Soup is people too!

Obviously I can solisit more of a reaction from y'all with bombardments of sweet treats than with my existential crisis of how to be a mountaineer.

So today I made potato leek soup, which came out being just okay, but when I have soup, especially something so comforting as I recall potato leek soup being, I expect it to be orgastic. Maybe it was the carrots. I've never been much of a carrot supporter.


the very ugly potato leek soup that was in need of its carrot garnish

And just to get y'alls attention back, I also made Lemon Gem Cupcakes from VwaV, but without soymilk because it's a total waste for me to purchase an entire liter. I never was much of a milk drinker (vegan or pre). The only thing it's good for is cupcakes and black tea. I put in some water mixted with cornstarch where the soymilk shoulda been. I've no idea how that changed the cupcake, but they look fine to me. there are one or two lemon cupcake that I'm not giving to the family. if anyone would like one delivered in the next 24hrs or so, please let me know.


I just wanted to make use of this cool-looking plate

It's come to my attention of late that I really don't care for speaking German. It was my intention in coming here, however, to learn the language thoroughly and to be able to speak it like a German. My skillz are adequate. Yesterday evening, for instance, I met with a friend in Neuss and we spoke German for the first hour and it was fine. I know my grammar isn't great, but I'm understandable. I guess I thought, back in early 2007, that I'd get all immersed and involved in the "culture" here; I do like parts of it, but a lot of it gets on my nerves (the Germans' closed mindedness and coldness being at the top of my list).

This is a stark contrast to my feelings about the French language. I bought a small book in French over the week-end to read for pleasure and I'm going to Lille for the week-end with the intention of practicing their language. By this I can tell that it's not foreign languages that I dislike, it's just... German.

Hopefully things will change when my Deutschkurs begins next week and my mind will be opened up to some new literature or grammatical nuances. I also won't have so much damn freetime to brood on these sorts of things. In the meantime, I'm going to keep enjoying switching to English.

I'd love to hear some of your sentiments on the foreign languages you might've learned (or wish you had).

Tomorrow will be a funnier blog post, I swear.

I am so proud of me!

After studying with the girls for a while on Friday, I went out with my Alabamian friend to help her show her parents a bit of the city. They'd just flown over. They seemed like a pretty classy pair: the father, a southern gentleman with a hefty vocabulary in words that I would not share with my grandmother; the mom, poor thing, jet lagged and suffering from motion sickness, and Amanda, who was a little stressed for the remarkably calm girl that she is, trying to make it all perfect for them. I had a fun time, but later I realized that I shouldn't've spoken so much German at stores and whatever because Amanda had wanted to show her parents that she'd learned something. Woops. Me and my big mouth.


Everyone was outside today.

In the evening I went to a party where I spoke mostly German and some French, which I realized has really gone down the drain. There was beer and very nice people. It was good.

This morning I got up early and met some people to go to the Lindtt Factory. (Yes, I plan on mailing some souvenirs.) The nationalities were Indonesian, Polish, Turkmenistanish, and of course, yours truly, the not-so-typical American. We were all speaking terrible German together, but I'm sure it was good practice. Afterward I took the girl from Turkmenistan around. She seemed to be only interested in shopping, so I took her to some neat, small, expensive stores. Neither of us were intending to buy anything.


It was nice weather.

Now I'm home and I should probably go out again (A friend of mine offered to teach me some guitar today.), but I think I may just have a coffee, pull out Six Feet Under, (maybe!) study German, then perhaps have a walk before it gets dark. The fam is off in Dienslagen, so I haven't got a single worry!

In sum= Rachel+socializing+foreign languages= I have succeeded in something.

My Neighbors Rock

Last night I was getting on the N7 Bus that would eventually, in a very roundabout night bus sort-of way, take me back to Kelmis. The N7 is a really long ride (about 45minutes), so I was really happy when I noticed that two of my neighbors were sitting across from me. They're brother and sister and live with their parents still while they go to school and work. The brother was hilariously drunk and told me lots of umgangsprache, or slang, on the way back, much to all our delight (and perhaps the surrounding passengers as I caught a few snickers from the corner of my eye).

