With Thanks

I keep waiting for the big freak-out. I am convinced that soon I will suddenly realize I have left everyone and everything I am familiar with to move across the world (don't worry I've seen the map, I'm exaggerating) and totally lose it. I know the meltdown is coming any...day...now. Yet here we are, a week past our three month-mark and with the exception of my bitterness towards the bitterness that is our weather, I'm not freaking out. Quite frankly, I'm totally shocked by it. I realize there is a slight chance that writing about it may jinx the amazing-ness, but I'll cross my fingers.



NOT a must-have.


I attribute the comfort I feel in Hamburg to multiple things. I was following a dream coming here. I have always wanted to see the world and living in a German city most Michiganders have never heard seemed like, and has proven to be, a great way to start. I had always wanted to make the move but didn't have the courage to actually do it. Prior to entering the teaching force I was close to making the move to teach abroad. I was too scared to do it--too scared I would fail, too scared I'd be too far behind when I came back, too scared I'd miss out on the important stuff at home. Four years of teaching, soul-searching, and relationship-building worked to my advantage and I finally was strong enough to take the plunge when the time came (No, Reggie and I haven't "gone to Denmark"--German lingo for 'eloped.'). I am still scared I'll fail, but am less scared that I used to be and the chance of failing doesn't matter as much to me now. Now, I realize the social capital and life experiences I'll gain from my time in wurst-world won't let me fall behind but would be worth it even if they did. And, with many thanks to those techy folks that brought us FB and Skype, I don't feel like I've missed a thing in the lives of all you important folks I love back home, though I sure miss you.

I learned early on that life is short. So, I have always pushed forward as fast as I can in order to meet all my goals. I understand that there's a downside to this. While go-getting is a great thing, enjoying what is around us is even greater. I've learned to do this here in my exciting new home. Perhaps it is because our time here is limited. Funny how this can be taken two ways: while our time in Hamburg is limited, so is our time in life. Though I thought I understood the meaning of "life is short" it took a move to Hamburg to really get on the horn and soak up all the good stuff going on around me. Luckily there's a lot of it to soak in.

Since our arrival we've been looked after by Reg's co-workers. Really, I should refer to them as the Susat Angels. It is the only name that truly suits them. They have helped us with everything under the sun Deutschland flag from setting up bank accounts to installing light fixtures to giving us a TV to moving Rosie the Heaviest Couch on Earth. To them we are forever indebted. Since joining the Seedlings team I have been looked after by Angel Rachael and Angel Grit who have welcomed me into their Seedlings baby and treated me like a friend from the start. To the countless strangers that offered to help me carry the heavy loads of housewares I should never have attempted to carry in the first place, to the waiters at our favorite restaurants that welcome us with, "Hey guys!" and to the friends we've made that are sharing this unique experience with us and for their hospitality, we owe ya ten.

I predicted that our move would teach me all about how different my culture is from the one I'm now surrounded with. It did--but much more than that our move has taught me how similiar we all are. There are good, kind people all over the world. Lucky for me I have never had to look very hard and Germany is no exception.

There's a massive chance that all of these things are the reason my dreaded freak-out hasn't gobbled me up yet.

That's better. Two, please.

I love music as much as the next person. Of all the great things music does for us, I admire the ability it has and has always had to open the memory floodgates and turn on my feeling-extra-grateful side. After a day of teaching my beautiful multicultural kiddos in a serene school and then trying desperately to learn even some of the impossibly frustrating language I am surrounded by in yet another evening class, and finally the typical evening house tasks that always seem to include more dishes than I can remember using, in our lovely new home--I sit, or fall, rather, down to my beloved music and put on tunes to help me on my way to the relaxation zone. Without fail, the relaxation zone inevitably becomes the grateful zone. The grateful zone is when I am at my most peaceful best and is when I do my best, most appreciative thinking, talking, and writing. Maybe its because I tend to be quite the optimist, or maybe its because though a challenge life is really, really good, but when thinking of this incredible German experience and all the support Reggie and I had leading up to it, I have no trouble finding things to be appreciative of. So, with all this in mind I'll pass on the panic and freak-out, and continue to carry on calmly.





Images from waywardsentiment.blogspot.com and http://store.northshoreshirts.com/kecaandcaont.html

Flat #2

I have never made an effort to disguise my dislike of moving. I strongly believe that moving from one house to another is the ultimate chore. No matter how much I prepare with bins, labels, helping hands, and Good Will's number on hand it always comes down to a scramble to the finish. The move always takes much more time and help than you think because you always have so much more than you thought. Downsizing prior to our move to Hamburg was not only liberating but was also a relief; the notion that the task would make all future moving tasks feel like a breeze was enough to keep me going through the process. But alas, that all seems extraordinarily naive now that we've moved into our new apartment (in a foreign country and without a car).

