Fever

I have to say it- I'm enjoying the soccer. I went overseas to try to escape the sport-mad, ignore everything else vibe that we've got going and I end up screaming and pumping my fist in the air when Australia comes back from the dead with three goals in the last eight minutes. Call it the German disease, call it homesickness, I can't resist. It's just too damn exciting.

The game yesterday was just fantastic- I'd just met up with Paul and Alex and was pretty wound-up about seeing them and then the game looked like it was going to be all over for Australia. Actually, up until then I hadn't really cared much either way, and was sure the Aussies were going to lose, but then my students made a few smart remarks about losers and for some reason I got a little defensive... I didn't say anything of course but I have to admit that when Australia won a little voice in my head said: hah!

We were sitting in a tent in a big park in Hamburg with about eight die-hard German men sitting behind us, who were thrilled whenever anything was happening, and who I think were more annoyed with us than anything else when we spent most of the game chatting. Martin, my cousin, was biting his knuckles in frustration (in a show of family loyalty he was supporting Australia) and when the first goal got through he was devestated. It all looked pretty bleak.

But then, just as the coverage was starting to show footage of the Australian crowd looking utterly unimpressed, it all began to happen, and I found myself swept up in this incredible rush of joy and, weirdly enough, pride. Now I understand why people watch sport, it really is a substitute for an emotional life. When the siren went we were all overcome. It was beautiful.

Then the Czech Republic beat the US and my perfect soccer day with my brother was complete.

Piccies for Mum

A recent weekend to Berlin, a visit to the new Jewish Memorial, me drinking a Berliner Weisser and a cool building Matt liked enough to photograph.






And me steering a sailing ship of a colleague from the technical school. I was so seasick afterwards.

A spring wedding

Torshy, 27, witness.

The glamorous couple

My lovely cousin once removed, Tomas, father of the groom.

In the rain, unfortunately, but that wasn't going to stop me getting excited about being a witness and putting up my hair. We got on the train at eight in the morning and caught the train back at ten thirty at night- I had forgotten how weddings are so exhausting- and spent most of the day ducking between shelter and the rain, the parents of the couple met for the first time and the registery office was strangely formal and preoccupied with paper but despite all that the couple themselves spent the day beaming, entertaining their guests with incredible graciousness and generally making us all reach for the bucket.

One odd thing for me was that there were no speeches or anything about the people themselves and the parents weren't very involved, but since I'm not intending to get married at all I have to say they were more involved than mine ever will be. At least they got a wedding out of it all. Also the vibe was a bit stiff, I introduced myself to Friederike's brother and he looked at me like I was mad. Nice kids though.

There were kids everywhere (Simon was disappointed that they were quite well-behaved and not wiling to play with him and destroy the house) and not much drunkenness to be seen. Understandable from Friederike's point of view since she's up the duff, but on the whole kind of odd. Not sure if it was the sobriety or the well-behaved children which freaked me out- could there be some kind of link there?

Family family. What an odd thing it all is. My hair looked nice though, which is something.

It's a mad world

Random crazy new life moment- doing ski gymnastics at the Uni yesterday to the I-want-to-kill-myself track, It's a mad world, from the film Donnie Darko. Me and fifty Germans rotating our pelvises to lines like "The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had".

On the weekend we had our sharehouse party and it was surprisingly fun. I managed to stay up all night which was good, given that we had two DJs pumping incredibly loud music from two rooms away and sleep was pretty much out of the question. The whole flat filled up by about half-past twelve- they like to do things later here- and Andy was trying to kick out the last guests at six in the morning, when the police arrived. Apparently they were quite pleasant and offered to help. The girls from my old flat came and it was lovely to see them and feel like I had friends. Matt's flatmate Judith also came, who is lovely too, so all in all we weren't the sad flatmates without guests we thought we'd be. Some of Simon's new workmates came too, one of whom was hilariously uptight. She told me, while her German boyfriend was sitting next to her, that the continental Europeans simply couldn't be sensitive and were starting, slowly, to learn how to respect other cultures. Uh huh.

