Christmas in Vienna

Although this is not the first Christmas I've ever spent away from my family proper, it is the most different Christmas I've ever experienced. This year the big gift was the trip and that meant going all the way to Austria to discover new experiences and tastes. Number one on the list was the mulled wine, a fine concoction of heated red wine and various spices including cinnamon. Num num!

Within the included album you'll find a great number of buildings which are unnamed. To us, that's fine. We don't know what they're call or for. They are primarily included to give you a sense of the beauty and history we walked amongst, and to fill you with a deep jealousy that hopefully counters the expense of the cost. If it incites no jealousy at all, however, we maintain that the trip was worth it, being memorable and fun. I hope your Christmas was as enjoyable.

Sultanahmet

For you picture hungry folk, we have brought another day of sight seeing action to your doorstep. We should note, perhaps, that we were rather cheap about it. We didn't pay for anything, which means that we didn't get to visit the harem quarters. That would bring a frowny face except that it is my understanding that they are no longer populated anyway. Here's a few quick examples and then the rest are available here.

It's hard to give an idea of how tall this thing is.
But to impress you, I'll simply state that this erection has been standing since 390 AD.

Short people like Mel make the height of this mosque tower all the more impressive. 

The beauty and grandeur of a mosque is meant to remind you of the majesty of god.
It also reminds you to take off your shoes and not talk too loudly.

Taken just before the genie picked the entire structure up and set it atop a nearby mountain so Jafar could rule instead.  

Taken on the palace grounds, Mel reclines amused at all the silly people
waiting in line to look at the many marvelous things they will never have. 

 Like a faberge egg that looks like it will hatch an emerald encrusted peacock but isn't even good for an omelet,
this gate is so pretty, it's no longer used. 

Welcome To School

Things have taken an odd turn. There seems to be a general prohibition against giving engineering jobs to foreigners in Turkey. Either that or my cover letter isn't so awesome as I thought it was. So I've changed gears.

I now have an on call substitute position with an international school in Istanbul. Yes, this is the same as my girlfriend. The key difference here is that she walks 5 minutes to work when I walk 25 minutes to a bus stop and then travel another hour before getting to work.

Currently this is "temporary." I don't know that I'll like this so it's okay that I'm not under any kind of contract. I make $100 a day so I can make about $2,000 a month if I happen to be needed every possible working day. That's enough to pay down a considerable amount of my student loans by year's end.

I'm assured that I'm a decent teacher and it appears that getting necessary certifications, should I choose to advance down this path is quite attainable. Then, because I can teach almost any science or math, I would be in high demand anywhere in the world, and especially so since I'd be part of a teaching couple.

Where will this take me? Where will I go? It's all still so uncertain.

Katamari in Berlin

Berlin has its own pre-black hole formation and Mel and I found it. Though neither of us succeeded in our spontaneously produced goals, we retrospectively count ourselves plenty lucky for not getting trapped in its gravitational pull.

Mel unsuccessfully attempts to free a watering pot.

I try to roll the whole damn thing home,
but I don't get it more than a couple of blocks before giving up.
I'm not sure how I would have fit it in my luggage, anyway.

My Highest Day

Dear Curious,

So I've done a couple of posts without any pictures and I know I'm losing those of you that are either visually stimulated or don't read so well. So here you go, lots of pics.

These were taken atop the tallest building of Potsdamer Platz. Here's the wiki link, which is worth checking out if a) you'd like to see there area from an aerial view or b) would like to read about all the history I'm not mentioning.

But I will mention that we rode up the fastest lift in Europe to get to the top of this building. Twenty-four stories in about 10 seconds, or 8.5 meters per second. No, that's still not comparable to Six Flags, but it's not too short of the elevator in Willie Wonka's Chocolate Factory where they shoot out the roof.

Anna and I recline because it's been two hours and we're still looking at how far away the ground is.

The people I went with: (from right) Thomas, Romeu, Anna, and so-and-so.

Remember the Brandenburg Gate (Tor)? That's it, just farther away.

Remember the giraffe? Yeah, that's it, but way smaller. But so are the people.

This is the Sony Center from the inside.
We went here to see Harry Potter 7: Harry Kicks Voldemort's Ass.

This is the same place from above. You see how it's the same?
The disappointing part is that you can't see Harry kicking Voldemort's ass from here.