When we got out of the bus at our shared stop, I searched my pockets for my keys. They weren't there. My family is out of town and there seemed to be no chance of me getting anywhere at 3AM Easter morning. The sister, young, but very sensible, told me to sleep by their place and we'd get it sorted out once the sun came up.

It turned out the my host father did indeed give their mother an extra key to the house, so now I'm back home, have fed the rabbit, and am about to go back over to their place for breakfast. Oh, I have such great neighbors....

EDA: I went back over for breakfast and one of them quizzed me on the umgangsprache I'd learned last night. "Auf die Twelve," was one they'd taught me. I think it's an equivalent to "I'm gonna smack you up." Then asked what another one was; I could only remember that it started with a "p." The brother simuluntaniously eyed his mother and grandmother and asked me, very quickly, to drop it.

What's the word for...?

There are some words that you don't learn in class and you don't hear in general conversation, but for which you will occasionally need. Not often. Just about once a month if you're forgetful, like me, and never remember to put supplies in your purse. Then you might be wandering around your city on a Sunday afternoon looking for some Geshäft that is open, but of course nothing is because half of Europe is under the hold of Vatican... the dirty Catholics. Well, if you are in Germany on such an occassion, 1) do not find yourself in such a predicament on a Sunday, 2) do not have a train to catch, 3) be perpared to have yourself embarrased in front of old men.

I walked into some Tabac on such a day as aforementioned and was about to politely exit once I could tell from a quick glance that the owners, an elderly couple, did not have for sale what I needed.

"But hold on a minute!" they requested. "We may have it here, just tell us what it is."

Well, I did have a train to catch, so I ventured a guess at the word, "Haben Sie Tampons?"

Expressionless faces responded. I tried again. The woman made a few false guesses, but I could see the old man's brain a-ticking..., "Ist es für..?" and then he pointed, very discreatly, between his legs. I nodded that we understood each other.

"Nein, haben wir noch nichts," he told me.

My exit was quick; naught but a "thankyou" and a wave.

For future reference, they call them "ob"s (pronounced like "oh" and "bay,")because that particular brand is the prevailing sort that you'll see in these parts.

How I Speak German

Here's an update on my successes in the language department:

1) I'm seriously lacking on swear words.

2) I can say almost whatever I want, but often have to do so in a very round-about way.

3) The accent...
a) It used to be French. Not American. French.

b) Someone told me the other day that I had a nice Aachen accent. An example of that would be to say the "g"s at the end of a word with an "sh" rather than a "guh" or "kuh," which you can also here. Really, it's more of a Cologne/ Rhine River accent and really, I don't know crap about what I'm saying, I just try my damnedest to copy everyone else.

c) Someone else told me that I fall into that general "no accent" category where you can tell from all the grammatical mistakes that they're an Auslander, but you can't tell from where. Hey, that's still points in my book.

4) I've dreamt in German a few times.

5) I got a German folk song stuck in my head the other day. If only you truly knew of the torture of which I speak....

Karneval- a sum-up

The informative bit....

Karneval is a 5 day affair in this part of Deutschland, all along the river Rein, even including some Holland cities. It begins on the Thursday before Ash Wednesday. They call this day, "Fett Donnerstag," or, "Fat Thursday." It's called that because there's some kind of traditional fatty cake that's supposed to be made on this day. I have not seen one. The next three days aren't that important in Germany. I think that they give them each a flower name like, "Nelken Freitag," "Tulipen Samstag," and "Lola Sonntag," (the last I believe I made up) but they aren't really official. Monday is Rosen Montag and it's the day for the biggest parade. I totally forget the name for today, Tuesday, but it's got something special that's not entirely related to partying. (I'll edit it in later.)