Yesterday I met our new English colleague for the first time- totally intense guy with a life drama situtation to rival the best of them. While chugging as much wine into himself as he could, he told me all about his awful marriage break up and his various successes and failures- including an MBA at a prestigious university and being bankrupt. He's only here for his son, which is sad and also kind of beautiful. Talking to him was so intense I almost had to go and have a cry afterwards, it was all so ghastly. Can't wait for September, when I get to manage him.

This Friday is Martin's wedding and the weaher is looking a bit dubious- grey and kind of wet. Hopefully some miracle will occur and the sun will burst out and bless the day. Now I kind of wish I had an alternative cold weather outfit, damn it.

Life is like, sooo hard.

Being a teacher is fun

A lovely morning class at the technical school- although I haven't left yet so there's still a good chance I'll be verbally sexually harrassed on the way out. Actually that's only hapened once but given that it's spring, ninety percent of the students here are males between the ages of sixteen and thirty and I'm now wearing short sleeves, the staring and not so whispered comments have started to become a pretty frequent occurance. And also the whole building smells like BO.

I really like teaching the students here sometimes- it's fantastic to work with young people who think everything you tell them is cool and interesting, even if it's just 'in Australia it's really hot in December' and they just soak up the language in a way adults just can't, really. Also they've got that young persons's enthusiasm for activites, which is to say that sometimes they look at you like you're the most boring thing they're even seen and sometimes they have so much fun they forget they're learning at all.

Today I had the brainwave to mix up the groups so they were not sitting with their usual friends and asked them to tell the group how to do something, even something simple. Just the right thing to say to a German... I also told them that anyone speaking German in the ten minutes would have to buy me an ice-cream- in Spring they become the national currency- and amazingly, it worked. Even those who are reluctant to speak spoke, and some who are slow speakers but enthusiastic had the chance to speak with no-one interrupting them.

One group were laughing so hard, presumably at one member's attempts to get around my 'keep it above the belt rule'- totally ineffective I might add- that I almost didn't recognise them from the surly students I had last week. Another student called me Miss T*rsh, at which I told him off, and then he asked me heaps of questions, calling me Hanna. I think it's just so exotic to them to be able to call teachers by their first name- crazy kids.

One of my pre-reading activites was to write down four words connected with a country. Two samples of words for America:

Area 51, white house, war, Bush

highways, big country, Statue of Liberty, freedom

I have proof

A lovely weekend talking to people at home and lying in the sun on our roof. I even have photos to prove that it was sunny.

Simon and I went to the market and Saturday and spent a small fortune on fresh fruit and vegetables that were actually tasty as opposed to the even more overpriced crap you get in the supermarkets here. We made asparagus with butter, roasted beetroot salad and pan-friend mushroom in bear-garlic- very popular here. Washed down with a lot of white wine. It was fantastic.

Budapest, Prague and Dresden pics

So glad to be on holiday- our first evening in Budapest.




The gorgeous old Synagogue in Pest.




Inside the Synagogue.




The flooding Danube.




In Prague with my lovely Czech student from Sydney who took us out for a night on the town.




Matt after eating a pig's knee in Prague.




Drinking the world's best beer in Prague.




Exhausted but cool in Dresden.

Sunny days

Yesterday I was invited to a colleague's house from the technical college in Gaarden (not a misspelling) and I was so knackered from the weekend I almost didn't go. But since it's almost a criminal offence to waste a long weekend I decided to drag myself off the bed and trek out to a village an hour away from Kiel.

The day started off like a typical Sydney day- at least as far as I can remember- sunny, a light wind and about twenty degrees. It was so lovely to sit on the train with the shafts of sunlight across my face, watching the green fields rolling off into the distance and the cows grazing. I don't think I've ever noticed that there were any cows up here.

Anyway then I got onto a bus which meandered its way through Neumünster and off to the little village where Monica lives. It had bus stop names like 'church' and 'school', as well as rolling past a traditional Mayday beer and sausage gathering (we call that a barbeque right?) sponsored by the CDU- the Christian Democrats in the town square.

When I got to their cosy house, a two storey semi-detached with a garden and a big living area, a nice change from pokey little apartments, I was immediately presented with a glass of champagne and given the tour. It has been so long since I've been in a house filled with books and art that it was like returning home. I was given a wonderful lunch, plied with wine and told all about the wildlife around here, which apparently includes wild boars and deer, both of which are on the increase. It was a whole other Germany and I really liked it. Especially the intelligent conversation with two very clever and interested people- such a relief not to have to be cool.