This doesn't look particularly interesting, but it is. Berlin is a very flat area. No mountains, hills, speed bumps.
This bump on the horizon is actually man made. Of what you ask? (or perhaps didn't)
It's made of the rubble of Berlin, after WWII.

This is the Panorama bear. It has "PANORAMA" written from shoulder to shoulder, wrapping around its butt.
I tried to get a panoramic camera shot of it to catch the spirit, but my camera told me I had to stay still.
You get it anyway.

This is another monument dedicated to some aspect of WWII. I can't remember which.

Surprise! Here it is from far away.

This building is strange. It was once a real tent that stood for years.
After WWII they decided they wanted a permanent tent.
They got it.
The place isn't even for anything anymore, it's just there so they can have a permanent tent.

Berlin makes a big deal out of their super pointy TV tower the same way
Dallas does about their Reunion Tower and Seattle does about their Space Needle.
That's why Godzilla doesn't terrorize places like these.
There's actually something large enough and pointy enough to damage him.
Smart lizard, that.

Ne kedar?

Dear Curious,

Mel and I have learned a new survival phrase, "Ne kedar?" Before I relate the meaning, allow me to briefly tell the story leading up to its necessity.

We were passing some time while waiting for the ferry to depart for the island. I had expressed a need for some UV blocking sunglasses so we set off to find a suitable pair close to the docks. While walking and generally conversing with one another, I noticed a brush drop off of a boy's shoe shining kit just ahead of us (I'd guess his age to be 19). He seemed not to notice. Being a Texan, with all my ingrained manners, politeness and friendliness, I picked it up for him and said, "Sir, you dropped your brush," having no idea whether he understood even a word of what I'd said.

He turned around and looked at what I held in my hand and then down at his kit, suddenly looking relieved. Immediately, he sat down on the curb and beckoned me over, indicating that I put my foot up on his wares in thanks. I declined as I honestly didn't really want my shoes shined. They were running shoes. You don't shine those. He continued to gesture at me, and Mel, bending to her Texas-grown politeness said to me that he wanted to clean my shoes in return and urged me to just let him. Okay.

While he took what looked like a toothbrush dipped in dirty water to my shoes he conversed with me briefly about where we were from and how he was from so-and-so and that his father was in the hospital. Then he offered to do Mel's shoes as well, and she politely went along.

When he finished, he announced that that would be 25 TL (about $15) each. Both Mel and I were dumbstruck. Mine was twofold. First, of course, was the surprise that he was asking for payment when we thought he was simply returning kindness. Second was the surprise that this is what people paid for a shoe cleaning in Istanbul. The boy saw our hesitation and reconsidered, offering us 25 TL for both together. This seemed more reasonable and I felt a certain level of relief, but I still didn't even want the shoe cleaning in the first place!

My head was swimming, and Mel and I looked back and forth at each other in confusion. We both pulled out our wallets and I went strait for the change pocket. I pulled out most of what I had and held out about 3.50 TL. Mel pulled out a five.

"This is all we have."

"This isn't much."

"That's all we have."

The boy looked extremely disappointed. How could we be so rude as to cheat him so badly? We walked on expressing how sorry we were, wanting to put as much distance between ourselves and him as we could. Mel thanked me for being such a good liar. We were both loaded down with enough cash for an island getaway.

In the following days a suspicion had risen in my mind, which was confirmed shortly thereafter. We related the same story to a few of Mel's friends at the school. We hadn't gotten but a few lines into it, barely enough to give context of what the story was about, when Andy, a slightly disillusioned but fun and nice guy with a year's experience in Istanbul, interjected with, "Oh, you didn't fall for the dropped brush trick did you?" We hadn't even mentioned a brush. "Man, when you see a brush drop off a shoe shiner's stuff, you should kick it out into the street." We had thought about selling it back to the kid. 25 TL.

So there you go. Swindled out of money (albeit a small sum). And here we are with the new knowledge that as a tourist, being nice can cost a fair amount of money, which is very sad to us. What we've simply learned, and what we now pass on to you, our readers, is that if someone attempts to return a kindness in Turkey, simply ask, "Ne kedar?" or "How much?" before any service has been rendered. It might sound rude, but chances are, that brush wasn't dropped by accident.

