Kim's Austrian Adventure

Oh hi, blog!

2007-09-18T08:12:00.000-05:00

I've moved to a non-Rotary-related blog. Comment if you would like the link!

-K

When languages collide

2007-04-03T08:37:00.000-05:00

Reading: Peter Altenberg: Vita Ipsa: Kaffeehaus

Listening to: Of Montreal: Hissing Fauna, are You the Destroyer?: Gronlandic Edit

German Word of the Day: Akzent

Translation: accent

Example: Wenigstens rede ich nicht Englisch mit deutschem Akzent./At least I'm not speaking English with a German accent.

I’ve been home two months now, but my default language is still German. I first noticed it when at the Detroit Symphony, where I kept accidentally dropping my program into the lap of the guy next to me and saying, “’schuldige”.

Then I came out of my room one morning last week and greeted my dog in German. He obviously did not care, because “snausage” is the same in both languages. Yesterday evening, when I was running on the elliptical machine, I was highly confused, as I knew I could not possibly be running THAT slowly… wait, it was in miles, not kilometers. (Side note: I was driving to Bowling Green, Ohio for Amy’s recital on Sunday and on the way noticed a sign that said “Toledo: 10 miles, 16 Kilometers”. I mean, wha? Ohio just putting up km signs around Toledo? They are terrible drivers, have annoying football fans, and now they put up km signs in an inconsistent fashion? Do you all see why the people in MI hate the people in OH? /rant.) On the other hand, I felt I was superhuman while working on the weight machines, until I started converting everything to kilograms.

I’ve been reading German books, watching German movies, and speaking German while talking to myself, which makes it all the more hilarious when people catch me. This does something to my brain, convincing me that the people all around me are speaking German. I guess it’s just something I want to hear. On the flight home I tried to absorb every last drop of German, from the flight attendants complaining about annoying, non-German speaking passengers to the pilot’s warnings of turbulence.

There is, however, one area where I simply cannot bring myself to speak German, and that is the use of German words in the English language. Soon after my arrival in Graz, Chrissi asked me if we used German words in English, and I could only come up with a few, like "über" and "Zeitgeist". Throughout the year, I would bark words at her, mid-conversation (with her or anyone else). The words had nothing to do with the topics at hand, but I was so excited that I had thought of another German word that we used! "We" being everyone else except for me, of course. Language snobs (I prefer the term "purist") don't do that sort of thing. Unless we're talking with another person who also speaks the language. Then we like to show off. To each other. Or is this just me and Adrienne?

The words are often pronounced with an American accent that makes my skin crawl. Words like

Achtung
Ausgezeichnet!
Doppelgänger
Dreck
Ersatz
Fahrvergnügen (always pronounced "far-fig-newgen")
Gemütlichkeit (oh, they will never truly understand it unless they have lived in Austria!)
Hausfrau
Hinterland
Kaffeklatsch
Kaputt
Leitmotiv (I actually like this one, especially when it comes to music. Also, it's difficult to mispronounce.)
Mensch
Rucksack
schleppen
Verboten
Wanderlust
Weltanschaung
Weltschmerz
Wunderbar
Wunderkind

Wow, that's a long list. A guy was recommending me wine over the weekend and said that the Spätlese was particularly good. Except he said "spaatleeza". I almost fell over.

Similarly, there is a list of English words used in German that annoy the crap out of me. I'm typically not annoyed with how they are pronounced (I always manage to flip-flop them -- I pronounce them in German when they're supposed to be in English and vice versa), but that everyone is being so LAZY and just using English words instead of German. I understand certain technorati terms like blog, computer, and browser, but these?

Boss (der Chef)
Business (das Geschäft)
Camping (das Zelten)
checken (kapieren - I will admit I like this one)
City (die Innenstadt/das Stadtzentrum)
Consulting (die Beratung)
Cranberries (die Preiselbeere - not exactly, but still)
Homepage (die Startseite)
Image (das Ansehen)
Juice (der Saft - Eva and have I a special hatred of this one)
outen (sich offenbaren)
Queue (die Warteschlange - I'm surprised they even use this English word, as they DO NOT KNOW HOW TO STAND IN LINE!)

I would say one word and they would correct me. I don't mind being corrected -- in fact, I encourage it, because I want to learn from and fix my mistakes. Sometimes I thought that they were saying words in English because they were conversing with me, though -- like I wouldn't understand if they said it in German. Now I know better.

Oh, there is one German word that I use in English all of the time: Schadenfreude. I like this one more because of its definition than the way it rolls off of my tongue.

"Schadenfreude ist die schönste Freude (denn sie kommt von Herzen): "Schadenfreude is the most superb kind of joy (since it comes directly from the heart)."

Don't Turn Around (O-O-Oh)

2007-02-10T04:04:00.000-05:00

Reading: Wolf Haas: Der Knochenmann

Listening to: M. Ward: Four Hours to Washington

German Word of the Day: Fernweh

Translation: dict.leo.org defines it as wanderlust, which is funny -- defining a German word with a German word.

Example: Es kommt mir vor, dass Fernweh und Heimweh jetzt das gleiche sind. (Kommt natürlich darauf an, wo man sich befindet.)/ It seems to me that wanderlust and homesickness are the same thing. (Of course, it depends on where you are.)

A week ago, I was trying to sleep at the Frankfurt airport. Part of me would rather be there than here.

I didn't anticipate coming back to the States being hard; after all, I'd done it before, and back then I had been gone for an entire year. It would be easy peasy: come back, find a job, finish my degrees, move out, etc.

Yeah. This whole "becoming a responsible adult" thing? Sucks. In addition to that, I have to adjust to my Fernweh/Heimweh/whatever you want to call it. I'm still thinking six hours ahead to Austrian time. (This could be why I'm up at 4am.) Yesterday was the first time in a while that I hadn't been to a Rotaract meeting, and I think that was the first concrete realization that I won't be back in Austria for a bit. At 1:30pm I was itching for a Murauer. (Can one have Bierweh?)

How to cope? Currently, reading books by Austrians and listening to Falco. I have exhausted YouTube's collection of Falco videos, which delight me to no end.

Alles klar, Herr Kommissar.

A few questions

2007-02-06T13:18:00.000-05:00

Reading: Wolf Haas: Der Knochenmann

Listening to: Poni Hoax: Budapest

German Word of the Day: neu anpassen

Translation: reassimilate

Example: Es wird immer schwieriger, mich neu anzupassen./It gets harder and harder for me to reassimilate.

While cleaning out my desk, I found a paper from way back in 2002. It's a list of questions that were asked of German exchange students in America, and it makes me cringe.

Can women in Germany pick their own husbands?
Do you guys drink beer for breakfast? (Kim note: if you haven't gone to bed until 7am or woke up after 12pm...ahem)
How can you guys drive in a big city when there isn't a speed limit?
Do you have trees and mountains?
Are there still signs that say "No Jews Allowed"? (Agh. Do we still have signs that say "Whites only"?!)
How do you wash your hair?
Is Hitler still your president?
Do you have any cars other than Volkswagen?
Do you have the color white?
You have your own language? I thought you spoke English with an accent!
Do you ride horses to school?
What do the stars in Germany look like?
How many months do you have in Germany?
Are there problems on the German-Chinese border?
Do you have something like democracy in Germany?
Is Germany a part of Russia?

I would say that none of these questions would be asked about Austria, but that's probably just because most Americans think that Austria is a part of Germany.

Am schönsten ist die Steiermark

2007-02-02T21:16:00.000-05:00

Reading: --

Listening to: --

German Word of the Day: heulen

Translation: to sob

Example: Am Flughafen werde ich bestimmt heulen müssen./ I'll definitely have to sob at the airport.

Here I am, leaving my Alpine locale. Eleven months ago I was retardedly depressed, wanting to get away from here as soon as possible. Now, Eva is on my bed, telling me not to leave, while I stare at my naked walls and realize that is really has been eleven months. Everything looks like it did at the beginning.

Now, I love saying "net" instead of "nicht".

Now, I say "a bissl" instead of "ein bisschen".

It's the little things that do it: friendships, drinks, inside jokes, Uno games, mix CDs, bottles of prosecco, making pancakes together... it doesn't matter what language you do them in: friendship is universal. I'll should stop before this gets too cheesy.