Once our very long, very German leasing agreement was signed and keys were handed over (which took quite some time, as I'm sure you'll understand.) it was time for the real fun to start.

(+ Reggie's set.) There are two keys for every window in our apartment. Can you imagine if we had a two-bedroom unit?!

Holger and Henning, Reg's boss and co-worker, graciously volunteered to help us move from our third-floor temporary flat (which really means fourth floor in Europe) to our new first-floor place. "It'll be easy," said Holger, "you only have your suitcases." "Yep," I said, "and a couch and a couple of tables we bought from some friends. No problem." With a car and a van and four sets of helping hands the job sounded simple enough.

After dropping off our measely five suitcases and three boxes of stuff from the US to make room for the new furniture our friends from Chicago so kindly sold us, we geared up for the big stuff. Our friends live on the first floor (which of course is actually the second floor) just one train stop from our new place. After a quick set-back in trying to find rope to strap the box spring to the top of the minivan we were on our way. Several coffee and end tables and a bed done left only the couch to go. Mary had warned me of the gargantuan size and inexplicable weight of the couch. When I had initially come to check it out I only saw three of the four pieces (yes, four) because that is all that would fit in their (very large) living room. Because all was going well and only the couch remained we released Henning to go enjoy his Friday night properly and Holger and Reggie started with the couch.  

The labor involved in moving this couch (which would  not fit in the elevator, of course) cannot properly be described in words. I opted to avoid making matters worse and did not take pictures. This couch is a huge, red monster that may as well be cemented to our floor because it should never be moved again in order to respect the massive effort that Holger and Reggie put into moving it. Holger and Reggie finally quit after attempting to lift the last piece, the notorious sleeper section, which abruptly fell out onto the floor and left a mark that no one can ignore. Holger was first to respond: "It'll have to wait."

Reggie and I have bought and made several meals for Holger since then. In my book, we still owe him at least a bajillion more.

 

Pieces 1, 2, and 3 of 4 of the Rotes Tier (red beast)
Holger would say she's not as nice as she looks.



As happy as we were to have Day 1 done, Reg and I both knew that Day 2 was quickly coming and that we could never ask Holger to spend his Saturday helping us collect the other various goods we had scheduled to pick up that day. Renting a van seemed like an obvious choice. Once we finally located one (and a sales rep. we could communicate with) we took a 45-minute train then bus ride to the opposite side of town to collect our conversion van. Lucky for us a staff member was nice enough to come and get us from the bus stop because we didn't have a clue where to go once we got off the bus. After signing our lives away and paying the fee we got to see our van. For me, driving a big van is like riding a bike being that I learned to drive in my dad's 1987 Chevy van. I was pretty darn excited. Reggie and I got in and just as we were having the GPS changed to English we saw it. Oh no.  Reg was the first to utter the dreaded words..."It's a manual?"

We looked at each other. Uh-oh. I could feel our day falling down around us in tiny pieces and stabbing us both as it fell. We had already pushed back two pick-up times and now we were going to have to cancel altogether. The stress was mounting. And then the employee said, "It's simple. Anyone can do it." More stress.

If you're like Reggie and I and have tried to learn to drive a stick shift multiple times to no avail you understand the anxiety that comes along with it. I immediately had flashbacks of being shouted at by my friend who had so graciously tried to teach me to drive a manual so I could stop asking her to drive me to do my college errands. "STOP! You're breaking my car! Get out! Get out!" The words were like knives. Oh, the terror. This memory came flooding back in full force and my shoulders were instantly at my ears. Reggie, the calm, willing man that he is, was willing to give it a shot after I tried for several minutes and gave up. Since the rental office was now closed, the employee offered to take us for a short lesson around the block. If we had more time I'm sure Reggie would've gotten the hang of it, but the stress of having to learn on the spot and then driving in this new way around a city we're not fully familiar with worked against us. In the end we found ourselves back on the bus cancelling our pick-ups for the day.

As much as we didn't want to talk about it Day 3 was coming and we needed a van to collect our goods. After scouring Toytown (a crucial site for English speaking folks living in Germany) I found an ad for "Man with a Van." His ratings were high, his van looked big, and I was going to make him our guy. Ernesto was easy to reach, spoke perfect English, and would be there to pick us up the next morning. Hallelujah.




The Man with a Van, our hero


Ernesto the Wonderful took us first to collect our new fridge, bedside tables, lamps, and other kitchen necessities from an ad I found on Toytown. Julia and Ben, who we've since become friends with, moved to Hamburg from Melbourne in January and February of last year and understood our pain in trying to furnish our new flat from scratch. They passed on all their kitchen doubles to Reggie and I--from a fridge to a bottle opener. They were very helpful--and Julia wasn't even the slightest bit mad when we showed up early and found her in her pajamas. (Sorry, Julia!)