Here's a few additional links to show you what else we have to look out against:
Scams Scams Scams
For the Single Male
Traveling Partners
General Tourist Traps (forum)

Ah, Turkey

This week has been an entirely new experience. If I haven't made you entirely aware of my movements, last Friday I hopped on a plane from Berlin to Istanbul where I was picked up on the Asian side by my loving girlfriend after 3 weeks separation. Of course, now that I've gotten around to writing this, I'm about to board the plane, which starts another 2 weeks of separation.


I won't bore with details, I respect you the reader too much for that. But I will outline a few highlights and try to give you some sort of picture of this rather insane city I'll be living in for the next two years.


First, thanks to Mel, I can say that I've experienced my first island getaway. We travelled by ferry to the largest island off the coast of Istanbul where we stayed the night in a beautiful hotel and enjoyed a refreshing bike ride around the island, swimming with jellyfish, and strawberry wine with various chocolate deserts on a third story balcony overlooking the length of Istanbul's Asian shore. I think this is the first time I've experienced the word "relaxation" perhaps ever.


The rest of the week was spent visiting the Grand Bazaar, including the spice and animal bazaars (we couldn't find a skunk). Somewhat unfortunately, this all occurred during the Ramadan Byzantium, meaning that the majority of all the shops were closed. Nonetheless, what I saw was truly staggering. It's like the deepest, widest flea market you've ever imagined, full of cheap merchandise that is meant to be haggled down to about 25 - 50% of initial asking price.


Istanbul itself is a pretty nuts city. I've never lived in a more dense or hilly area. The public buses strain under the weight of a full load as they trundle up a 30 degree incline at maximum allowed speed. The streets are narrow and the cabbies are fearless. The street signs and markings mean almost nothing, and even the rule "drive on the right side of the road" is regularly violated. Mel makes the observation that there are no rules, but it works because everyone is super alert. No texting and driving here. They can't. Head-on collisions are risked every minute down every stretch of road.


At 3 am the main walkway leading to Taksim Square is still so crowded with people walking in both directions that forward movement is often impeded. The street is easily five lanes wide. Bars, clubs, restaurants, hotels, and apartments run down every side street of this half-mile trek of businesses and lights, topped by four additional stories of people crazy enough to rent apartments above this all-night-every-night madness. This is just one area of the European side. We haven't even touched the high class clubs or the Asian side.


It's hard to think of getting to everything in the city in the next two years, but finances allowing, we'll give it our best shot. Wish us some luck.

Time's Up

Thanks for your patience on the load for this excessively large picture. What you're seeing in the picture above is a clock. Unfortunately many of the details are obscured by the busy background, but I just didn't have the good sense at the time to try a diagonal angle. The large bulbs on the left are filled on the hour and the disks on the right are filled once a minute. This doesn't occur in a trickle fashion. The creator of this clock has worked it out such that the water pressure builds up to just the right level within the labyrinth of pipes and then drains into each disk and then all the water from the disks into the bulb all at one time. This thing is flowing right now, ticking the minutes away liter by liter. I want one of these. Oh, except that I want the pump on mine to be powered by a rotating team of leprechauns in green velour track suits running on a hamster wheel and the water will actually be their green sweat that is collected. Yeah, it'll take a lot of leprechauns, but what else are they doing?

Trading One In for Another

Dear Curious,

Don't come to Berlin in the mood for nachos. You'll only find them at a couple of places. The same thing goes for your American style pizza. Instead, they serve Italian style, on which they consider cheese a topping (so if it's not specifically stated as being on there, it's not). Oh, and burritos are out. I didn't really start thinking about this until I noticed that the chicken wing deficiency is almost complete. They have exactly one flavor, which isn't quite buffalo and isn't quite BBQ. This probably doesn't even register as a problem to a person that doesn't see a trip to Buffalo Wild Wings or Plucker's as the highlight of a month.

But this isn't actually complaining. It's nice to have pizza that doesn't immediately give you the extra weight of a spare tire in the trunk. Not having the option of an all-carnivore meal with the gravitational pull of a super nova likely makes me much healthier at the end of the month and the lack of their spiciest flavors certainly saves my lips and stomach from numerous repairs.

