I am back in Cologne, in the same hotel as I had stayed back in September, and staying the night so I can arrive at the airport early tomorrow morning. To go back to the States.
It's such a strange feeling. Today was a day of more goodbyes, though no tears fell this time. I said goodbye to the Lierses (Meerit gave me a big hug and fought back tears, while I told her that we will see each other again) and to Maryle. I said goodbye to my favorite bakery and told one of the two nice women who run it thanks. I said goodbye to Klein Hehlen, to my flat, and to the family dog, Baroo. Yesterday, I said goodbye to my field.
I said goodbye to Celle.
It's quite surreal. I can't accurately explain it, but I created a life for myself while living there, and I loved the job I was assigned. Now unemployed and going back to Alabama, I have to start from scratch.
A new adventure.
I love new adventures.
Showing posts with label contemplations. Show all posts
Showing posts with label contemplations. Show all posts
Monday, June 28, 2010
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Die letzten Tage
Guess who is exhausted.
Guess who said goodbye to her students and coworkers from Tuesday to today.
Guess who is frantically packing and wrapping things up at the end of this week.
Yeah, that'd be me.
Apologies that I haven't been updating, especially when I have so much about which to write. But, given the emotional and mental stress I've been under, I know I shouldn't recall events until things have calmed down a bit, at the expense of missing out on recording thoughts as they are felt. Suffice to say, my time as a teaching assistant at the Grundschule Klein Hehlen was generally wonderful, and there will be a small ache in my heart that I won't see most of these people/children again, even when I do come back sometime in the vague future.
I do want to acknowledge Frau Doehrmann at this moment, since saying goodbye to her was one of the hardest things to do; she is someone I genuinely respect and admire, and it was always a pleasure working with such a kind and intelligent woman. She is part of the reason why I worked so well with 2a, and because of her I was able to develop my teaching skills and lesson planning. She is a good teacher, but she is also a good person. That left a permanent impression on me.
It sounds cheesy, I know, and perhaps it is the residual emotional gunk from yesterday's goodbye. But, it's my blog, and I'll get sentimental if I want to.
There are many things to record, among them being: teaching 3c and 4a alone; breakfast with my landlords and their children; Tag der Niedersachsen and the Americans; Tuesday's classes with 3b and 2a; Wednesday's goodbyes and the assembly; and coffee with Elisabeth and Silke. This may have to wait until I'm back in the States.
This post sounds rather melancholy, and in truth it is, for the most part. But, it's also a simple statement that though goodbyes are hard, the reason why they're so hard in this particular situation speaks volumes about this year. And it must have been damn special for me to feel this much sorrow about leaving.
Ein Platz im Grünen mit vielen Bäumen,
viel Raum zum Spielen, Toben und Träumen.
Hier treff' ich meine Freunde und wir lernen was für's Leben,
mit Kopf und Herz und Hand vom Nehmen und vom Geben.
Das tun wir hier zusammen in Klein Hehlen.
Guess who said goodbye to her students and coworkers from Tuesday to today.
Guess who is frantically packing and wrapping things up at the end of this week.
Yeah, that'd be me.
Apologies that I haven't been updating, especially when I have so much about which to write. But, given the emotional and mental stress I've been under, I know I shouldn't recall events until things have calmed down a bit, at the expense of missing out on recording thoughts as they are felt. Suffice to say, my time as a teaching assistant at the Grundschule Klein Hehlen was generally wonderful, and there will be a small ache in my heart that I won't see most of these people/children again, even when I do come back sometime in the vague future.
I do want to acknowledge Frau Doehrmann at this moment, since saying goodbye to her was one of the hardest things to do; she is someone I genuinely respect and admire, and it was always a pleasure working with such a kind and intelligent woman. She is part of the reason why I worked so well with 2a, and because of her I was able to develop my teaching skills and lesson planning. She is a good teacher, but she is also a good person. That left a permanent impression on me.
It sounds cheesy, I know, and perhaps it is the residual emotional gunk from yesterday's goodbye. But, it's my blog, and I'll get sentimental if I want to.
There are many things to record, among them being: teaching 3c and 4a alone; breakfast with my landlords and their children; Tag der Niedersachsen and the Americans; Tuesday's classes with 3b and 2a; Wednesday's goodbyes and the assembly; and coffee with Elisabeth and Silke. This may have to wait until I'm back in the States.
This post sounds rather melancholy, and in truth it is, for the most part. But, it's also a simple statement that though goodbyes are hard, the reason why they're so hard in this particular situation speaks volumes about this year. And it must have been damn special for me to feel this much sorrow about leaving.
