am a food snob. I cannot deny it. If the produce is not organic, keep it. If the meat is not free-range, hemical free and happily smiling before slaughter, I do not want it. Also, I like to cook. "What's for dinner mom?" "Pistachio-encrusted tilapia with sauteed chard and roasted root vegetables, honey."
I have really grown accustomed to the wide variety of beautiful (yes, truly, truly beautiful) vegetables and fruits that are available from local sources in my home in NC. I miss them.
I have found some markets here in Kiel that have some lovely offerings. But certain things simply do not grow anywhere nearby. One of those: tomatoes. I love tomatoes - but only when they are fresh, ripe and sweet. The peel should be delicate, indeed, barely noticeable.
Tomatoes do not grow in Kiel. I know this will be a shocker - but it rains too much. Plus, it is too cold. If I were a tomato plant, I would not grow fruit here. Why bring offspring into such a hostile climate? It would be irresponsible at best. At worst, cruel.
The only tomatoes to be had are the grocery store variety - and those are even worse than grocery store tomatoes in the states! I know, you are thinking, "How is that possible?". I think that the reason is transport. In order to travel to Germany, from say, Spain, it needs to be bruise-proof. This results in a 'peel' that is very much like a melon rind. When was the last time you bit into a melon with the rind on? That is what it is like to eat a grocery store tomato in Germany. Also, I have kept tomatoes on the counter-top for several weeks without spoilage. That simply should not happen.
I know I should just give up and stop buying tomatoes - but the available vegetable list is pretty short here, especially if you look for organic: We have peppers, tomatoes, mushrooms, broccoli, carrots, cucumber, eggplant, zucchini and (a German staple) asparagus. Occasionally, I will find some lettuce or salad mix. I found some fresh cilantro recently, and M remarked that I looked like someone just handed me a dozen roses...
Silly man. You cannot eat roses!
Subscribe To
Posts
All Comments
Thursday, June 7, 2012
Sunday, June 3, 2012
Busy Weekend
It was a busy weekend here in Suchsdorf. On Saturday, there was a neighborhood 'Kinderfest' - kinda like a carnival, with games, food and beer. (I think it is illegal in Germany to have a social event and not serve beer. It is probably in the same section with the 'purity laws'.)
I found myself feeling very much at home: I volunteered to help out, and ended up selling sweets at the bake sale. I think the other helpers may have thought I was a bit daft to voluntarily sell cakes and thus struggle through with (very, very) broken German. Worse yet - I was having fun. I know most people might find that silly, but I really enjoyed it. Especially when the 5- to 6-year-olds passed by the table. The cakes were exactly at eye-level for kids that size, and the looks on the faces displayed sheer wonder. Z helped me by collecting money (something he enjoys very much) and acting as interpreter when I was hopelessly lost (something he enjoys a bit less). M had just returned from a trip to NY, and when he saw me at the cake table, he ran home to get the camera - so I have photographic evidence that this actually took place...
On Sunday, there was a 'flohmarkt' (flea market). It really was more like a neighborhood-wide yard sale. I took the opportunity to offer some of my pots for sale. Unfortunately, there wasn't a whole lot of purchasing going on, even for the 10 cent toy cars and cheap used clothing, so I only sold a few items. But - it was lovely to hang out there, meeting people, and having some admire pots, even if they didn't buy. I did sell a large bowl and a tumbler. Well, actually 3 tumblers - but the other two probably don't count.
There was a little boy, about 5-years-old, who came up to the table several times. First, he asked the price of a tumbler (just 5 euro, which is actually pretty cheap) - I said I would take 2.50... He asked to have it for free...I declined. Another time, he asked to take a piece home to show his mother. I said, ok, but he was doing the pee-pee dance, so we sent him to go to the bathroom first. He returned, and asked to bring a pitcher home to show his mom. The pitchers were a bit big for a kid his size to reasonably carry without breaking, so M and I offered some smaller pieces. He said nevermind... The next time he came back, he handed me 20 euro cents and asked what he could buy with that. He had picked up one of my agateware tumblers several times, so I said, "You can have this one." He grinned a huge grin, and said it was a gift for his mom... I gave him two, wrapped carefully in a ton of newspaper. I hope they made it home in one piece.
There was also a little girl, about 8 or 9. She visited us even more frequently than the little boy. M asked which one she liked best, and she said, "All of them!". Yeah, kid, you got my number. At one point, she passed by with her mother, saying "Mama, look! Alles selbst gemacht!" (All are hand made!) The mom didn't even turn her head, so I guess she was not interested in pots. The daughter though, she stopped by a few more times to look. (I really wish I could line up a job teaching kids to work with clay. Unfortunately, such positions are in high demand and don't pay a living wage... ) I found her again when we were packing up. I told her to pick whatever she wanted and she could have it as a gift. It took her a few minutes to settle on a small bowl, slip decorated in red, yellow and orange. I was paid with a brilliant smile.
The other tumbler was purchased by two teen-aged girls. I am left to wonder: what is it about my pots that attract such young people? Many of the adults came by to look and admire - but none nearly as wide-eyed as the kids. I would not have expected children to have such a reaction to pottery.
All in all, it was a very nice weekend. I miss our neighborhood at home so much - it was nice to feel a bit a part of this one.
I found myself feeling very much at home: I volunteered to help out, and ended up selling sweets at the bake sale. I think the other helpers may have thought I was a bit daft to voluntarily sell cakes and thus struggle through with (very, very) broken German. Worse yet - I was having fun. I know most people might find that silly, but I really enjoyed it. Especially when the 5- to 6-year-olds passed by the table. The cakes were exactly at eye-level for kids that size, and the looks on the faces displayed sheer wonder. Z helped me by collecting money (something he enjoys very much) and acting as interpreter when I was hopelessly lost (something he enjoys a bit less). M had just returned from a trip to NY, and when he saw me at the cake table, he ran home to get the camera - so I have photographic evidence that this actually took place...
On Sunday, there was a 'flohmarkt' (flea market). It really was more like a neighborhood-wide yard sale. I took the opportunity to offer some of my pots for sale. Unfortunately, there wasn't a whole lot of purchasing going on, even for the 10 cent toy cars and cheap used clothing, so I only sold a few items. But - it was lovely to hang out there, meeting people, and having some admire pots, even if they didn't buy. I did sell a large bowl and a tumbler. Well, actually 3 tumblers - but the other two probably don't count.
There was a little boy, about 5-years-old, who came up to the table several times. First, he asked the price of a tumbler (just 5 euro, which is actually pretty cheap) - I said I would take 2.50... He asked to have it for free...I declined. Another time, he asked to take a piece home to show his mother. I said, ok, but he was doing the pee-pee dance, so we sent him to go to the bathroom first. He returned, and asked to bring a pitcher home to show his mom. The pitchers were a bit big for a kid his size to reasonably carry without breaking, so M and I offered some smaller pieces. He said nevermind... The next time he came back, he handed me 20 euro cents and asked what he could buy with that. He had picked up one of my agateware tumblers several times, so I said, "You can have this one." He grinned a huge grin, and said it was a gift for his mom... I gave him two, wrapped carefully in a ton of newspaper. I hope they made it home in one piece.
There was also a little girl, about 8 or 9. She visited us even more frequently than the little boy. M asked which one she liked best, and she said, "All of them!". Yeah, kid, you got my number. At one point, she passed by with her mother, saying "Mama, look! Alles selbst gemacht!" (All are hand made!) The mom didn't even turn her head, so I guess she was not interested in pots. The daughter though, she stopped by a few more times to look. (I really wish I could line up a job teaching kids to work with clay. Unfortunately, such positions are in high demand and don't pay a living wage... ) I found her again when we were packing up. I told her to pick whatever she wanted and she could have it as a gift. It took her a few minutes to settle on a small bowl, slip decorated in red, yellow and orange. I was paid with a brilliant smile.
The other tumbler was purchased by two teen-aged girls. I am left to wonder: what is it about my pots that attract such young people? Many of the adults came by to look and admire - but none nearly as wide-eyed as the kids. I would not have expected children to have such a reaction to pottery.
All in all, it was a very nice weekend. I miss our neighborhood at home so much - it was nice to feel a bit a part of this one.
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
Pentecost Monday (Pfingsten)???
I have a confession to make: I was raised Catholic. Get it? Confession? Catholic...
One intentionally bad pun out of the way, lets talk about the recent German holiday. First, to be fair, many other nations celebrate this holiday. It's not just the Germans - though I am willing to bet no one celebrates it for quite as long... You'll see...
Growing up, we had 'holidays' such as Ascension Thursday, Pentecost Sunday, etc. Because I lived in a Catholic/Jewish neighborhood, we had both the Christian and Jewish holidays off from school, so Good Friday was always a day off, as was Rosh Hashanna or Yom Kippur. Of course, in my family, we were compelled to go to church on these 'holy days of obligation', and most of the Jewish kids went to temple for the Jewish holy days. After church was another story, of course. But you didn't take off for a long weekend. You had church in the morning! And if you skipped, this was a venial sin and you needed to go to confession, do your penance and be absolved so that you had a clean soul and could accept Communion the coming Sunday. Of course, you could beat your wife and kids, nothing in the Bible against that, so no prob. But you had to go to Mass.
Also, Easter and Pentecost were Sunday holidays. This means you don't get an extra day off. No 'Easter Monday'. No 'Pentecost Monday'. Holiday falls on Sunday, too bad. At least, you don't have an extra day of mass that week.
This is all background, so that you can see how I sit in awe as I watch the Germans 'celebrate' these holidays. The week of 'Himmelfahrt', J had the whole week off from school. Not just Thursday. The entire week! Z had Thursday and Friday off - and then had the entire following week off for 'Pfingsten'. J had to go to school that week - but they had all kinds of fun activities not associated directly to academics. I assume that is because half the kids weren't there, because their older siblings in Gymnasium had the week off, and the family went on 'holiday'.
How in heaven's name (Ha ha. Second bad pun) does this country have the strongest economy in Europe?
Z spent the long weekend learning to wind surf with his soccer team. We picked him up and on the way home, Z asked if M had read about a particular handball match in the paper. M said in a very casual tone, "Oh, there is no paper today. It's a holiday. " This conversation took place in German, so I had to clarify: "Wait. There is no newspaper today?" M looked at me as though I were insane. "Of course not. It's a holiday." I started to break out into a cold sweat... "Are the HOSPITALS open????" WTF??
We discussed the newspaper thing a bit, and at some point, I learned that the Kieler Nachrichten does not have a Sunday edition. I could not hide my bewilderment. M asked, "Well, does the NY Times have a paper on Sunday?"
Oh Crap. We need to get back to the States. ASAP.
One intentionally bad pun out of the way, lets talk about the recent German holiday. First, to be fair, many other nations celebrate this holiday. It's not just the Germans - though I am willing to bet no one celebrates it for quite as long... You'll see...
Growing up, we had 'holidays' such as Ascension Thursday, Pentecost Sunday, etc. Because I lived in a Catholic/Jewish neighborhood, we had both the Christian and Jewish holidays off from school, so Good Friday was always a day off, as was Rosh Hashanna or Yom Kippur. Of course, in my family, we were compelled to go to church on these 'holy days of obligation', and most of the Jewish kids went to temple for the Jewish holy days. After church was another story, of course. But you didn't take off for a long weekend. You had church in the morning! And if you skipped, this was a venial sin and you needed to go to confession, do your penance and be absolved so that you had a clean soul and could accept Communion the coming Sunday. Of course, you could beat your wife and kids, nothing in the Bible against that, so no prob. But you had to go to Mass.
Also, Easter and Pentecost were Sunday holidays. This means you don't get an extra day off. No 'Easter Monday'. No 'Pentecost Monday'. Holiday falls on Sunday, too bad. At least, you don't have an extra day of mass that week.
This is all background, so that you can see how I sit in awe as I watch the Germans 'celebrate' these holidays. The week of 'Himmelfahrt', J had the whole week off from school. Not just Thursday. The entire week! Z had Thursday and Friday off - and then had the entire following week off for 'Pfingsten'. J had to go to school that week - but they had all kinds of fun activities not associated directly to academics. I assume that is because half the kids weren't there, because their older siblings in Gymnasium had the week off, and the family went on 'holiday'.
How in heaven's name (Ha ha. Second bad pun) does this country have the strongest economy in Europe?
Z spent the long weekend learning to wind surf with his soccer team. We picked him up and on the way home, Z asked if M had read about a particular handball match in the paper. M said in a very casual tone, "Oh, there is no paper today. It's a holiday. " This conversation took place in German, so I had to clarify: "Wait. There is no newspaper today?" M looked at me as though I were insane. "Of course not. It's a holiday." I started to break out into a cold sweat... "Are the HOSPITALS open????" WTF??
We discussed the newspaper thing a bit, and at some point, I learned that the Kieler Nachrichten does not have a Sunday edition. I could not hide my bewilderment. M asked, "Well, does the NY Times have a paper on Sunday?"