But sometimes things remind me of America. Here the big fast food is Donner. I'll provide a picture later today, but the meat comes off a gigantic piece of pressed meat that rotates around a spit with a heat source on one side. Thus, as it rotates around meat can be sliced off of it in small strips. It is then placed on some sort of bread along with tomatoes, lettuce, red cabbage, onions, and the option of garlic, yogurt or chili sauce. The bread can be either this harder (sourdough like) bread that is cut open like a pita or a giant piece of bread that is almost exactly a tortilla. Thus, for the elusive burrito, Berlin has its substitute, the durum donner.

I spoke to someone about this on Friday night who has lived here his entire life and to him this is not just fast food. It was originally brought over by the Turks, but now Berlin has its own spin on it and, according to him, no one else does it the same. Berlin owns it. Melissa has confirmed this as she cannot get one of the basic options, falafel in place of donner meat, found in Berlin.

I'm enjoying the food here, but because so much of it is based around the sausage, I am excited about seeing what Istanbul has to offer. Mel says that I should be wagging my tail in excitement over the waffles. That's cool. I like waffles.

These nice young gentlemen are silently warning people of the dangers of Scientology.
The Scientologists have a promotional stand just behind these guys.
These gentlemen must wear masks to protect their identity b/c Scientologists don't much like badmouthing.

I join them for a brief second making a nonsense sign with my pinkies.
They were appreciative of the support, but also happy to see me leave.
Their signs read: Caution! Dangerous sect."
and they have pamphlets further explaining their presence as well. 

Sans Wheels

Historic Germany.

I've hung up the key on the bicycle. The problems on that bike make those NEXT Wal-Mart bicycles look like Rolex watches by comparison. I can put up with some difficult stuff, but it's gone too far this time. As I was riding to the Friday night Stammtisch the left pedal started feeling wobbly. I stopped to take a look at it and it turned out that the bolt holding the pedal arm had come loose. I rode onto my destination, but I had to stop to screw the bolt back in every quarter mile or less. This is serious business. If left unchecked, the entire pedal arm could fall off, and since I ride on roads with cars, I decided that this kind of calamity had to be avoided at all costs. 

Today I decided to fix it as much as possible. I spent about two hours adjusting the brakes, dealing with the splash guards that were rubbing up against the tire, adjusting the gears such that I had a 3rd gear (out of 21, that is, only 2 worked before), and of course permanently tightening the bolt on the pedal arm. I was proud of myself. I had taken care of all the bike's deficiencies that made it uncomfortable to ride. To celebrate I hopped on it to go to the soccer cage by my work. 

Lego giraffes don't care if
you pull their tails.

I successfully switched into my 3rd gear (the big one that makes a big difference) exactly one time. The next time I tried it made these clicking noises as the chain inched toward the change position, telling me that it only lacked a small fraction of an inch to actually change, but then never did so. I tested this multiple times, but then gave up, deciding that could continue to live without a 3rd gear. Many people only have one. I should count myself lucky. But then the pedal arm started wobbling again. This is after I had tightened it with a pair of wrenches. It seems impossible how quickly the bolt comes loose. It might as well not have any threads at all. I'd probably be better off plugging it up with a piece of cork. I took the train home, riding the bike only to the station and then to the house from the station. As a final insult, the bike's brakes started rubbing against the tire while in the neutral position again.

This makes me particularly sad because I know I won't be able to ride a bike in Istanbul because of the insane traffic. Oh well. I guess it is better to have rode and lost than to have never ridden at all.

Brandenburger Tor

Found it!

Dear Curious,

There are a crap load of pictures of the Brandenburg Gate all over the internet and elsewhere. Our additions don't add up to a whole lot, except that while many people can say they know what the thing looks like, not so many can say they've seen it with their eyes. We kind of like that last part.

What's difficult to appreciate about the gate from most tourist pictures
is that it has these carved scenes betwixt the columns.
Quite frankly, I think the columns are too close together or
the depicted scenes are too high up b/c it's nearly impossible to get a good look at them.
Wave Mel! Please. Come on! Oh, never mind.

The depicted scenes are a little strange.
In this one a giant baby wrestles with a snake.
Of course.

One of the nice things about Berlin is that you can make money doing almost anything.
Except for this girl.
She's pretty clueless on how to be a statue.
The guy on the far right has got it down, though.