Ein Platz im Grünen mit vielen Bäumen,
viel Raum zum Spielen, Toben und Träumen.
Hier treff' ich meine Freunde und wir lernen was für's Leben,
mit Kopf und Herz und Hand vom Nehmen und vom Geben.
Das tun wir hier zusammen in Klein Hehlen.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
It's Getting Close
Very soon, I will have to write a blog post that I have been dreading writing, and that concerns a summary and reflection of my tenure as a Fulbright E.T.A. It means that I have to say goodbye to a job that I've loved dearly and to children who don't really know it, but who have made an impact on me. A frightfully big impact.
They're not without their faults. They're ungrateful, sometimes bratty, sometimes spiteful little ducks, but for the most part they're the most well-behaved students I've seen. I know that most will not remember me other than the fact that there was an American E.T.A. at their school, even though I was actively doing things in their classes at least once a week all year. I also know that some teachers will be relieved to get back to teaching solo.
And I'm okay with this. I've loved every minute of it, including the stressful and hurtful parts.
The grief that I'll have is necessary. If I didn't have the grief, then this time wouldn't have mattered to me as much as it has.
A few things have happened since my last post. Two Sundays ago, I went with Maryle and Rachel, the Dresden Fulbrighter with whom I stayed over New Year's, to Hildesheim, a quaint town in Niedersachsen. It really was a pretty place, and we spent most of our time outside walking around or inside churches. The most notable aspect of our trip was the absolute quiet that surrounded us, as most shops are closed on Sundays in Germany. It was certainly the quietest trip I have taken. Other interesting things about the trip include: the 1,000-year rosebush, the St. Michaelis Kirche (claimed to be 1,000 years old, but it's more like 700), getting a free tour from an elderly man in the St. Andreas Kirche, getting Spaghetti Eis (yes, spaghetti ice cream), and taking a picture of a half-eaten sandwich.
This past Saturday brought about the last opera I am to see here in Germany (for awhile, anyway): Puccini's Madama Butterfly. The production was quite good, but I had a sad feeling in my heart when I gave the opera house one last glance, for I knew that the curtain had drawn on one of my favorite pastimes here in Germany. Having seen six operas in ten months, I call this an accomplishment, and I have Maryle to thank for getting me into this form of theatre and music.
Sunday also was a bit busy for me, as my fellow substitute/friend, Katrin, had invited me to coffee. She picked me up and drove to Hehlener Tor, a suburb of Celle (whereas I live in Klein Hehlen). The cafe, KraeuThaer, is actually a cooking school, and all of the food is made by the students. Katrin had invited another one of the substitutes, Helga, along, and Annagriet, one of the actual teachers at GKH, also came. All in all, it was a very enjoyable visit, and we spent about three and a half hours talking. I really do appreciate it that Katrin went out of her way to invite me to do something before I left, and her gift of a "good luck" book will have a place in my special bookcase back in Huntsville.
This week has been hectic, as so many teachers are out either on class trips or because of illness. Because of this, I have been promoted to full substitute for English, which is fine. It would have been better had Suzana actually left, you know, lesson plans, but I don't want to sound greedy.
Next week will be painful.
Next week I must say goodbye.
They're not without their faults. They're ungrateful, sometimes bratty, sometimes spiteful little ducks, but for the most part they're the most well-behaved students I've seen. I know that most will not remember me other than the fact that there was an American E.T.A. at their school, even though I was actively doing things in their classes at least once a week all year. I also know that some teachers will be relieved to get back to teaching solo.
And I'm okay with this. I've loved every minute of it, including the stressful and hurtful parts.
The grief that I'll have is necessary. If I didn't have the grief, then this time wouldn't have mattered to me as much as it has.
* * *
A few things have happened since my last post. Two Sundays ago, I went with Maryle and Rachel, the Dresden Fulbrighter with whom I stayed over New Year's, to Hildesheim, a quaint town in Niedersachsen. It really was a pretty place, and we spent most of our time outside walking around or inside churches. The most notable aspect of our trip was the absolute quiet that surrounded us, as most shops are closed on Sundays in Germany. It was certainly the quietest trip I have taken. Other interesting things about the trip include: the 1,000-year rosebush, the St. Michaelis Kirche (claimed to be 1,000 years old, but it's more like 700), getting a free tour from an elderly man in the St. Andreas Kirche, getting Spaghetti Eis (yes, spaghetti ice cream), and taking a picture of a half-eaten sandwich.