Oh, but I'll continue... I know I was born American, but I feel less and less like one. In the beginning, the girls joked that I was half American and half German. Now, I feel more Austrian than anything else. Maybe half German half Austrian? The question is, where did my American go?

Well, I still jaywalk...

I love the 90s

2007-01-30T19:08:00.000-05:00

Reading: David Sedaris: Me Talk Pretty One Day

Listening to: Arcade Fire: Neon Bible: Intervention

German Word of the Day: weinen

Translation: to cry

Example: Als die Chrissi mit dem weinen angefangen hat, musste ich auch gleich weinen./When Chrissi started crying, I had to too.

Busy packing and pretending that I'm not leaving, but I saw this and woke up my roommates because I was laughing so hard. How does one explain Vanilla Ice and MC Hammer?

(Thanks to http://xkcd.com/)

"Who puts the phrases in these guidebooks anyway?" or, How Kristen and I almost went to Italy.

2007-01-22T14:11:00.000-05:00

Reading: Journal

Listening to: Kim's songs of America: David Bowie: Let's Dance

German Word of the Day: Regen

Translation: Rain

Example: Ich habe Schnee lieber als Regen./I like snow better than rain.

Neuschwanstein

pleasantly

Lucerne

Lugano

Lucerne

I gave up hoping for a good night's sleep after my ticket was checked for the third time. It seemed that, just as I was off to la la land, there would be a knock at the door. Putting on my best smile, I politely asked the passport guy for a stamp. No dice. (It was then that my frustration with Swiss German began.)

Every hour on the hour my eyes opened. The last time I checked the clock on my phone it was 4:30am.

The train stopped moving and I groggily eyed the door, waiting for some other Crazy Swiss to demand my passport or ticket. When no one came, I looked over at Kristen, who asked, "Are we here?"

"No way," I replied. I hadn't heard my alarm go off. A glance out of the right window showed some random sign in Italian. My hand flailed around my bag and, upon locating my phone, I gasped. Six twenty-two am.

seater

Lugano

Before we could drag out our bags, the train started to move. Kristen and I stared wearily at each other.

Ummm

oder

Deutsch

"Oh, you are American? [insert stereotypical Italian hand gestures here] We are from Sicily. You know, mafia? Bang-bang-bang-bang-bang! [Shooting noises, more gestures]"

Milano

makea

Borat

tiredlostamerican

Arrivederci

All of this after two crazy, jet-lagged days in Munich, a lot of non-sleep, and before 7am.

Chiasso

So close.

2006-12-11T05:37:00.000-05:00

Reading: Wladimir Kaminer: Russendisko

Listening to: Yeah Yeah Yeahs: Date with a Night

German Word of the Day: Löschzüge

Translation: Firetrucks

Example: Die Löschzüge sind an uns vorbeigefahren./The firetrucks drove past us.

Around six-thirty Sunday morning, our doorbell rang. Twenty times. I chalked it up to drunken idiots and buried my head under my pillow, trying to go back to sleep. Then, the door opened and shut, which confused me, but not enough to get me out of my cocoon of blankets and warmth.

Then, the fire alarm went off. I heard the collective groan of my roommates and we staggered about, trying to find clothes to wear. I managed to put on everything I had worn the night before and shuffled to the shoe rack, grabbing the first shoes I could find. (They were blue and pink Sauconys. No, they didn’t match, but I don’t really care at 6:30am.) Poor Chrissi ended up in high-heeled boots and her bathrobe. The head of the dorm burst into our room, screaming at us to get going. Then she looked at me and started translating – for some reason, she had forgotten that I SPEAK GERMAN. I reminded her as such and wrapped my scarf around me in a dignified manner, sweeping past her to the stairwell.

Once outside, we speculated as to what had happened. We smelled smoke when up on our fourth floor, but once we were at the ground level we couldn’t smell it anymore. I thought that the party on the terrace the night before had sparked it all, with some reveler forgetting to put out his cigarette completely. None of us had a clue what was going on.

Cue the flashing blue lights of the fire truck. Then, cue the fire truck blowing past our dorm (I thought taxis not finding my dorm was bad enough) and half a mile up the street. In the crisp morning air we could hear the truck in reverse, backing up and finally noticing the group of students freezing in the winter air.

There were a total of three fire trucks, four police cars, and five ambulances, blue lights ablaze. None of us were very concerned, though, as the fireman seemed to be very relaxed, chilling next to their trucks.

Around 7:15 we were allowed back in. When the five of us got back into our apartment, we all started to gag – it was thick with the smell of burned plastic. Turns out one of the drunken revelers from the party the night before had cooked something around three in the morning and forgot to turn off the stove, ruining the backsplash and shorting the electricity. Adding to the stupidity: the boys had taken the battery out of their fire alarm a year ago. If it had been there, they would have noticed the smoke a lot sooner. The door to their apartment is always open, which usually seems stupid, but in this case was a potential lifesaver, as it allowed the smoke to get into the stairwell and trip the alarm.

The cleaning lady is happy because it’s one less stove for her to clean.

Viele Grüsse vom Krampus

2006-12-03T16:56:00.000-05:00

Originally uploaded by Kimmikers.

Reading: Patrick Süskind: Das Parfum

Listening to: Georges Bizet: Carmen: Votre toast, je peux vous le rendre

German Word of the Day: schlagen (past tense geschlagen)

Translation: to hit

Example: Die Krampusse haben mich zwei mal geschlagen!/The Krampusses hit me twice!

Say hello to Krampus. Here's what Wikipedia has to say about him:

"Often the subject of winter poems and tales, the Companions travel with St. Nicholas or his various equivalents (Father Christmas, Santa Claus), carrying with them a rod (sometimes a stick, bundle of switches or a whip, and in modern times often a broom) and a sack. They are sometimes dressed in black rags, bearing a black face and unruly black hair. In many contemporary portrayals the companions look like dark, sinister, or rustic versions of Nicholas himself, with a similar costume but with a darker color scheme.

Some of the companions take on more monstrous forms. Krampus and Klaubauf are variously depicted as horned, shaggy, bestial, or demonic. In many depictions the Krampus looks like popular images of the Devil, complete with red skin, cloven hooves, and short horns.

In some of the Ruprecht traditions the children would be summoned to the door to perform tricks, such as a dance or singing a song to impress upon Santa and Ruprecht that they were indeed good children. Those who performed badly would be beaten soundly by Servant Ruprecht, and those who performed well were given a gift or some treats. Those who performed badly enough or had committed other misdeeds throughout the year were put into Ruprecht's sack and taken away, variously to Ruprecht’s home in the Black Forest, or to be tossed into a river. In other versions the children must be asleep, and would either awake to find their shoes filled with sweets, coal, or in some cases a stick. Over time, other customs developed: parents giving kids who misbehaved a stick instead of treats and saying that it was a warning from Nikolaus that "unless you improve by Christmas day, Nikolaus' black servant Ruprecht will come and beat you with the stick and you won't get any Christmas gifts." Often there would be variations idiosyncratic to individual families.

In parts of Austria, Krampusse, who local tradition says are (typically children of poor families), roamed the streets and sledding hills during the festival. They wore black rags and masks, dragging chains behind them, and occasionally hurling them towards children in their way. These Krampusumzüge (Krampus runs) still exist, although perhaps less violent than in the past.

Today, Schladming, a town in Styria (my state!), over 1200 "Krampus" gather from all over Austria wearing goat-hair costumes and carved masks (which usually cost about $1400), carrying bundles of sticks used as switches, and swinging cowbells to warn of their approach. They are typically young men in their teens and early twenties and are generally intoxicated. They roam the streets of this typically quiet town and hit people with their switches."

I got hit by a switch and screamed both times, freaking out the kids around me. The Krampusse are really nice to the children, shaking their hands and patting them on their heads, but they enjoy taking unsuspecting American exchange students by surprise and whacking them on the arm/butt. I got hit with a switch twice today.

Apparently they only hit the bad ones.

Ouch.