After collecting our new dresser from a very loud, very muscular German, we thanked Ernesto repeatedly and wished him well. Then we looked at each other and laughed. Now what?

Reggie left for Frankfurt for work the next day and I took it upon myself to get the place in working order.  That week my goal changed from "see as much as I can in this awesome city" to "make it home before the bags break." Not that it even needs to be stated, but furnishing an apartment without a car is as hard as it sounds.

As difficult as walking multiple blocks with pots, pans, and glass and ceramic ware is, maneuvering the laundry machines was harder. First, they get you with their appearance...

Yiiiiikes! The flourescent lighting and white tile on the floor and walls add to the terror.

I have been fortunate to have never have had to use coin-operated laundry machines until now. In my college dorm we had the luxury of swiping our magic ID cards and the washers and dryers would work flawlessly. Now, more than five years worth of technology later I'm going to the bank to buy rolls of fifty cent pieces. Is it too much to ask to be able to use a card to use these machines? And where is my jet-pack and Rosie the Robot?!

The first load took three days and 7 euro, and that didn't include drying the clothes. When I finally tracked down the cleaning lady to help me I learned that you can ONLY use fifty-cent pieces and you must turn the water on before starting the washer. Who knew?

Reggie returned shortly before his birthday and I was happy to be able to surprise him with the fourth piece of the red beast already in the living room along with our new dining room table, courtesy of Ernesto. Of course, Holger was as happy to hear he didn't have to move the last piece of the couch as Reggie was.

We took a break from our new abode to celebrate the eighth anniversary of Reggie's 21st birthday in Spain and we milked every second of the time away. All that R&R was almost enough to prepare us for our next assignment: Ikea.

I could extend the length of this already-long story by pages describing in detail our initial trip to Ikea. Instead, I'll list a few key notes:

• 7 hours
• 4 carts
• Never again



See Reg waaayy up there? All those must-haves between him and the camera went home with us (via Ikea's delivery service). Even with all that seven hours seems excessive.

 

Because we bought the giant bookshelf at a discounted price we were told we'd need to disassemble it prior to having it delivered. (Whaaa?) Our protesting proved obsolete when we were both handed screwdrivers. In the end we resolved to disassembling our bookshelf in the middle of the customer service department. That was the last of the seven grueling hours.

Once the items were delivered we went to work on them. We assembled two closets but were surprised to learn that in order to attach them to the wall you need a special drill. One of Reg's co-workers was kind enough to loan us one and it looks and sounds like a small jackhammer. I refuse to go near it so no one gets confused and thinks I may be willing to use it, but Reg is brave and has taken care of the mounting for us. Good man, Reggie.

Now that we have a place to hang our hats (and coats and pants), lighting, seating, towels, cutlery, and more the feeling of being settled is coming quickly. I have located our grocery store and cleaners and we know of plenty of places to grab a bite. We are happy with our 'hood and the apartment finally feels like ours. We are working on framing our travel photography and art we've bought throughout our travels and although the place is still a bit bare we're comfortable. And really, if we're ever going to experiment with minimalism now is the time. 


Last week we hosted our first dinner and recieved a housewarming gift:



Bread, salt, and a penny so that we never suffer hunger. (The looks on our faces must have been of confusion because the explanation came very quickly.)



And this sweet thing just because its so pretty.





The work has paid off. It's ours and we're thrilled with it.

Hamburger Bilder der Woche 2

Hamburg Pictures of the Week 2

Guten Tag! (Good day!--Not a bad start, right?) One month of German language lessons down and many, many more needed. My language school, Colon, offers more than twenty languages as well as classes in all formats. My class meets three evenings each week for 1.5 hours and although I want to bang my head against the table for the majority of each class, it is not nearly enough. The sixteen different forms of "the" are, well, darn near impossible to wrap my brain around as is the fact that the language includes sounds and letters that are not a part of the good 'ole ABCs. I know, I know...give it time.

There are eight students in my class and we are as multicultural as Seedlings. Two are from Mexico and are in Hamburg for graduate internships, there are two video game programmers--one from Italy and one from Poland, a Russian scientist/professor that has been living in Chicago but moved here to do science-y things, and a Brazilian and Brit also here for work. All speak fluent English. Another point for Hamburg for offering me a lesson in multculturalism.

When my fabulous friend Colleen offered to send me the hair product and travel book that I was so desperately missing from the mitten we expected the normal post office routine we're all familiar with. The plan was simple: Colleen would take it to the post office, Lauren would pick it up from the post office. That all seems so naive now. Much to our dismay, a month-long battle with USPS and Deutsche Postbank got in the way of me and my beloved goods. Upon arrival at USPS in early August Colleen was told that the package would take about two weeks to reach me. We discussed that having it shipped to our new apartment would be best because we'd be moving in within that time.