Rachel: "Why would someone leave a sandwich here?" (as all three of us whip out our cameras)
This past Saturday brought about the last opera I am to see here in Germany (for awhile, anyway): Puccini's Madama Butterfly. The production was quite good, but I had a sad feeling in my heart when I gave the opera house one last glance, for I knew that the curtain had drawn on one of my favorite pastimes here in Germany. Having seen six operas in ten months, I call this an accomplishment, and I have Maryle to thank for getting me into this form of theatre and music.
Sunday also was a bit busy for me, as my fellow substitute/friend, Katrin, had invited me to coffee. She picked me up and drove to Hehlener Tor, a suburb of Celle (whereas I live in Klein Hehlen). The cafe, KraeuThaer, is actually a cooking school, and all of the food is made by the students. Katrin had invited another one of the substitutes, Helga, along, and Annagriet, one of the actual teachers at GKH, also came. All in all, it was a very enjoyable visit, and we spent about three and a half hours talking. I really do appreciate it that Katrin went out of her way to invite me to do something before I left, and her gift of a "good luck" book will have a place in my special bookcase back in Huntsville.
This week has been hectic, as so many teachers are out either on class trips or because of illness. Because of this, I have been promoted to full substitute for English, which is fine. It would have been better had Suzana actually left, you know, lesson plans, but I don't want to sound greedy.
Next week will be painful.
Next week I must say goodbye.
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Another One of Those Gosh-Darn Pre-Trip Posts
Right. We were to Madrid. Yes, Madrid.
...In other news, I'm most likely going to Oslo tomorrow in order to visit a good friend of mine, Lizzi, for the weekend.
That's right. It's another one of those gosh-darn lovable pre-trip posts. Which means that any substantial updating about the previous trip I took may or may not be delayed (just like my flight--oooooooh, I went there. Wait; my flight may or may not be canceled). It depends on how bored I am tonight, really.
Unless you have been living under a rock for the past week, you may have heard of a little volcano in Iceland creating a big stink because no one will pay attention to it. And if either my flight tomorrow or my return flight Monday is canceled, I will personally row my way to Iceland and punch that volcano right in its ashy nuts.
Yes. I went there.
If this were to occur (the cancellation part; not the punching), I suppose I'd rather the first flight be canceled, as that would prevent me from being stranded in Oslo and unable to go to work (and causing Lizzi, who has very considerately offered up the remaining space in her dorm, to board me for a longer period of time...er, right, Lizzi? ...Lizzi?). I have a feeling, though, that things will work out, as they have a tendency of doing in life. A cancellation to Oslo would simply mean that I'd have to reschedule, and one from Oslo would mean that I'd just have to wait a bit to go back to Celle. In the grand scope of things, it's really not that bad.
Speaking of Lizzi's hospitality, I'm going to give her a shout-out right here and now for extending an invitation to me and offering up her dorm space, along with catering me around the city and the places she so loves and cherishes. So, Lizzi, thank you for letting me share in that. And, you know, it'll be kind of super-awesome that I get to see my dear, INTENSE friend.
I usually have pre-trip nerves, and I do admittedly have some now. I have to be at the Hamburg airport (so, we meet again, Hamburg) about two hours before the flight, so I'll get to see firsthand how the construction at the Celle Bahnhof is coming along...and I know that the airport will be a mess, considering all of the flight cancellations within the past week (I'm looking at you, Iceland...and perhaps unnecessary airspace restrictions). And there could be the occurrence that I could be shunted aside for someone else to fly to Norway, if my plane is full and priority is given to stranded passengers. But, you know what? If that happens, well, I can spend a bit of time in Hamburg before heading back to Celle.
This will be one of, if not the, last international trips I'll take while living in Europe this go-round, and I'm a-okay with that. I love traveling, and I will continue doing so when I'm back in the States, but it's enough for right now. If I can, I'd like to see if I can visit my English relatives again, and I want to see more of Niedersachsen. In fact, my coworker, Elisabeth, has decided that we will go to a couple of places in Niedersachsen a couple of Wednesdays in June, which I look forward to. She frequently scolds me for going to all of these places abroad and not seeing what's here in my state, and I have to agree with her on that. And that will be rectified.
I also look forward to spending my time in Celle. It's a quirky town, yes, but I love it dearly. When the weather is continuously warm (which looks to be starting next week, yay!), I will spend my time in the field, in the Altstadt, at the school, and at Maryle's, enjoying the time spent here in my beloved town. It's a sweet respite for the busy life of a Fulbright scholar--the town in which one is placed.