I arived home very chilled, quite drunk and in a great mood to face the week, which has so far been great, accompanied by sun sun sun and my new clothes which always cheers me up. Although some shoes for the wedding would be great...

There are swans in the lake in the centre of the city, called the Little Kiel, and dafodills on every street corner. People are wearing t-shirts and looking relaxed, there are cherry trees in blossom and I can't quite believe it is the same town.

Weekend in Hamburg

The sun is shining, we just got back from a weekend in Hamburg hanging out with my lovely cousins in their glamorous apartments and I am exhausted- too much fun and travelling in a group always makes me exhausted. As usual, being in Hamburg makes me question why I'm in Kiel- and why I've now agreed to stay another year or so.

Hamburg is so chic- I might as well be in Sydney really- and Kiel really is a small town with all that goes with it. I guess that's someting I find kind of interesting, how different it is from my previous experience. Although if I were living in a bigger city maybe people who come to Europe might visit me...

It's overwhelming today- the choices that life offer- and I wonder if I will spend every weekend of my life feeling like this. A little lost, a little aimless and disoriented. It's the Sunday blues every time- that feeling of stretched out tension that goes with work and life. I don't like it much but I seem to constantly put myself in a position where I feel it. Perhaps because the positive side is that feeling of satisfaction that comes with work, of being spent and tired but knowing that you did your best, you put your all into something.

Weekend self-help. That should be a new section in the bookshops.

Brief moments of joy

Well it happened- the sun came out in Kiel. Right now, of course, it is raining but yesterday it was almost twenty degrees. And I´m ashamed to say I was really too hot. It was lovely, the whole city came alive, cafes sprouted up from places I'd never noticed before and people were drinking beer outside, rowing on the fjord, jogging, fishing, you name it.

On the bus today a German lady tapped me politely on the shoulder and said something to me I couldn't hear because my headphones were on. I said "Sorry?" "Is that your scarf?" she said, using the polite form of you. I looked down and there was my Italian nonna umbrella I bought at the Vatican with its lovely blueflowers on a pink background sitting beneath my foot. I was so amazed at the act of courtesy I just said "That is my umbrella. Thank you." I guess I should have expected my umbrella to be too out there for Kiel.

I went for a jog on the weekend (lasted about ten horrible minutes) and had a lovely moment when I ran past a very fat grey goose waddling past me. There is something I have never experienced before. Every day here I see a new kind of bird, hopefully minus bird flu.

Whinge

This is why I really hate being here sometimes:

I have had to pay, to date, including keys for Simon, over one hundred dollars for keys to houses which I am only living in temporarily. Not only did I have to pay, but I had to wait two weeks to pick one of them up and get a special permission slip from the housemaster (!) for the other one.

To renew my library membership I need to show my passport plus proof of address. To renew it.

I can´t make small talk in German, I just can´t. And that is because they don´t make it up here, in the north. I am so sick of going into shops and saying something like, nice weather we´re having and getting stared at like I´m a freak.

I forget, pretty much every single bloody time, to weigh my fruit and vegtables before I take them to the counter. Which means I can´t buy them without lining up all over again. Yesterday I went to the shops specifically to buy an apple, lined up for twenty minutes then realised I had forgotten to weigh it.

I can never remember the names for my bike parts, so every time I go into a bike shop I just have to point.

Everything is closed on Sunday, and most shops close at midday on Saturday. Nothing is open past eight o´clock ever. I am in the sticks, I know, but this is a town of two hundred and fifty thousand people!

No-one ever smiles at you in the street. Except for babies, who haven´t learnt not to yet. And the occasional dog.

Decisions decisions

It´s just not my forte, making decisions. I have been umming and ahhing for almost two months about whether or not to use my ticket to go home. I´ve finally decided (almost... no I really have... but I can take it back!) not to take it and to stay in Europe for the summer. Not only is it a terrible thing to waste the untransferable, unextendable ticket but I was really, really looking forward to seeing everyone. But it doesn´t make sense, I can travel then and I´ve got an assurance out of my bossess that it´ll be possible to take three weeks off in December to come home. So I think I´ll do that instead and enjoy it even more. Argh.

