Ich bin eine Berlinerin

After stumbling through the Hannover train station with five bags, to move five platforms over for my train to Berlin, I sat on the ICE, sweating--because I had just lifted twice my weight onto the train, and because my nerves wouldn't settle. I was two hours away from meeting my new host family. 

Once the train entered the city limits of Berlin, I gathered my bags again, and headed toward the closest exit. I stood between two others waiting to leave the stuffy air of the caravan. They looked fatigued, disinterested; they were probably locals coming back from a business trip or weekend holiday. However, as I laid my eyes on the fresh cityscape, I couldn't feel anything but delight. We rode over the city, peering down at Berliners walking through the park and grabbing coffee; the street art alone was enough to keep me happy. Our view was suddenly blocked as the train eased into the station. The doors opened, and as soon as I looked out upon the platform, I saw two smiling faces next to signs reading "Herzlich Willkommen, Rebekah!" We exchanged huge smiles, and they rushed to help me with my bags before I could even ask. 

My new host parents, Dierk and Sabine, and I took the S-Bahn (Berlin's above-ground subway) home--a fairly short ride considering how large the city is. I gawked at the beautiful buildings, tiny gardens, hip cafés, and unending streets until we reached our station. Even as I exited the train with only two bags, my arm muscles shook, pleading me to drop the bags directly where I stood. The three of us struggled back to the apartment under the weight of the past five months of my life, but when we made it to the front door, I let out a sigh of relief when I saw the elevator inviting me to relax on my way to the fourth floor. If Dierk and Sabine's warmth wasn't enough to make me feel comfortable already, their cozy and quirky home did. They toured me around, chauffeuring me to my room, my bathroom, the living room, the balcony, etc. It was perfect.

Starting school Monday didn't leave much time to explore the city. In fact, my exhaustion and efforts to get settled in, in addition to the rainy weather made it practically impossible. However, meeting neighbors and friends kept me busy enough.

Walking to school on Monday, I was feeling the same sort of uneasiness I did in Lüneburg. Sabine took me to the secretary to figure out which classroom would be right for me. One papers were signed, and Sabine hugged me once more, I was led by a school administrator to my first period at Romain-Rolland Gymnasium. Students were standing outside the locked door, impatiently waiting for their teacher. The woman I had followed got their attention, and I could feel my cheeks turn to tomatoes as twenty pairs of eyes gazed upon me with curiosity. "This is our new American exchange student. She doesn't have a class schedule yet, but one of you needs to take her to art after the third period," she announced. Immediately six, or seven, hands flew into the air as kids bellowed "I have art," and "I can take her!" Already, this was completely unlike the experience I had at my previous school. She told me to take my pick, wished me a good first day, and headed back to her post upstairs. The rest of the day was very similar; kids offered help, asked where I was from, who I would be staying with, and how I liked Germany so far. Nearly three months at Ro-Ro, and I feel almost like a regular student. The school days are still long and draining, but I catch myself following along more easily, and engaging in discussions from time to time.

I have tried to explore the city as much as I can--or as much as my exasperated brain can take. Having my sister, Hannah, visit for two weeks allowed me to wander the obscure streets with a much-appreciated familiarity. Hannah had traveled around Europe for three weeks, and had a two week break before she started her semester in Paris. My generous host parents offered her a place at their home, so we planned to meet at the Berlin central train station when I came back from my CBYX mid-year seminar in Cologne. When I arrived back in Berlin, I was immediately on the lookout for long hair in a fur coat (despite the many German women who sport similar styles). I searched with my host mom at the few places we suggested meeting, and just when I thought we would have to hunt through the entire station, we found her. Sitting outside in the cold, surrounded by suitcases, sat Hannah. I sprinted towards her with my arms open, ready to suffocate her with my embrace. She saw me and began running too, and shortly before we grasped each other, I saw what one rarely sees from Hannah: tears. We clinched each other tightly, and I asked "Why are you crying?" as my vision blurred with water. We separated shortly, and she said "It's been hard saying goodbye to everyone, and I'm just really glad to see you." We hugged once more, and I said "I'm really happy to see you too," as I began to cry. Finally wiping our tears, we headed home together.