Turkey for me, turkey for you...unless you're a vegetarian

2006-11-25T08:43:00.000-05:00

Reading: Roman Sandgruber: Das 20. Jahrhundert

Listening to: Elysian Fields: Bleed Your Cedar: Star

German Word of the Day: die Lebensmittelvergiftung

Translation: food poisoning

Example: Hoffentlich werde ich die Mädels nicht vergiften./Hopefully I won't poison the girls.

It was 1pm. I took the turkey out of the fridge and promptly freaked out, placing a call to my mother.

"It will be fine, Kim." She hadn't even said hello. Mother's intuition or something.

"But it's so... gross. Like, it's... I have to reach inside, don't I?"

"Yes, but I promise it's not so bad. You can do it, Kim."

"But what if it's not done? Food poisoning, mom!"

She talked me down and I tried to stare down the turkey, but to no avail. Eventually I threw it in the sink and rinsed it for a good fifteen minutes.

Other items on the menu: macaroni and cheese (for the vegetarians), stuffing, mashed potatoes and gravy (Julia tried to talk me out of the potatoes, but Christina, the other American, backed me up. I ask you, can Thanksgiving sans mashed potatoes even exist?), pumpkin roll (which I've been "testing" since it was finished) and Christina's chocolate-pumpkin cake. I keep trying to stress that this is NOTHING compared to the usual fare. We are, however, in Austria, so I suppose I'm luckily I'm even celebrating Thanksgiving at all.

I'm thankful for, among other things, my Gösser Bier. (But I wish I had some Murauer!)

I was so close to buying a dirndl...

2006-11-19T17:21:00.000-05:00

Reading: Bill Bryson: Notes from a Big Country

Listening to: Al Green: Love and Happiness

German Word of the Day: sich wohlfühlen

Translation: to feel good/right

Example: In Salzburg habe ich mich nicht wohlgefühlt./I just didn't feel right in Salzburg.

...and by dirndl I mean a pair of sunglasses that cost more than my monthly rent.

Luckily for me, or rather for my bank account, the shop was closed. But that was Saturday! I'm getting ahead of myself! Let's start at the beginning, shall we?

Friday morning, 5am. My alarm clock rings and I stagger out of bed, haphazardly throwing items into my weekend bad that I had neglected to pack the night before. I had the best intentions, you see, but instead I went to the Rotaract meeting, which in and of itself wasn't bad, but combined with coming home at 12:30 (also not bad) and reading gossip websites (not so good) and talking to Matt (in general not bad, this particular time until 2:30am, which is really bad), I just couldn't find the time. This, along with the facts that

1)I lost my apartment keys

and

2)I broke the 3 key on my laptop and it's really bugging me

still had me in a snit that had only been temporarily relieved by quaint amounts of prosecco.

5:45. The stars are beautiful, but I don't really care. Even in the still of the morning, I half-walk half-run to the tram stop, never sure if that sqeaking is the sound of the tram pulling away. This time it isn't and I arrive at my bus stop all by my lonesome. The bus is quiet as I wonder who created 5am. Honestly. Going to bed at 5am? Sure! (5:30 last Friday, in fact.) Waking up at that time is a hell that I haven't known in a while, what with my serious stance on sleep here.

Why is everyone who gets on the bus yelling GUTEN MORGEN at the bus driver? There's a place for politeness, and it is sometime after 8am. I yearn for my sunglasses so I can flash dirty looks undetected, but alas, I actually woke up before the sun.

Why are all of these people on the bus? I usually get upset with Europeans when I see them out during the day, drinking coffee and taking three hour lunches. Don't you people have jobs?! I mentally shake my fist at their freakish amount of vacation time. Now, however, I find myself cursing the fact that they are on their way to work. If I can't be asleep, at least someone else should be sleeping for me. Kind of like when your Dad tells you to put on a sweater because he's cold.

At the train station I allowed myself a chocolate croissant and a chai, which kept me from committing homicide on the tracks when two girls, clad as if they had come directly from the club to the train station, decided to sit next to me on a bench and discuss the finer points of anorexia while smacking their gum/breakfast.

Ahhh, finally, the train. The ride to Salzburg is about four hours. I eagerly asked my roommates if I would be seeing any big mountains on my way west and my question was met with hand waves. "Meh, little mountians. Hills, really."

Seriously. I do not want to see what the Austrians deem mountains.

The views from the train were awe-inspiring, but even moreso was the fog. Hills alive? Yes, alive with fog. There were 20 minute sections of time that passed without me being able to see out my window, then suddenly we would burst out of the clouds, high above a landscape dotted with cows and houses, some lawns bright green, some covered with patches of snow.

I arrived in Salzburg and already found myself somewhat...dissapointed. The train station left much to be desired. Now, you may say that most train stations leave much to be desired, but I disagree. Prague's train station is quite charming (albeit incredibly creepy at night), and Hamburg's train station makes me feel like I'm back in the 1930s, but Salzburg's train station was... tiny. I suppose I built Salzburg up more than it should have been; after all, it's smaller than Graz. I grew annoyed with the ticket machines that weren't working and proceeded to drink an espresso and hold myself back from taking out my frustrations on the nearest pigeons.

From there it was off to my little b&b, and... you know, I'll spare you the boring details. I found Salzburg incredibly lame, and for some reason I feel really guilty about that. Part of me wishes I had gone the extra two hours and wandered around Munich. Was it because I travelled by myself? Perhaps, but I've always loved travelling by myself because it means I don't have to talk to people if I don't want. I can walk as fast/slow as I want, I can dive through boxes and boxes of postcards, I can stop for coffee three times in two hours, and no one can stop me. I wander aimlessly, headphones in my ears, music on shuffle, and find out how the music fits the city. Unfortunately I didn't have any Mozart with me.

The thing that disturbed me the most was how many tourists there are. It is the middle of November and the amount of people was astounding. I shudder to think of what it must be like in the summer.

Even the Getreidegasse, where I saw my oh-so-coveted sunglasses, wasn't that much fun. One can only drool at the Louis Vuitton window for so long before the people inside the shop begin to notice/call the police.

I keep telling myself that I don't necessarily have to like every city I go to, but it doesn't keep me from feeling slightly sad...

Sweet, sweet revenge

2006-11-07T15:16:00.000-05:00

Reading: Salzburg info (might be going there next weekend)

Listening to: Tom Jones: Detroit City

German Word of the Day: die Rache

Translation: revenge

Example: Ich habe meine Rache befriedigt./I've satisfied my desire for revenge

Nothing big to report. I avoided the trip to Munich last weekend and helped our new American around instead, which was fun and didn't cost as much. I think I'm heading to Salzburg next weekend. We'll see...

In other news, Daria, the roommate next to me, is particularly fond of blasting Kelly Clarkson. I've found my perfect revenge by turning Tom Jones all the way up to 11.

What's new Pussycat?

Confusing the Austrians, part 8 billion

2006-10-30T17:07:00.000-05:00

Reading: Roman Sandgruber: Das 20.Jahrhundert - Geschichte Österreichs (History of Austria in the 20th century)

Listening to: Of Montreal: She's a Rejector

German Word of the Day: Tixo

Translation: Tape (Austrian German)

Example: Reichst Du mir bitte das Tixo?/Please pass me the tape. (Only in Austria.)

I generally try to avoid my American tendencies while over here, but my love for Halloween shines through. Chrissi and I carved our pumpkins yesterday and it took no less than three hours. I think they look fantastic. T minus 21 hours and counting until the Austrians learn how to celebrate properly. Chrissi is so excited that you would think it's Christmas.

Why, Bob? Why?

2006-10-26T13:38:00.000-05:00

Reading: Schedule

Listening to: My screams of "NOO!" echo through my apartment

German Word of the Day: We already had one. See, this is the benefit of posting twice in one day. Convienently, it also had something to do with screaming.

Translation: -

Example: -

I'm all for humane treatment. I am, you see, an Ambassadorial Scholar. Diplomatic. I see both sides of the story. However, this... this is too much for words. The creator should be brought before a tribunal, tried and voted off, or get his license revoked, or however they do it on Broadway.

Click here to see an extremely disturbing (yet safe for work) sight. Scarier than anything on Halloween.

