photos?
All the best.
Saturday, April 25, 2009
By popular demand:
At long last I am going to take on this epic challenge to describe Miriam and my holiday of Irish wayfaring. I´ll warn in advance that this will be a record post length... you might want to read it in small chunks. Or not at all. I´ll even break it into "chapters" for you, if it helps. As you know, being concise is not a strength of mine, but I´ll do my best to eliminate unnecessary details. Mostly I want to include as much as possible simply for my own documenting purposes. My "journal" from the trip consists of incoherent rambles and choppy lists, and I´d like to have a better record for myself. Please excuse all that is to follow... If you´re really up to the challenge, be sure to boil yourself a pot of tea or something first. Maybe keep some snacks on hand. :)
I´ll start with the weekend before our trip. Miriam arrived early in the evening on Friday, April 3, on the most beautiful day of the year so far. She came just in time for my self-indulgent garden grilling party. The event combined the celebration of my 23rd birthday with Miriam´s welcome and my dear Anna and Nanna´s farewells. It was a small group. In addition to Miriam, Anna, and Nanna, I invited friends Sam, Kristin, Milena, and Jose from Kiel, neighbor Harry and his housemates, and the host family came by for a couple hours to grill with us. It was a bizarre but nice combination of people! I was mixing parts of my past college life with random new friends, language classmate, fellow au pairs, family, and neighbors. With less than 10-15 people, we represented parts of the U.S., Sweden, Finland, England, Kiel, and Bordesholm. I think Torsten was more excited about the party than I was, and surprised me by buying loads of meat and a variety of beverage options. It was thoughtful, but he kind of went too far and was really obsessive about grilling and presenting everything perfectly, with the appropriate condiments and cutlery. I´m used to casual, unimpressive, and informal grilling, but never really felt like I could relax until after he left! The thought was sweet, though, and to be honest if I had tried to do everything myself people might have gone hungry or something... But the weather could not have been more perfect, and we sat around the fire roasting marshmallows (apparently not common in Germany - they don´t know s´mores!!), sharing stories, and listening to music until well past midnight. The next morning I said goodbyes to Nanna and Anna, and then Miriam and I had the next couple days to polish "plans" for Ireland. We also found time to ride bikes to the moor, watch Steel Magnolias, go shopping in Kiel, and celebrate my birthday with the host family by eating a big birthday breakfast, going to a historical village, followed by tea and cakes and the German birthday song accompanied by Opa Lothar´s legendary harmonica.
Part One: Off on the wrong foot
The beginning of our journey probably could have involved a bit less anxiety. We left bright and early for the Kiel station Monday, April 6 to catch a train to Lübeck, where we´d then take a bus to the airport. Simple enough, right? Our train from Bordesholm was several minutes late, so when we got to Kiel we only had a couple minutes to make the transfer. I told Miriam to jump on the train and hold the door for me as I bought our tickets. Of course before the machine finished printing our tickets, I saw the doors close solidly as the train pulled away with Miriam inside, as I ran screaming (yes, I was that crazy person) alongside until the platform ended. There is only one train to Lübeck per hour, and we were already nervous about arriving at the airport in time for our flight. Now might be a good time to mention that neither Miriam nor I own a mobile phone... something we´d both resent many times during the week. Somehow I´ve survived 8 months in Germany quite happily (despite complaints from my friends in Kiel) without a phone, but it certainly would have been helpful during our trip. Na ja, this is character building stuff, right? My only option was to sit in the station for an agonizing hour until the next train, with hopes that I´d find Miriam at the station in Lübeck. After another hour by train, I arrived to find no trace of my friend. The next move was to find a bus to the airport. I arrived feeling quite dazed and hopeless in the terminal, again with no signs of my Miriam. I decided to get in the check-in line to see if they´d seen her yet, when I noticed a familiar form sitting by the vending machines. I stopped in my tracks, said her name, and cannot describe our ecstatic relief to be reunited at long last! After a few more complications with American visa stamps and such (c´mon RyanAir...), we settled happily into our seats on the plane and decided that it was good to get the stressful part of the trip out of the way in the beginning, and it would be smooth sailing from there on out! For the most part, we were right! I would have changed very little about the rest of our trip.
Arrival: Dublin
Taking a friend´s advice, the first thing we did when we arrived in Dublin was take a city bus to the centre. We stepped out, ate at a fish ´n chips place, and wandered the city. To be honest, Dublin was not our favorite city in the world, but we spent the next two days content in wandering around, talking to art gallery, thrift store, and antique shop workers, walking through colorful parks and buildings that were certainly filled with historical significance (we weren´t responsible historians during this trip...), attempting to find good music at pubs, and spending a mediocre night in an alley hostel. We decided we could only expect to find tourist-driven industries in the Temble Bar district, but didn´t know the city well enough to find the gems. We decided at this point to test out the couch-surfing network and contact a potential host in Dun Laoghaire, just south of Dublin and very near to our car rental place. It was settled, and our experience began to improve significantly from this point forward. We had a great time talking, solving crosswords, and making music with our hosts in Dun Laoghaire. We decided we all felt like comfortable old friends, and were very happy with the first of several successful couch surfing experiences. Forget hotels and hostels! My mode of traveling will never be the same again, and I can´t wait to return everyone´s generosity by hosting travelers myself someday when I have a place of my own.