Oh Crap. We need to get back to the States. ASAP.
Saturday, May 26, 2012
Canines and Canoes
I have the best dog in the Universe.
Ok. I cannot speak for the entire Universe, as I have no idea what extra-terrestrial dogs are like, even in general - but - at the very least, I am continually impressed with my little Magnificent Mutt.
We went on a little canoe tour today. (We being myself, M and J. Z is off on a sailing/windsurfing weekend with the Fussball team. I know. Nice life.) Oh, and Chestnut came with. Yes, our lovely little doggie in a canoe. We paddled for about 3 hours. At first, she pawed at the water over the side, and I feared she might jump ship. (I actually asked the 'Canoe Guy' if they had life vests for dogs. M was mortified. I maintain that such things exist: http://www.walmart.com/search/search-ng.do?search_query=Dog%20Life%20Jacket&adid=22222222220018693521&wmlspartner=wmtlabs&wl0=b&wl1=g&wl2=&wl3=15218855138&wl4= . And, you can get them at Walmart....)
Chesnut stayed aboard, very interested in the ducks and various other waterfowl. But she never barked, never whined - even though she was a bit nervous at first. After a while, she just did what she always does at home. She just curled up and went to sleep.
A fein Hund indeed.
Ok. I cannot speak for the entire Universe, as I have no idea what extra-terrestrial dogs are like, even in general - but - at the very least, I am continually impressed with my little Magnificent Mutt.
We went on a little canoe tour today. (We being myself, M and J. Z is off on a sailing/windsurfing weekend with the Fussball team. I know. Nice life.) Oh, and Chestnut came with. Yes, our lovely little doggie in a canoe. We paddled for about 3 hours. At first, she pawed at the water over the side, and I feared she might jump ship. (I actually asked the 'Canoe Guy' if they had life vests for dogs. M was mortified. I maintain that such things exist: http://www.walmart.com/search/search-ng.do?search_query=Dog%20Life%20Jacket&adid=22222222220018693521&wmlspartner=wmtlabs&wl0=b&wl1=g&wl2=&wl3=15218855138&wl4= . And, you can get them at Walmart....)
Chesnut stayed aboard, very interested in the ducks and various other waterfowl. But she never barked, never whined - even though she was a bit nervous at first. After a while, she just did what she always does at home. She just curled up and went to sleep.
A fein Hund indeed.
Friday, May 18, 2012
The Postman Rings Once
This happened a couple of months ago, but it is the kind of thing could only happen in Germany, so I thought it is worth relaying, even much after the fact.
One day, I was, well, lets just say 'busy' (hint: kids were at school, M works at home). The doorbell rings. I hurriedly make myself presentable and run downstairs to answer, swearing under my breath that if this is a klingelstreich (kids ring and run) I will wring some little German necks.
I open the door, and the postman is there. He starts to interrogate me auf Deutsch. My confused stare goes unnoticed for a while, and I am picking up bits and pieces, such as he seems to be asking about the former occupants. I stammer something that I think means they do not live here anymore. I still don't quite know what he is talking about, but his tone is admonishing. "Verstehen Sie?" Ah, now that one I know. He is asking if I understand. "Uhhhh.... No. I mean, Nein." Now he looks angrier. More harsh Deutsch. "Ummm.... Wie bitte?" Deep sigh from the postman, he hands me two pieces of mail, points to the mailbox and says:
"No Name, No Post!"
And he leaves. Ohhhhh! It was starting to make sense. M had painstakingly put our names on a strip of paper, then had taped them very carefully over the names of the owners (and most recent residents) on the mailbox. The ink had faded away, due to - you guessed it - The Rain. I really had wondered why on earth he would bother with such a thing, but M often gives great attention to weird things that I find unimportant (mopping floors, arranging furniture, making the bed, for example), so I just put it into the 'ok, whatever' category. Turns out, if you want mail in Germany, you need to have your name on the mailbox. I guess that is so important mail doesn't fall into the wrong hands. I look down at the items in my hand:
A flyer for the local supermarket and some Burger King coupons. Whew. That was a close one.
One day, I was, well, lets just say 'busy' (hint: kids were at school, M works at home). The doorbell rings. I hurriedly make myself presentable and run downstairs to answer, swearing under my breath that if this is a klingelstreich (kids ring and run) I will wring some little German necks.
I open the door, and the postman is there. He starts to interrogate me auf Deutsch. My confused stare goes unnoticed for a while, and I am picking up bits and pieces, such as he seems to be asking about the former occupants. I stammer something that I think means they do not live here anymore. I still don't quite know what he is talking about, but his tone is admonishing. "Verstehen Sie?" Ah, now that one I know. He is asking if I understand. "Uhhhh.... No. I mean, Nein." Now he looks angrier. More harsh Deutsch. "Ummm.... Wie bitte?" Deep sigh from the postman, he hands me two pieces of mail, points to the mailbox and says:
"No Name, No Post!"
And he leaves. Ohhhhh! It was starting to make sense. M had painstakingly put our names on a strip of paper, then had taped them very carefully over the names of the owners (and most recent residents) on the mailbox. The ink had faded away, due to - you guessed it - The Rain. I really had wondered why on earth he would bother with such a thing, but M often gives great attention to weird things that I find unimportant (mopping floors, arranging furniture, making the bed, for example), so I just put it into the 'ok, whatever' category. Turns out, if you want mail in Germany, you need to have your name on the mailbox. I guess that is so important mail doesn't fall into the wrong hands. I look down at the items in my hand:
A flyer for the local supermarket and some Burger King coupons. Whew. That was a close one.
Thursday, May 17, 2012
Happy Himmelfahrt and Vaterstag
Ok. The kids are with grandparents and I am tired of depressing myself by looking at weather forecasts and general climate info, so I figured I'd write a bit.
First, some weather-related notes: Turns out, the summer I have been waiting for isn't actually coming. The high temp here in June hovers around - get this - 68 degrees Fahrenheit. While there are about 17 hours of daylight, only about 8 hours per day is actually sunny. My dreams of hitting the outdoor swimming pool or the beach are looking a whole lot less attractive. When I get back to NC, I will soak up the heat like a bone dry sponge taking in water. If you are standing next to me, do not be surprised to feel a chill or even a slight breeze as a result of the sudden temperature gradient.
So, what's new? Well, today is a holiday in Germany. Ok. That's not news. There is a holiday here every other week. But it was news to me today. Not the holiday part, but I forgot that this means all the stores are closed again. I have gotten used to the Sunday thing (sort of), but when there is a truly obscure holiday on a Thursday, it comes as a bit of a shock to see the whole place close down.
Now for the best part. What holiday is today? In English, it is the Ascension. When the Holy Ghost appears to the apostles and then ascends into heaven. Or something like that. The Germans call it 'Himmelfahrt', which is now officially my favorite German word. Translated literally, it means 'heaven drive'. I imagine Jesus behind the wheel of a V.W. bus, driving himself up to heaven. Of course, my Jesus looks just like Ted Neely in Jesus Christ Superstar, so it needs to be a V.W. bus. He is listening to a cassette tape recording of 'Magic Carpet Ride' and grooving to the beat. Could it be a Volvo? Or a Prius, perhaps. Could he be listening to Springsteen or Telemann or earsplitting German techno-pop? Sure. Pick your own Jesus image and the associated vehicle and song.
What do the Germans do on this Oh-So-Sacred holiday (so sacred that the kids get not one, but two days off from school!)? Well, it is also Vaterstag (Father's day). That's nice. Dads and Moms and kids, all go to church and then spend the day together... No, actually, not at all. First, the Germans only go to church for baptisms, confirmations, weddings and funerals. Some go at Christmas and Easter too, but that's just to watch the little plays the kids put on. Second, Father's day is for Fathers - not families. The Dads leave the kids with Mom, and then go out drinking together. It's a good thing Jesus was single. He could end up with a DUI.
Most people know that I am (ahem) not a church-going person. But really, if you are going to take the day off in the name of a holy day, shouldn't you go to church? If not, either rename the day (ItIsMayAndIWantAnotherDayOff Day? HowCanAPersonSurviveOnOnlySixWeeksVacation Day?) or get your butt to work - so I can go to the stupid grocery store.
First, some weather-related notes: Turns out, the summer I have been waiting for isn't actually coming. The high temp here in June hovers around - get this - 68 degrees Fahrenheit. While there are about 17 hours of daylight, only about 8 hours per day is actually sunny. My dreams of hitting the outdoor swimming pool or the beach are looking a whole lot less attractive. When I get back to NC, I will soak up the heat like a bone dry sponge taking in water. If you are standing next to me, do not be surprised to feel a chill or even a slight breeze as a result of the sudden temperature gradient.
So, what's new? Well, today is a holiday in Germany. Ok. That's not news. There is a holiday here every other week. But it was news to me today. Not the holiday part, but I forgot that this means all the stores are closed again. I have gotten used to the Sunday thing (sort of), but when there is a truly obscure holiday on a Thursday, it comes as a bit of a shock to see the whole place close down.
Now for the best part. What holiday is today? In English, it is the Ascension. When the Holy Ghost appears to the apostles and then ascends into heaven. Or something like that. The Germans call it 'Himmelfahrt', which is now officially my favorite German word. Translated literally, it means 'heaven drive'. I imagine Jesus behind the wheel of a V.W. bus, driving himself up to heaven. Of course, my Jesus looks just like Ted Neely in Jesus Christ Superstar, so it needs to be a V.W. bus. He is listening to a cassette tape recording of 'Magic Carpet Ride' and grooving to the beat. Could it be a Volvo? Or a Prius, perhaps. Could he be listening to Springsteen or Telemann or earsplitting German techno-pop? Sure. Pick your own Jesus image and the associated vehicle and song.
What do the Germans do on this Oh-So-Sacred holiday (so sacred that the kids get not one, but two days off from school!)? Well, it is also Vaterstag (Father's day). That's nice. Dads and Moms and kids, all go to church and then spend the day together... No, actually, not at all. First, the Germans only go to church for baptisms, confirmations, weddings and funerals. Some go at Christmas and Easter too, but that's just to watch the little plays the kids put on. Second, Father's day is for Fathers - not families. The Dads leave the kids with Mom, and then go out drinking together. It's a good thing Jesus was single. He could end up with a DUI.
Most people know that I am (ahem) not a church-going person. But really, if you are going to take the day off in the name of a holy day, shouldn't you go to church? If not, either rename the day (ItIsMayAndIWantAnotherDayOff Day? HowCanAPersonSurviveOnOnlySixWeeksVacation Day?) or get your butt to work - so I can go to the stupid grocery store.
Thursday, March 8, 2012
Ich gehe zu Schule
It's been a while! I think I have been getting progressively lazier lately, and considering that I was already quite the bum, I should probably do something to reverse that trend...
Anyways, let's talk about yesterday. Yesterday, I spent the entire morning with J's second grade class at the Grundschule. I had already developed some negative views of the school system here, so on the way to the school, I tried to neutralize them. "Keep an open mind", I told myself. "Be objective. Just because things here are done differently than you would do them, doesn't make them wrong - right?"
We begin the day at 8:45 am. The teacher comes in, and announces, "Guten Morgen, klasse 2e". The class responds, in unison, of course, "Guten Morgen, Frau Stern". (Names changed to protect the guilty...) Already, I feel like I have been transported to at least the beginning of the 20th century. "Think positive thoughts", I remind myself.
Next, we have the following dialogue (I am both translating and paraphrasing here, but I will try to convey the atmosphere correctly):
FS: So, who has done their homework yesterday.
(Pretty much the entire class raises hands. Except J, of course. We had gone to see the Lion King in Hamburg the night before. We left directly after school, and did not return until midnight - so no time for homework.)
FS: J, you did not do any homework last night?
J: No, I didn't
FS: Why not?
J: I didn't have any time.
FS (looking unpleased and with a sarcastic tone): You didn't have any time?
Me (Trying to explain and defend my son... Can she really be doing this with me sitting right here?): We went to Hamburg yesterday...
J: Yes, and we saw the Lion King.
FS (Laughs sardonically. Class laughs a bit timidly): Well, we would all like to see the Lion King on a Tuesday night... Well, you will just have more work tonight, won't you, J?
J(shrugs): Uhh... yeah...
Yep. Nothing like starting the day with a little public humiliation aimed at instilling a work ethic. Now I am sure there is a wormhole quite nearby, as this cannot possibly be happening in 2012.
Next, we have a round of random multiplication and division problems. The teacher asks questions such as 4 times 8 and 9 times 9 and 21 divided by 3. The kids raise their hands to answer. A couple of minutes go by, most kids raising their hands. J raises his - and the teacher calls on him, surprised to see his hand. Silence for what seems like a full minute. And he gives the correct answer! Auf Deutsch, even, although he was not able to repeat the question before giving the answer, as all the other children had done. Good job, J!