Over the course of the two weeks Hannah spent in Berlin, we viewed an exhibit by Mario Testino, tried our very first Berlin currywurst, talked about our travels and adventures, walked together next to the East Side Gallery, went to the Salvador Dali museum, and enjoyed the city with the company of a sister. Of course, our time together ended, and she flew to Paris to begin her studies, but we will reunite soon enough.

Berlin has not yet failed to provide me with overwhelming excitement. Nearly everything in this city is new and wonderful. Mastering the subways, going from neighborhood to neighborhood, exploring the infinite number of cafes and shops, it's strange to think my time here is now limited to two and a half short months.  

A change of p(l)ace

School ended, and Christmas came and went, leaving me only slightly mournful of the holiday I missed with my family. However, like holidays past, I survived, and I am thankful the hardest part of the year is over. I spent my break with friends from school and language camp, trying to make the most of my time off from school. It has been unsurprisingly refreshing to be able to wander unknown territory in Lüneburg and elsewhere. Studying new buildings, finding paths I've never walked before, tasting the best--and most expensive--candies and coffee I've ever had; it's enough to make me grin with contentment even on the gloomiest of days.

Now I'll backtrack a little bit: on the Friday before Christmas break, I received an email from the head honcho at PI (Partnership International), the German partner of CBYX. I finally received information about my new host family! (Not to worry; I have known since August I would be switching host families in January. I was given a semester placement, meaning I have lived with my current host family for five months, but because of other preexisting commitments or circumstances, they can't host me the entire year. Therefore, I must move to another host family. Nothing catastrophic happened, no cat fight, or a dramatic scene packing my bags, I promise.) As I read on, making sure not to neglect a single word, I passed over "Berlin." Surely this was a joke. Or perhaps I had fallen asleep and this was just a dream. I reread the entire email. There, stated in black and white, was my new placement. Berlin. The nation's capital, founding place of döner, famous for the inspiring history and art of the Berlin Wall.

I informed my family, close friends, and a few kids from language camp, and of course, they are all very happy for me. The greatest feedback I have received, however, has been from the Germans themselves. "Berlin is incredible," "Oh wow, that's so cool, Berlin is my favorite German city," and "I'm so jealous, it's amazing," have all followed my attempt to inform others without sounding like I'm bragging. Everyone has told me about their favorite spots to eat, the best museums, the crazy nights at the discos, and I listen, I take mental notes. There's so much history and culture, I'm afraid I won't have time to see it all, even though I will have it at my fingertips. I will see as much as I can, but what I am most looking forward to is finding my own favorite spots in Berlin, and making a place for myself among the art and attractions. I want to befriend the cartoons at the East Side Gallery. I want to share secrets with the Brandenburg Gate. I want to have lunch with the Reichstag. I want to dance with the Berlin Victory Column. I want to call Berlin my home.

Holiday Blues

It's that time. "The most wonderful time of the year" a.k.a. the holiday season is upon us again, and I can't help but feel slightly dismal.

Thanksgiving, my favorite holiday, came and went with mixed feelings. I made a huge mistake by Facetiming my family on Thanksgiving day, because of course, it just made me feel worse. I kept it together as my sister carried the phone over the dessert table with my mom's pecan tarts, and as I said a loving "hello" to all of my siblings for the first time in months, but as soon as I realized I wasn't actually there with them, I couldn't hold in my tears any longer. It was my first Thanksgiving spent away from home. I decided to make my host family a traditional Thanksgiving meal--or as traditional as possible with the ingredients I could find at the grocery store--the Saturday after Thanksgiving day. My host mom, Cathleen, took me to one of the biggest supermarkets in Lüneburg to find everything I needed. As I pulled out my translated shopping list, her eyes grew as she gazed at the extensive menu. "How many things are you making?" she asked. "A whole chicken, green bean casserole, corn, Brussels sprouts, sweet potatoes, salad, mashed potatoes, gravy, cranberry sauce, and pumpkin pie," I replied. She looked at me in disbelief and said "That's a lot." "It's Thanksgiving!" I said with a smile. We filled our cart with nearly everything on my list, and then headed home so I could start preparing dishes for the feast the following day. Saturday afternoon, I began throwing everything together, and seeing my need for help fi we were going to eat at a decent hour, Cathleen stepped into the kitchen to lend a hand. When everything was finally finished, Cathleen, Jule, Emma, me, Sandro (Cathleen's boyfriend), and four friends from school, dug in. Although the chicken wasn't cut by my dad, and the mashed potatoes didn't have the lumps left by my mom, it was still delicious, and everyone else loved it. (The photos below are extremely bad, but they are the only ones I got before all the food was gone.)