Why is he singing and dancing like Elvis? Did he confuse the two? Why is his guitar (which is only a prop) so hideous? Why is he barefoot? Why is he wearing suspenders? Why are those people bouncing on balls? Do they think this is a workout video? Who's playing the harmonica I hear? Why why why?

What terrifies me the most is that Dylan gave this the green light. But then again, I suppose lurking in the background of Victoria's Secret commericals is a slippery slope....

If the dough doesn't behave, just yell at it

2006-10-26T07:46:00.000-05:00

Reading: Postcard list

Listening to: The Blow: Parentheses

German Word of the Day: anbrüllen

Translation: yell at

Example: Wenn es mit dem Teig nicht klappt muss man ihn einfach anbrüllen./If the dough isn't working you just have to yell at it.

Chrissi and I have been cooking together once a week for while. She's from the Austrian state of Carinthia (Kärnten), which is kind of like Texas or Bavaria, where, when you hear someone is from there, you nod your head knowingly and everything about their behavior (ten gallon hats/liking Bayern-München/voting for the FPÖ) seems to make sense. I find the differences between the states in a country the size of Maine fascinating, so I asked Chrissi what we could cook that is typically Carinthian. Her answer was

Kärntner Kasnudeln

250 g flour
1 dash of salt
1 egg
125 ml milk
500 g boiled potatoes
500 g curd cheese (Quark)

1 teaspoon salt
50 g butter
1 onion, finely chopped
1 dash of mint
1 dash of chervil
1 dash of parsley
1 dash of marjoram

Mix together the flour, salt, milk and egg to a not so firm dough.

Prepare the filling: peel the potatoes and smash them with a fork. Saute the onion in butter. Let it cool and mix in the curd cheese, salt and spices, then form 16 balls with the filling.

Roll out the dough and cut 16 equal pieces. Lay the balls in the middle of the dough and wrap them, leaving an edge of about a finger's width. Make sure the edges are pushed together well.

Boil water, put the noodles (I keep calling them Pierogies) in and cook for about ten minutes. Serve with melted butter.

Sure, it sounds easy. Much like when we tried to make veggie patties, our first results were terrifying. The filling was fine, but the dough was just not working. Our small kitchen left much to be desired. Searching for a place to roll the dough, we decided to put down some baking paper and...well... we ended up with a mess. Scraping half-liquid dough off of paper isn't on my list of fun things. Chrissi and I took turns soiling our clothes/faces/hair. I continued making the filling until she said, "You try! This is annoying the crap out of me!" (In German, of course.) I begged, pleaded and finally started yelling at the dough. I, being the Grammar...well, I don't want to say Grammar Nazi, you know, so we'll just say the Grammar Stickler that I am, had to ask Chrissi if the article for dough -Teig- was der, die or das. After that it was on, and I released my rage with the aid of a rolling pin (das Nudelholz).

Among other things yelled at: wasps who mistakenly buzzed in and met their doom aka my dishtowel and the flour, which disappeared entirely too quickly.

Still, they were delicious. I suggest you try them. If anything, the yelling is fun.

New meaning to "Up in Smoke"

2006-10-17T15:16:00.000-05:00

Reading: Travel plans

Listening to: FM 4 (Beck is artist of the week!)

German Word of the Day: einleuchten

Translation: to make sense

Example: Es leuchtet mir ein, dass so einen Vorschlag von einem Deutscher kam./It makes sense to me that such a suggestion came from a German.

Forget the smoking section. Try the smoking airline!

It makes complete sense to me that a German would suggest a smoking-only airline. I was just thinking about it today while walking around -- I went into a combination cafe/store and was amazed at all of the people smoking while eating. Be overweight? Nooooo. Smoke a pack a day? Well, of course!* The number of people who smoked just to keep their weight down while I was at the Gymnasium was around 80%. I think I was one of maybe 5 (from our class of 40) who didn't smoke.

The smoking itself doesn't bother me that much. In fact, it feels strange in America when I'm at a cafe and people aren't smoking. I still remember how astonished I was the first time I landed at the Frankfurt airport and people were walking around, cigarettes in hand. A breath of not-so-fresh air for my naive American self. Now I snicker at them at the airport, as there are (technically) smoking sections. Snicker, that is until I stop paying attention and wander into the smoking section where they huddle, post-transatlantic flight, enjoying their nicotine fixes and eyeing me like the outsider that I am.

Luckily, smoking is one of the European habits I haven't picked up.

*I know that not every German feels this way, but the number of those who do still astonishes me.

Evil squirrels

2006-10-15T10:37:00.000-05:00

Reading: Neon, October edition

Listening to: C+C Music Factory: Gonna Make you Sweat (being played by the people up on the roof. Hey, at least they're moving on to the early 90s instead of playing 80s David Hasselhof. Or worse, current David Hasselhof.)

German Word of the Day: das Eichhörnchen

Translation: squirrel

Example: Es hat Monate gedauert, bis ich "Eichhörnchen" aussprechen konnte./It took months until I could correctly pronounce the German word for squirrel.

Today I went for a hike, astounded at the fact that it was mid-October and I could hike in capris and a t-shirt without dying of frostbite. I'm so glad I'm here instead of in MI. The squirrels here must feel bad for you Michiganders, though, because as I was marveling at my fortune, an acorn conked me on the head.

I still love fall, though. It's my favorite season, mostly because of Halloween. The Girls are excited because we're having a party. Halloween really isn't celebrated here, but, much like everything else American, it has infested various corners of the globe. Chrissi and I are going as vampires. I just bought vampire teeth and I have the wardrobe (anything black) in spades; the only problem is my garlic consumption. I'll have to abstain the week prior to really get into character.

We're going to be celebrating Thanksgiving. Yay for celebrating, boo because I'll be doing most of the cooking. This is where I get off my high "I'm not here to meet Americans" horse, though, because we're getting an American roommate as of 1. Nov.! Yay! At least she can help with the cooking. So far on my list I've got turkey (have to find a non-turkey option, as Eva doesn't dig on meat), green bean casserole, stuffing, mashed potatoes and gravy, and pumpkin pie. Am I missing anything?

We don't have access to any football that day, which makes me sad. I never thought I'd say that. I'm sure there will be soccer on somewhere in the world.

Boo-dapest and Prague

2006-10-08T16:36:00.000-05:00

Reading: Flickr tags

Listening to: PJ Harvey: Down by the Water

German Word of the Day: "Ins Bett gehen"

Translation: to go to bed

Example: Ich gehe letztendlich ins Bett!/I'm finally going to bed.

I'm back after lots of sightseeing and not nearly enough sleep. Uni starts tomorrow. Yay.

I've just started organizing my pics on flickr, and I would like to share with you one of the reasons it is fun to travel where you don't know the language: you can't read the advertisements! Now, some of them you can understand from the context, but this? Do they not like Dachshunds?

And this? Is it Freddie Mercury? Is it Jesus? I suppose I could translate the signs, but it's so much more fun to make up your own meanings...

Here are some more pictures. More details tomorrow.

No, I'm not staying at any hostels...

2006-09-29T11:11:00.000-05:00

Reading: Travel Itinerary

Listening to: Cansei De Ser Sexy: Off the Hook

German Word of the Day: die Pensionistin

Translation: female retirees

Example: Heute haben drei Pensionistin mich freiwillig angesprochen./Today three retirees randomly talked to me.

Apparently it's "Retirees talk to Kim" Friday, because while waiting for the bus/tram three seperate times, random Pensionistin talked to me. I had a conversation with the one I understood (even within the states of Austria, the accents can greatly vary). She was wearing the most awesome purple sunglasses, sassy shoes, and lipstick, and she thought I was Scandinavian. This confused me, as I am not tall, thin or blonde. Usually people assume I'm Dutch or Belgian (Belgian? Honestly?). It may sound bad, but as long as they don't assume I'm American, I'm happy.

In other news, I am heading to Vienna/Prague/Budapest with Powen, a friend of mine from my first exchange year, on Sunday. It's been a while since I've been in a country where I don't speak the language. Should be interesting. Also, I hear Budapest has some fantastic shopping opportunities...

Fantastic photos to follow. Luckily, Powen is just as camera-happy as I am.

Prague

Budapest

Cows and Paris Hilton. Full circle.