Oh - I should mention, Germans say their numbers backwards. Ok, I mean opposite of the English names of numbers. Twenty-eight is 'acht und zwanzig', or 'eight and twenty'. This is a triple-whammy for an American kid. First, he has to recognize the different word order, translate to English, and then solve the math problem. I am officially impressed.
After this, the kids are called to stand in two lines. The teacher stands at the front and asks another multiplication or division problem. The two kids in front are challenged to see who comes up with the correct answer first. The winner sits down, loser goes to the end of his line for another turn. First 'team' to run out of players wins.
When the game is finished, the kids all sit down and pull out their blue math binders. They are given worksheets with multiplication problem after multiplication problem. This essentially all the 'math' I have seen since January. Worksheets with multiplication, division, addition and subtraction. There are no applications. No connection to what these quantities mean, or why anyone would find it important to know such things. The class seems happy to do the work without any of these motivations. Well, everyone except J. He sits with his worksheet, sighs, does one problem, scratches, fidgets in his chair, sighs again, next problem, "3 times 7. Or 7 times 3. (He likes to repeat the commutative property nearly every time...) 7 times 3. 3,6,9,13 - wait - 12... start again... 3,6,9,12,15,18,21. 21." Sigh. Next problem. Scratch, fidget, eye rub, yawn... This last part goes on for 35 minutes. J gets about 1/3 of the work done.
This is why I am here. Frau Stern has been sending home notes. J needs to work harder in class. The TA labels him a 'dreamer' (which, frankly, I think is a compliment). It's pretty clear to me what is going on. The poor kid is bored out of his mind. Plus, he is clever. He knows that after every 45 minutes of this kind of thing, he gets to go outside and play for 15 minutes. He is just biding time, waiting to do something fun. The teacher thinks he is there to work, and gets 15 minutes rest in between. J knows he is there to play, with 45 minutes of waiting in between.
So, after the Morose and Mundane Math, we go outside and J smiles, plays, giggles and has a wonderful 15 minutes. Then, we head back inside for 'science'. I am not sure what the Germans mean by this - there was a whole unit on street signs for example, so it doesn't really look like a direct connection to the English word, but in any case, they are now doing a unit on field rabbits, and J is very interested in them. The kids are paired (the desks are already arranged so that each kid has a partner). One part of the pair reads aloud the first two paragraphs of an excerpt regarding rabbits, then the other kid reads the next two aloud. When everyone is done reading, the teacher asks questions about rabbits. J is paired with a visiting student teacher, so he reads the entire thing aloud. I am pleased to observe that he has managed to learn to read German in the past 2 months. Excellent! The teacher asks questions, kids raise hands and answer. J does not raise his hand. At some point, the teacher asks him a question directly. He answers it readily, and she seems quite surprised. I am not, but then again, I know him a lot better than she does.
Bell rings. Another 15 minutes of joy. Even better - after this break - SPORT! (sport = P.E.). Whenever we ask J about his school day here, he always says 'great!', followed by 'In sport, we played X', or 'During the break, I got a turn on the swing!'. What about the rest of the day? 'Oh, the same as always... guess what we did in sport!'
During sport, the teacher asks me what I thought of the math lesson. In retrospect, I guess she may have been asking about how J doesn't seem to be working very hard, but I took her literally, and tried to sound as neutral as possible. "Well, it is just very different from what he is doing back home." Defensive already, she asks, "What do you mean?" "Well", I say, "there isn't so much focus on memorization. The National Council of Teachers of Mathematics is recommending an emphasis on concept, rather than computation... The kids just don't work as hard on memorizing multiplication facts." She seems genuinely perplexed, which is understandable. Eins mal eins (multiplication facts) are sacred here - a right of passage. M is still traumatized from learning his almost 35 years ago. I change the subject. "J loves the unit on rabbits. I have heard more about field rabbits this week than I ever thought possible." This lightens the conversation, and we talk more about the things that are going well - he has friends, he loves sport, etc. I tell her more about how J really needs to be internally motivated to do things well. She asks if we haven't considered putting him in a Waldorf school here.
I guess Waldorf would have been a much better fit. But, unfortunately, those schools are full (I do not wonder why...). Besides, we really just want him to go to school with kids from the neighborhood, make friends, learn German, and have a positive experience overall. The truth is, we are fine with how things are going. If we were to stay here for any longer period of time, yes, we would have to find something more academically appealing.
We have been telling the folks at both schools exactly this - but somehow, it seems to have a hard time sinking in. Guess we will just have to keep trying!
Anyways, let's talk about yesterday. Yesterday, I spent the entire morning with J's second grade class at the Grundschule. I had already developed some negative views of the school system here, so on the way to the school, I tried to neutralize them. "Keep an open mind", I told myself. "Be objective. Just because things here are done differently than you would do them, doesn't make them wrong - right?"
We begin the day at 8:45 am. The teacher comes in, and announces, "Guten Morgen, klasse 2e". The class responds, in unison, of course, "Guten Morgen, Frau Stern". (Names changed to protect the guilty...) Already, I feel like I have been transported to at least the beginning of the 20th century. "Think positive thoughts", I remind myself.
Next, we have the following dialogue (I am both translating and paraphrasing here, but I will try to convey the atmosphere correctly):
FS: So, who has done their homework yesterday.
(Pretty much the entire class raises hands. Except J, of course. We had gone to see the Lion King in Hamburg the night before. We left directly after school, and did not return until midnight - so no time for homework.)
FS: J, you did not do any homework last night?
J: No, I didn't
FS: Why not?
J: I didn't have any time.
FS (looking unpleased and with a sarcastic tone): You didn't have any time?
Me (Trying to explain and defend my son... Can she really be doing this with me sitting right here?): We went to Hamburg yesterday...
J: Yes, and we saw the Lion King.
FS (Laughs sardonically. Class laughs a bit timidly): Well, we would all like to see the Lion King on a Tuesday night... Well, you will just have more work tonight, won't you, J?
J(shrugs): Uhh... yeah...
Yep. Nothing like starting the day with a little public humiliation aimed at instilling a work ethic. Now I am sure there is a wormhole quite nearby, as this cannot possibly be happening in 2012.
Next, we have a round of random multiplication and division problems. The teacher asks questions such as 4 times 8 and 9 times 9 and 21 divided by 3. The kids raise their hands to answer. A couple of minutes go by, most kids raising their hands. J raises his - and the teacher calls on him, surprised to see his hand. Silence for what seems like a full minute. And he gives the correct answer! Auf Deutsch, even, although he was not able to repeat the question before giving the answer, as all the other children had done. Good job, J!
Oh - I should mention, Germans say their numbers backwards. Ok, I mean opposite of the English names of numbers. Twenty-eight is 'acht und zwanzig', or 'eight and twenty'. This is a triple-whammy for an American kid. First, he has to recognize the different word order, translate to English, and then solve the math problem. I am officially impressed.
After this, the kids are called to stand in two lines. The teacher stands at the front and asks another multiplication or division problem. The two kids in front are challenged to see who comes up with the correct answer first. The winner sits down, loser goes to the end of his line for another turn. First 'team' to run out of players wins.
When the game is finished, the kids all sit down and pull out their blue math binders. They are given worksheets with multiplication problem after multiplication problem. This essentially all the 'math' I have seen since January. Worksheets with multiplication, division, addition and subtraction. There are no applications. No connection to what these quantities mean, or why anyone would find it important to know such things. The class seems happy to do the work without any of these motivations. Well, everyone except J. He sits with his worksheet, sighs, does one problem, scratches, fidgets in his chair, sighs again, next problem, "3 times 7. Or 7 times 3. (He likes to repeat the commutative property nearly every time...) 7 times 3. 3,6,9,13 - wait - 12... start again... 3,6,9,12,15,18,21. 21." Sigh. Next problem. Scratch, fidget, eye rub, yawn... This last part goes on for 35 minutes. J gets about 1/3 of the work done.
This is why I am here. Frau Stern has been sending home notes. J needs to work harder in class. The TA labels him a 'dreamer' (which, frankly, I think is a compliment). It's pretty clear to me what is going on. The poor kid is bored out of his mind. Plus, he is clever. He knows that after every 45 minutes of this kind of thing, he gets to go outside and play for 15 minutes. He is just biding time, waiting to do something fun. The teacher thinks he is there to work, and gets 15 minutes rest in between. J knows he is there to play, with 45 minutes of waiting in between.
So, after the Morose and Mundane Math, we go outside and J smiles, plays, giggles and has a wonderful 15 minutes. Then, we head back inside for 'science'. I am not sure what the Germans mean by this - there was a whole unit on street signs for example, so it doesn't really look like a direct connection to the English word, but in any case, they are now doing a unit on field rabbits, and J is very interested in them. The kids are paired (the desks are already arranged so that each kid has a partner). One part of the pair reads aloud the first two paragraphs of an excerpt regarding rabbits, then the other kid reads the next two aloud. When everyone is done reading, the teacher asks questions about rabbits. J is paired with a visiting student teacher, so he reads the entire thing aloud. I am pleased to observe that he has managed to learn to read German in the past 2 months. Excellent! The teacher asks questions, kids raise hands and answer. J does not raise his hand. At some point, the teacher asks him a question directly. He answers it readily, and she seems quite surprised. I am not, but then again, I know him a lot better than she does.
Bell rings. Another 15 minutes of joy. Even better - after this break - SPORT! (sport = P.E.). Whenever we ask J about his school day here, he always says 'great!', followed by 'In sport, we played X', or 'During the break, I got a turn on the swing!'. What about the rest of the day? 'Oh, the same as always... guess what we did in sport!'
During sport, the teacher asks me what I thought of the math lesson. In retrospect, I guess she may have been asking about how J doesn't seem to be working very hard, but I took her literally, and tried to sound as neutral as possible. "Well, it is just very different from what he is doing back home." Defensive already, she asks, "What do you mean?" "Well", I say, "there isn't so much focus on memorization. The National Council of Teachers of Mathematics is recommending an emphasis on concept, rather than computation... The kids just don't work as hard on memorizing multiplication facts." She seems genuinely perplexed, which is understandable. Eins mal eins (multiplication facts) are sacred here - a right of passage. M is still traumatized from learning his almost 35 years ago. I change the subject. "J loves the unit on rabbits. I have heard more about field rabbits this week than I ever thought possible." This lightens the conversation, and we talk more about the things that are going well - he has friends, he loves sport, etc. I tell her more about how J really needs to be internally motivated to do things well. She asks if we haven't considered putting him in a Waldorf school here.
I guess Waldorf would have been a much better fit. But, unfortunately, those schools are full (I do not wonder why...). Besides, we really just want him to go to school with kids from the neighborhood, make friends, learn German, and have a positive experience overall. The truth is, we are fine with how things are going. If we were to stay here for any longer period of time, yes, we would have to find something more academically appealing.
We have been telling the folks at both schools exactly this - but somehow, it seems to have a hard time sinking in. Guess we will just have to keep trying!
Friday, February 24, 2012
Numb3rs
I borrowed the title of this post from the television series - I miss you, Charlie!
This has nothing to do with Germany, per se. Just a celebration of geek hood...
Driving in the car with J, is often accompanied by unexpected conversational topics and questions (Mommy, what makes a planet a planet?). This evening, he said, "So, Mom, what is it with the number 3?" Instantly, of course, I think, 'it's the first odd prime'... But I do not say this aloud. I ask J, "What do you mean?" "You know, he says, people are always counting to 3... Like when you want us to hurry up and get ready for bed." "Actually, I count down from 5." "Oh, oh, right. I mean when people say 1,2,3 go. Why 3?" Hmmm, a little disappointed that he didn't realize I was counting down from 5. Says a bit about the amount of attention paid to dear old Mom... But he does seem to be on to something. We count to 3, to 5, to 10, but who counts to 6? Or 4? Or 7? And who picked these 'special numbers' to count to?
I have some numbers that I like. For a while here, mostly in December, the temperature outside hovered over 4 degrees Celsius. Every time I would look at the reading on the digital thermometer and it said '4 C', I would get a little silly... 4 degrees C is the point of maximum density of water at 1 atm. Water is as dense as it can be, I would think to myself. This is similar to the little giggle I get when I look at the clock and it is 3:14. Pi-oclock! Of course, the 2 digit decimal approximation is not really Pi-oclock, Pi-oclock must happen at some point between 3:14 and 3:15...
Next time someone asks you to pick a number between one and ten, do me a favor: pick e. (e is the base of the natural logarithm, a very special number).
This has nothing to do with Germany, per se. Just a celebration of geek hood...