The Rental Car:
After being 23 for only a couple days, I was allowed to drive a rental car. Our trusty Lonely Planet guide book highly recommended driving, as buses can be complicated and hitchhiking, while still quite safe in Ireland, is not always reliable or efficient. After the first hour of terror, driving on the left with the steering wheel and turn signal on the right, and getting a bit lost, Miriam safely navigated me out of the stressful city of Dublin and out onto those beautiful open motorways. Her dependable navigation, subtle driving tips ("Kate... don´t panic, but maybe you should get on the other side of the road..."), words of encouragement and undeserved driving compliments were so incredibly helpful in my driving confidence. Such a dear! It could not have been easy to be in that passenger seat. I was actually surprised at how comfortable I was with driving in Ireland by the end of the week. We worked our way north through pastoral scenic routes, taking frequent picnics and breaks to enjoy the flora and fauna. The sheep are mostly there for tourists, we later learned. Even the guide books says "for some reason Americans love taking photos of the sheep...," so I resisted this temptation (for the most part), but my heart still warms when I think of those baby lambs bounding up the hills!. And of course just when we thought things surely couldn´t become more idyllic, a rainbow would appear! Completely unnecessary. Oh Ireland... just too much. We drove through Belfast and up to the north coast to take in Giant´s Causeway before dusk. It was stunning, to say the least. We hated to leave, but wanted to finish the drive to our next couch-surfing host in Limavedy before it became too dark. Our host Nathalie was middle-aged, lived alone in a little pink house, and had some very interesting life stories. She was born in Paris, and has lived many years in various parts of Africa and Europe, with plans to move soon to Norway with her daughter. We had the impression that she was a kind of sad and isolated person, but she was very kind, making us tea and helping us feel most welcomed. She recommended that we stop through Donegal the next day - advice we were happy to take! Once again, let me preach how amazing the couch-surfing network is. Not only did we happily receive local insight and advice, save money, and at all times felt 100% safe and welcomed, but our experience was so enriched making new friends and connections, and feeling that we left bits of ourselves at each place rather than just "passing though." I highly recommend this to everyone. Obviously one has to be careful depending on where and how they are traveling, but after my experiences it just makes me feel good about humanity again, and I like being able to choose to live that way.
To the West:
We left early the next morning, with flexible goals to pass through Donegal and reach Galway by nightfall. We took some quiet, narrow and winding routes through the spectacular (Miriam and I tired of saying "wow" and "beautiful" all the time and challenged ourselves to increase our "gorgeous" and "breathtaking" vocabulary categories!) Blue Stack and Derryweagh mountains. They were unexpected - rugged and rocky red and purple hills with dark woody bushes displaying vibrant yellow blossoms. Behind the fog and light rain, it all felt so surreal, almost of another world. I appreciate the typical "green fields" of Ireland that you find on calendars, but found that the more rugged landscapes were my favorite. Thankfully we had to drive quite slow, because I was too distracted by the scenery to commit all my attention to the road! Without a proper radio, Miriam and I had started to teach each other old and new songs, inventing new harmonies and changing some cheesy verses to better suit ourselves. A couple songs became very important to us, and this part of our trip was completely unexpected but very fulfilling. I sense that this will be a part of our friendship that we will remember fondly someday. At one point in the mountains, we noticed a tire leaking air and stopped in a remote village to ask for help. There a man kindly opened his garage to refill our tire, and told us that tourists only stop through his town if they´re lost or need help. I guess we fit into that 2nd category... We offered to pay for his services, to which he replied "don´t be daft! Just keep an eye out for those kamikaze sheep" - advice well heeded! They were everywhere on those little roads, and seemed to deliberately reject the function of fences. We continued through the rain to find St. Columbcille´s well and to see some fascinating examples of sacred stones that blurred the lines between paganism and Christianity. The roads became questionable, and soon felt more like steep bike paths. Eventually the "road" became a few scattered stones on a steep grassy hill, and we abandoned the car to sludge through the slippery grass and rocks to find the well. It was ill-marked and strange, with a random collection of religious tokens that made little sense to us. But the view was spectacular, and we didn´t regret the journey at all. However by this point we realized how ambitious and impossible our goal to reach Galway was for that day. With it being too late to arrange a couch-surfing plan, we checked into a nice hostel (White House) in Sligo. There we met Nadja from Switzerland, and found some incredible traditional music in a little pub. It was very relaxed and unpretentious, with a few people sitting around a table informally playing music together. I talked with a delightfully crass old man at the bar, who sang me an old song about Kansas City. I wish I could have stayed there for hours, but we were quite exhausted from the day´s events and soon retired back to the hostel for some well-deserved shut eye.
And South:
The next morning we offered to give Nadja, who was also bound for Galway, a ride in our car. It was kind of fun to have a new person along, and we were happy to see her experience the fun little roads and flexibility we´d been experiencing all week, rather than boring bus routes. We drove through the lovely Westport and stopped in the Connemara National Park for a hike and picnic (interrupted by a freakish hail storm), then arrived at a little Coral Beach at the tip of a small secluded peninsula. Here our car battery temporarily stalled, and we had to seek help from some locals. This proved to be more complicated than we thought, as it turned out to be an old Gaelic-speaking peninsula (I think this village was called Spiddle?) and everything was closed on Good Friday. People were friendly and helpful, and soon our car recovered itself and we were shortly on the road again after a few minutes of panic. After another couple of stressful hours in Galway, helping Nadja find lodging and having car problems again, we decided to go ahead and drive further South to Doolin, a village recommended to us by our first host. We had no lodging arranged for ourselves, and decided to simply camp out in our car for the night. Not ideal, but nice to have as an option. The plan started out happily, as we hiked out in the dark to the rocky beach and watched the full moon rise above the cliffs. As we settled in to the car, however, we soon came to regret the decision. Even after layering every article of clothing I had brought along, I couldn´t feel my toes and didn´t sleep a wink the entire night. I was willing the sun to rise just so we could draw some solar warmth and go find some coffee and breakfast! At long last morning arrived, and after some gate barrier issues we were the first to leave the campgrounds. Our mission to find food and gasoline proved to be more difficult than expected, as most people in Doolin and surrounding villages don´t rise until late. No shops were open until 9:30 or 10. Finally we treated ourselves to hearty Irish breakfasts at a tea shop (the woman must have thought we were starving, which was kind of true after sustaining on mostly rye cracker and mustard picnics for the last couple days) and visited a little local craft fair happening down the street. We checked into the Ailee River hostel early after noon and were so impressed with the place! The building itself was just incredible, as it was an old farm/boarding house from the 1600s with a beautiful full kitchen, free laundry and internet, and spotless sunny bedrooms and bathrooms. We expressed interest in seeing the Cliffs of Moher, and the friendly owner Karl sketched us a detailed hiking map that would take us along the edge the entire way. It was one of our best experiences of the week! A couple parts made us nervous, but the sights were exhilarating to say the least. The hike turned into a many-hour-long excursion, and at the end we climbed over the fence to the tourist look-out spot, completely winded and a bit sunburned. I´ll admit that I felt very smug as we realized that the spot from which all the other tourists (arriving in droves by buses) could view the cliffs was nothing at all in comparison to everything we had just seen! I guess there are just some things in life you have to really work for to enjoy, and I am so glad that we could experience that! After stopping by a nice little local jam shop (and shamelessly drawing sweet calories from the jar with our fingers in proper Cold Mountain Ada form as we walked back!) we returned to the hostel exhausted. We ventured out again in Doolin, where we shared a nice supper at a pub with a friendly old couple from Cork named Joel and Irene. Beautiful traditional music followed, but with it being a holiday the pub was far too crowded and we decided to leave after just a few songs. It was a pity because we really liked the place and the music was phenomenal, but it had already been a long day and the previous sleepless night was catching up with us.