2006-09-26T16:29:00.000-05:00

Reading: Wladimer Kaminer Russendisko Info

Listening to: Lily Allen: Alright Still: Friday Nigth

German Word of the Day: die Intressengruppe

Translation: lobby

Example: Wegen der Intressegruppe heisst es Soja-Drink, nicht Soja-Milch./Because of the lobby, it's called "Soy Drink", not "Soy Milk."

When living in Austria, I don't really drink much milk, except in my tea, and I'm partial to soy milk, vanilla in particular. I had a tough time finding it the first few weeks I was here, and Ada explained to me that it's called Soy Drink instead of Soy Milk because the farmer lobby doesn't want anything taking away from their milk sales.

Can't you just picture a bunch of farmers with their cows on the steps of parliament?

In other news, I've been asked why I'm not at Oktoberfest. I have one answer:

She has besmirched the dirndl. I am upset.

Heimkehr

2006-09-21T13:52:00.000-05:00

Reading: To Do List

Listening to: Of Montreal: I was never young

German Word of the Day: Heimkehr

Translation: homecoming

Example: Meine Heimkehr war eigentlich sehr angehehm./My homecoming was actually very enjoyable.

After some tears while hugging my mom and Matt, I headed to the checkpoint, secretly hoping to go through the air-blowing machine. Alas, it was not meant to be. I still got to take off my Birkenstocks and walk barefoot across the airport, though, so that’s cool.

Yes, that’s right – I was not dressed up in my usual Business Casual/Woman of the World attire. My heels, along my most of my (very cute!) flats were in my (very cute!) houndstooth bag. I was clad in black yoga pants, a black cardigan (the other five packed in my luggage. I have a serious problem.) and a gray tank top. No skirt!

While trying to get through the checkpoint, I was stopped and my bag was searched. As per usual, it contained no less than four types of lip-gloss. (You know those new rules about carry-on stuff – no liquids, gels, etc.) Luckily, the attendant only found the one gloss in my makeup bag, because if you thought terrorists were mean, you haven’t seen anything until you’ve seen me deprived of my Burt’s Bees.

I sat at my gate to fly back to Jersey. [Oh. Jersey. (I can tell I’m going to be abusing parentheses in this entry.)] An hour before takeoff, I tried to take Dramamine. Due to the aforementioned rules, my ever-present water bottle was absent. I tried to use spit.

Don’t do that.

I almost got it down, but it got stuck, turned to half-mush, and made me feel like I had licked deodorant.

I don’t drink much soda, preferring espresso or sugar free Redbull, but unfortunately neither of those was on tap. My favorite soda is Dr. Pepper.

Nope. Out.

Lemonade?

Nope. Out.

Fruit punch?

Nope. Out.

Biting my tongue, preventing me from lurching the counter and demanding to know why they were advertising all of the drinks if they were all out, I asked for a mix of diet and regular Coke. (Regrettably, Coke Blak *drool* isn’t on tap either.)

The deodorant pain removed from my mouth, I discarded my over-priced, under-consumed soda and boarded the smallest plane I’ve ever been on. They call it “Express Jet”; I call it “Aluminum Tube of Death”. It’s a matter of semantics. Three seats across, 60 people tops. There are smaller, but I have yet to, and hopefully will never have to, fly them.

I sit down and start reading Flare (cool Canadian mag), watching everyone board the plane. An… interesting guy sits behind me – he looked kind of lawyer/hippie/Buddhist, if that makes sense. He decided to keep his phone on while we were taxiing down the runway, but he turned it off right before we took off. He must have sensed my desire to punch him in the face.

After what happened next, I wanted him to get back on his phone.

He chanted. Loudly. Now, I’m all for religious choice. Rock on, do what you want, but DON’T ANNOY ME WITH IT, especially when I’m trying my best to convince the plane not to crash. He chanted during the takeoff and the landing, which felt like forever. I do have to thank him, though, because he annoyed me so much that I forgot how terrified I am of flying. Before we were supposed to turn on our phones, he was on his, playing Mr. “Look-At-Me-I-Am-So-Important-I-Have-A-Cell-Phone”. Look, guy, we’ve all had phones for about five years. Give it a rest.

We landed in Jersey, I had my ceremonial Last Starbucks, and then I sat and stared out the window at the turnpike while listening to Lily Allen on repeat. Before I knew it, we were boarding a (considerably larger) plane and we were off. I had an empty seat next to me, which allowed me to doze for about two hours between watching three episodes of House and three of CSI: Miami. It seems that there’s always an empty seat next to me, be it on a plane, at a restaurant, or at the opera, so I’ve come to call it the Matt Seat, because it’s where my boyfriend would be if he were here.

Ok, I’m done being sappy. Stop rolling your eyes in disgust.

When I landed in Frankfurt, I turned on my phone, which the wonderful Cingular associate had assured me would work in Europe. Wrong. So I went to a phone, called the usual suspects, helped random Americans who couldn’t figure out how to buy train tickets, and was off to the train, where I spent another 10 hours trying to get to Graz. My train to Selzthal, which has nothing going for it except for the fact that practically every train in Austria goes through it, was delayed for 20 minutes. As soon as we stopped, four Austrian men stuck their heads out of their respective windows, simultaneously offering advice and chatting on their cell phones. Not wanting to look suspicious for not telling anyone what to do, I stuck my head out of my window and stared at the cows in the pasture. When one burped at me, I decided to sit back down. Luckily, the train from Selzthal to Graz was 30 minutes late, so all of us got back on time.

I finally got here around 10:30 last night and was up until 2am. I didn’t spend of that time putting things away as much as chatting with Matt and Eva and drinking way too much tea.

It doesn’t feel strange to be back. I think it’s going on my list of “Homes.”

Take me out to the ballgame

2006-09-04T21:09:00.000-05:00

Reading: Blogger info

Listening to: Arrested Development season 3

German Word of the Day: die Überraschung

Translation: surprise

Example: Mein Freund hat mich mit Detroit Tigers Baseball Karten Überrascht./ My boyfriend surprised me with tickets to the Tigers game.

I still exist and I'm still at home. For proof, check the flickr page, including subpar pics from today's ballgame.

Where, oh where has my work ethic gone?

2006-08-08T14:15:00.000-05:00

Reading: To Do List

Listening to: Kids who should be outside playing. (I'm in the library.)

German Word of the Day: faul

Translation: lazy

Example: Ich bin neulich sehr faul geworden./Recently I've become really lazy.

My big plans for being home (in Michigan) were as follows:

1) Read my lit-class books
2) Work (trips to Berlin/London/Vienna don’t pay for themselves)
3) Work out (trips to entirely too many restaurants more than pay for themselves—at the till known as my hips)

Actual activities of the last three and a half weeks:

1) Try to locate the remote (constantly)
2) Eat massive amounts of the chocolate about which I complain
3) Try to get up before 11am

It’s been a luxurious few weeks, but I’m starting to feel guilty about sleeping well after poor Matt has been at work. I usually wake up after four accusatory text messages, stumble out to make lunch*, brew and drink entirely too much espresso**, and watch informative programming on TV***.

* it’s obviously too late for breakfast
**when it’s not Starbucks, it’s Redbull
***America’s Next Top Model marathon. What?! I flip to CNN and MSNBC during commercials!

Reasons why I hate New Jersey (besides Bon Jovi)

2006-07-26T10:03:00.000-05:00

Reading: Schedule for the next three weeks

Listening to: Kids who should be quiet (I'm in the library)

German Word of the Day: dösen

Translation: snooze

Example: Heute habe ich dösen zehn mal gedruckt./I hit the snooze button ten times today.

(Originally written 12. July. 2006)

When surprising one’s parents, it is best if one books a flight directly to one’s town. Otherwise, one could possibly end up in Jersey, change gates five times, have one flight cancelled, watch another flight time of 5:55 pm move to 10:20, 7:35, 8:00, 8:30, 8:40, and 9:40, be seen and completely ignored by a counter worker, and almost have a breakdown when, while eating salt and vinegar chips and accidentally rubbing one’s eye, Celine Dion comes on the radio. The combination is entirely too horrible for words.