As Christmas approaches, I experience more and more German traditions. The Christmas Markets have opened, and they are completely wonderful. Almost every town in Germany has a market during the Christmas season with small booths selling wool socks and sweaters, leather goods, bratwurst, jewelry, and so many other festive goods and treats. One of the most popular refreshments at Christmas Markets is Glühwein, or German mulled wine. It comes alcoholic, or alcohol free, and Germans of all ages can be seen huddled together in the cold with steaming mugs of the spiced goop. My host mom convinced me that I just had to try some, even though I wasn't too sure, so I took my first sip at the Lüneburg Christmas market a couple weeks ago. And...it tastes exactly how you think hot red grape juice with cinnamon and nutmeg would taste. In other words, it's pretty terrible. However, there isn't much that can ruin a Christmas market. The lights, music, vendors, and general happiness of everyone around is absolutely blissful. 

So as I think of what my family and friends will be doing without me this Christmas, or what I will be missing out on, I have to remind myself of all the extraordinary sights of Germany. After all, not everyone can say they spent the biggest holiday in the world, in the country which celebrates it the best. (Pictured below: Hamburg Christmas Market which I visited last weekend)

Herbstferien

I am a week and a half through my two week fall break, and it has given me a lot of time to explore Northern Germany. I visited Hamburg with a few girls from my school, I went to Hannover with my host family to visit relatives, and I just returned from a short trip with a friend I made at language camp visiting Celle and Bremen. These ventures have made me fall deeper into love with this country--the cities and the gorgeous countryside.

On Monday, I arrived in Celle to meet up with Fiona. After a big hug, we walked out of the train station and straight to the closest cafe for some much needed caffeine and pastries. We caught up on host families, school, embarrassing stories, etc. and continued on to the main part of the city. Celle has small German town charm with large attractions, such as the Schloss Celle, a small castle in the middle of town. We took too many photos, walked too paths, and ate too much bread, so we decided to head home to Fiona's host family in Lemwerder around 7:30.

The next day, we awoke to fresh Brötchen and coffee, then prepared ourselves for another day of travel in Bremen. We took a train to Bremen's main station, and shortly after our arrival I decided to stop by the ATM. Much to my surprise, my card wasn't working. I remained as calm as possible while I tried several more times on several other international ATMs. Eventually I found wifi somewhere to check the balance on my account, and was forced to bite my lips to keep from screaming as I saw the balance "$6.20." "Don't freak out," Fiona said. Easier said than done, considering I had zero cash, and I still had to buy a train ticket at the end of the day to get back to Lüneburg. I knew I had gone a little overboard with my spending over break, but I was nearly positive I had left money on my card, but I was determined not to let that ruin my time in Bremen, despite how much it was actually bothering me. Fiona generously offered to pay for my ticket home, allowing me to pay her back at another time.

We began walking to the main part of the city--several of the locals stopped to stare at the fumes omitted from my head. "I'm fine," I said to Fiona on our way, even though I was not really feeling fine. However, once I stepped into the city market my feelings changed. The architecture--the unbelievable grandness of the buildings--was enough to make me forget about my monetary strife. Bremen was exquisite. Just in front of me was the Bremen Roland. To my left was the Bremen Rathaus. On the outskirts of the square was St. Peter's Cathedral (pictures below). How could I be upset when I had these stunning structures before me? Fiona and I strolled around for a while, taking pictures and reading plaques, then decided to stop for a bite to eat (on her tab, of course). Our stomachs were satisfied, and we took off again.