Being in Kiel is just the same, kind of stifling and boring but also good if I´m in the right zone to deal with it all. My flatmates just had a house meeting about various issues, including a house party and the argument arose about whether or not a drum and base DJ was necessary to create the right party atmosphere on the dance floor. Dance floor. I felt like I was observing an alien mating ritual on the planet Zargon. Then it was suggested that we should buy about ten to twenty cases of beer, and put all the furniture upstairs in another apartment. It boggles the mind.

But just proving that all student cultures are the same, there was the inevitable argument about whether or not to have an invitation. Some things never change.

Holyday over

It´s Easter Sunday and we´re recovering from a hangover, as is traditional on the last day of a holiday. Last night Simon turned into Mr Party, as he is sometimes wont to do, and charmed a group of Germans from Erfurt who are down here enjoying the Dresden vibe. We drank some absinthe together and went to a happening Dresden club called Flower Power. It was really interesting talking to some of the group, they seem very aware of the "wall in the head" phenomenon- they brought up the topic of the differences between West and East Germany as though the wall were still there. And I have to say, given one evening with a bunch of "Ossis" all my prejudices about Germans seem to be based on the North-west of the country. These people were open, friendly, almost naively so. Actually they reminded me a bit of Australians, except obviously they know where Poland is. It was quite amazing, and made me think I should spend some time in other parts of Germany so I don´t have a completely skewed and bitter outlook. As I am beginning to have.

Crossing the border

I´m ba- ack. In Germany. It feels weird to be back, my tongue isn´t quite making it round the words and people don´t smile at me any more (except for the Aussie and Amis- I can pick ém cause they look slighty baffled that no-one smiles back) but it´s very cool to finally be in Dresden, even if it´s only for two nights. The German here is slightly softer and less abrupt, we´re on the other end of the Elbe from Hamburg and it kind of feels like another country, even though we´re less far away than Sydney from Brisbane. We´re staying in a very cool youth hostel with a groovy bar, surrounded by even groovier bars and designer clothes shops... very dangerous. It kind of reminds me of Melbourne which I was foolish enough to voice and got ridiculed for by Matt and Simon. I then said that the part by the river reminded me of Brisbane... Maybe I´m more homesick than I thought?

It was great being in Prague this time, after I got over feeling stressed out. I got to see places I´ve never seen before thanks ot being there with Matt, who studied there for a couple of months. It made me want to go back which is nice because the last few times it´s been deep winter and I haven´t done anything except sleep and eat.

Only one more sleep and it´s back to work... but somehow it seems more managable now.

Prague blues

So I'm in Prague and it's RAINING. Damn it all. You'd think that bad weather for six months would toughen you up but in my case it's just increased my weather sensitivity to the point where it makes up fifty percent of my conversation and I don't decide what I'm going to do until I look out the window first thing in the morning.

The plus side is that yesterday was lovely and for the first time I sat in the old town square and drank overpriced beer and listened to a bunch of Scottish blokes talk about their wild night at the table next to me. I finally got to see this city in all its spring glory, and understood the appeal. Today, however, and probably for the rest of the week, I will just get flashbacks to all the other time I've been here and holed myself up in the flat because it was too cold or miserable to go outside. It's really no wonder I still don`t really know the city at all.

What's also kind of ruining my holiday is the big decisions I have to make at the moment- whether to sign a contract at work until June 2007 (can I do another winter in Kiel? Will I go on a killing spree?) and whether or not to fork out the money to come home for a month in July, and possiblity miss the only month of summer in a year and a half. I hate making decisions, and I especialy hate making them when I'm on holiday. My mushy, overslept brain just shouldn't be called on to do anything more taxing than decide what to have for breakfast.

Moan moan. Life is just so hard when you're a modern jet-setter.

City of spasz

Budapest. The Danube is flooding, which was a surprise, although it made more sense than "maybe they just don't want any customers on the boat restaraunts and that's why all the walkways are under water" theory which we flaoted for a few hours on our first night. This is a great city, I feel really comfortable here, although that could be due to the ever-lovely Hungarians who work for the walking tours, pub crawls and our great hostel. Tonight we were too knackered to do anything, so we watched Ocean's Eleven on DVD and were given popcorn... so nice. Almost uncomfortable-making nice actually, given how poor this country is compared to it's rich neighbours like Germany.