Easter Sunday:
We left the hostel early the next morning to return our rental car, happily accepting Cadbury eggs from the basket left by Karl at the door. On our way to Dublin we decided to celebrate the day in some form and tried to remember some old Easter-related songs from childhood Sunday services. As we´d forgotten most words, we put on some humorous and exaggerated renditions of what should have been solemn, well-intended hymns! If only we´d had some giant hats with flowers... and smelled of lavender musk. We realized our route took us right past Edenderry, a town from which my Grandpa Applegate´s grandmother Margaret McAvoy came. We decided to stop through and took a few photos. I should have taken some dirt or a stone or something, but didn´t think of it as were were already late to return the rental car. Someday I´d like to return when I can commit more time to research some parish records and such. Finally back in Dublin, we reluctantly returned our trusty car and kissed it goodbye. Exhausted, we wandered into the UCD campus park, took a nap in the grass, and made a patchwork picnic leftover from our days on the road. We wandered the city and park a bit more, then returned that evening to Dun Laoghaire to our same old host-friends from the beginning of the trip. We had a fun evening out with the whole family, and the next day was nice and relaxed. Despite the rain we went down to Wicklow see a beautiful lake below a steep hill/cliff (I forgot the name of this place), had tea at a peace and reconciliation center, then returned to cook a nice roast and vegetables and watch an intense film about the Irish hunger strikes. It was a chill and satisfying way to end our trip, and I slept like a rock that night - missing our alarm! After a panicked late start, Conor kindly drove us to the airport and we arrived just in time for the flight. Whew!
I now find myself back in Bordesholm. I´ll be honest in that it took me a while to resettle myself here and find contentment. In fact I´m still working on it. After being high all week on the independence of traveling, being reunited with Miriam after not seeing each other for nearly a year, and having no cares at all in the world, it was a harsh adjustment to know that it was just a short holiday, and that the "real world" was still waiting for me. Now I´m working back into my old routine, and things are starting to look up again. It helps that the weather has been beautiful. Spring arrived while we were gone, and I never tire of walking through Bordesholm´s abundant cherry and magnolia-blossomed trees. Right now out my window I see trees and bushes with purple, white, pink, yellow, red, and every shade of green. There is a lot to distract myself with now - this morning I walked to the farmers market for honey, apples, and kohlrabi starter plants, bought some yarn, and have been continuing my fruitless job search for the fall. My gardens keep me very busy - I´m almost obsessive about it. Even so, I keep finding myself dreamily remembering our week in Ireland as if it was yesterday. There is hardly anything at all I would have changed; our self-made itinerary was just perfect (we should write to Lonely Planet)! The trip was good for me in so many ways. Not only was I in dire need of a break, but it gave me a chance to feel completely confident and independent in many unexpected new ways. In fact, I almost felt like I developed more as a person in that week than I have in an entire year in Germany. This probably isn´t true at all, as it is difficult to notice subtle but significant changes over the course of a year. Who knows. Of one thing I´m sure. A week was not enough at all, and I have a feeling that I´m not completely done with my time in Ireland yet - I´m not exactly sure what, but I think there could still be more for me there. Maybe I´m just humoring myself, but I would seriously look into returning someday for several months as part of a work-away or volunteer program. I´m sure everyone says things like this after a vacation where they felt a strong connection to the place, but I can let myself dream a bit, right? If someone were to tell me that a year or two from now I´d be refurbishing an old farm, pulling weeds, or something in Ireland, I would not at all be surprised.
I´ve had many special experiences with my host family this year - the sea in Denmark, the cozy cottage in the Harz, etc., but my week with Miriam in Ireland was by far the most liberating and genuinely happy week of my year. It was so nice to be with a familiar friend who knows me so well, and I miss her terribly! I have a new energy now to make plans for this Fall to return to old friends and family in the Midwest. I have no idea how I´ll make a living, where I´ll live, etc., but these things have always had ways of working out before. I can´t let myself be too naive or carefree, but I have to believe things will work out or all of the questions and uncertainties will make me crazy! In the meantime, I´m going to do everything I can to draw as much as possible from my last few months here in Germany. On that note... maybe I should at long last bring this post to a close, and try to enjoy the rest of this sunny Saturday!
For any of you who have lasted this far, good work! I am impressed, and you have my most sincere apologies. I solemnly promise that future posts will never be this long again.
Cheers!