Our next pursuit was inside the cathedral. As soon as I set foot in the majestic church, I was lost for words. I took some pictures for my memory, but the photos couldn't do it justice. After about 15 minutes of being inside, I stopped to sit down in one of the pews to basque in the glorious and ornate details. Just sitting there, I realized how fortunate I was to simply be where I was. I spent the first part of the day upset because I didn't have the money I wanted for this excursion, but I had an epiphany. Who cares? I was in the presence of phenomenal history, and incredible culture. This led me to think of many other complaints differently as well. My feet hurt: I was walking through one of the most beautiful cities I had ever seen. My German still sucks: I spent two days with a great friend who could relate to my frustration with the language, and didn't care because we could finally speak and understand someone perfectly for the first time in two months. I missed my friends and family: they are thrilled I can experience moments like the one I am having now--they are even jealous--and I will be reunited with them in just seven months. And that's when I had an even bigger realization: I only have seven months left in Germany, and I cannot spend those seven months fretting about things that don't matter. I cannot sulk. I cannot pout. I will not take anything for granted. The opportunity in front of me is something some people only dream of, so I do not intend to waste it.

Fiona and I sat in the church together for a little while longer, and after recognizing our fortune, we headed with kind intentions to a bakery for some Brötchen. We walked through the park and back to the train station, stopping on our way to give the bread to a homeless woman sitting on the side of the street. "Möchtest du Brötchen?" I asked her. She looked up at me and smiled delightedly. "Danke schön! Danke schön! Danke!" she replied. As we stepped away she bowed her hooded head, and began to pray. I had never seen anyone so grateful for two 13 cent rolls, and I had never been so happy about spending that 26 cents.

At the train station, Fiona and I said our goodbyes, and separated to find our trains home. I boarded with my ticket which Fiona had purchased for me, a smile from making someone else happier, and a new perspective.

"Yeah English so much wow"

I have been in school for almost six weeks, and as much as I love being spoken to like a small child, it's getting old. Many of my teachers--and even my classmates--often approach me with a soft, slow voice, and a face which reads "Poor thing, you don't understand anything." PSA: I am not four years old. Although I have been trying to speak only German, sometimes I am not even given a chance. I often have to tell my schoolmates "Kein englisch," because even when I ask a question in German, they speak to me in English, or they want to use me as a way to improve their own English. Last week a teacher wanted to speak to me briefly after class, but before I could finish an entire phrase he stopped me and said "Stop. Just speak English." Entschuldigung, but the only way my German will improve is if I can actually practice it.

Despite my difficulties, I spoke with my chemistry teacher one-on-one this afternoon and understood nearly everything she said, while she was speaking at a normal pace. This interaction made me more optimistic about my fluency, after I had been feeling discouraged about my progress the past couple weeks. Many people have told me that my German has improved immensely (but looking back at my first day of school, that isn't saying much). I hope to be mostly fluent by the end of the semester. Keep your fingers crossed, that may be a stretch.

This Friday is the beginning of Herbstferien, or fall holiday, which means two full weeks of no school. Needless to say I am more than ready for those two weeks free of homework, confusion about tasks in class, and our weekly graded mile-run in Sport. That's not a joke, they really do grade us on how fast we run a mile. I can hardly wait to further explore Lüneburg, and take day trips to Hamburg and Berlin. I feel like I have not been taking advantage of the fact that I am living in Europe, and have not been as adventurous as I thought I was going to be when I arrived, but trust me, that will change very soon.

In my free time, I have started running quite a bit. It has led me to hidden parts of Lüneburg I would have never discovered without a refreshing jog. I have stumbled upon a pasture with hay bails and a horse, a trail which runs behind my school, and my favorite place to run: a dead end path, which captures the sunlight perfectly on the Autumn leaves. I can't help but think how spoiled I am by Lüneburg's beautiful trees, cityscape, and sunsets.