Yes, I’m currently in Newark Int’l. My plane left Frankfurt at 11:20am (GMT +1) and we got here around 3pm (GMT –5) after being in a holding pattern for 45 minutes. I trudged through customs, where I was accosted by someone official-looking, who asked me, “Miss! What’s that?” in reference to my luggage. My LUGGAGE. This is an AIRPORT. It is a SUITCASE. Maybe he was new.

After practically no sleep – it’s up to 22 hours awake now – it is not very fun to have to sit at the window and pretend that I”ll be getting on one of the planes that are docking. Originally I was to straight to Detroit from here, but I’ve been rerouted to Detroit via Cleveland. All I wanted to do was fall into the arms of my boyfriend and surprise my mom at work. Well, mom is on vacation and Matt is driving the three hours to
Cleveland to pick me up. If I ever get there, that is.

Yes, kids, if you didn't know it, you know now: I'm back in Michigan. Only for a few more weeks, though, then it's back to Graz to continue with the German-speaking.

I did a lot of traveling (Berlin, London, Hamburg -- check out Flickr for proof) before I left, and it made me realize that I don't have one "home" -- I have a hell of a lot. Well, four, to be exact. I was concerned that my reverse culture shock would hit me again, but it hasn't come to me at all. Sure, the bread sucks and I feel odd/lazy when I don't seperate my garbage to recycle, but other than that? It just feels like one of my many homes. This could be because I was only in Austria for 4.5 months instead of a year, but I like to think it's because I'm finally getting used to living all over the world.

I like it.

Wir koennen nicht nach Hause gehn -- wir SIND zu Hause!

2006-07-04T16:46:00.000-05:00

Reading: Flight plan

Listening to: Fireworks being shot off by mangy Italians who don't understand my anger and apparently wish to be harmed.

German Word of the Day: verlieren (past tense verloren)

Translation: to lose

Example: Wir haben das Spiel verloren./ We lost the game.

Alright then, no Italian food for a while. I actually hope that Italy wins now, though, because

1)They played a fantastic game.
2) I don't like France (sorry Gentry!) or Portugal.
3) Seeing a little more of their melodramatic dives might actually make me laugh, as opposed to making me scream like it did during this match.

You Americans probably have no idea what I'm talking about.

Go Italy. *sob*

You know you're in Europe when...

2006-06-29T12:15:00.000-05:00

Reading: Travel itinerary

Listening to: Liz Phair: Flower

German Word of the Day: fahren

Translation: to drive

Example: Morgen fahre ich nach London./Tomorrow I'm going to London.

Today I bought 70% chocolate. Dark. Lindt. I took a bite of it on the bus and almost cried. Absolute heaven for less than two euro.

That is how you know you're in Europe.

I don't need football -- I need sleep

2006-06-24T12:07:00.000-05:00

Reading: The Devil Wears Prada (meh)

Listening to: The honking of horns, post 2-0 Germany victory.

German Word of the Day: das Abenteuer

Translation: adventure

Example: DAS war aber ein Abenteuer!/Now THAT was an adventure!

It is a miracle that I am

1) sane

2) awake

3) alive

Gabe and I headed to the Switzerland vs. South Korea match in Hanover around 6pm. Autobahn + Mini Cooper = two hours fifteen minute drive time. I have to commend the engineers who made the grips on the door extra comfy -- they complimented my white knuckles (the sort of thing that happens when one is driving 220 kmh/136mph) quite nicely. The red of the bugs splattered on the windshield also complimented the American flag on top of the car.

We made it to the stadium just in time for kickoff and took our seats next to two Swiss twin brothers in full team regalia. Gabe asked me what the Swiss were chanting and it took me a while to figure it out. At first I thought they were saying "Auf, schieß!" This would make sense, as it means "Come on, shoot!" After listening a little more closely and observing the clothing, I realized they were saying "Hopp Schwiiz!" They weren't drunk, they were Swiss, making me all the more thankful I selected Austria instead of Switzerland for my exchange year. Trying to understand Schweizerdeutsch is hard enough, let alone trying to live my life there with the Crazy Swiss.

Aftwer Switzerland won 2-0, Gabe and I headed home. It was more of the 220kmh business, involving a few races with SUVs. We suddenly slowed down a bit and Gabe said "Uh-oh."

"What?"

"Um, I think I'm out of gas."

"Out of...what? How? Huh?" My sleepless day was about to get a lot longer.

The Mini, though outfitted with fantasticly comfortable handles, is lacking in a "Hey you, you're running out of gas" warning. We pulled over to the side and tried to figure out what to do, finally deciding that we would walk the 5km to the next gas station.

5km. In the dark. In flip-flops. Along the autobahn with people driving as fast as we were. Luckily we arrived at an SOS box after about a kilometer. The irony is that I noticed one on the way to Hanover and wondered "Who needs one of these when everyone has cell phones?" Oh thank you, thank you, SOS box. I shouted into the speaker above the din of the cars, stating that we needed gas.

To our surprise, a tow truck showed up. When I asked about the gas, I received a lecture on not filling up the tank (as expected) and then was told "We're not a gas delivery service. I'll tow you to the next station." Gabe and I could do nothing but laugh at our situation. I had been up for 23 hours and counting, and we still weren't home.

We got back to the flat around quarter to five and I fell into bed without putting on the sheets. By some miracle I am now awake and chipper. It could be because Germany is winning 2-0...

I don't need sleep -- I need football

2006-06-24T05:31:00.000-05:00

Reading: Weallspeakfootball.com

Listening to: French announcer in an X-box football game

German Word of the Day: umbuchen

Translation: to change a reservation

Example: Ich habe meine Karte nach Graz auf morgen umgebucht./I changed my ticket to Graz; now I'm leaving tomorrow.

I boarded a bus in Vienna at 20:30 last night. After a bumpy ride through the Czech Republic, where some of my fellow travelers, who were on their way to the Tunisia v. Ukraine match today, got kicked off for not having the proper visas, we headed down the bumpy roads toward Germany…bumpy roads which kept me awake until about 3:30 when we were making our way in to Dresden. By then it was pre-dawn and I had managed to sleep for about an hour. My sunglasses were no match for the sun, so I dragged a brush through my hair and tried to contain my Berlin-related excitement. When I arrived at the apartment I rang the bell on and off for 20 minutes until someone straggled to the door. Poor Peter, who went to bed around the time when the sun was rising, was gracious enough to let me in and show me around. My brötchen saved me from certain death.

You see, Berlin in my favorite city in the world. It was the first place where I actually tried to speak German and people somewhat understood me, and the place where I first understood the insanity that is football in Europe…well, in the world, really. Some team (I think Ukraine) qualified for something way back then in 2000 and the streets were clogged with cars for what seemed like miles. People were hanging out of cars, waving flags, and getting out of their cars and high-fiving the people stuck in traffic behind them. My American friends and I were highly confused – all that for a simple qualification?

Fast forward to 2002. I was living in Hamburg. The World Cup was taking place in Japan and the Germans were amazed that they had made it out of the preliminaries. Second place in the World Cup translated to madness: songs celebrating Rudi Völler (the coach) on TV, mass celebration in Frankfurt when the team flew home, German flags everywhere. Football took the place of hockey as my favorite sport. There was no gratuitous violence, but I could yell at the TV even more, and that with a delicious German brew in my hand.

When we arrived on the outskirts of Berlin I could already feel the football fever: every other car had a German flag waving out of the window. A tingle ran up my spine as I spied footballs on the windows of the subway and on every other available space.

I am running on one hour of sleep, caffeine and adrenaline. I don’t need sleep – I need football.

B.O. terror alert

2006-06-19T12:12:00.000-05:00

Reading: Democracy in Britain

Listening to: Boy George: Do you really want to hurt me?

German Word of the Day: das Deo

Translation: deodorant

Example: Morgen kaufe ich das ganze Land Deo!/Tomorrow I'm buying the entire country some deodorant!

I was going to go into great detail about the disgusting things I smelled today when the weather made it to almost 90 degrees fahrenheit and I was stuck on public transportation, but rather than make you sick, I constructed an alert system.

A few of my favorite things...Come on! You have to allow me at least ONE "Sound of Music" reference! It's a miracle I haven't been to Salzburg yet.