Also, they have a day for the women (Thursday) and a day for the children (Monday). On Thursday at 11:11AM the women (in Aachen, at least) get the keys to the Rathaus (townhall) and open it and take over... or something like that. There's a whole bunch of dancing and music on this day; lots of kids about my age getting sloshed in the streets. Monday is the big parade day and they throw out TONS of candy in the streets.

They also have these... I'm not sure what to call them... royal families of Karneval, perhaps. A committee selects a prince, a treasurer, and some other folks and they become in charge of the communittee for the entirety of the festival. Kelmis, where I live, places a lot of importance on this and I would imagine that other small towns to as well. The prince has to attend all sorts of local events; I'm thinking stuff like BINGO at the old folks' home, but I'm not really sure.

Here's a photo of a friend of mine who was the treasurer in Kelmis a year or two ago:

The costumes varry a good bit. This one here is very traditional and very expensive. Like, €1000 or something. Some costumes are very ridiculous-looking; glittery, puffy sleeves and the like. Most are just very nice suits with the traditional hats like you can see in this picture:

There's a special kind of Karneval dance as well that can be pretty bad-ass. Because I cannot explain it very well, I'm posting the first two adequate YouTube videos that I found. The first is of some younger girls; you can see in the back the Karneval prince and the other important people. (They're wearing nice suits and funny hats.) The second is older, more skilled women dancing. Neither video is the coolest that I've seen, though. If they've got guys up there with them, there's be lots of lifting, throwing and tossing. Sort-of like "Bring It On," but German-style.

video 1
video 2

I'm in Dire Need of Compliments

I don't generally care about how I look, what people think of the way I eat, what brand of perfume I'm wearing (though I seem to've collected a number under names like Givinchey, Clinique, and Estée Lauder) and if anyone observes such, it's all fine and dandy, but it ain't gonna lean me in one direction or the other. I would be an entirelly independent person if it were not for my constant need of reassurement in my aptitude at my foreign languages.

I have this French friend who learned upon my visiting him in Rennes, France that I'm pretty decent at speaking his mother tongue. The only complitment that he'll give me is, "C'est pas mal," (Oh how bloody French-of-a-thing to say!) and gives a three second pause, "pour un American," he ruthlessly finishes. What does that mean, anyway, when no Americans can speak French?! Honestly, I'd give my country a flighty half of 1% for their foreign faculties.

Last night I was at my weekly INCAS meeting, sitting at a table with some kids, one of whom, a German, I know a kinda well because we always chill there. He was telling this one Turkish guy that his Deutsch was very good. We asked him how long he'd been here, he answered 6 months. "Wow!" "Impressive!" were our replies in German. The Turkish fellow, in turn, asked me how long I'd been here and all-of-a-sudden it's become a compitition to certify that our capabilities are adequate for how long we've been been here and studied beforehand. In the end, my German friend conceded that we can all speak very good German and I was satisfyed. Please bear in mind that it was no sort of heated argument, only that we were all desperate for a native's adulation.

Sprachentandem

Through the Aachen University (RWTH Excellenz), I received a speaking partner. We were sending e-mails back and forth for a while and we met last night. He's one of those kids that's absolutely adorable without knowing it. Despite that he studies Elektrotechnik we have some stuff in common: we both like to travel, he's reasonably liberal-minded, and we both have siblings. The future times should be fun. I'll try to sneak of picture of him in here sometime.

Go to North America yourself if you want to speak English

When I first moved to Germany, it was really nice that so many people could speak English. If I was lost or got a broken leg, usually someone could help me out in a sensical way pretty quick. Now that my language skills are apt, however, it really bugs me when people insist on practicing their English on me. I came to a foreign country to learn the friggin' language and not as a walking English instructor. I find it so ostentatious when someone insists on speaking English and another insists on speaking French or German or whatever language suiting to the location. It's not fitting to any social situation.

For those of you who have no experience in the matter, it's difficult to clarify precisely how the feeling is. Perhaps it would be like having a very thick accent, a Grundy County accent, for instance, but having the ability to tone it down a little bit so that if you're speaking to some unknowing Yank, you two could better understand each other. The example doesn't really work, though, because the Yank would never want to practice his/her Grundy County oral comprehension skills.