We went to the very luxurious city spas today, which, when the tour guide asked us to guess what the building was I guessed a palace, look not unlike a Hapsburg royal residence. They had baths ranging from thirty-eight to twenty degrees, in various sizes, some outside and some inside, most from thermal springs. All of Budapest was there, fat old ladies and men, young wolf-whistling Italians and many, many school groups of various European nationalities. It was absolute decadence, and made our swimming pools look kind of lame.

Today I also met my grandmother's second cousin which was nice and awkward and also a bit sad. Not because of her, she was full of life even thought she is pushing eighty five, and she was correcting my German, but because of the wars that marred her life and killed all the people close to her. And everyone else too. On the tour we went on yesterday we had a fabulous feisty young Hungarian woman who said "I love my country but it's a shit country". Apparently next week there are elections, and she and the pub crawl guide were wearing orange to support the democratic party and oust the "corrupt arselicking ex-Soveit party members". They have only had a democracy for under twenty years and even that has been in name only. Agnes, the pub tour guide, was smiling alot with her mouth but not with her eyes as she told us how only those who had never experienced freedom knew its value. As I meet more and more young Aussies and Americans I begin to believe it.

On the tour last night there were four young American girls- one of whom was a Valley girl "I just can't deal with backpacking- I mean, sharing with other people, ew."- and three young Australian guys, one of whom told me he was going to Turkey and when I asked why he looked at me and said in serious tones, "for Anzac Day". Oh right, yeah. I thought he was going to ask me if I really was Aussie when I then asked when exactly that was. Needless to say the two groups weren't going to result in any romances. And does this mark the second time that I was scared- really scared- to discuss Anzac Day with a young Australian bloke? I have the feeling this is a trend likely to continue. Neither group really seemed to understand freedom, unless it was the freedom to be a fucking moron.

The idiot from Australia

Getting from Hamburg to Budapest should have been easy- it's a two hour flight and we were travelling with Air Berlin who are not so budget they have their terminal in a little village somewhere like Ryan Air or German Wings. It should have been pain free. But it wasn't, mainly because I left my passport in my check in luggage and only realised half an hour before take off.

My excuse isn't so great either- I left my swiss army knife in my toiletries bag, which I then decided at the last minute to put in my backpack, which meant I had to re-check it in, which meant I had to take my valuables out and I forgot to take out my passport.

So then it got exciting. While I sweated like a drug smuggler the Air Berlin check in guy called eight different numbers while an increasingly annoyed queue of travellers waited behind me. Then I sprinted down to the arrivals and waited and waited for my bag to appear. No-one down there had any idea what I was talking about and I was beginning to think I would be trapped in Kiel and never see the sun again when my bag arrived. I pretty much threw the knife at the guards and sprinted to the departure gate- thank god Hamburg airport is so small. We made the plane with about four minutes to spare. As we touched down it was an incredible twenty degrees and it all seemed worth it, although I do kind of feel like if I ever see another check-in counter it will be too soon.

Spring sprung

It´s true- there really are seasons in Europe. One day I´m walking around in a thick winter jacket with four layers of clothing underneath it, keeping my head down to avoid the snow which constantly falls and riding home in the dark at four pm and literally the next day the sun is shining, the birds are chasing each other around the park for lascivious reasons and it´s almost ten degrees. Boiling. The sun has been waking me up in the morning and it´s a wonderful thing.

Soccer soccer soccer

It´s begun. I´m sitting in my room listening to my flatmate and his friends shouting at the TV screen while Germany plays the US. The World Cup is sooo not going to
be fun. Can´t wait for that one.

Today the weather was amazing- I was riding back from work when it began to snow- but the sun was still out so the snowflakes were spinning in shafts of sunlight. It was incredible. It´s moments like that which keep me here- the feeling of experiencing a whole new world of fundamentals- weather, language, diet, body language. Like being a child again but with the benefits of a full-grown body and brain.

I just hope Germany loses so I´ll be able to get some sleep...

Sun worship

Last weekend it was actually sunny and we have proof. Every parent in Kiel was sledding with their children- it was so cute to see these rosy cheeked things wrapped up in layers of clothing being dragged up hills by ever patient parents.