Historically,  the place is pretty darned important. The plaque outside the gate tells me that it used to be part of an enveloping wall, and Wikipedia refreshes my memory by saying it was one of 18 gates of that wall, the last standing. It's been a favorite place for invading armies (we're talking Napoleon here) to march their troops under and be like, "This city is MINE! Understand, fools?" Napoleon also stole the horse drawn chariot (Quadriga) and brought it back to his own country. But history tells us that he didn't account for it not really rolling along like a real chariot and ended up leaving it at a gas station where it was later picked up by a tow truck and returned.

Ugly Bears

Dear Curious,

Today's picture comes from inside a mall. This may sound cheap since most of the tourist attractions, of which there are millions of pictures each, cost millions of dollars to produce, cost thousands each year to keep pretty, and have typically been around for a few hundred years (in Germany, anyway). But this particular picture truly catches some honest Berlin spirit.

What you see seated there is, in fact, a bear. There are hundreds, if not thousands, of these bears scattered about Berlin. This one is different b/c he is not in the typical pose (I'll try to get a "typical" bear picture to you in the future). You may not be able to tell, but this bear is in a German soccer outfit and in trying to make the bear look more human, it became that much more hideous. A wise lesson can be learned by any aspiring genetic engineers: bear human crosses are very ugly. Despite its lack of sexual attraction, however, I really like this bear just because he's so different from all the rest.

Fun fact: this picture happened to be taken on the same day the German women lost to the Japanese, ending their charge for the Women's World Cup.

I want my phone back

I've done very poorly in Berlin. Though I have the power of the internet at my places of work and slumber, I do not have it so constantly at my fingertips. This may make me sound like a yuppy, but I'm damn tired of trouncing around a city without an interactive map. I'm also tired of not being able to check my email or Facebook or whatever source originally told me where the event is at. Too many times my evenings have turned into city wandering as opposed to conversing with friends as I attempt in vain to find my desired location. I'm sorry, but pen and paper, you lose. And so does my memory. Perhaps this inability to prepare enough to find my destination is as much a result of having relied on my phone's guidance over so long as it is the shortcomings of conventional methods of pathfinding, but I don't really care at this point. I'm crippled and I want my crutch back.

There's just not enough room on my body to tattoo all the maps I need.

America Invades Germany

Welcome to Germany. Have an American burger.

I'll admit to not being much of a creature of comfort. I refuse to use a dishwasher because it wastes energy and water. Similarly, scenes like this don't do any particular good for me. Here, we see Checkpoint Charlie with a McDonald's in the background. This makes sense for the franchise, of course. Why not stick a typically American eatery right next to an American "outpost"? I'm sure it does great business.

But this isn't confined to Checkpoint Charlie. It's everywhere. And it's KFC. And it's Pizza Hut. And Subway.

I'm still not bothered too much because it is not Wal-Mart. Germans have rejected the concept. Good job there, Germany. You've retained your identity. But you're slipping into a convenience driven society on a daily basis. 

Take this for a comparison. One day Mel and I brought home a frozen pizza to heat up and enjoy at home (which, by the way is of Italian style--very different from American). Upon seeing it, Monika our landlady, said to me that she doesn't care for "fast food." This surprised both Mel and myself. We'd never thought to count frozen items bought at the store as fast food. We'd reserved that term for pre-made, pre-warmed sandwiches that have been sitting on a shelf, waiting for us to purchase them for up to and including one hour. I don't think anyone I know in the US would have ascribed that definition to frozen pizza, but I now feel it's true.

That's why I'm a bit bothered by these chains. They redefine convenience and make us unaware of our own habits. All this said when Mel and I discovered and enjoyed a little stand that sells brawtwurst, chili (jalapenos) cheese burgers, and fries that you eat right there (in about 2 minutes). We've eaten at turkish donner places and China Box stands all over the city. It's okay that we influence one another because it provides variety. But it seems apparent that the bad habits come first.

Mr. Ed Fills Mr. Sven

Mel and I ate friggin' horse on a pizza tonight. We didn't eat pizza while on a horse. Horse. It was in the marinara. It was sort of spicy, actually.

InterNations, Hosted by Maximus, or Seximus or Mexical... or something

Bev is a Brit and Katrin´s a Germ

This place is the station that got me to the event.
It looks like the Cowboy´s stadium and is just as confusing.

 Dear Curious,

This is Julian. He´s not only good looking, but he also has a British accent (because he´s British)
AND he´s a writer, so he´s interesting, too. Keeping him away from Mel, for sure.