I´ll start with the weekend before our trip. Miriam arrived early in the evening on Friday, April 3, on the most beautiful day of the year so far. She came just in time for my self-indulgent garden grilling party. The event combined the celebration of my 23rd birthday with Miriam´s welcome and my dear Anna and Nanna´s farewells. It was a small group. In addition to Miriam, Anna, and Nanna, I invited friends Sam, Kristin, Milena, and Jose from Kiel, neighbor Harry and his housemates, and the host family came by for a couple hours to grill with us. It was a bizarre but nice combination of people! I was mixing parts of my past college life with random new friends, language classmate, fellow au pairs, family, and neighbors. With less than 10-15 people, we represented parts of the U.S., Sweden, Finland, England, Kiel, and Bordesholm. I think Torsten was more excited about the party than I was, and surprised me by buying loads of meat and a variety of beverage options. It was thoughtful, but he kind of went too far and was really obsessive about grilling and presenting everything perfectly, with the appropriate condiments and cutlery. I´m used to casual, unimpressive, and informal grilling, but never really felt like I could relax until after he left! The thought was sweet, though, and to be honest if I had tried to do everything myself people might have gone hungry or something... But the weather could not have been more perfect, and we sat around the fire roasting marshmallows (apparently not common in Germany - they don´t know s´mores!!), sharing stories, and listening to music until well past midnight. The next morning I said goodbyes to Nanna and Anna, and then Miriam and I had the next couple days to polish "plans" for Ireland. We also found time to ride bikes to the moor, watch Steel Magnolias, go shopping in Kiel, and celebrate my birthday with the host family by eating a big birthday breakfast, going to a historical village, followed by tea and cakes and the German birthday song accompanied by Opa Lothar´s legendary harmonica.
Part One: Off on the wrong foot
The beginning of our journey probably could have involved a bit less anxiety. We left bright and early for the Kiel station Monday, April 6 to catch a train to Lübeck, where we´d then take a bus to the airport. Simple enough, right? Our train from Bordesholm was several minutes late, so when we got to Kiel we only had a couple minutes to make the transfer. I told Miriam to jump on the train and hold the door for me as I bought our tickets. Of course before the machine finished printing our tickets, I saw the doors close solidly as the train pulled away with Miriam inside, as I ran screaming (yes, I was that crazy person) alongside until the platform ended. There is only one train to Lübeck per hour, and we were already nervous about arriving at the airport in time for our flight. Now might be a good time to mention that neither Miriam nor I own a mobile phone... something we´d both resent many times during the week. Somehow I´ve survived 8 months in Germany quite happily (despite complaints from my friends in Kiel) without a phone, but it certainly would have been helpful during our trip. Na ja, this is character building stuff, right? My only option was to sit in the station for an agonizing hour until the next train, with hopes that I´d find Miriam at the station in Lübeck. After another hour by train, I arrived to find no trace of my friend. The next move was to find a bus to the airport. I arrived feeling quite dazed and hopeless in the terminal, again with no signs of my Miriam. I decided to get in the check-in line to see if they´d seen her yet, when I noticed a familiar form sitting by the vending machines. I stopped in my tracks, said her name, and cannot describe our ecstatic relief to be reunited at long last! After a few more complications with American visa stamps and such (c´mon RyanAir...), we settled happily into our seats on the plane and decided that it was good to get the stressful part of the trip out of the way in the beginning, and it would be smooth sailing from there on out! For the most part, we were right! I would have changed very little about the rest of our trip.
Arrival: Dublin
Taking a friend´s advice, the first thing we did when we arrived in Dublin was take a city bus to the centre. We stepped out, ate at a fish ´n chips place, and wandered the city. To be honest, Dublin was not our favorite city in the world, but we spent the next two days content in wandering around, talking to art gallery, thrift store, and antique shop workers, walking through colorful parks and buildings that were certainly filled with historical significance (we weren´t responsible historians during this trip...), attempting to find good music at pubs, and spending a mediocre night in an alley hostel. We decided we could only expect to find tourist-driven industries in the Temble Bar district, but didn´t know the city well enough to find the gems. We decided at this point to test out the couch-surfing network and contact a potential host in Dun Laoghaire, just south of Dublin and very near to our car rental place. It was settled, and our experience began to improve significantly from this point forward. We had a great time talking, solving crosswords, and making music with our hosts in Dun Laoghaire. We decided we all felt like comfortable old friends, and were very happy with the first of several successful couch surfing experiences. Forget hotels and hostels! My mode of traveling will never be the same again, and I can´t wait to return everyone´s generosity by hosting travelers myself someday when I have a place of my own.
The Rental Car:
After being 23 for only a couple days, I was allowed to drive a rental car. Our trusty Lonely Planet guide book highly recommended driving, as buses can be complicated and hitchhiking, while still quite safe in Ireland, is not always reliable or efficient. After the first hour of terror, driving on the left with the steering wheel and turn signal on the right, and getting a bit lost, Miriam safely navigated me out of the stressful city of Dublin and out onto those beautiful open motorways. Her dependable navigation, subtle driving tips ("Kate... don´t panic, but maybe you should get on the other side of the road..."), words of encouragement and undeserved driving compliments were so incredibly helpful in my driving confidence. Such a dear! It could not have been easy to be in that passenger seat. I was actually surprised at how comfortable I was with driving in Ireland by the end of the week. We worked our way north through pastoral scenic routes, taking frequent picnics and breaks to enjoy the flora and fauna. The sheep are mostly there for tourists, we later learned. Even the guide books says "for some reason Americans love taking photos of the sheep...," so I resisted this temptation (for the most part), but my heart still warms when I think of those baby lambs bounding up the hills!. And of course just when we thought things surely couldn´t become more idyllic, a rainbow would appear! Completely unnecessary. Oh Ireland... just too much. We drove through Belfast and up to the north coast to take in Giant´s Causeway before dusk. It was stunning, to say the least. We hated to leave, but wanted to finish the drive to our next couch-surfing host in Limavedy before it became too dark. Our host Nathalie was middle-aged, lived alone in a little pink house, and had some very interesting life stories. She was born in Paris, and has lived many years in various parts of Africa and Europe, with plans to move soon to Norway with her daughter. We had the impression that she was a kind of sad and isolated person, but she was very kind, making us tea and helping us feel most welcomed. She recommended that we stop through Donegal the next day - advice we were happy to take! Once again, let me preach how amazing the couch-surfing network is. Not only did we happily receive local insight and advice, save money, and at all times felt 100% safe and welcomed, but our experience was so enriched making new friends and connections, and feeling that we left bits of ourselves at each place rather than just "passing though." I highly recommend this to everyone. Obviously one has to be careful depending on where and how they are traveling, but after my experiences it just makes me feel good about humanity again, and I like being able to choose to live that way.