Being the polite young lady that I am, I usually, loathingly, in fact, break down and speak English with the person. How do you politely inform them that it's only just that they speak in their native tongue? Honestly the whole matter is about as awkward as a tit popping out of a topless shirt; not like that's ever happened to me or anything.

An Educational Momment: Brotchen

Brotchen is what we call the little bread that people eat here. There are different names for it all throughout Germany, Austria and Switzerland and I'll tell you those once I find the book from my last German course (honestly, my room is better suited to a field mouse the way I keep it).

Back in December, when I was paying the Cologne Wheinachts Markts a visit, I ended up buying the bread for our little slumber party group. I don't know the names of any of these little breads, nor do I really care to learn. I mean, there's the one covered in sesame seeds, the whole wheat one with pumpkin seeds, the boring white kind, the pretzel kind, etc., so why bother with naming them with such litotes as Kaiser Brot?

When I was instructing the lovely baker woman as to which ones I would like, she deemed it an appropriate time to inform me of the breads' names to which I pointed with a tone that implied I should repeat, so as to learn the name. Between those awkward pauses I'd give a few, "Ja. Genau. Ich möchte das da." and wonder, 'Why does she have to exacerbate things if all this hungover, non-German kid wants to do is buy bread?' Even if I'd had my Vocab Diary back then, I wouldn't've bothered to write down such scrap. Eventually victorious, but feeling slightly deprecated, I marched back to the building where myself and the other kiddos were shacked up. Feeling that I had to prove a point to myself, I asked my lovely host if he knew the names of all the breads.

"Why, of course!", he quickly replied, "This one is Kaiser Brot and this here is...."

"That's enough, Ulf."

If I lived in France, everything would be a baguette and we'd all be settled and fine and happy.

Now some pictures of Brotchen. It says "Moss" all over the place because that's the name of this particular bakery chain.

^ Germany's lame excuse for a baguette. ^

^ These are pretty typical German breakfast stuff. ^

<-- and a wide array here. There's some more in the back.

Vocabulary Diary

zomg! 5 days and no posts? Busy lady or hopeless procrastinator? I'll choose the latter.

I stopped by the Mayerbuchhandlung (book store) today before class to get myself a little notebook. I eyed some nice ones, various mole skins, you know the lot, but settled on a suave and more cost-efficient notebook with a print of Le Chat Noir on the cover. I love how I'm doing all this studying of Germany, but secretly want to move to France.

This notebook will hopefully change the way that I continuously ask for common-use words, then promptly forget them. It'll also be funny to look back at the words that I needed. We'll start with today's example, saving you the German translations: embarrassing, side effect, irritation, rash, common.

Weihnachten

The word for Christmas in German is "Weihnachten." It is a much easier to celebrate this holiday in Germany, where they are all unabashedly Catholic or Protestant. Not to say I don't miss the drama back home with what-to-dos once you get an atheist or converted Jew in the family, but it's nice to pretend that everyone is the same and settle down for a merry Christmas without the fluster.

The kid and me made cookies today. Okay, I made them and she decorated a couple with raisins. She said, "We can also decorate them with sprinkles or powdered sugar," and before I knew it, I snapped, "But it must be with raisins!" (Snapping gets much more intense in German, I promise you.) At home, we've always decorated our gingerbread cookies with raisins and I'll be damned if that's going to change now.

Here are the cookies:

We also have a fantastic Weihnachts Markt (Christmas Market) in Aachen. Me, the Dad and the Kid were there this evening. I had two and a half glasses of Glühwein (mulled wine) and was quite the giddy one for a while. I think these markets are such a superb addition to the Christmas time because it gets everyone out the house and into the street to eat, drink and be good captalistists when they would otherwise stay home and watch Quiz Taxi on the tele. Now that I'm home, I think I'll go see if it's on.