Driving in the car with J, is often accompanied by unexpected conversational topics and questions (Mommy, what makes a planet a planet?). This evening, he said, "So, Mom, what is it with the number 3?" Instantly, of course, I think, 'it's the first odd prime'... But I do not say this aloud. I ask J, "What do you mean?" "You know, he says, people are always counting to 3... Like when you want us to hurry up and get ready for bed." "Actually, I count down from 5." "Oh, oh, right. I mean when people say 1,2,3 go. Why 3?" Hmmm, a little disappointed that he didn't realize I was counting down from 5. Says a bit about the amount of attention paid to dear old Mom... But he does seem to be on to something. We count to 3, to 5, to 10, but who counts to 6? Or 4? Or 7? And who picked these 'special numbers' to count to?
I have some numbers that I like. For a while here, mostly in December, the temperature outside hovered over 4 degrees Celsius. Every time I would look at the reading on the digital thermometer and it said '4 C', I would get a little silly... 4 degrees C is the point of maximum density of water at 1 atm. Water is as dense as it can be, I would think to myself. This is similar to the little giggle I get when I look at the clock and it is 3:14. Pi-oclock! Of course, the 2 digit decimal approximation is not really Pi-oclock, Pi-oclock must happen at some point between 3:14 and 3:15...
Next time someone asks you to pick a number between one and ten, do me a favor: pick e. (e is the base of the natural logarithm, a very special number).
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
My First German Pottery Class
I've posted about German ceramic art and craft before, i.e. that art and craft being are very separate things here, and the hobbyist is left to take weekly class at the Volkshochschule (VHS - community college). Partly in response to M imploring me to please get out of the house and 'do something' (blogging, apparently, does not count as 'doing something'), I signed up for a pottery course at the VHS.
There is an advanced class, but of course, that one meets on Wednesdays, when Z and J have soccer practice, so I signed up for the Monday (beginner-to-wherever-you-are) class. I figured this probably corresponded nicely to the class I have regularly attended at Claymakers in Durham (btw Liz: shouldn't CM have a .org URL now?). The CM Tuesday class has a pretty regular group of attendees, and an extremely informal syllabus (essentially, we just make requests and our wonderful mentor, Deborah Harris, demonstrates). It's a great group, and there are usually a couple of newcomers to add to the fun.
So, off I was last night. I left at dusk, in the car with the primitive transmission, and I drove into downtown Kiel. Here is a map of Kiel:
Ok, that is an exaggeration, I admit. But the concept of a grid has clearly not occurred to anyone here. This is what it really looks like:
View Larger Map
I actually found my way there, almost accidentally. On the few intersections where signs can be found, they have such tiny print and are so filthy, I have no chance of reading them. I pray for a red light so I can focus, squint, and guess where I am... but I got lucky this time.
I found the school, went in the door, and there was a very nice woman there, offering directions. I think she asked if she could help me. I shrugged, as I wondered if she actually could. "Toepfer Wirkstatt?", I managed. (Actually, what I really said was "Topfeh Wirkstatt", as the American in me cannot produce umlaut sounds, and the New Yorker in me has trouble with terminal r's.) She pointed down the stairs, and lucky me, there it was. I went in and sat a desk (part of a collection arranged in a round). No one else was there yet - I had left early upon anticipation of getting lost, stalling all the way there, or both.
I scanned the room. About 10 kickwheels... ohhh wait... there are 3 electric wheels. I couldn't help but think, "I was here first. I want a Shimpo." The class filed in slowly. A whole bunch of newbies, like me, sitting at the tables and waiting. Then the Three Wise Women (TWW) arrived. These are the 'repeat offenders', like my alter ego at Claymakers. They came in and got to work immediately, glazing works presumably from the class last semester.
The teacher came in - a very young woman (very young = more than 15 years younger than me... gets older every year.) - named Julia. She seemed very sweet, only slightly timid. I understood about 15% of what she said, mostly things like 'clay cost 7 euro' and 'glazing is 15 euro' (for the entire kiln, so, pretty cheap). Then people started to get up and move. I had been quietly waiting for the part where we go around the table and introduce ourselves, and I get to publicly butcher German grammar, sentence structure and mispronounce everything. But it didn't happen. Now what? The teacher has no idea that I haven't understood a whole lot of what she said - and - more importantly - I WANT A SHIMPO (are there dibs? how do I claim mine?). "Entschuldigung.... Ich (Ik) komme aus Amerika, und mein Deutsch is schlect...", stares, some smiles, an awkward silence... "Ummm... Kann Ich dieses toepferscheibe... ummm.... wie heisst 'use' auf Deutsch?" Somehow, the teacher understood and said that we can use whichever we like (of course, with 13 people and 3 electric... anyways, I put my tools and towels by one of the Shimpos.)
Next, the class moved into the room where the clay is kept, but none of the beginners took a bag, so I asked one of the TWW. I had printed out a very handy English-German pottery dictionary, so I could ask for smooth (weich), white (weiss) clay (ton), without grog (ohne Chamotte). There was only 1 option, 25 % grog :( Looks like I will be exfoliating my fingertips for a while...
Another woman introduced herself, in English! She was married to a New Zealander for many years, and speaks absolutely fluent English! Lovely! And, her kids (age 11 and 13) are English-German bilingual. This is really the perfect situation. Most of the class and the instructor do not speak English (means I get to practice), but if I am completely at a loss, there is a life-vest available. Yay!
Finally, I sat down with the clay, and 'warmed up' with some cylindrical forms. I had thrown a few, when the instructor stopped by and apologized that she does not speak English very well. I (hopefully) made it clear that I had no expectation that she speak to me in English - we are, after all, in Germany! She asked if I 'just try' to throw (i.e. without explanation), and I gestured toward the pots I had already made... Ich kann nicht so gut sprechen, aber Ich kann toepfer machen! I also explained that my husband told me to 'get out', and so I ended up there, in the ceramic studio. This brought laughter from the TWW, one of whom lived in France for a while, but does not speak French.
This is going to be fun.
Wow, this is a long post. If you have made it this far, I will reward you by ending here!
There is an advanced class, but of course, that one meets on Wednesdays, when Z and J have soccer practice, so I signed up for the Monday (beginner-to-wherever-you-are) class. I figured this probably corresponded nicely to the class I have regularly attended at Claymakers in Durham (btw Liz: shouldn't CM have a .org URL now?). The CM Tuesday class has a pretty regular group of attendees, and an extremely informal syllabus (essentially, we just make requests and our wonderful mentor, Deborah Harris, demonstrates). It's a great group, and there are usually a couple of newcomers to add to the fun.
So, off I was last night. I left at dusk, in the car with the primitive transmission, and I drove into downtown Kiel. Here is a map of Kiel:
Ok, that is an exaggeration, I admit. But the concept of a grid has clearly not occurred to anyone here. This is what it really looks like:
View Larger Map
I actually found my way there, almost accidentally. On the few intersections where signs can be found, they have such tiny print and are so filthy, I have no chance of reading them. I pray for a red light so I can focus, squint, and guess where I am... but I got lucky this time.
I found the school, went in the door, and there was a very nice woman there, offering directions. I think she asked if she could help me. I shrugged, as I wondered if she actually could. "Toepfer Wirkstatt?", I managed. (Actually, what I really said was "Topfeh Wirkstatt", as the American in me cannot produce umlaut sounds, and the New Yorker in me has trouble with terminal r's.) She pointed down the stairs, and lucky me, there it was. I went in and sat a desk (part of a collection arranged in a round). No one else was there yet - I had left early upon anticipation of getting lost, stalling all the way there, or both.
I scanned the room. About 10 kickwheels... ohhh wait... there are 3 electric wheels. I couldn't help but think, "I was here first. I want a Shimpo." The class filed in slowly. A whole bunch of newbies, like me, sitting at the tables and waiting. Then the Three Wise Women (TWW) arrived. These are the 'repeat offenders', like my alter ego at Claymakers. They came in and got to work immediately, glazing works presumably from the class last semester.
The teacher came in - a very young woman (very young = more than 15 years younger than me... gets older every year.) - named Julia. She seemed very sweet, only slightly timid. I understood about 15% of what she said, mostly things like 'clay cost 7 euro' and 'glazing is 15 euro' (for the entire kiln, so, pretty cheap). Then people started to get up and move. I had been quietly waiting for the part where we go around the table and introduce ourselves, and I get to publicly butcher German grammar, sentence structure and mispronounce everything. But it didn't happen. Now what? The teacher has no idea that I haven't understood a whole lot of what she said - and - more importantly - I WANT A SHIMPO (are there dibs? how do I claim mine?). "Entschuldigung.... Ich (Ik) komme aus Amerika, und mein Deutsch is schlect...", stares, some smiles, an awkward silence... "Ummm... Kann Ich dieses toepferscheibe... ummm.... wie heisst 'use' auf Deutsch?" Somehow, the teacher understood and said that we can use whichever we like (of course, with 13 people and 3 electric... anyways, I put my tools and towels by one of the Shimpos.)
Next, the class moved into the room where the clay is kept, but none of the beginners took a bag, so I asked one of the TWW. I had printed out a very handy English-German pottery dictionary, so I could ask for smooth (weich), white (weiss) clay (ton), without grog (ohne Chamotte). There was only 1 option, 25 % grog :( Looks like I will be exfoliating my fingertips for a while...
Another woman introduced herself, in English! She was married to a New Zealander for many years, and speaks absolutely fluent English! Lovely! And, her kids (age 11 and 13) are English-German bilingual. This is really the perfect situation. Most of the class and the instructor do not speak English (means I get to practice), but if I am completely at a loss, there is a life-vest available. Yay!
Finally, I sat down with the clay, and 'warmed up' with some cylindrical forms. I had thrown a few, when the instructor stopped by and apologized that she does not speak English very well. I (hopefully) made it clear that I had no expectation that she speak to me in English - we are, after all, in Germany! She asked if I 'just try' to throw (i.e. without explanation), and I gestured toward the pots I had already made... Ich kann nicht so gut sprechen, aber Ich kann toepfer machen! I also explained that my husband told me to 'get out', and so I ended up there, in the ceramic studio. This brought laughter from the TWW, one of whom lived in France for a while, but does not speak French.
This is going to be fun.
Wow, this is a long post. If you have made it this far, I will reward you by ending here!
Bleakness Quantified
Remember my informal rain/sun stats? It's been pretty lousy here for the past couple of days, and today is particularly bad because we are have 60-80 km/h wind gusts along with the rain. I was looking at the weather forecast, trying to decide if I should send the kids to soccer practice tonight, or just declare the weather unfit for American children. I found an interesting site with nice little graphs that explain just how rotten the weather really is here. Have a look! (I've included some excerpts below).
Here is the median cloud cover for an average February in Kiel:
 |
| The median daily cloud cover (black line) with percentile bands (inner band from 40th to 60th percentile, outer band from 25th to 75th percentile). |
"The median cloud cover is 89% (mostly cloudy) and does not vary substantially over the course of the month.For comparison, here is Chapel Hill in February (Durham is not listed. Bad Website, bad, bad!)
On February 14, a representative day, the sky is clear or mostly clear 10% of the time, partly cloudy 11% of the time, and mostly cloudy or overcast 66% of the time."
The median cloud cover ranges from mostly clear (14%) to mostly clear (19%).
The median daily cloud cover (black line) with percentile bands (inner band from 40th to 60th percentile, outer band from 25th to 75th percentile).
"On February 14, a representative day, the sky is clear or mostly clear 58% of the time, partly cloudy 3% of the time, and mostly cloudy or overcast 28% of the time."
Okay, okay, so February is bad up north. So what, you say. It will get better! Here's June:
The median cloud cover is 70% (partly cloudy) and does not vary substantially over the course of the month.
 |
The median daily cloud cover (black line) with percentile bands (inner band from 40th to 60th percentile, outer band from 25th to 75th percentile)."On June 15, a representative day, the sky is clear or mostly clear 23% of the time,partly cloudy 23% of the time, and mostly cloudy or overcast 46% of the time."
I guess you could call that 'better', in that Kiel looks better in June than Kiel does in February. On the other hand, Chapel Hill looks better in February than Kiel looks in June. Don't even get me started on the precipitation stats! You can have a look for yourself, if this hasn't bored you to death already.
|
Saturday, February 18, 2012
Word Salat
Many of you may be wondering how my Deutsch is going - but you have been polite enough not to ask, so in return, I thought I might share a bit.
I seem to be incapable of producing the 'ch' sound. Every time I say 'Ich' or 'nicht' or any word that requires you to clear your throat simultaneously while speaking, one of the kids looks at me and says, "No Mom, chhhhhhhh." I reply "kkkkk". "No", they say, chhhhhhh". Unfortunately, this means there is no detectable difference between words such as 'kuchen' and 'kuken'. During the Christmas holidays, I accused my children of eating too many baby chickens (kuken). I meant 'kuchen'. They found it very funny and could honestly say that they hadn't had any kuken at all... They have a friend named 'Nick', which is truly unfortunate. (In German, there are two main negations. One is 'kein', the other is 'nicht'.)