To the West:
We left early the next morning, with flexible goals to pass through Donegal and reach Galway by nightfall. We took some quiet, narrow and winding routes through the spectacular (Miriam and I tired of saying "wow" and "beautiful" all the time and challenged ourselves to increase our "gorgeous" and "breathtaking" vocabulary categories!) Blue Stack and Derryweagh mountains. They were unexpected - rugged and rocky red and purple hills with dark woody bushes displaying vibrant yellow blossoms. Behind the fog and light rain, it all felt so surreal, almost of another world. I appreciate the typical "green fields" of Ireland that you find on calendars, but found that the more rugged landscapes were my favorite. Thankfully we had to drive quite slow, because I was too distracted by the scenery to commit all my attention to the road! Without a proper radio, Miriam and I had started to teach each other old and new songs, inventing new harmonies and changing some cheesy verses to better suit ourselves. A couple songs became very important to us, and this part of our trip was completely unexpected but very fulfilling. I sense that this will be a part of our friendship that we will remember fondly someday. At one point in the mountains, we noticed a tire leaking air and stopped in a remote village to ask for help. There a man kindly opened his garage to refill our tire, and told us that tourists only stop through his town if they´re lost or need help. I guess we fit into that 2nd category... We offered to pay for his services, to which he replied "don´t be daft! Just keep an eye out for those kamikaze sheep" - advice well heeded! They were everywhere on those little roads, and seemed to deliberately reject the function of fences. We continued through the rain to find St. Columbcille´s well and to see some fascinating examples of sacred stones that blurred the lines between paganism and Christianity. The roads became questionable, and soon felt more like steep bike paths. Eventually the "road" became a few scattered stones on a steep grassy hill, and we abandoned the car to sludge through the slippery grass and rocks to find the well. It was ill-marked and strange, with a random collection of religious tokens that made little sense to us. But the view was spectacular, and we didn´t regret the journey at all. However by this point we realized how ambitious and impossible our goal to reach Galway was for that day. With it being too late to arrange a couch-surfing plan, we checked into a nice hostel (White House) in Sligo. There we met Nadja from Switzerland, and found some incredible traditional music in a little pub. It was very relaxed and unpretentious, with a few people sitting around a table informally playing music together. I talked with a delightfully crass old man at the bar, who sang me an old song about Kansas City. I wish I could have stayed there for hours, but we were quite exhausted from the day´s events and soon retired back to the hostel for some well-deserved shut eye.
And South:
The next morning we offered to give Nadja, who was also bound for Galway, a ride in our car. It was kind of fun to have a new person along, and we were happy to see her experience the fun little roads and flexibility we´d been experiencing all week, rather than boring bus routes. We drove through the lovely Westport and stopped in the Connemara National Park for a hike and picnic (interrupted by a freakish hail storm), then arrived at a little Coral Beach at the tip of a small secluded peninsula. Here our car battery temporarily stalled, and we had to seek help from some locals. This proved to be more complicated than we thought, as it turned out to be an old Gaelic-speaking peninsula (I think this village was called Spiddle?) and everything was closed on Good Friday. People were friendly and helpful, and soon our car recovered itself and we were shortly on the road again after a few minutes of panic. After another couple of stressful hours in Galway, helping Nadja find lodging and having car problems again, we decided to go ahead and drive further South to Doolin, a village recommended to us by our first host. We had no lodging arranged for ourselves, and decided to simply camp out in our car for the night. Not ideal, but nice to have as an option. The plan started out happily, as we hiked out in the dark to the rocky beach and watched the full moon rise above the cliffs. As we settled in to the car, however, we soon came to regret the decision. Even after layering every article of clothing I had brought along, I couldn´t feel my toes and didn´t sleep a wink the entire night. I was willing the sun to rise just so we could draw some solar warmth and go find some coffee and breakfast! At long last morning arrived, and after some gate barrier issues we were the first to leave the campgrounds. Our mission to find food and gasoline proved to be more difficult than expected, as most people in Doolin and surrounding villages don´t rise until late. No shops were open until 9:30 or 10. Finally we treated ourselves to hearty Irish breakfasts at a tea shop (the woman must have thought we were starving, which was kind of true after sustaining on mostly rye cracker and mustard picnics for the last couple days) and visited a little local craft fair happening down the street. We checked into the Ailee River hostel early after noon and were so impressed with the place! The building itself was just incredible, as it was an old farm/boarding house from the 1600s with a beautiful full kitchen, free laundry and internet, and spotless sunny bedrooms and bathrooms. We expressed interest in seeing the Cliffs of Moher, and the friendly owner Karl sketched us a detailed hiking map that would take us along the edge the entire way. It was one of our best experiences of the week! A couple parts made us nervous, but the sights were exhilarating to say the least. The hike turned into a many-hour-long excursion, and at the end we climbed over the fence to the tourist look-out spot, completely winded and a bit sunburned. I´ll admit that I felt very smug as we realized that the spot from which all the other tourists (arriving in droves by buses) could view the cliffs was nothing at all in comparison to everything we had just seen! I guess there are just some things in life you have to really work for to enjoy, and I am so glad that we could experience that! After stopping by a nice little local jam shop (and shamelessly drawing sweet calories from the jar with our fingers in proper Cold Mountain Ada form as we walked back!) we returned to the hostel exhausted. We ventured out again in Doolin, where we shared a nice supper at a pub with a friendly old couple from Cork named Joel and Irene. Beautiful traditional music followed, but with it being a holiday the pub was far too crowded and we decided to leave after just a few songs. It was a pity because we really liked the place and the music was phenomenal, but it had already been a long day and the previous sleepless night was catching up with us.