The Awkward American Girl

After two full weeks of school, I am exhausted. Constantly translating--or attempting to do so--is grueling for eight hours every day. My teachers have learned to scan over me when they search for a student to call on, because whenever they call my name I can only respond with "Wie bitte?" or "Ich verstehe nicht." Needless to say my German still isn't where it needs to be to keep up with everything happening in class, but it is amazing how much my German has improved over the past two weeks. I have found that each time I have to speak in front of my classmates my palms begin to sweat, and my heart races. This is very odd, because I am never nervous speaking in front of groups in America. I gave a presentation on Kansas, Topeka, and a little information about my family the other day in German class--in German, of course--and afterwards I couldn't even stop my hands from shaking long enough to put on more deodorant (which I desperately needed).

Kids at school have become used to my presence now, and are starting to talk to me about real things, instead of just "Where are you from?" and "Do you understand?"but on occasion, I still walk into the wrong classroom, or pull a door which should be pushed, and they must correct me. I have befriended most of the girls in my class, however, sometimes I follow them so closely, and so often, that I'm worried I may frighten them, or lead them to believe I am stalking them.

My host family is still wonderful. Each day I fall deeper into love with my host mom. Last Sunday she took Jule and me canoeing, then to a small cafe for cappuccinos and fresh pretzels (which were bomb), and later that night she walked through the door with fresh döner for dinner. Yesterday I received something in the mail which turned out to be a ticket for a concert I will be attending with Jule in November, and as soon as she saw what it was she shouted "Oh nein!" I was very confused until she revealed that she had already purchased my ticket, and was going to surprise me with it for my birthday. I could have cried real tears, because I felt so bad, and because I was so touched.

Things are schön here in Lüneburg, and I know with time my German will be just as good.

First Day of School

I woke up this morning at 6:00 AM, got dressed, had breakfast and coffee with Cathleen, Jule, and Emma, brushed my teeth, and headed out the door to Gymnasium Johanneum. Cathleen walked with me, assuring me that everything would be easy because it's the first day on our way. I wasn't nervous until we turned the corner and about a hundred kids were standing outside the school, waiting for the bell. We walked through the crowd and into the building, where we found an even bigger crowd of students catching up after the long summer holiday. Cathleen took me directly to the secretary so I could wait for someone to show me to my classroom. She gave me a big smile and warm hug before leaving me with my teacher. Herr Weigel led me to the room which had several students waiting outside. "Oh God," I thought as we all shuffled in, "this is going to be the longest day of my life."

When class finally began Herr Weigel made everyone find a partner--"Great."--to get to know each other and talk about activities we do in our free time. A girl approached me, seeing that I clearly didn't know anyone, and introduced herself as Lena. As she started to explain what were doing and ask me questions, I realized how little German I actually knew. Everyone was speaking so quickly, it's a wonder to me how they even understood each other. Lena tried to communicate with me as best she could, but nothing was getting through to me, and I could tell she regretted ever agreeing to be my partner. After a few minutes of Lena asking questions in very advanced German, and me gazing back at her blankly, Herr Weigel announced that it was time to go around the room and present what we had learned about our partners. "Oh nein. Nein, nein, nein," I murmured as I stood up with Lena. I went first, giving very little information in very broken German, then Lena. I would have preferred to dig my eyes out of their sockets. The rest of the period was fuzzy, to say the least. When it was over I stood up, ready to head to my next class, when I realized I had no idea where I was going. "Rebekah," I heard from behind me. "Would you like for me to show you around the school?" Dani, a girl who had the same schedule I did offered this very kind gesture--and in English! "Ja! Bitte! Bitte," I replied.

We walked to our next class: French. "I can do this," I thought, "This shouldn't be that hard." (I have taken four years of French.) Class went by much more smoothly than that before it. Next came History, then Politics, both passing with very little understanding of what was actually going on, and then Pause. After Politics I was in such a daze that a 45 minute break was exactly what I needed. I followed Dani around the whole time. She introduced me to new people, showed me around more of the school, and explained more of how German schools works--some in English, some in German. After our break we went straight to English, and as I realized which subject it was I breathed a sigh of relief heard around the world. "My ish," I thought as the teacher spoke in fluent English. Lastly came Physics, which was also a complete blur.

Once school ended I walked home, without even saying goodbye to Dani, eight books in my hands, and realized I hadn't eaten anything all day long. Not one thing. I was ready to pass out as soon as I walked through the door, but I found Cathleen in the kitchen with a hot meal waiting for me.