People do seem to understand some of what I say. I come home from the grocery store with mostly the correct items. I have learned a few of the most necessary terms for dog owners, such as 'maedchen' (girl), 'junge' (boy), 'freundlich' (friendly), 'angst' (fear), 'rasse' (breed). Most of my chatting has centered around either groceries or dogs, so these vocabularies are slowly improving.
The worst trouble (other than actually making the correct sounds, which is nearly impossible, and I may just give up getting that right), is that I don't seem to be able to remember words very well. Acquiring new vocabulary seems to be incredibly difficult for me - and may be related to my increasing inability to remember English words. I also have always been notoriously incompetent when it comes to remembering names, which is pretty much the same thing. As usual, numbers come easily. Ask me J's teacher's phone number. The house number of his friend L, or his other friend E. What bus does Z take to school? I see a number and it stays. Seemingly forever, often long past usefulness. But words? I hear them, or see them, and an instant later, they are all fuzzy, kinda like those letters you have to type to prove you aren't a robot (does anyone else find those impossible to read???)
I find that some people are a whole lot easier to talk to than others. One of my favorite people to converse with is L's mom (friend of J). She listens carefully to what I say, and then repeats my sometimes broken German into complete sentences for me. Oh, how I wish everyone would do this. I am going to try to remember this when I speak to people who are learning English. I guess it is exactly what one does with small children... perhaps that is partly why kids learn language so easily?
The upside, is that I am a really good listener, auf Deutsch. I don't interrupt people, or steer the conversation onto some tangent, then another, then another (a friend in grad school used to call me 'Tangent Janice'...). I just smile and nod and look sympathetic or laugh...
Perhaps another skill I could try to transfer...
I seem to be incapable of producing the 'ch' sound. Every time I say 'Ich' or 'nicht' or any word that requires you to clear your throat simultaneously while speaking, one of the kids looks at me and says, "No Mom, chhhhhhhh." I reply "kkkkk". "No", they say, chhhhhhh". Unfortunately, this means there is no detectable difference between words such as 'kuchen' and 'kuken'. During the Christmas holidays, I accused my children of eating too many baby chickens (kuken). I meant 'kuchen'. They found it very funny and could honestly say that they hadn't had any kuken at all... They have a friend named 'Nick', which is truly unfortunate. (In German, there are two main negations. One is 'kein', the other is 'nicht'.)
People do seem to understand some of what I say. I come home from the grocery store with mostly the correct items. I have learned a few of the most necessary terms for dog owners, such as 'maedchen' (girl), 'junge' (boy), 'freundlich' (friendly), 'angst' (fear), 'rasse' (breed). Most of my chatting has centered around either groceries or dogs, so these vocabularies are slowly improving.
The worst trouble (other than actually making the correct sounds, which is nearly impossible, and I may just give up getting that right), is that I don't seem to be able to remember words very well. Acquiring new vocabulary seems to be incredibly difficult for me - and may be related to my increasing inability to remember English words. I also have always been notoriously incompetent when it comes to remembering names, which is pretty much the same thing. As usual, numbers come easily. Ask me J's teacher's phone number. The house number of his friend L, or his other friend E. What bus does Z take to school? I see a number and it stays. Seemingly forever, often long past usefulness. But words? I hear them, or see them, and an instant later, they are all fuzzy, kinda like those letters you have to type to prove you aren't a robot (does anyone else find those impossible to read???)
I find that some people are a whole lot easier to talk to than others. One of my favorite people to converse with is L's mom (friend of J). She listens carefully to what I say, and then repeats my sometimes broken German into complete sentences for me. Oh, how I wish everyone would do this. I am going to try to remember this when I speak to people who are learning English. I guess it is exactly what one does with small children... perhaps that is partly why kids learn language so easily?
The upside, is that I am a really good listener, auf Deutsch. I don't interrupt people, or steer the conversation onto some tangent, then another, then another (a friend in grad school used to call me 'Tangent Janice'...). I just smile and nod and look sympathetic or laugh...
Perhaps another skill I could try to transfer...
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Happy Not Valentine's Day
Being in Germany for Valentine's Day is AWESOME! It is not celebrated here! I have gone through the entire month of February without once hearing 'Every kiss begins with Kay'- though it does ring in my head whenever I remember it is Valentine's Day, so there is still some residual trauma.
At the grocery store, there are no pink, heart-shaped boxes full of disgusting 'creme' (read hydrogenated oil whipped with sugar, artificial flavor and coloring) filled brown-stuff-pretending-to be-chocolate. There are no pink teddy bears holding pink balloons with 'I heart you' on them. There are no little boxes filled with heart-shaped (edible?) chalk that say 'Be Mine'. No greeting cards asking 'Will You Be My Valentine?' (Not even ones to give to your dog...). The flower bouquets are still stocked in the same quantities as they were last month, and the prices are the same. There are no ads in the newspaper for overpriced restaurant dinners (Valentine's Day Specials = Lower quality food for twice the price! Yay!)
I do not miss any of these things. But I do miss all of you (unless you are one of those readers from Russia... not sure why my blog stats have so many hits from there...)! Have a Happy... February 14th...
At the grocery store, there are no pink, heart-shaped boxes full of disgusting 'creme' (read hydrogenated oil whipped with sugar, artificial flavor and coloring) filled brown-stuff-pretending-to be-chocolate. There are no pink teddy bears holding pink balloons with 'I heart you' on them. There are no little boxes filled with heart-shaped (edible?) chalk that say 'Be Mine'. No greeting cards asking 'Will You Be My Valentine?' (Not even ones to give to your dog...). The flower bouquets are still stocked in the same quantities as they were last month, and the prices are the same. There are no ads in the newspaper for overpriced restaurant dinners (Valentine's Day Specials = Lower quality food for twice the price! Yay!)
I do not miss any of these things. But I do miss all of you (unless you are one of those readers from Russia... not sure why my blog stats have so many hits from there...)! Have a Happy... February 14th...
Friday, February 10, 2012
Zacharias hat Geburtstag
Many of you know that Z's birthday was yesterday. This is his first official birthday celebration in Germany, although we did celebrate his 6-month birthday one summer.
As always, we celebrate more than once - the actual day of, and then the 'party day'. Z has opted for a family party, no school or soccer friends. We will have burritos and carrot cake on Sunday (I actually scored some cilantro from Citti!)
Yesterday, we did gifts, cupcakes and gummis (these gummi-worm type things. Yuck!) at school, and then dinner in the restaurant of Z's choice.
I think his favorite gift was a computer game called 'Minecraft'. It has graphics that make it look like it's from the 1980s, but Z and J love it. You basically create a world, gather raw materials and build. He also got about 6 or 7 more English books, plus another book from the Warrior series, auf Deutsch. If you have never seen this series, just think 'Lord of the Rings', except instead of Hobbits, the major protagonists are cats. Of course, there was more Lego... and M decided that Z needed a new RC helicopter. It works great, so now M needs a new RC helicopter.
Ok. Those were the gifts, now, we get to the fun part. We found a little restaurant called 'Waldschaenke'. It is a pity that pretty much anyone reading this is in the U.S., because I would order you all to go and see this place - and eat there - the food is awesome.
The theme is a 'forest tavern', you know, where hunters might stop in for a beer and some schnitzel... Here are a few pics from the decor:
Aren't they cute? Too bad they're dead. What kind of person sees two adorable little fox pups, decides to kill them, and then have them stuffed and posed so sweetly? Multiple Personality Disorder? Oh, so cute. Kill them. Oh, look at these adorable dead foxes, I think I'll have them stuffed...
Here's another. Is this a ferret?
Oh, yes, there is more. Every table comes with a little friend:
And hung high, for all to enjoy:
Just look at that smile. What a happy dead wild boar! This next 'display' is near the door, so you can warm up your appetite while waiting for you table. It's Z's favorite, and he took the photo.
Yep. That's a dead animal in the process of killing another dead animal. And isn't he cute?
I don't know what it is, but we love this place. I think the kitch makes us giggle so much, and then the food... It is a Polish-German menu. That basically means pork fat, cream, butter, lots of salt, butter, more fat, salt, meat and more meat. Vegetables are basically a hidden garnish (mine were hidden under hollandaise last night).
M had perogis filled with meat and swimming in sauce. I thought I was getting 'schnitzel', which I thought was a thin pork filet, breaded, fried and covered in sauce - but I got a plate with a small piece of pork tenderloin (wrapped in bacon, 'cause why not?), a small chicken breast and a piece of red meat of unknown origin all covered in brown gravy with mushrooms. I gave the red meat to M, who eats basically anything. On the side, was a large bowl of bratkartoffeln (potatoes, fried with smoked pork belly). It was all so delicious - thank god I had M there to help me! Otherwise, I might have eaten the whole plate and my arteries would have clogged instantaneously. I know this description sounds maybe a little snippy - but I mean it in the best possible way. It really was so yummy.
The kids had pizza, of course. It really isn't pizza - it is more like a German dish called pfannkucken, which is a bit like the stuff they call 'pizza' in Chicago (which everyone knows isn't really pizza either. By 'everyone' I mean New Yorkers).
Anyway, I think Z had a good time:
As always, we celebrate more than once - the actual day of, and then the 'party day'. Z has opted for a family party, no school or soccer friends. We will have burritos and carrot cake on Sunday (I actually scored some cilantro from Citti!)
Yesterday, we did gifts, cupcakes and gummis (these gummi-worm type things. Yuck!) at school, and then dinner in the restaurant of Z's choice.
I think his favorite gift was a computer game called 'Minecraft'. It has graphics that make it look like it's from the 1980s, but Z and J love it. You basically create a world, gather raw materials and build. He also got about 6 or 7 more English books, plus another book from the Warrior series, auf Deutsch. If you have never seen this series, just think 'Lord of the Rings', except instead of Hobbits, the major protagonists are cats. Of course, there was more Lego... and M decided that Z needed a new RC helicopter. It works great, so now M needs a new RC helicopter.
Ok. Those were the gifts, now, we get to the fun part. We found a little restaurant called 'Waldschaenke'. It is a pity that pretty much anyone reading this is in the U.S., because I would order you all to go and see this place - and eat there - the food is awesome.
The theme is a 'forest tavern', you know, where hunters might stop in for a beer and some schnitzel... Here are a few pics from the decor:
Aren't they cute? Too bad they're dead. What kind of person sees two adorable little fox pups, decides to kill them, and then have them stuffed and posed so sweetly? Multiple Personality Disorder? Oh, so cute. Kill them. Oh, look at these adorable dead foxes, I think I'll have them stuffed...
Here's another. Is this a ferret?
Oh, yes, there is more. Every table comes with a little friend:
And hung high, for all to enjoy:
Just look at that smile. What a happy dead wild boar! This next 'display' is near the door, so you can warm up your appetite while waiting for you table. It's Z's favorite, and he took the photo.
Yep. That's a dead animal in the process of killing another dead animal. And isn't he cute?
I don't know what it is, but we love this place. I think the kitch makes us giggle so much, and then the food... It is a Polish-German menu. That basically means pork fat, cream, butter, lots of salt, butter, more fat, salt, meat and more meat. Vegetables are basically a hidden garnish (mine were hidden under hollandaise last night).
M had perogis filled with meat and swimming in sauce. I thought I was getting 'schnitzel', which I thought was a thin pork filet, breaded, fried and covered in sauce - but I got a plate with a small piece of pork tenderloin (wrapped in bacon, 'cause why not?), a small chicken breast and a piece of red meat of unknown origin all covered in brown gravy with mushrooms. I gave the red meat to M, who eats basically anything. On the side, was a large bowl of bratkartoffeln (potatoes, fried with smoked pork belly). It was all so delicious - thank god I had M there to help me! Otherwise, I might have eaten the whole plate and my arteries would have clogged instantaneously. I know this description sounds maybe a little snippy - but I mean it in the best possible way. It really was so yummy.
The kids had pizza, of course. It really isn't pizza - it is more like a German dish called pfannkucken, which is a bit like the stuff they call 'pizza' in Chicago (which everyone knows isn't really pizza either. By 'everyone' I mean New Yorkers).
Anyway, I think Z had a good time:
Thursday, February 9, 2012
From Fahrschule to Skiing... and Unlikely Segue
Liz and I had a little conversation regarding stick shifts, that interestingly enough, brought up the topic of skiing. Liz compared learning to drive stick as an adult, to learning how to ski as an adult. Terrifying at first, but exhilarating once you've learned. The reason I find this so interesting, is that coincidentally, skiing has something to do with why I have to learn to drive stick at the moment.
Now, just to orient you, I have never liked skiing. I hate snow (though I do like sledding). Being outside, surrounded by ice cold water, regardless of its crystalline structure, is just plain uncomfortable. Add a little wind, and it gets miserable. Proper gear helps, but I can never get my face covered in such a way that I am comfortable - yet not blinded by the condensation on my glasses.