Easter Sunday:
We left the hostel early the next morning to return our rental car, happily accepting Cadbury eggs from the basket left by Karl at the door. On our way to Dublin we decided to celebrate the day in some form and tried to remember some old Easter-related songs from childhood Sunday services. As we´d forgotten most words, we put on some humorous and exaggerated renditions of what should have been solemn, well-intended hymns! If only we´d had some giant hats with flowers... and smelled of lavender musk. We realized our route took us right past Edenderry, a town from which my Grandpa Applegate´s grandmother Margaret McAvoy came. We decided to stop through and took a few photos. I should have taken some dirt or a stone or something, but didn´t think of it as were were already late to return the rental car. Someday I´d like to return when I can commit more time to research some parish records and such. Finally back in Dublin, we reluctantly returned our trusty car and kissed it goodbye. Exhausted, we wandered into the UCD campus park, took a nap in the grass, and made a patchwork picnic leftover from our days on the road. We wandered the city and park a bit more, then returned that evening to Dun Laoghaire to our same old host-friends from the beginning of the trip. We had a fun evening out with the whole family, and the next day was nice and relaxed. Despite the rain we went down to Wicklow see a beautiful lake below a steep hill/cliff (I forgot the name of this place), had tea at a peace and reconciliation center, then returned to cook a nice roast and vegetables and watch an intense film about the Irish hunger strikes. It was a chill and satisfying way to end our trip, and I slept like a rock that night - missing our alarm! After a panicked late start, Conor kindly drove us to the airport and we arrived just in time for the flight. Whew!
I now find myself back in Bordesholm. I´ll be honest in that it took me a while to resettle myself here and find contentment. In fact I´m still working on it. After being high all week on the independence of traveling, being reunited with Miriam after not seeing each other for nearly a year, and having no cares at all in the world, it was a harsh adjustment to know that it was just a short holiday, and that the "real world" was still waiting for me. Now I´m working back into my old routine, and things are starting to look up again. It helps that the weather has been beautiful. Spring arrived while we were gone, and I never tire of walking through Bordesholm´s abundant cherry and magnolia-blossomed trees. Right now out my window I see trees and bushes with purple, white, pink, yellow, red, and every shade of green. There is a lot to distract myself with now - this morning I walked to the farmers market for honey, apples, and kohlrabi starter plants, bought some yarn, and have been continuing my fruitless job search for the fall. My gardens keep me very busy - I´m almost obsessive about it. Even so, I keep finding myself dreamily remembering our week in Ireland as if it was yesterday. There is hardly anything at all I would have changed; our self-made itinerary was just perfect (we should write to Lonely Planet)! The trip was good for me in so many ways. Not only was I in dire need of a break, but it gave me a chance to feel completely confident and independent in many unexpected new ways. In fact, I almost felt like I developed more as a person in that week than I have in an entire year in Germany. This probably isn´t true at all, as it is difficult to notice subtle but significant changes over the course of a year. Who knows. Of one thing I´m sure. A week was not enough at all, and I have a feeling that I´m not completely done with my time in Ireland yet - I´m not exactly sure what, but I think there could still be more for me there. Maybe I´m just humoring myself, but I would seriously look into returning someday for several months as part of a work-away or volunteer program. I´m sure everyone says things like this after a vacation where they felt a strong connection to the place, but I can let myself dream a bit, right? If someone were to tell me that a year or two from now I´d be refurbishing an old farm, pulling weeds, or something in Ireland, I would not at all be surprised.
I´ve had many special experiences with my host family this year - the sea in Denmark, the cozy cottage in the Harz, etc., but my week with Miriam in Ireland was by far the most liberating and genuinely happy week of my year. It was so nice to be with a familiar friend who knows me so well, and I miss her terribly! I have a new energy now to make plans for this Fall to return to old friends and family in the Midwest. I have no idea how I´ll make a living, where I´ll live, etc., but these things have always had ways of working out before. I can´t let myself be too naive or carefree, but I have to believe things will work out or all of the questions and uncertainties will make me crazy! In the meantime, I´m going to do everything I can to draw as much as possible from my last few months here in Germany. On that note... maybe I should at long last bring this post to a close, and try to enjoy the rest of this sunny Saturday!
For any of you who have lasted this far, good work! I am impressed, and you have my most sincere apologies. I solemnly promise that future posts will never be this long again.
Cheers!
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Ireland
I know folks have been awaiting this post for quite some time. I apologize in advance for the disappointment that will follow now. I´m not going to give a summary of my trip just yet. But know that it is coming soon! In the meantime, I´m posting some music that played an important role in Miriam and my road trip. Enjoy!
Thursday, March 26, 2009
one week.
In just one week, I will be hosting a birthday party for myself in my garden. We will make a campfire, cook wurst and marshmallow, and have a good time. I plan to invite my host family and close friends in the area. Most importantly, Miriam will be arriving!!! My long-lost and loved mod-mate. A couple other old friends from Bethel might make it, too, if possible. The party will be bittersweet, as I will also be saying good-bye to my best friends in Germany, Anna and Nanna. They are returning to England and Finland, and my life here will be so strange and empty without them. I have a feeling I´ll fill my time with more bike-riding, gardening, and hopefully painting. It is possible that I´ll make new friends, but it is also getting a bit too late in the year to make any connections as solid as ours. I am so thankful that they´re leaving as the weather begins to warm, though. It will make the transition easier, as I´ll have some outdoor activities with which to occupy my time. I would have been severely depressed to find myself alone and without a social life during the dark months of January or February.