...In other news, I'm most likely going to Oslo tomorrow in order to visit a good friend of mine, Lizzi, for the weekend.
That's right. It's another one of those gosh-darn lovable pre-trip posts. Which means that any substantial updating about the previous trip I took may or may not be delayed (just like my flight--oooooooh, I went there. Wait; my flight may or may not be canceled). It depends on how bored I am tonight, really.
Unless you have been living under a rock for the past week, you may have heard of a little volcano in Iceland creating a big stink because no one will pay attention to it. And if either my flight tomorrow or my return flight Monday is canceled, I will personally row my way to Iceland and punch that volcano right in its ashy nuts.
Yes. I went there.
If this were to occur (the cancellation part; not the punching), I suppose I'd rather the first flight be canceled, as that would prevent me from being stranded in Oslo and unable to go to work (and causing Lizzi, who has very considerately offered up the remaining space in her dorm, to board me for a longer period of time...er, right, Lizzi? ...Lizzi?). I have a feeling, though, that things will work out, as they have a tendency of doing in life. A cancellation to Oslo would simply mean that I'd have to reschedule, and one from Oslo would mean that I'd just have to wait a bit to go back to Celle. In the grand scope of things, it's really not that bad.
Speaking of Lizzi's hospitality, I'm going to give her a shout-out right here and now for extending an invitation to me and offering up her dorm space, along with catering me around the city and the places she so loves and cherishes. So, Lizzi, thank you for letting me share in that. And, you know, it'll be kind of super-awesome that I get to see my dear, INTENSE friend.
I usually have pre-trip nerves, and I do admittedly have some now. I have to be at the Hamburg airport (so, we meet again, Hamburg) about two hours before the flight, so I'll get to see firsthand how the construction at the Celle Bahnhof is coming along...and I know that the airport will be a mess, considering all of the flight cancellations within the past week (I'm looking at you, Iceland...and perhaps unnecessary airspace restrictions). And there could be the occurrence that I could be shunted aside for someone else to fly to Norway, if my plane is full and priority is given to stranded passengers. But, you know what? If that happens, well, I can spend a bit of time in Hamburg before heading back to Celle.
This will be one of, if not the, last international trips I'll take while living in Europe this go-round, and I'm a-okay with that. I love traveling, and I will continue doing so when I'm back in the States, but it's enough for right now. If I can, I'd like to see if I can visit my English relatives again, and I want to see more of Niedersachsen. In fact, my coworker, Elisabeth, has decided that we will go to a couple of places in Niedersachsen a couple of Wednesdays in June, which I look forward to. She frequently scolds me for going to all of these places abroad and not seeing what's here in my state, and I have to agree with her on that. And that will be rectified.
I also look forward to spending my time in Celle. It's a quirky town, yes, but I love it dearly. When the weather is continuously warm (which looks to be starting next week, yay!), I will spend my time in the field, in the Altstadt, at the school, and at Maryle's, enjoying the time spent here in my beloved town. It's a sweet respite for the busy life of a Fulbright scholar--the town in which one is placed.
Monday, April 19, 2010
Cough, Cough, Hack
You know, I would like it if this kennel cough would go away. I'm pretty certain that it's eventually going to become parvo (yes, I know the two are unrelated), since I've had it since Barcelona.
OH HEY, how about that. So, yeah, that, um, Osterferien trip, there. I should get on that. Like, right now. Since it's been, you know, a month since the onset of that trip.
Yeah. Sorry about that. Isn't it funny how, when we actually have things about which to write, we really don't want to write at all? That's what I've been suffering lately, but that could just be the parvo talking.
Suffice to say, my Osterferien was very much an adventure, seeing as my travel partner in crime and I hopped from Hamburg, to Hassocks/London/Brighton, to Lisbon, to Madrid, to Barcelona, to Backnang/Murrhardt/Stuttgart, and then back to home, sweet Celle. Every location has at least one story behind it, some misadventures, and back pains, and each and every one of them should be recorded.
Good luck with that. Snort.
Seriously, though, I'm going to devote my day off to making individual posts about each location, so expect to be reading a lot, if you are one of my faithful followers. Additionally, faithful cult followers: HEY LOOK, I'M UPDATING; ISN'T IT GREAT? (COUGH, COUGH, HACK, DEAD)
But, before I go into things of yestermonth, here's a healthy helping of reflection and looking toward the future. You're going to have to eat every bit of it in order to get dessert, so suck it up and scarf down your peas.