Shenay is a PHD (or is working on it). Shenay speaks Turkish
and is helping to make cancer drugs cheaper. That´s great,
Shenay, but how are you helping me?

Yes, now that you ask, I do quite like going out and meeting all sorts of people from all sorts of different lands, asking them where they are from and what makes that so different from here or Texas.

Really, meeting people started at work today where I met the last of the bosses. Volker (pronounced `Folkah`) to myself and two other fellows who are rather good at chatting out to lunch today. I can´t say I think that went splendidly, but it happened anyway, now didn´t it? I made good conversation at least, but I need to keep my bloody mouth shut about politics, I think. Nobody cares if you´re conservative or liberal except you and those that oppose you, ya dumbard.

The InterNations event went swimmingly, I suppose. I more or less verified that I can talk to pretty much any soul that I decide to talk to and I have several numbers and names to prove so much. I like this idea of "Idiot America" as it gives me a sturdy crutch on which to lean. If something is terrible in America, I blame it on Bush. But mostly I act excited (and when I say àct`that´s mostly ingenuine because it´s actually quite genuine) to be talking to people with honestly different viewpoints than myself.

I would like to thank my girlfriend for being awesome at this time. Without even being there she has helped me make friends as I have promised the presence of a truly interesting and funny person at my side in just a couple of weeks. It´s like saying over and over again, "Oh yes, William Faulkner, one of the great American authors should be by visit me in so-and-so time. You really should drop in to say hello." I really don´t think they´ll be the least bit disappointed. Good news. Some of them have British accents!

I´m sleepy and there´s more stuff to do tomorrow, including meaningful work (honest yay!). I hope this blog reaches many other happy people. If it doesn´t hit you as happy, consider a trip out of the US.

Ich bin auf einem Schiff, Schlampe!

I feel a good bit better now having just gotten back from my first social event since I got here. I talked to Germans and Taiwanese and French and Americans.

The German girl told me about an English teacher she met that also had the same problem with Germans that I do. It was so hard for her to meet people that after 5 years she had few friends. Apparently, she just gave up. I guess I should take that as a que. Somehow she managed a boyfriend, though. The girl I was talking to was particularly surprised about this because, according to her, German men are going through a phase in reaction to general changing gender roles, making them shy toward women so it´s rare to be approached by one. Good. Fewer Germs to hit on my girlfriend.

The Tai girl had been studying "Egyptology" for the past 10 years and was hopefully within 2 years of finishing her dissertation. I didn´t bother asking her what she planned on doing with that degree b/c I didn´t want her to tell me she still didn´t know.

One French dude was getting over his previous employment with Exxon, but he knew 5 languages and was in the process of learning Russian (a very hard language). Another thought it was a very fun game to make me guess what country his grandparents were from. Turns out it´s not really a freaking country, it´s some extension of France from much time back. Guadalupe, I think. Ring a bell to anyone?

The American guys were from Verginia. They were just there for 2 weeks so who cares about them, but the organizer, Charlie was actually from Seattle. I could tell by his teeth that he drinks a lot of wine, so he must be a merry old soul.

Finally, another German told me about his past work in male contraceptives... and how they failed pretty miserably. So a swift kick to the crotch is still the best method. But he´s in the biotech industry and he gave me some pointers on what I might direct my career toward.

Anyway, none of that even freaking matters, but I´m just so happy to have been able to talked to people that I felt I had to write about it. I think I´ve found something to do on Wednesday nights.

Dear Curious,

Germany hates Wal-Mart.

The very same person who has encouraged me into writing a blog and has further encouraged me to try to make it interesting as opposed to completely self-serving has also warned me that those who use their blog to whine and bitch about why they don´t get everything their way are quickly discarded as the ugly crap they write. Thus, this wise person has saved you from much gnashing of teeth. So instead of crying about my pathetic experience, I am instead writing a cautionary guide for would-be travelers and a fragmented tale of hilarity for those who enjoy seeing others humiliated and convulsing with fear.

I´ve spent many years turning my grocery shopping into a coordinated dance, charging through the self-checkout lane in a masterful glissade cutting through the cumbersome masses. So I was very hesitant to enter Germany´s stores since I was aware that the familiarity that gave me such grace in America was certain to be absent, making me no better than the grandma in front of you who pulls out her checkbook and then, after searching for a good while, asks if she can borrow a pen.