Following the garden house party, Miriam will stay with me for a couple days. I am so excited to play "tour-guide" and show her my local haunts, beloved nooks and countrysides. It is also strangely necessary for me to have someone from back home witness me living here. I´m not sure why, but I need this. Maybe just to prove that I can survive somewhere outside Kansas, get around, speak a new language, be responsible, and be happy. I´m not really sure.
Monday, April 6 (day after my birthday) begins my Easter holiday, and Miriam and I will depart from Lübeck for Ireland! We will only be able to stay one week, but I cannot contain my excitement. Going to Ireland has been a dream of mine for so long, and it will be so incredible to spend it with such a good friend. We really need to start making some tentative plans, but don´t want the trip to be too stressful with an overloaded itinerary. Public transportation in Ireland isn´t the best, so we might be renting a car instead of worrying ourselves with confusing and limited bus schedules. This makes sense, but I´ll admit that driving on the left side of the road makes me nervous... oh well. It will be good for us, right? We´re also both REALLY limited with our budgets, so we´re going to do couch-surfing (free!!) instead of booking hostels or hotels. At first this made me a bit uncomfortable, but I´m a member now of a couch surfing online network, and it is very safe. You can choose to stay with fun, young students in a flat, families of all sorts, old couples in their cozy homes - anyone! It also enhances the traveling experience, as the hosts love meeting new people and are happy to give local insight - even provide meals! I think this decision is going to reward us in several unexpected and fulfilling ways! It will be nice to feel like we´ve made some connections everywhere we visit, as well.
Just one week. My life will be quite different in a week.
Following the garden house party, Miriam will stay with me for a couple days. I am so excited to play "tour-guide" and show her my local haunts, beloved nooks and countrysides. It is also strangely necessary for me to have someone from back home witness me living here. I´m not sure why, but I need this. Maybe just to prove that I can survive somewhere outside Kansas, get around, speak a new language, be responsible, and be happy. I´m not really sure.
Monday, April 6 (day after my birthday) begins my Easter holiday, and Miriam and I will depart from Lübeck for Ireland! We will only be able to stay one week, but I cannot contain my excitement. Going to Ireland has been a dream of mine for so long, and it will be so incredible to spend it with such a good friend. We really need to start making some tentative plans, but don´t want the trip to be too stressful with an overloaded itinerary. Public transportation in Ireland isn´t the best, so we might be renting a car instead of worrying ourselves with confusing and limited bus schedules. This makes sense, but I´ll admit that driving on the left side of the road makes me nervous... oh well. It will be good for us, right? We´re also both REALLY limited with our budgets, so we´re going to do couch-surfing (free!!) instead of booking hostels or hotels. At first this made me a bit uncomfortable, but I´m a member now of a couch surfing online network, and it is very safe. You can choose to stay with fun, young students in a flat, families of all sorts, old couples in their cozy homes - anyone! It also enhances the traveling experience, as the hosts love meeting new people and are happy to give local insight - even provide meals! I think this decision is going to reward us in several unexpected and fulfilling ways! It will be nice to feel like we´ve made some connections everywhere we visit, as well.
Just one week. My life will be quite different in a week.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
The dirt is so black it is purple.
The sun has been brilliantly shining for two days now. While the temperature rarely rises above 5-8°C (about 40-45°F), the return of my bright yellow friend is a welcome arrival. It has also started to linger until about 6:30 before setting. Compared to 3:30 at the peak of winter, this makes a phenomenal difference in how I plan my days. I sort of went into hibernation during the months of November through March. I often would nap after sending the children to school, as it was still dark until about nine. In fact, I often picked up the children from sport or playdates in the dark if it was after 4:00. It never felt right, but I adapted. It felt as if my day was over when I returned to the garden house in the afternoon, so I would sit around on the computer, read books, and drink lots of tea. Even with a morning nap, my bedtime was often 9:00.
Things are changing now. I have sometimes been rising before my alarm, and haven´t had a morning nap in two weeks now. I linger at morning markets, take my bike instead of car (even with my wobbly basket and impossibly long grocery lists), and have even caught myself making little "surprises" for the children when I tidy the house, instead of just going through the routine as quickly as possible. With the improvement of my language skills, I am starting to enjoy talking to the parents at Forest Kindergarten when I pick up Emmi and her friend Tivon. It helps that we are no longer blasted by icy wind and ice. Yesterday Paul Luis and I had an intense one-on-one soccer match in the back yard as Emmi voluntarily pulled weeds in the garden. Earlier we had been playing and found some little strawberry plants struggling under overgrown grasses and vines. It immediately became Emmi´s mission to "save" them, and I couldn´t have been prouder of her. She also spent about 30 minutes cuddling a "sweet baby slug" she found on a rock. I didn´t tell her that in a couple months I will be starting a routine slug and snail slaughter every night. I don´t look forward to this, but Claudia and Jutta have told me that the only way to have a successful garden here is if one goes out with a flashlight every evening and plucks all the snails and slugs off the vegetable plants. Jutta recommends using a blade or boiling water, while Claudia prefers to have no garden at all. The one time she tried, she would carry large buckets of slugs out into the country every night to release them. There was only enough energy to do this for a couple weeks, and then she surrendered her garden to the forces of nature. Of course, with Claudia being an environmental toxicologist, using pesticides is not an option - which I am more than okay with. I think I can do this, though. I am mildly morally opposed to the idea of killing so many slugs and snails, but like most things I am sure I will get used to it. There is definitely no risk of endangering the species, and I think it is very important to grow food for myself if I can. I planted starters of lettuce mix, tomatoes, and basil, which are now sitting in pots on my garden house windowsills. It still freezes at night, so I think it is too early to put them in the ground. Jutta said I can go ahead and plant carrots, radishes, zucchini, and peas, though, which I might do sometime this week. It is so satisfying to have a new project along with this new season, even if I don´t get to harvest everything before the end of July. I hope I can stay motivated enough to keep everything alive. Maybe I can recruit help from the children. I hope that when the weather warms up we can set up our easels outside and practice some "impressionistic" style painting. Is that dorky? Maybe we can even find some berets...