Even if you could take away the snow, there's the really unnatural feeling that occurs when you strap long sticks onto your feet, and then try to move. Then, there are the heights. I do not like being above sea level. There isn't enough oxygen and it is cold. Plus, you have that feeling of imminent death when looking down a mountain. It scares me, and not in a good way.
Now, suppose I were able to get to the top of a snowy mountain and look down without throwing up or passing out (or both). The next step would be to go down. I have studied physics. I understand potential energy. I understand acceleration, and conservation of momentum. That very last one is the most important. For most mountains are not perfectly smooth slopes. They come with trees, rocks and other skiers. Depending upon size, at least the first two obstacles do not move when hit by a human, even at breakneck speed (hmmm.... I think there is an obvious etymology associated with that adjective). Thus, conservation of momentum tends to mostly affect one's skull and the contents therein. If one is lucky enough, perhaps the skull is spared and only the spine needs to pay. Or just a major bone or two...
What does all this have to do with manual transmissions? Well, for a while, we traded 'our' car for M's dad's car, which has an automatic transmission. We could have kept the car longer (until the snow melted? I was hoping...), but M's mom has to have knee surgery. She had hoped to put it off until we left, but she has been in constant pain for weeks now :(, so she finally had to give in and do it now. (There is a long recovery - but we are all hoping that she can be better - and pain free, by spring). This all means that M's mom cannot drive a car with a clutch for quite some time.
Now, we are talking about knees, so you know we are getting back to skiing. This last part is definitely not funny, and if you see something you think is sarcastic, it is most certainly not meant that way. Ir's a pretty sad story - but it is also family history, so I wanted to write it down.
I knew for a long time that M's mom had knee trouble. She had had surgery just around the time that M and I met, and she has had pain on and off as long as I have known her. I also knew that the knee troubles started when she was quite young, because she once told us that she had wanted 5 children, but after two pregnancies, the doctors told her that her knee would not hold up for a third. But, I never knew how the original injury occurred.
Well, you guessed it - skiing. In college, she went on a ski trip to Freiburg. She fell, and managed to break her leg, very, very badly. This was in the mid-1960s, so orthopedic medicine was not terribly advanced. She was placed in a hospital bed, in a room with a bunch of other skiers, all with legs wrapped in bandages and plaster and held up with a pulley (like the typical hospital scenes in movies - remember Sigourney Weaver in 'Working Girl'?). After several weeks, they discovered it hadn't been set quite right, so they adjusted and set her up again. I asked her if they at least gave her lots of pain meds, but she didn't remember. I told her I hoped they gave her a bunch of morphine...
Months later, after being released from the hospital, and being told to 'ride a bike' to get the seriously atrophied leg back in shape (so much for physical therapy in the 1960s!), she went to another doctor because she was in constant pain. He looked at her knee and said "No, that's not right." The leg had been set wrong, and as a result, her knee was turned in. The 'fix' was to break the leg and reset. Very understandably, she declined the procedure, having just spent half a year in bed with an intolerably itchy cast and who knows how much pain.
The surgery in the late 1990s set the leg properly, but years of strain on the knee left the joint in trouble. So finally, this month, she will get the knee replaced, and with any luck, this spring, she will have 50 years (!!) of physical repercussions from one ski trip reversed for good. Some other repercussions, such as the 3 siblings M and his sister never had, well, we just have to imagine what might have been.
Now, just to orient you, I have never liked skiing. I hate snow (though I do like sledding). Being outside, surrounded by ice cold water, regardless of its crystalline structure, is just plain uncomfortable. Add a little wind, and it gets miserable. Proper gear helps, but I can never get my face covered in such a way that I am comfortable - yet not blinded by the condensation on my glasses.
Even if you could take away the snow, there's the really unnatural feeling that occurs when you strap long sticks onto your feet, and then try to move. Then, there are the heights. I do not like being above sea level. There isn't enough oxygen and it is cold. Plus, you have that feeling of imminent death when looking down a mountain. It scares me, and not in a good way.
Now, suppose I were able to get to the top of a snowy mountain and look down without throwing up or passing out (or both). The next step would be to go down. I have studied physics. I understand potential energy. I understand acceleration, and conservation of momentum. That very last one is the most important. For most mountains are not perfectly smooth slopes. They come with trees, rocks and other skiers. Depending upon size, at least the first two obstacles do not move when hit by a human, even at breakneck speed (hmmm.... I think there is an obvious etymology associated with that adjective). Thus, conservation of momentum tends to mostly affect one's skull and the contents therein. If one is lucky enough, perhaps the skull is spared and only the spine needs to pay. Or just a major bone or two...
What does all this have to do with manual transmissions? Well, for a while, we traded 'our' car for M's dad's car, which has an automatic transmission. We could have kept the car longer (until the snow melted? I was hoping...), but M's mom has to have knee surgery. She had hoped to put it off until we left, but she has been in constant pain for weeks now :(, so she finally had to give in and do it now. (There is a long recovery - but we are all hoping that she can be better - and pain free, by spring). This all means that M's mom cannot drive a car with a clutch for quite some time.
Now, we are talking about knees, so you know we are getting back to skiing. This last part is definitely not funny, and if you see something you think is sarcastic, it is most certainly not meant that way. Ir's a pretty sad story - but it is also family history, so I wanted to write it down.
I knew for a long time that M's mom had knee trouble. She had had surgery just around the time that M and I met, and she has had pain on and off as long as I have known her. I also knew that the knee troubles started when she was quite young, because she once told us that she had wanted 5 children, but after two pregnancies, the doctors told her that her knee would not hold up for a third. But, I never knew how the original injury occurred.
Well, you guessed it - skiing. In college, she went on a ski trip to Freiburg. She fell, and managed to break her leg, very, very badly. This was in the mid-1960s, so orthopedic medicine was not terribly advanced. She was placed in a hospital bed, in a room with a bunch of other skiers, all with legs wrapped in bandages and plaster and held up with a pulley (like the typical hospital scenes in movies - remember Sigourney Weaver in 'Working Girl'?). After several weeks, they discovered it hadn't been set quite right, so they adjusted and set her up again. I asked her if they at least gave her lots of pain meds, but she didn't remember. I told her I hoped they gave her a bunch of morphine...
Months later, after being released from the hospital, and being told to 'ride a bike' to get the seriously atrophied leg back in shape (so much for physical therapy in the 1960s!), she went to another doctor because she was in constant pain. He looked at her knee and said "No, that's not right." The leg had been set wrong, and as a result, her knee was turned in. The 'fix' was to break the leg and reset. Very understandably, she declined the procedure, having just spent half a year in bed with an intolerably itchy cast and who knows how much pain.
The surgery in the late 1990s set the leg properly, but years of strain on the knee left the joint in trouble. So finally, this month, she will get the knee replaced, and with any luck, this spring, she will have 50 years (!!) of physical repercussions from one ski trip reversed for good. Some other repercussions, such as the 3 siblings M and his sister never had, well, we just have to imagine what might have been.
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
Fahrschule
I am learning to drive again. Yes, I learned to drive more than 28 years ago... but that was on a modern car, you know, the kind with an automatic transmission.
I have to tell you, I find this whole 'manually shifting gears' thing to be nonsense. Really, the wipers on the car can sense how fast to wipe the windshield, based on how much precipitation has fallen - but the motor needs to be told when to switch gears?
Once you have put the car in gear, the motor does not reflect the information back in anyway. Am I in 3rd gear or 5th? It would be nice to know. Do you think the car could tell me, maybe somewhere on the space age-looking digital display? Nope. It's a secret. I can look at the display, and see that the current song on the radio is by Cheryl Crowe and the title is "Like the Way I Do" (I refer you back to the Time Machine...). I can see the date, time and the current external temperature, how much gas we have, how far we have gone.... but nothing as critical as WHAT GEAR AM I IN? At least the manufactures could leave off that little leather cover on the stick. Maybe then I could see where the stick is in relation to the gears?
Truly ironic, that automatics are always labeled to tell you exactly whether you are in drive, neutral, reverse, park - even though you only rarely need to change from one to the other - and when you do, the car isn't moving! (Nor is there a very impatient and rude German driver behind you, about to drive directly into your back seat because you have - horrors of all horrors - slowed down.)
I did reach a milestone today - I drove - by myself to the grocery store, and, more importantly, I drove Z home from soccer practice. I only stalled when I was parking in our driveway! Yay!
I have to tell you, I find this whole 'manually shifting gears' thing to be nonsense. Really, the wipers on the car can sense how fast to wipe the windshield, based on how much precipitation has fallen - but the motor needs to be told when to switch gears?
Once you have put the car in gear, the motor does not reflect the information back in anyway. Am I in 3rd gear or 5th? It would be nice to know. Do you think the car could tell me, maybe somewhere on the space age-looking digital display? Nope. It's a secret. I can look at the display, and see that the current song on the radio is by Cheryl Crowe and the title is "Like the Way I Do" (I refer you back to the Time Machine...). I can see the date, time and the current external temperature, how much gas we have, how far we have gone.... but nothing as critical as WHAT GEAR AM I IN? At least the manufactures could leave off that little leather cover on the stick. Maybe then I could see where the stick is in relation to the gears?
Truly ironic, that automatics are always labeled to tell you exactly whether you are in drive, neutral, reverse, park - even though you only rarely need to change from one to the other - and when you do, the car isn't moving! (Nor is there a very impatient and rude German driver behind you, about to drive directly into your back seat because you have - horrors of all horrors - slowed down.)
I did reach a milestone today - I drove - by myself to the grocery store, and, more importantly, I drove Z home from soccer practice. I only stalled when I was parking in our driveway! Yay!
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
Die sechste Stunde faellt aus.
"The sixth hour fell out", Z explained to me over his cell phone. "I don't know when the bus comes, can you come and get me?" "What the heck are you talking about?", I asked. "The sixth hour fell out. I have to come home now! School is ending early." "Oh... now I get it." Of course, this was exactly as I was headed out the door to get J, so I had to pass him off to M, secretly jealous that M could take the car and I had to put on two pairs of pants, two sweaters, cuff warmers, ear covers, hat, gloves, scarf and boots to walk the 1.5 km to J's school.
So, 'faellt aus' or 'ausfallen' means 'fall out', when literally translated into English, though it is a German idiom for 'cancelled'. We giggled quite a bit over it, but in truth, classes falling out is a big problem here in Schlesswig-Holstein. So far, it is not clear to us whether the cancellations are increasing, or simply that parents are getting annoyed by it and just starting to complain.
We have noticed it too - Z has had 3 classes cancelled since the new term started last Tuesday. Two cancellations were due to teacher illness, and one was due to teacher unpreparedness: The art teacher didn't know that she was supposed to teach them that day (for a two-hour period), so they watched "Vorstadt Krokodile 2" in its entirety.
The day that Z phoned, I was very happy about 2 things: 1) I was warned by another parent who spent a year in Heidelberg that the schools will let out early without any warning and without contacting parents and 2) Z has a cell phone. I really don't know what he would have done without it. The bus only stops at the school once per hour before the official end of the day, and he had missed it by 5 minutes. Did I mention that there is snow everywhere here, and the temperature is well-below freezing? (If you are wondering what the other kids did, most of them bike to school, so they just leave and probably they have a key to get into the house. Or perhaps some also called their parents using cell phones. What is clear is that the school feels no responsibility to make sure the kids get home!)
Wondering if, for 5 euro, we might just get a cell for J too - just in case anything falls out of the Grundschule.
So, 'faellt aus' or 'ausfallen' means 'fall out', when literally translated into English, though it is a German idiom for 'cancelled'. We giggled quite a bit over it, but in truth, classes falling out is a big problem here in Schlesswig-Holstein. So far, it is not clear to us whether the cancellations are increasing, or simply that parents are getting annoyed by it and just starting to complain.
We have noticed it too - Z has had 3 classes cancelled since the new term started last Tuesday. Two cancellations were due to teacher illness, and one was due to teacher unpreparedness: The art teacher didn't know that she was supposed to teach them that day (for a two-hour period), so they watched "Vorstadt Krokodile 2" in its entirety.
The day that Z phoned, I was very happy about 2 things: 1) I was warned by another parent who spent a year in Heidelberg that the schools will let out early without any warning and without contacting parents and 2) Z has a cell phone. I really don't know what he would have done without it. The bus only stops at the school once per hour before the official end of the day, and he had missed it by 5 minutes. Did I mention that there is snow everywhere here, and the temperature is well-below freezing? (If you are wondering what the other kids did, most of them bike to school, so they just leave and probably they have a key to get into the house. Or perhaps some also called their parents using cell phones. What is clear is that the school feels no responsibility to make sure the kids get home!)
Wondering if, for 5 euro, we might just get a cell for J too - just in case anything falls out of the Grundschule.
Sunday, February 5, 2012
Pictures of the Snow
Tried to take some photos today. Unfortunately, the camera froze after being outside for 10 minutes, so we only have some photos of chestnut. We'll work on getting some of the kids - maybe tomorrow?