So here´s why you´ll be pleading for a Wal-Mart after you stop by your local German grocery:

1) Don´t expect to see a single familiar brand. If you´re lucky, the pickle jar will still be see-through, which will be endlessly helpful if you don´t understand German. If it looks like octopus, it´s probably just sauerkraut, but it´s best not to get it, all the same.

2) No family-sized packaging here. All the pre-packaged meat comes in 100g portions so you know that 30% of what you´re paying for is plastic. I think this also has something to do with why they´re so skinny. Likewise, you can´t buy even 2 bars of soap in the same package.

3) You´ll probably put this unpleasant business off for a while so that when you get there you´ll have a lot of stuff to get. DON´T DO THIS! The first couple of times you go through the line, get 1 or 2 items. This will make you less susceptible to the horrors they have in store for you at the checkout. Unlike the broken spirits at Wal-Mart who have to show at least some similitude of courtesy when you screw up, these people are obviously trained to let you know that you´re a complete asshole.

4) The checkout attendants are very efficient. This would please us in America, but in Germany they don´t bag your items so you´re an asshole for trying to bag your frozen items all in separate bags from you´re squishy vegetables as they zip each item past the scanner at light speed.

5) Of course your first time through you´re not even sure how the hell you´re supposed to bag your stuff up because they don´t provide bags for you at all. You know that crazy initiative to use less plastic on grocery bags we have in America? Yeah, completely compulsory in Germany. They´ll sell you a crappy bag as your your items first stack up just beyond the scanner and then spill out onto the floor as the cashier and everyone behind you starts to become seriously convinced that you are a total ignoramus... and asshole.

6) It turns out that it´s an important thing to check before you go in with a big long list of things to get and no cash in your pocket, whether they take credit cards or not. I´m not yet certain why Germany is so far behind America on accepting electronic payments, but they are. Note that they are behind, but to every single person, impatiently waiting for you to stop being an idiot American, you are undoubtedly the biggest asshole on the planet for not being able to pay for this ever-growing mountain of cans and bottles of stuff--whose contents you are genuinely unsure of--that are piling up at your feet because you don´t even have a bag to put them in!

Some days are harder than others, is all.

On a side note, as I end this, and as you contemplate how nice it will be to go to a familiar store in the near future, please put it on your "to do" list to smile at someone. Don´t just smile around them, hoping they´ll notice, but direct it straight at them so that there´s no way they can escape it. What you´re likely to get back, if you can manage to make it a genuine smile and prevent yourself from instead delivering a frightening grimace, is a reaction of slight shock and perhaps a moment of appreciation, and if you are very lucky, a smile in return.

Cherish this return. Because this is unheard of in Germany.

I played around with smiling directly at people today and yesterday and found that 98% of all people have absolutely mastered the sudden eye glaze, followed by a 60 degree head turn just before eye contact can be made. The person, even standing still and directly in front of you, can then somehow continue to avoid eye contact even as you actively try to engage them almost indefinitely. This is very different from Texas. Just try it out and see what I mean. People are reluctant in Texas, but not frightened.

In the future, look for significantly more upbeat posts such as Berlin Graffitis Tradition into Oblivion, and Ruthless Killers are Hungry, Too.

Come on Germany! I´m trying to look up to you here.

A Warm and Previously Unusual Welcome to Berlin

Dear Curious,

I´m not going to make it much of a personal goal to try to get through everything I´ve experienced or thought thus far because that would just bore you after too many lines, no matter the content. That´s really just a concession I had to accept I´d have to repeatedly make when I chose not to pursue the role of an author in my professional career. I can hear some of you sighing a breath of relief all the way over here in Germany.

The first thing I noticed as I flew into Germany is that they decided not to chop down all their trees like we did. Even as large as Berlin is, it seems as if they still tried to “nestle” the place into the woods, as if it were built by a team of industrial fairies straight out of Fern Gully.

The second thing I noticed is that I was able to notice the first thing as I flew in at 9:30pm. It doesn´t get dark here until nearly 10:30, then the damn sun comes up at just after 6am, meaning there´s plenty of light in the sky during the 5 o´clock hour. “None to worry,” the locals assure me, “during the winter the opposite happens,” producing temperatures of as little as -20 degrees Celsius (which is far lower than -20 Fahrenheit).