Yesterday I had a very satisfying bike ride after work. It was indescribably refreshing to breathe air with "life" in it, which basically smelled like manure, dirt, and moss. I took some new paths which I found around the moor. I stopped several times to just sit and watch the dramatic angles of late light against the water, grasses, and white tree bark. I miss taking time to do those things. It has been a few months now since I´ve gone out to the moor. It feels so strange in this part of the country where we have so many lush green fields and forests. It as if someone has taken a little chunk of earth from another land and transplanted it to the heart of Schleswig-Holstein. I am always surprised as I move from familiar fields to forests, and suddenly the grasses become white and brown and gold, the trees black and white. Even the wildlife changes. I start to hear clicks, hums, and chirps of unknown water-bugs and water-birds instead of familiar doves, blackbirds, and magpies. The texture of the path is also something to get used to. It isn´t spongy or squishy, but somehow it "bounces" or "bends" a little as I step and I feel lighter. Maybe I´m imagining things, but I think my steps even sound different. I love the isolation I can experience at the moor. Most of my bike paths around Bordesholm, even the "nature" routes through the woods and lake, are met by dozens of joggers, nordic-walkers, and bikers. I realize I am one of them, and it feels too crowded. There are few open spaces in Germany, and with all the nearby trains and autobahn, it is definitely never quiet. But at the moor I can breathe. Maybe the colors of the tall-grasses remind me of Kansas prairies. If I close my eyes long enough, I can pretend there is a hot breeze and I hear the comforting lullaby of crickets and bull frogs.
Things are changing now. I have sometimes been rising before my alarm, and haven´t had a morning nap in two weeks now. I linger at morning markets, take my bike instead of car (even with my wobbly basket and impossibly long grocery lists), and have even caught myself making little "surprises" for the children when I tidy the house, instead of just going through the routine as quickly as possible. With the improvement of my language skills, I am starting to enjoy talking to the parents at Forest Kindergarten when I pick up Emmi and her friend Tivon. It helps that we are no longer blasted by icy wind and ice. Yesterday Paul Luis and I had an intense one-on-one soccer match in the back yard as Emmi voluntarily pulled weeds in the garden. Earlier we had been playing and found some little strawberry plants struggling under overgrown grasses and vines. It immediately became Emmi´s mission to "save" them, and I couldn´t have been prouder of her. She also spent about 30 minutes cuddling a "sweet baby slug" she found on a rock. I didn´t tell her that in a couple months I will be starting a routine slug and snail slaughter every night. I don´t look forward to this, but Claudia and Jutta have told me that the only way to have a successful garden here is if one goes out with a flashlight every evening and plucks all the snails and slugs off the vegetable plants. Jutta recommends using a blade or boiling water, while Claudia prefers to have no garden at all. The one time she tried, she would carry large buckets of slugs out into the country every night to release them. There was only enough energy to do this for a couple weeks, and then she surrendered her garden to the forces of nature. Of course, with Claudia being an environmental toxicologist, using pesticides is not an option - which I am more than okay with. I think I can do this, though. I am mildly morally opposed to the idea of killing so many slugs and snails, but like most things I am sure I will get used to it. There is definitely no risk of endangering the species, and I think it is very important to grow food for myself if I can. I planted starters of lettuce mix, tomatoes, and basil, which are now sitting in pots on my garden house windowsills. It still freezes at night, so I think it is too early to put them in the ground. Jutta said I can go ahead and plant carrots, radishes, zucchini, and peas, though, which I might do sometime this week. It is so satisfying to have a new project along with this new season, even if I don´t get to harvest everything before the end of July. I hope I can stay motivated enough to keep everything alive. Maybe I can recruit help from the children. I hope that when the weather warms up we can set up our easels outside and practice some "impressionistic" style painting. Is that dorky? Maybe we can even find some berets...
Yesterday I had a very satisfying bike ride after work. It was indescribably refreshing to breathe air with "life" in it, which basically smelled like manure, dirt, and moss. I took some new paths which I found around the moor. I stopped several times to just sit and watch the dramatic angles of late light against the water, grasses, and white tree bark. I miss taking time to do those things. It has been a few months now since I´ve gone out to the moor. It feels so strange in this part of the country where we have so many lush green fields and forests. It as if someone has taken a little chunk of earth from another land and transplanted it to the heart of Schleswig-Holstein. I am always surprised as I move from familiar fields to forests, and suddenly the grasses become white and brown and gold, the trees black and white. Even the wildlife changes. I start to hear clicks, hums, and chirps of unknown water-bugs and water-birds instead of familiar doves, blackbirds, and magpies. The texture of the path is also something to get used to. It isn´t spongy or squishy, but somehow it "bounces" or "bends" a little as I step and I feel lighter. Maybe I´m imagining things, but I think my steps even sound different. I love the isolation I can experience at the moor. Most of my bike paths around Bordesholm, even the "nature" routes through the woods and lake, are met by dozens of joggers, nordic-walkers, and bikers. I realize I am one of them, and it feels too crowded. There are few open spaces in Germany, and with all the nearby trains and autobahn, it is definitely never quiet. But at the moor I can breathe. Maybe the colors of the tall-grasses remind me of Kansas prairies. If I close my eyes long enough, I can pretend there is a hot breeze and I hear the comforting lullaby of crickets and bull frogs.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