Below is Chestnut and one of her favorite Bovines. She doesn't seem to mind that a lot of them have horns.
Can you see the icicles hanging from her mouth?
This is the Au (small creek) that runs around our little subdivision.... frozen.
Below is Chestnut and one of her favorite Bovines. She doesn't seem to mind that a lot of them have horns.
Here she is just chillin' .... literally....
Playing with another happy dog
Can you see the icicles hanging from her mouth?
This is the Au (small creek) that runs around our little subdivision.... frozen.
Careful What You Wish For
So many sunny days lately, I am losing count.
Trouble is: today's 'high' temperature is predicted to be -5 C (a balmy 23 F). It is currently -8 C (17 F), and I am waiting for the mercury to rise before I wander outside for a five-minute walk. Any more than that gets painful. Tonight's low is predicted to be -16 C (3 F).
The kids have been sledding in this godawful weather, and for some reason, they refuse to dress appropriately. Yesterday, when they returned home freezing cold and covered in snow, we stripped them down so we could thaw them out in a warm bath. We discovered that Z was wearing only one pair of pants, and J was wearing only one pair of sweat pants - and going commando to boot. M and I explained the undesirability of getting frostbite, particularly on some delicate parts of the anatomy. J has promised to wear the long underwear we purchased for him, and Z will add a second pair of pants next time.
Chestnut thinks the weather is just dandy, and has been desperately digging in the frozen mole hills, hoping for a tasty treat. It's really funny to watch her dig and dig and dig, and then look up at us with a face completely covered in snow. Speaking of frozen treats, one advantage to this weather: the copious dog turds along the sidewalks and paths freeze almost instantly. The horse dung does as well, so when Chestnut finds a pile of this doggy perfume and rolls around in it, the aroma transfer is minimal.
The sledding is pretty awesome. There is a hill just down the block that has the perfect slope. I think we need to buy a couple more sleds, though. I get really impatient waiting for my turn...
Trouble is: today's 'high' temperature is predicted to be -5 C (a balmy 23 F). It is currently -8 C (17 F), and I am waiting for the mercury to rise before I wander outside for a five-minute walk. Any more than that gets painful. Tonight's low is predicted to be -16 C (3 F).
The kids have been sledding in this godawful weather, and for some reason, they refuse to dress appropriately. Yesterday, when they returned home freezing cold and covered in snow, we stripped them down so we could thaw them out in a warm bath. We discovered that Z was wearing only one pair of pants, and J was wearing only one pair of sweat pants - and going commando to boot. M and I explained the undesirability of getting frostbite, particularly on some delicate parts of the anatomy. J has promised to wear the long underwear we purchased for him, and Z will add a second pair of pants next time.
Chestnut thinks the weather is just dandy, and has been desperately digging in the frozen mole hills, hoping for a tasty treat. It's really funny to watch her dig and dig and dig, and then look up at us with a face completely covered in snow. Speaking of frozen treats, one advantage to this weather: the copious dog turds along the sidewalks and paths freeze almost instantly. The horse dung does as well, so when Chestnut finds a pile of this doggy perfume and rolls around in it, the aroma transfer is minimal.
The sledding is pretty awesome. There is a hill just down the block that has the perfect slope. I think we need to buy a couple more sleds, though. I get really impatient waiting for my turn...
Sunday, January 29, 2012
System Misadministration
Ahhhh... the sound of children quietly playing computer games. I have relaxed the screen rules while here in Germany, because of the following equivalence:
two brothers + nasty weather + lack of toys = violence
Not serious violence, just a 'he pinched me' here and there - but enough to drive me bonkers.
Unfortunately, the computer Z and J have been using has had some really irritating issues. M was worried about viral infections, malware, spyware, etc., so he installed McAffee. Ever since that install, the system was constantly brought to a screeching halt, and task manager told me that McAffee was essentially using all the system memory, leaving none for the other hungry programs. What a hog! I thought, "I'll fix you, you resource Bogart, you!" I went into 'Add/Change Programs' and hit 'Remove'. The computer thought about that for several minutes, then came back with an error message. I tried about a hundred more things, but could not get rid of the stupid program. I suppose I could have just removed all the programs from the hard drive, but then windows would probably hang in an endless loop looking for files that no longer existed.
I decided to install Linux. Ok, yes, this is what I had secretly wanted to do from the beginning - but I really did try to work with XP. It just was so uncooperative. Perhaps it has plans to run for Congress, I don't know. But I couldn't get it to budge.
I went to the Ubuntu site, downloaded the disk image, and burned a nice installation CD. Easy as Pi. I put it in the CD drive in Z's computer and fired up the computer, just waiting to see the lovely install screen. Windows booted. What??? I checked in the bios boot options, made sure that the CD was the first choice to boot. Tried again. Windows again. This was beginning to feel like a Twilight Zone episode. Windows and McAffee refused to leave my son's computer. Why couldn't I make them go away? It's not like I haven't installed operating systems hundreds of times over the past 2 decades.
I figured there must be an issue with the drive, and I hoped it was software-related (I can fix easy things, but I really don't know anything about optical drives). I googled. Found out that the drive in this particular computer is notorious for being flaky. I searched for firmware updates to no avail.
Finally, I thought, why not try the new USB install? I started searching, this time the old-fashioned way, by digging through desk drawers and backpacks and emptying shelves looking for a USB memory stick. None to be found. (M was in Brussels all last week, and he later told me he had 6 in his backpack.)
"I am not going back to that mall!", I thought. Amazon, here I come. I ordered the flash drive, and in two days, it was here. Ok, yes the mall would have been faster, but think about the minutes shaved off my lifespan by navigating the parking lot.
All of this took most of the week, if you can believe that. The good news is, it was totally worth it. The computer runs like a dream, and the kids are happy. Plus, we now have a whole suite of fun, educational, science-based programs and games - all free, and better than anything MS third-party providers have to offer.
Your move, windows. Your move...
two brothers + nasty weather + lack of toys = violence
Not serious violence, just a 'he pinched me' here and there - but enough to drive me bonkers.
Unfortunately, the computer Z and J have been using has had some really irritating issues. M was worried about viral infections, malware, spyware, etc., so he installed McAffee. Ever since that install, the system was constantly brought to a screeching halt, and task manager told me that McAffee was essentially using all the system memory, leaving none for the other hungry programs. What a hog! I thought, "I'll fix you, you resource Bogart, you!" I went into 'Add/Change Programs' and hit 'Remove'. The computer thought about that for several minutes, then came back with an error message. I tried about a hundred more things, but could not get rid of the stupid program. I suppose I could have just removed all the programs from the hard drive, but then windows would probably hang in an endless loop looking for files that no longer existed.
I decided to install Linux. Ok, yes, this is what I had secretly wanted to do from the beginning - but I really did try to work with XP. It just was so uncooperative. Perhaps it has plans to run for Congress, I don't know. But I couldn't get it to budge.
I went to the Ubuntu site, downloaded the disk image, and burned a nice installation CD. Easy as Pi. I put it in the CD drive in Z's computer and fired up the computer, just waiting to see the lovely install screen. Windows booted. What??? I checked in the bios boot options, made sure that the CD was the first choice to boot. Tried again. Windows again. This was beginning to feel like a Twilight Zone episode. Windows and McAffee refused to leave my son's computer. Why couldn't I make them go away? It's not like I haven't installed operating systems hundreds of times over the past 2 decades.
I figured there must be an issue with the drive, and I hoped it was software-related (I can fix easy things, but I really don't know anything about optical drives). I googled. Found out that the drive in this particular computer is notorious for being flaky. I searched for firmware updates to no avail.
Finally, I thought, why not try the new USB install? I started searching, this time the old-fashioned way, by digging through desk drawers and backpacks and emptying shelves looking for a USB memory stick. None to be found. (M was in Brussels all last week, and he later told me he had 6 in his backpack.)
"I am not going back to that mall!", I thought. Amazon, here I come. I ordered the flash drive, and in two days, it was here. Ok, yes the mall would have been faster, but think about the minutes shaved off my lifespan by navigating the parking lot.
All of this took most of the week, if you can believe that. The good news is, it was totally worth it. The computer runs like a dream, and the kids are happy. Plus, we now have a whole suite of fun, educational, science-based programs and games - all free, and better than anything MS third-party providers have to offer.
Your move, windows. Your move...
Thursday, January 26, 2012
Yay! It's been sunny for 3 days!
Ahhh, sunshine! For the past 3 days, we have been treated to the glow of our closest star. I think this brings the count to about 14 sunny days out of 49 days total. That's almost 30%, a bit better than the <25% the proportion was running before this week. Maybe it gets better towards summer?
It is freezing cold, now, however. I should have known that the miserable gray cloud did do one positive thing: it was keeping us warm (well, warmer than bitter cold!). Z played soccer last night and it was -3 C (Anyone know how to get this primitive blog editor to print special characters such as the degree symbol? Please let me know!). He came down, ready for practice in 3 pairs of pants, 3 shirts, 1 sweater, 2 jackets and 2 pairs of socks. He also had his shin guards on, but I don't think that was really necessary. The kid is definitely a trooper. I would have lasted about five minutes out there, but he played for 90. I have to remember to ask him which is worse - soccer in NC in August, or in Kiel in January? My answer would be both, and you should just play baseball in the spring in NY, but Z probably has a different opinion.
The kids had a really nice afternoon yesterday. Both had friends to play with, and they spent a couple of hours on the playground. Below is an elaborate 'fort' (the large hole in the sand). J, L and 'crew' have been working on this and another hole elsewhere in the playground for a few days now. It is too cute for words.
We may get snow here Monday or Tuesday... Had to happen, as precipitation is so frequent, and the temperature has been at or below freezing for the past couple of days.
I still maintain, in the absence of photographic evidence, that it is quite pretty here, when the sun comes out. I imagine Spring will be very pretty. Whose coming to visit?
It is freezing cold, now, however. I should have known that the miserable gray cloud did do one positive thing: it was keeping us warm (well, warmer than bitter cold!). Z played soccer last night and it was -3 C (Anyone know how to get this primitive blog editor to print special characters such as the degree symbol? Please let me know!). He came down, ready for practice in 3 pairs of pants, 3 shirts, 1 sweater, 2 jackets and 2 pairs of socks. He also had his shin guards on, but I don't think that was really necessary. The kid is definitely a trooper. I would have lasted about five minutes out there, but he played for 90. I have to remember to ask him which is worse - soccer in NC in August, or in Kiel in January? My answer would be both, and you should just play baseball in the spring in NY, but Z probably has a different opinion.
The kids had a really nice afternoon yesterday. Both had friends to play with, and they spent a couple of hours on the playground. Below is an elaborate 'fort' (the large hole in the sand). J, L and 'crew' have been working on this and another hole elsewhere in the playground for a few days now. It is too cute for words.
We may get snow here Monday or Tuesday... Had to happen, as precipitation is so frequent, and the temperature has been at or below freezing for the past couple of days.
I still maintain, in the absence of photographic evidence, that it is quite pretty here, when the sun comes out. I imagine Spring will be very pretty. Whose coming to visit?
Monday, January 23, 2012
German Education in a Nutshell
I always get a bit frustrated when I hear people trashing American public education, and lauding the merits of a system such as Germany. I always say, "But, but, they track the kids after fourth grade", which somehow seems ok to everyone. Well, I am here now, witnessing things first hand, and I still agree with myself.
For those unfamiliar, German schooling starts in grade 1, at age 6. Everyone gets to go to Grundschule until fourth grade. After that, there is a review of the student's 'performance' up to that point, and it is decided (by teachers and administrators, with timid input from parents) whether the child will be recommended to Gymnasium, Realschule, or Hauptschule. Gymnasium is the academic track. Kids who graduate from there will likely go to University. In Realschule, one learns a trade, to be better equipped for the work force. Hauptschule provides very basic education.
Fourth grade is a time of intense pressure for parents (and probably their kids, but I have only talked to parents, as children here, well, they speak German...). Appeals are possible, if parents disagree with the placement, but so far, both M and I have the impression that parents are not supposed to interfere much with decisions of teachers, so I have a hard time imagining someone going through the process. If anyone out there knows of such circumstances, please inform.
Now, let's say that you are a German parent, and your little Hannes has been lucky enough to obtain a recommendation to Gymnasium. Hold onto your seat, it is going to be a rough ride, at least for a while.
For many years, Western Germany had a 13-year system for Gymnasium. East Germany managed it all in 12 years, leaving the unified country to wonder why the 13th year. So, last year, after a couple of decades of squabbling, the curriculum was re-engineered to make 13 years happen in 12. Of course, to minimize impact, they spread the changes over all 12 years. Right? No. No, they didn't. They put all of the changes into fifth and sixth grade, and made seventh grade the new eighth.