German folks appear to be significantly taller and skinnier than the typical Texan. I´m right around average height in Texas and probably America. I can almost always look around the room and find the same number of people shorter as are taller than me. But in Germany, I feel like a midget. My initial guess is that people are on average a full inch (and perhaps 1.5”) taller. And as far as weight goes, I´ll simply say that I haven´t seen a single person I believe even might be over 300 pounds. Of course they don´t have Wal-Marts for these people to congregate in either.

I´ll end by retelling an unexpected first Berlin presented me with today. I decided to strike out into unknown territory and just get lost on the rail and get out wherever I finally got dizzy. I emerged at a little station exit named Kurfürsten-Straße. There wasn´t anything particularly dazzling about the place, but I pressed on, anyway.

As I turned a corner I became aware that a girl was meandering strangely around a parking area. She gave the impression she was trying to get my attention, but she made no overt gesture to indicate so much so I walked along pondering the occurrence and keeping her in my peripheral vision, noting that she had definitely altered her course toward me.

Then I became aware of a regularly dressed, small and Hispanic-looking girl just in front of me who was also walking my way, making eye contact as she moved. This was very noticeable, as one of the quickly defining characteristics of the German people seems to be that they stick to their own business. Then she asked something her German accent that I couldn´t quite make out.

I asked politely, “I´m sorry. What?”

Abandoning her first attempt, she responded with an equally polite smile and quick but slightly hesitant answer in a different wording,  “Sechs.”

For those of you not studying the German language, this means “six.” Immediately I understood. She was obviously an undercover Sesame Street character peddling out the daily wares. And while I have to admit that six is one of my favorite numbers, I just wasn´t in the mood for it at the moment and politely declined her offer with a, “No, but thank you!” feeling as if I gave a strange emphasis to the thanks.

As I continued to walk along I continued to notice a multitude of other high-heeled ladies who had obviously been affected by the children´s television show as much as I was because they were all very friendly and eager to make eye contact. Despite this, I felt the strange sensation that this wasn´t the best part of town. And since I had my passport on me, I felt it wise to move on to a safer feeling area.

So thanks to Berlin for introducing me to the Sesame Street mafia. That´s a very memorable first for me.

And a few pictures to keep you visually stimulated...

That´s right. Just about every street corner and yard has a
purple and green spotted cow, complete with golden udders.

Of course when we park on the sidewalk in America we get ticketed.
They totally EXPECT you to here. 

My German still isn´t great, but I´m pretty sure this means
"Playground out back"

Crow Collection of Asian Art

Mel, Mom, and I took a day to marvel at the wonders of Oriental art. It was nice. They continually played this super soothing music in the background that consistently failed to make my feet feel any better. I can't complain, though, since admission was free. Mostly I learned that Oriental people use Jade for everything, from mirrors to weapons of war to toothbrushes. Basically, anyone who didn't like green was screwed. I was sad I couldn't buy the little samurai doll for Mom that could battle Janice's evil, ugly tribesmen dolls, but I just didn't have the $1700 on hand. 

We ate at the Cosmic Cafe on Oak Lawn afterward. That's delicious, meatless food with all sorts of crazy colors everywhere. Fantastic. 

Rawwwwwwwr!

Mom gets a few new ideas for her house.

No, granite and Oriental art don't go together,

but no one seems to mind.

 Mel poses before a Samurai warrior who protects his junk from a dragon.

 Mom and Mell are showered by origami swans.

That's the Cosmic Cafe in the background. It's your reward for crossing the street without dying.

1st Anniversary with Mel

Mel and I have made it quite comfortably through a marvelous year 1. We celebrated by going out to the Pocket Sandwich Theater to see 20,000 Babes Beneath the Sea. There were not quite 20,000 babes, but a misnomer here and there never started a holocaust. 

We were accompanied by Ethan and Jackie, who have quite easily become our best friends over the course of our year together. It's nice having couple friends that can laugh and come up with the unabashedly off-color jokes that so typify our back and forth's. Thanks, guys.

This year we got a real kick out of throwing popcorn. Maybe next year we'll make it a bit more interesting and find an event we can throw dynamite at. So stay tuned.

 Mel is smiling b/c she knows she's finally going to get to eat.

 Ethan is excited: he landed a good kernel dead-center of a dude's bald patch.

 "I slipped acid into your drinks."

"You did WHAT???"

"I think he's serious."