2006-06-16T14:57:00.000-05:00

Reading: Florian Illies: Generation Golf Zwei

Listening to: Beck: Odelay: Sissyneck

German Word of the Day: WM WG (pronounced vay-em vay-gay)

Translation: World Cup Apartment

Example: Nächstes Wochenende fahre ich nach Berlin, um an der WM WG teilzunehmen./Next weekend I'm going to Berlin to take part in the World Cup Apartment

World Cup apartment, you say? Yes indeed. Check it out.

My friend Katahrina is there all month and invited me to come up and stay for a few days. And hello -- it's Berlin. Do we all remember my obsession with Berlin? I don't think I ever let anyone forget it.

Another obsession? Music. Last weekend I had the opportunity to see possibly my favorite musical piece of all time, Carmina Burana, at the Stefaniesaal in Graz.

By some miracle, after thinking we were late for the tram and running in 3.5" heels, Chrissi and I managed to arrive fifteen minutes early. A family friend of hers, Otto, was with us. We walked up the stairs and asked an usher where our seats were, and he pointed us around the corner. Upon arrival, we noticed the seats
1)Costed way more than we had paid
and
2)were occupied.

Wrong seats. Thanks, usher.

Five minutes until showtime. We head out of the nearest exit and end up locked out of the hall in a stairwell. Back to the beginning. As we arrived at the doors, we could hear music and were immediately yelled at (in a whisper) by two busybody ushers. "Why are you late? This is highly impolite. What are we supposed to do with you? You will interrupt the orchestra. We really can't believe you're so late." I tried to interrupt and suggest that they let us in during the applause. Chrissi and Otto tried to explain that it was the usher who pointed to us in the wrong direction. Neither of the ushers listened to us; they instead chose to complain to each other about us. They unlocked (yes, they LOCK the doors to the hall during the performance.) the doors and wordlessly pointed to the fold-down seats on the wall. We went in.

The first four pieces of music were from various films, so we took the opportunity after the second piece to sprint across the hall to our seats. Upon arrival, it was deja vu: our seats were taken. Chrissi leaned back to whisper that they were taken and three people decided to loudly "PSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHH!" us, which was louder than Chrissi and completely unnecessary, as people were still clapping and the music hadn't started yet. Then, some incredibly mature Austrian (I mean this literally, as Chrissi and I were the youngest there by at least 30 years) sarcastically whispered "Too late!"

I mean, honestly. It's not like we looked like teenagers. We were both dressed well and weren't running around screaming. Also, this is Graz. I got dirty looks at the Vienna opera house, but no one yelled at me. I think these people were taking themselves a little too seriously.

The performance was, for the most part, good. One problem with listening to a recording of a piece over and over is that hearing another orchestra/director play it comes as a shock to your ears. Chrissi isn't a musician and she even noticed some mistakes. Oh well. I got to hear a choir and full orchestra perform my favorite piece ever. Sweet.

Limited Edition Toiletpaper

2006-06-03T05:22:00.000-05:00

Reading: Frommer's Austria

Listening to: Goldfrapp: Black Cherry: Crystalline Green

German Word of the Day: das Klopapier

Translation: toiletpaper

Example: WM Klopapier? Wahnsinn!/ World Cup toilet paper? Insanity!

Yesterday I met the new U.S. Ambassador to Austria, Susan McCaw, but the Austrian secret service boys, earpieces and all, were on top of things and hustled her out before I could get a picture. Hence, I came home and took a more interesting picture. Behold.

This, friends, is World Cup 2006 Trivia toilet paper. In our apartment. I never knew that France had only won the World Cup once or that the World Cup Mascot's name is Goleo VI. I am no longer ignorant.

After some searching around, I found an example of something that would never be seen in America:

Toilet paper with the German flag on it. Can you imagine the uproar it would cause if the image of the American flag was on the little squares? Riots in the streets, boycotting of stores...

I'll bet you can buy it in Iraq.

No kangaroos in Austria

2006-06-01T15:48:00.000-05:00

Reading: Exam schedule

Listening to: David Byrne: Girls on My Mind

German Word of the Day: die Post

Translation: mail

Example: Die Post bringt allen was./The post office brings everyone something. (Apparently they don't consider the time frame on this.)

I've been here in Graz for 13 weeks now. Matt started putting together a care package for me (Girl Scout cookies! Yay!) the day after I left, and sent it maybe two weeks into my stay. I eagerly checked my mailbox daily, growing more and more disappointed with its emptiness. After two weeks I really thought I would find a note asking me to come into the office and pick up my package. No dice. Ok, Austria doesn't do mail on Saturdays. So it's a little slower. Austria is further east than Germany. It's going to take a little longer... I grew more and more anxious every day and took out my frustrations on my poor little mailbox, slamming it shut when the note wasn't there.

After about five weeks, Matt began to worry. When he finally figured out the problem, I'm surprised he didn't go to the post office and punch someone. You see, I live in Austria. The package, however, was headed to a land of kangaroos and shrimp on the barbie. Yes, the package was sent to Australia. AUSTRALIA. Matt had corrected the idiot...Err, woman at the post office twice, but it still got sent to Australia. ETA? Hopefully before I finished my exchange year, if I was lucky. The USPS was no help, snapping that they would call if they heard anything and simultaneously slamming down the phone.

Yesterday I had an 8 a.m. date with the washing machine. The snooze button won and I didn't fall out of bed until 8:25, losing the opportunity to do a load of laundry. I grabbed my basket and stomped down the stairs, my eyes barely open. When I got to the office to buy coins for the washing machine, I related my frustration to the secretary. She sympathized and promised forego the note in the mailbox (she's probably sick of me slamming it shut) and call me as soon as she received any packages for me.

She gave me a sideways glance, taking in my messy hair and sleep-like state and promised to call after 10 a.m.. I grumbled something resembling a "Danke" and headed back upstairs to catch 25 minutes of sleep before I needed to do my next load.

As soon as I got under the covers, the land line in the apartment rang. I'm the only one who receives calls on it, so I ran out, stubbing my toe in the process, and picked it up.

"Kim, is that you? Your package is here!"

She didn't even finish her sentence and I was already out of the door, tearing down the stairs in my PJs and Birkenstocks at breakneck speed. It was my package! MY PACKAGE! On the outside Matt had taped an A4-size sheet of paper with my address in bold. "Austria" was also on the customs form, but someone had taken the care to draw big, black lines through both of these and write AUSTRALIA on the box. Thanks USPS.

I'm still waiting on a package from my mom that was sent almost twelve weeks ago. Hope it gets here before Christmas -- she accidentally sent my library books in it.

German Literature 1945 - Present, Live Every Tuesday!

2006-05-30T17:04:00.000-05:00

(Original date 23.März.2006)

Reading: Vienna travel guide

Listening to: Jens Lenkman: You are the Light

German Word of the Day: andrängen

Translation: to crowd

Example: Vor dem Deutschkurs drängen die Studenten immer an./The students always crowd before the German class.

The live music scene here leaving much to be desired (until this summer, at least), I’ve had to search for other ways to re-create one of my favorite things to do: see live music.

There is no better place to do this than in the hallway before my German Literature class. Last week twenty of us couldn’t even fit in the lecture hall, so we missed class. There were people everywhere: at tables, on the floor, behind the professor, on the windowsill… Insanity.

The insanity begins about twenty-five minutes before the lecture starts. Students jockey for position in front of the double door entrance to the “lecture hall.” (“” Because it’s basically a glorified classroom.) I usually end up behind the door by about five feet, and those five feet fill quickly. Yesterday there was a girl behind me, screaming at her friend.

“LILLY!”

No answer. Going to her friend makes too much sense, of course, so the girl screams louder.

“LILLY!”

Still no answer. I restrained myself from turning around and saying, “Maybe she doesn’t want to talk to you.” The screaming continued and I began to form an image of this girl in my head. She probably had her hair pulled back into a harsh ponytail, she was wearing too much eyeliner for 11:30am…

As I turned around my ideas were confirmed, along with another I had not even considered: she was wearing an orange velour track suit. I pray for our future.

Guys behind me speculate on their chances of getting up to the door. I turn around and give them my best “not on your life” glare, and their mutterings cease.