The first two years are considered the 'weed-out' years. Not my take. Ask M's mom, a Gymnasium teacher for 30 or so years, or his sister, teacher and mother of 3, or my next door neighbor, or the one on the other side. They all say the same thing. Fifth and sixth grades are where your kid's future is determined (assuming little Hannes wasn't already written off at age 9).
Now consider that a whole lot of poor (or rich, if he's lucky) little Hannes' outcome is determined by his socio-economic status. Not by some democratic process. It's largely just his fate. Here is a short article (in English) regarding this issue in Germany:
http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2011/mar/15/germany-middle-class-inequality-schools
And here is a direct quote, for those of you too lazy (as I often am) to read the article (well, if you've read this blog entry up to this point, you are likely to be up to the task :)
"Inequality is rampant. Children from a privileged background are four times as likely to attend Gymnasium as a child with similar grades from a working-class home and, according to the federal education body KMK, children of immigrant families attend the Hauptschule twice as often as native children – even within the same socio-economic class."
Sound familiar? We are all painfully aware of this sort of thing in the U.S., and equalizing opportunity to account for economic inequality is something people have been struggling with since, well, since forever. Or maybe not. Most Germans I have talked to just shrug it off and move on, and the article above suggests that most are happy with the system. Then again, all the people I meet have their kids in Gymnasium or are hoping to get them there...
But clearly, some things are changing. My next-door neighbor teaches at one of the 'inclusive' schools. This type of school essentially takes the students from Gymnasium, Hauptschule and Realschule, puts them under one roof and attempts to teach them all that is required for University. Hmmm.... sound like any school system you have heard of?
Now that we understand how the students are tracked (and what the proposed solution is), consider a few other issues with the system here:
Grundschule ends at 12:30pm. Gymnasium ends the day at 1:20pm. Where do the kids go after that? Well, they used to go home (and eat lunch, no such thing as a school cafeteria). But now, as more families require dual incomes to stay afloat, they go to aftercare. Or the Gymnasium begins to serve lunch (pizza broetchen anyone? I am not kidding), and has classes that go all the way till 3:30! Then, there are 'extras' that go until 5pm. Germans are now talking about 'reliable' schools, i.e. schools that can be relied upon to provide childcare until 5pm when parents get home from work. Interesting idea...
What about financing? Think the U.S. needs to spend more on education? As percentage of GDP, the U.S. spends 5.5% of it's GDP on education. Germany spends 4.5% GDP on education. I am guessing this number will increase, as at the moment, there is no national school lunch program, and very little busing is provided. Are you thinking, "But Germans do not have the same poverty issues, and so do not need to provide meals or bus kids from poor neighborhoods to better schools"? Well, income disparity is lower, but percentage of population below poverty level is 15% for both the U.S. and for Germany. (All these numbers are from the CIA World Fact Book, in case you were wondering.) They will certainly need busing and free lunches, if they are interested in equalizing the system.
My prediction: Germany's system will begin to look very much the U.S. system in the coming decade, if trends continue. Not sure that's even a bad thing, at least from a fairness perspective. Or maybe not? Maybe Germany will find a better solution?
For those unfamiliar, German schooling starts in grade 1, at age 6. Everyone gets to go to Grundschule until fourth grade. After that, there is a review of the student's 'performance' up to that point, and it is decided (by teachers and administrators, with timid input from parents) whether the child will be recommended to Gymnasium, Realschule, or Hauptschule. Gymnasium is the academic track. Kids who graduate from there will likely go to University. In Realschule, one learns a trade, to be better equipped for the work force. Hauptschule provides very basic education.
Fourth grade is a time of intense pressure for parents (and probably their kids, but I have only talked to parents, as children here, well, they speak German...). Appeals are possible, if parents disagree with the placement, but so far, both M and I have the impression that parents are not supposed to interfere much with decisions of teachers, so I have a hard time imagining someone going through the process. If anyone out there knows of such circumstances, please inform.
Now, let's say that you are a German parent, and your little Hannes has been lucky enough to obtain a recommendation to Gymnasium. Hold onto your seat, it is going to be a rough ride, at least for a while.
For many years, Western Germany had a 13-year system for Gymnasium. East Germany managed it all in 12 years, leaving the unified country to wonder why the 13th year. So, last year, after a couple of decades of squabbling, the curriculum was re-engineered to make 13 years happen in 12. Of course, to minimize impact, they spread the changes over all 12 years. Right? No. No, they didn't. They put all of the changes into fifth and sixth grade, and made seventh grade the new eighth.
The first two years are considered the 'weed-out' years. Not my take. Ask M's mom, a Gymnasium teacher for 30 or so years, or his sister, teacher and mother of 3, or my next door neighbor, or the one on the other side. They all say the same thing. Fifth and sixth grades are where your kid's future is determined (assuming little Hannes wasn't already written off at age 9).
Now consider that a whole lot of poor (or rich, if he's lucky) little Hannes' outcome is determined by his socio-economic status. Not by some democratic process. It's largely just his fate. Here is a short article (in English) regarding this issue in Germany:
http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2011/mar/15/germany-middle-class-inequality-schools
And here is a direct quote, for those of you too lazy (as I often am) to read the article (well, if you've read this blog entry up to this point, you are likely to be up to the task :)
"Inequality is rampant. Children from a privileged background are four times as likely to attend Gymnasium as a child with similar grades from a working-class home and, according to the federal education body KMK, children of immigrant families attend the Hauptschule twice as often as native children – even within the same socio-economic class."
Sound familiar? We are all painfully aware of this sort of thing in the U.S., and equalizing opportunity to account for economic inequality is something people have been struggling with since, well, since forever. Or maybe not. Most Germans I have talked to just shrug it off and move on, and the article above suggests that most are happy with the system. Then again, all the people I meet have their kids in Gymnasium or are hoping to get them there...
But clearly, some things are changing. My next-door neighbor teaches at one of the 'inclusive' schools. This type of school essentially takes the students from Gymnasium, Hauptschule and Realschule, puts them under one roof and attempts to teach them all that is required for University. Hmmm.... sound like any school system you have heard of?
Now that we understand how the students are tracked (and what the proposed solution is), consider a few other issues with the system here:
Grundschule ends at 12:30pm. Gymnasium ends the day at 1:20pm. Where do the kids go after that? Well, they used to go home (and eat lunch, no such thing as a school cafeteria). But now, as more families require dual incomes to stay afloat, they go to aftercare. Or the Gymnasium begins to serve lunch (pizza broetchen anyone? I am not kidding), and has classes that go all the way till 3:30! Then, there are 'extras' that go until 5pm. Germans are now talking about 'reliable' schools, i.e. schools that can be relied upon to provide childcare until 5pm when parents get home from work. Interesting idea...
What about financing? Think the U.S. needs to spend more on education? As percentage of GDP, the U.S. spends 5.5% of it's GDP on education. Germany spends 4.5% GDP on education. I am guessing this number will increase, as at the moment, there is no national school lunch program, and very little busing is provided. Are you thinking, "But Germans do not have the same poverty issues, and so do not need to provide meals or bus kids from poor neighborhoods to better schools"? Well, income disparity is lower, but percentage of population below poverty level is 15% for both the U.S. and for Germany. (All these numbers are from the CIA World Fact Book, in case you were wondering.) They will certainly need busing and free lunches, if they are interested in equalizing the system.
My prediction: Germany's system will begin to look very much the U.S. system in the coming decade, if trends continue. Not sure that's even a bad thing, at least from a fairness perspective. Or maybe not? Maybe Germany will find a better solution?
Saturday, January 21, 2012
Close Call
Please note: this post is unlikely to be funny, because, well it's not funny. But - be aware that the story has a happy ending, and the little boy you are about to read about is safe at home as I type.
It is safe to say that J has a pretty loyal little playmate in our neighbor Leon. He is a sweet kid, though he does have a hard time taking 'no' for an answer. Hopefully, when he is an adult, this will translate into a tenaciousness that brings him all kinds of good things, but for now, it is (only slightly) irritating.
This morning the phone rang at 10:30am, and immediately, I said, "It's L". And it was. Inviting J to soccer practice once again. Really, very sweet. J got his gear together, and off he went for a couple of hours. M started working, Z was very busy designing and building a lego technics gondola in his room, so I spent the afternoon making more pots (to be continued....)
When J arrived home from practice, we had a late lunch, and another neighbor came calling, a boy named 'Nick', brother of Max, mentioned in an earlier post as a companion of Christian. Both Max and Nick were over yesterday afternoon, and it was really a great vibe. Two pairs of brothers playing very well together. The mom stopped by to introduce herself, and we really liked her too. Max said some nice things about my pots, which of course, wins him very high regard from yours truly :)
Anyway, back to today. At about 2pm, Nick was over and Leon rang the bell. J answered, because I was covered in clay. They conversed, and J said something like, "I can't, I have a friend over". L left. The rest of the afternoon was pretty uneventful (Well, except for the awesome series of gondola designs that Z was coming up with).
At 4:30 the phone rang. It was Leon's dad. He said he was going short shopping (ok, little joke,,, kurz einkaufen), he would be home in 20 minutes and we could send Leon then. "Uh.... Aber, Leon ist nicht hier...", I stammered, and then said, "Martin, can you come here please?". M spoke to Leon's dad and then hung up the phone.I asked, "so? What did he say", still trying to understand how serious the situation might be. "Well, he said is has happened before, and he will ring a few bells in the neighborhood and look." Ok, I thought. Probably went to another friend's place. M asked the dad to call us when L was found. M went over to the playground to see if he could find L. He found L's dad, also looking. Then the dad drove around Suchsdorf, looking for L.
We stayed at home, painfully doing nothing, as there was nothing to do. We don't know the family very well, and couldn't launch an all-out search campaign as near strangers. We were very worried, really just waiting to hear back. I thought, "If either of my kids ever goes missing, I am toast". I barely know this kid and I am crying and can't let it go until I know he is safe.
At about 7:15pm the phone rang again. It was L's dad. L was home. He had been across the street from their house, somehow, the dad hadn't thought of checking there (maybe L rarely goes there, I don't know). But he is fine. Took M and I an hour and a glass of wine to release the worry-tension.
Remember how I said L could be 'slightly irritating'? I don't think it will bother me much anymore. I spent a couple of hours so worried about him. That vulnerability, the reminder that he is just a little boy ought to keep me on his side for a good long time.
It is safe to say that J has a pretty loyal little playmate in our neighbor Leon. He is a sweet kid, though he does have a hard time taking 'no' for an answer. Hopefully, when he is an adult, this will translate into a tenaciousness that brings him all kinds of good things, but for now, it is (only slightly) irritating.
This morning the phone rang at 10:30am, and immediately, I said, "It's L". And it was. Inviting J to soccer practice once again. Really, very sweet. J got his gear together, and off he went for a couple of hours. M started working, Z was very busy designing and building a lego technics gondola in his room, so I spent the afternoon making more pots (to be continued....)
When J arrived home from practice, we had a late lunch, and another neighbor came calling, a boy named 'Nick', brother of Max, mentioned in an earlier post as a companion of Christian. Both Max and Nick were over yesterday afternoon, and it was really a great vibe. Two pairs of brothers playing very well together. The mom stopped by to introduce herself, and we really liked her too. Max said some nice things about my pots, which of course, wins him very high regard from yours truly :)
Anyway, back to today. At about 2pm, Nick was over and Leon rang the bell. J answered, because I was covered in clay. They conversed, and J said something like, "I can't, I have a friend over". L left. The rest of the afternoon was pretty uneventful (Well, except for the awesome series of gondola designs that Z was coming up with).
At 4:30 the phone rang. It was Leon's dad. He said he was going short shopping (ok, little joke,,, kurz einkaufen), he would be home in 20 minutes and we could send Leon then. "Uh.... Aber, Leon ist nicht hier...", I stammered, and then said, "Martin, can you come here please?". M spoke to Leon's dad and then hung up the phone.I asked, "so? What did he say", still trying to understand how serious the situation might be. "Well, he said is has happened before, and he will ring a few bells in the neighborhood and look." Ok, I thought. Probably went to another friend's place. M asked the dad to call us when L was found. M went over to the playground to see if he could find L. He found L's dad, also looking. Then the dad drove around Suchsdorf, looking for L.
We stayed at home, painfully doing nothing, as there was nothing to do. We don't know the family very well, and couldn't launch an all-out search campaign as near strangers. We were very worried, really just waiting to hear back. I thought, "If either of my kids ever goes missing, I am toast". I barely know this kid and I am crying and can't let it go until I know he is safe.
At about 7:15pm the phone rang again. It was L's dad. L was home. He had been across the street from their house, somehow, the dad hadn't thought of checking there (maybe L rarely goes there, I don't know). But he is fine. Took M and I an hour and a glass of wine to release the worry-tension.
Remember how I said L could be 'slightly irritating'? I don't think it will bother me much anymore. I spent a couple of hours so worried about him. That vulnerability, the reminder that he is just a little boy ought to keep me on his side for a good long time.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)