Several packages arrived during the next few weeks and each time I got the golden ticket notification, I hurried to the post office (offices, rather, as we are serviced by three different ones (?)). Lovely teaching books and supplies from thoughtful friends were very much appreciated and a thrill to receive, but I couldn't help but wonder when September 1 rolled around and I was still without my Aveda hair product and Rick Steves' travel-planning assistance. We both made massive attempts to track down the mysterious package. Colleen, without any help from UPS, was able to find out that the package had in fact left the US. She gave me the customs numbers which we were sure would help but alas, only provided me with confused, wrinkled brows from my pals at Deutsche Postbank. "It'll never come," my American friends here told me. "That's happened to me many times."

Lucky for me, Colleen refused to give up. Two weeks into September she surprised me and mailed another care package. The day after she did, the original package showed up at her door. It turns out it arrived in Hamburg early and Reg and I had not moved into our new place yet, so it was returned--slowly. As you can see, it's a mess. It looks like, well, it looks like it's been to Germany and back.

Flashback to Brazil

I'm pleased, proud, and very relieved to say I have finally finished my first-ever photo book using some of the many pictures I took while in Brazil in 2009. Check it out if you have an extra five minutes!

http://app.picaboo.com/WebView/Project.aspx?clientID=4aec99615917f69fb5af11dec5b6ed8d&version=48148

And We're Off!

I knew halfway through my Seedlings interview that if I was fortunate enough to land the job I would love it. The founders of the school are two fabulous ladies whole-heartedly dedicated to our cause and the passion and compassion oozes out of them. This being said, I must admit that I accepted the position with some discretion. Not having taught tikes littler than first graders I entered Day 1 cautiously. I never would have thought that at 28 I'd still be approaching the first day of school wondering, "Will anyone like me?"

Two weeks down and it turns out we all like each other a lot. (Big smile.) We spend our mornings working hard to build inventive train tracks, creating inspired art projects, and singing and dancing all over the room. Until now I have not had the opportunity to work with such a small group of little people and working side-by-side with them for hours at a time is too fun to describe.

I'm sure you'll notice I cleaned up a bit before taking these photos.



Yep, that's a real kiddo back there amongst all the fun.



An appropriate tagline may be, "It's Christmas every day at Seedlings!"



Our fifteen cuties come from seven different countries and my co-workers and I come from three different continents. All parents speak English and many of the students do as well. (Many as in not all.) I've had to rely on my classroom Spanish quite a bit and have discovered that I retained some things that I don't remember learning. (Even though this baffles me I don't question it because it's proven to be tremendously helpful.)

As someone passionate (or obsessed, rather) about learning about cultures, I came into this great new place giddy to be surrounded by such an influx of culture variation. I was prepared for culture shock. However, I've learned a lot about this in my short time in Europe. What I now know for sure is that we are all much more the same than we are different, and this applies to children more than anything. Our Canadian students love playing with cars, trucks, and trains as much as our student from Venezuela and our student from Russia loves hearing a story as much as our American, German, and English students. Sharing is hard--and sometimes impossible--for everyone. When they're sad they want a hug and when they're happy they scream at the top of their lungs (but not only when they're happy, of course...)--no matter their native tongue. Many of my former fellow-teachers and I have worked hard to educate our students about cultures other than our own. I believe this is a necessity, but I believe in the importance of highlighting the similarities just as much. It is comforting to have discovered that kids are their funny, enchanting selves no matter where their home is.

Taking the risk to try something totally new paid off. But I really should've known, how could I go wrong with train sets and crayons at my disposal?

                                            

Hamburg Bilder der Woche

Hamburg Pictures of the Week

Another example of the German dog-bot.

It's good to be a dog owner in Germany. Without the need for instruction, your genuius of a dog will wait patiently outside the meat shop while you pick from the endless supply of fragrant fleisch. He won't bark, he won't even drool. He'll just wait for you. Quite frankly, I think it's magic. Good, good boy.

This week at TK Maxx Hamburg.

This is no joke, folks. (Nor is it Halloween.) These striking dirndls (lederhosen for females) covered several walls of our TK Maxx so that eager people could begin their preparation for the 177th Munich Oktoberfest. This year marks the 200th anniversary of the famous 16-day festival that supplies beer, pretzels, pork, spaetzle, and sausage to some six million parched folks annually.

Federweiβer

(Literally: white as a feather) Only available for the first few weeks in September, I became a semi-hoarder of Federweiβer once I discovered its amazingness. This baby wine made from fermented fresh-pressed grape juice is a gem of a find. Due to the carbonic acid which is a byproduct of the fermentation, Federweiβer is as refreshing as homemade lemonade that is made right. According to the wine shop that sells me this fab treat, Federweiβer is a rich source of vits B1 and 2. I thought I tasted them in there...