The door opens. Yes, door. Singular. Mind you, this is a set of double doors, but the last class begins to exit and the crowd surges forward. Two opposing lanes of traffic in one door. The professor pushes his way through the door and some people try to follow him to the front like he’s a security guard. He is eventually swept into the room.

Instead of filing to the back, which would make the most sense, everyone tries to sit as close to the professor as possible. Stragglers usually end up leaving instead of climbing over hoards of people. It's like a general admission all-ages free for all.

Ride the Wave

2006-05-30T17:01:00.000-05:00

(Original date 14.März.2006)

Reading: Texts on immigration policy

Listening to: Mitch Hedberg: Mitch All Together: Arrows

German Word of the Day: der Zufall

Translation: coincidence

Example: Reiner Zufall, dass ich den Autor gestern kennengelernt habe./Total coincidence that I met the author yesterday.

Yesterday I was wandering around a bookstore, pricing books for my literature course [13 books including "Die Blechtrommel" (The Tin Drum), the 700 page monster from Guenter Grass] when I heard someone reading downstairs. Upon closer inspection I realized that a man was reading in English and it was being translated into German. I hung around for a while because it was a pretty interesting story --"Boot Camp"-- and went up afterward to introduce myself and ask him how he liked Europe.

Kim: [...] So, how long have your books been translated into German?

Author: Well, ever since I wrote "The Wave" about twenty years ago...

Kim: You wrote "The Wave"?!? OH MY GOD! I loved that book! And the movie!

[Kim proceedes to buy "The Wave" to have Morton Rhue, aka Todd Strasser, sign it.]

So that's my exciting story for the day.

Some things change, some things stay the same

2006-05-25T10:28:00.000-05:00

(Actual date 05.März.06)

Reading: Marian Keyes: The Other Side of the Story

Listening to: Margaret Cho: Notorious C.H.O.: Big Gulp

German Word of the Day: der Schnee

Translation: Snow

Example: Heute hat es heftig geschneit./It snowed a lot today.

The Austrians keep insisting that it normally doesn’t snow this much here, even through 65% of their country is covered by the Alps. I try to explain to them that I don’t care, as

1) I don’t have to drive in it and
2) They use pebbles instead of salt to melt it, meaning no salt rings on my pants.

There are a myriad of things I could be doing, including figuring out my budget (so much better than what it was at home!), finally finishing the Germany survey issue of The Economist, looking up Uni things online, writing in my journal, napping…In fact, napping has become my forte, seeing as how I don’t have to work this year. Since when have I been able to nap without feeling guilty?

Things I like about Austria include
-Recycling! Separated recycling! People yell at you on the street if you do it wrong, and it’s great!
-Public transport literally at my doorstep…well, 100m away from my doorstep.
-The great girls in my apartment, who are hilarious and help me with everything. They thought I was German! Yay! Apparently they weren’t listening clearly, but I’ll take it where I can get it.
-Cheap, fresh veggies and fruit at the daily farmer’s market.
-No TV in my room or in the living room.
-Proximity to Italy and the rest of Europe

Things I don’t like about being abroad in general
-Being in the south. The people are nice, but somehow I miss the rich, snobby north with the fantastic accent and three hour train ride to Berlin.
-The bureaucracy of everything.
-University administration only being open until 12pm.
-Lack of proximity to Matt.

When abroad one doesn’t only think in another language. I have to think in metric, six hours ahead, and in Euro too.

What a lovely day to have a slice of humble pie

2006-05-25T10:21:00.000-05:00

(Actual date 02.März.06)

Reading: Uwe Timm: Heißer Sommer (Hot Summer)

Listening to: Dane Cook: Retaliation: At the Wall

German Word of the Day: sich verlaufen

Translation: to get lost

Example: Ich habe mich verlaufen./I got lost.

Just when I thought it was safe to go outside, I tried to go to the Meldeamt. Ha. I should have known how today would end up, because I fell on the way there. I wasn’t even wearing heels! Luckily there weren’t too many people around. A nice old man came over to help me up and ask me if I was ok, to which I answered yes, only my ego was bruised. When I got home I realized that my knee and palms were skinned and my ankle was swollen, but at least my pants were still ok.

I went to the Ämtergebaeude, where every possible Amt – except, of course, for the Meldeamt – is located. After working up the nerve to ask a stranger where it was located, I consulted my map and was off. And by off I mean I had no idea where I was. Eventually I found my way to Jakominiplatz, which is the main transportation point in the city. I asked again and found the building, went in and took (hideous) Passfotos, then turned in the form. I have to pick it up tomorrow. I still had time to make it to the Uni…but I couldn’t find it. Added to the fact that the office is only open from 9am-12pm means that I didn’t get to register today, even though I emailed the office and told them I would be there. Hence, I feel like a moron. I thought I would be able to get everything done and was disappointed when everything didn’t go according to plan. This means wake up time is 7:30 tomorrow, which should be enjoyable as I’m jet lagged and have been up until at least 2am for the past two nights.

I keep trying to remind myself that it’s only my second day in this country and that one is allowed to make mistakes, especially as an exchange student. However, there is the desire to prove my ability and do everything right, which includes being places when I say I’ll be there.

There’s always tomorrow. Hopefully I’ll be able to find the university...

Do you mean my 'e' or your 'e'?

2006-05-14T05:15:00.000-05:00

(Actual date 01.März.06)

Reading: Graz map (der Stadtplan)

Listening to: Beck: Guerolito: Clap Hands

German Word of the Day: Bürokratie

Translation: Bureaucracy

Example: Die Österreicher sind für ihre Bürokratie sehr bekannt./The Austrians are well known for their bureaucracy.

So, I’ve survived the first day. It began with a visit to the nice ladies in the office of my dorm, where I experienced the greatness that is Austrian Bureaucracy. Here’s how it goes: first I go to the registration office (das Meldeamt), where I inform the Austrians that I am indeed here. From there I take my proof that I’ve visited the Meldeamt (das Meldezettel) to the university (die Uni), where I register for classes. Then I need to open a bank account (das Konto), and in order to do that I have to have my Meldezettel and my Uni registration (die Inskriptionsbestägigung). Only after all of this can I apply for my visa (die Aufenthaltserlaubnis/das Visum). Theoretically this wouldn’t be bad, but I need my visa in order to get my hard(ly) earned cash. In order to get the visa I have to have my passport (der Pass), Meldezettel, Inskriptionsbestaetigung, insurance (die Krankenversicherung), passport-sized picture (das Passfoto) and birth certificate (die Geburtsurkunde), which is silly, since I needed that in order to get my Pass. Hence, I need one thing after the other, and naturally my birth certificate is still at home in some fire-proof box. FedEx is going to learn to love me this year.

As I was downstairs learning the Bureaucracy, I had to write down many a street and address. When writing I realized that I’m not yet thinking auf Deutsch because I kept getting the letters wrong. Here is how the German alphabet sounds:

A = aah
B = bay
C = say
D = day
E = aay
F = ef
G = gay
H = ha
I = ee
J = jut
K = kah
L = el
M = m
N = n
O = oh
P = pay
Q = koo
R = er
S = es
T = tay
U = oooh
V = fau
W = vay
X = ecks
Y = ypsilon
Z = zed

(This doesn’t mean that Kimberly sounds Kah-ee-m-bee-ay-er-el-ypsilon; just that it would be described like that if someone asked how it was spelled.)

Many a letter can be confused, especially E and I. Didn’t know you were getting free German lessons, did you?

I’m staying in a quasi-Wohngemeinschaft – WG for short (Wohn = to live, Gemeinschaft = community) that has four floors with various suites. There are six of us [Chrissi, Katarina, Eva, Daria and Wang (Chung? No, I didn’t ask, though I would like to tonight.)] and we each have our own room, sharing the kitchen, one bathroom, and two showers.

Here’s the view from my room…

…and the view in my room. They must have known I liked pink. Note how organized everything is, and remember I’ve only been here 24 hours. I have plenty of time to mess it up.

Here’s the living room (das Wohnzimmer).

The kitchen (die Kueche).

And, of course, the bathroom (das Klo).

More later, after the continued Bureaucracy.