It is now a little over two months before I head back to Huntsville, and though this is lingering in the back of my mind and slowly driving me insane by the mere thought of it, I really will be glad to be back. I have come to this decision, and it doesn't bother me in the slightest. Why? Why would I look forward to coming back and I not staying in Germany? Isn't that mundane? No, I don't particularly see it that way. My time here in Celle will be just enough because I'll have learned what I've needed by that time. This isn't to say that this is all that I need to learn from being and living abroad, for that's simply not the case, but for this particular time in my life, and for this particular experience, I find that all that I've learned has set the foundation for what I will contribute in my life. No, I don't have a firm grasp on exactly what that is, but this Fulbright grant happened for a reason and has undoubtedly shaped many aspects of my maturity and future growth. I simply don't believe that going back to Huntsville will stunt any growth whatsoever, and though I know I will not stay there for a long period of time (grad school be a-callin', fools), it's a pretty cool place to be. And I like it.
So, as I reflect on my accomplishments of these past months and determine just how this experience will contribute to what I'll do in the future (though I have only a small idea of how it'll pan out), I have no regrets. I like what I've done, and I look forward to seeing what I'll do later. Again, maybe it's the lucidity that kicks in right before parvo snuffs the light out of my puppy allegory, but things are lookin' up.
Yeah, that was difficult to swallow. Good job, though. Now, for dessert. Hamburg misadventure, here we come.
...after I purchase groceries. Being true to nature, I have no food.
OH HEY, how about that. So, yeah, that, um, Osterferien trip, there. I should get on that. Like, right now. Since it's been, you know, a month since the onset of that trip.
Yeah. Sorry about that. Isn't it funny how, when we actually have things about which to write, we really don't want to write at all? That's what I've been suffering lately, but that could just be the parvo talking.
Suffice to say, my Osterferien was very much an adventure, seeing as my travel partner in crime and I hopped from Hamburg, to Hassocks/London/Brighton, to Lisbon, to Madrid, to Barcelona, to Backnang/Murrhardt/Stuttgart, and then back to home, sweet Celle. Every location has at least one story behind it, some misadventures, and back pains, and each and every one of them should be recorded.
Good luck with that. Snort.
Seriously, though, I'm going to devote my day off to making individual posts about each location, so expect to be reading a lot, if you are one of my faithful followers. Additionally, faithful cult followers: HEY LOOK, I'M UPDATING; ISN'T IT GREAT? (COUGH, COUGH, HACK, DEAD)
But, before I go into things of yestermonth, here's a healthy helping of reflection and looking toward the future. You're going to have to eat every bit of it in order to get dessert, so suck it up and scarf down your peas.
It is now a little over two months before I head back to Huntsville, and though this is lingering in the back of my mind and slowly driving me insane by the mere thought of it, I really will be glad to be back. I have come to this decision, and it doesn't bother me in the slightest. Why? Why would I look forward to coming back and I not staying in Germany? Isn't that mundane? No, I don't particularly see it that way. My time here in Celle will be just enough because I'll have learned what I've needed by that time. This isn't to say that this is all that I need to learn from being and living abroad, for that's simply not the case, but for this particular time in my life, and for this particular experience, I find that all that I've learned has set the foundation for what I will contribute in my life. No, I don't have a firm grasp on exactly what that is, but this Fulbright grant happened for a reason and has undoubtedly shaped many aspects of my maturity and future growth. I simply don't believe that going back to Huntsville will stunt any growth whatsoever, and though I know I will not stay there for a long period of time (grad school be a-callin', fools), it's a pretty cool place to be. And I like it.
Huntsville. Land of the cult sticks (Green Mountain, July '09).
Admittedly, it will be great to reunite with friends and family and to have a solid social circle (say that three times fast), and I have been homesick every now and then. It's natural. But, I'm also really looking forward to the next step in my awesomeness, particularly when thinking about future studies and occupations. I'd like to study abroad (which I've actually never done), or find a specialization that allows me to travel and actively do something within the community, like teach English or whatnot. That would be, quite simply, awesome-sauce.So, as I reflect on my accomplishments of these past months and determine just how this experience will contribute to what I'll do in the future (though I have only a small idea of how it'll pan out), I have no regrets. I like what I've done, and I look forward to seeing what I'll do later. Again, maybe it's the lucidity that kicks in right before parvo snuffs the light out of my puppy allegory, but things are lookin' up.
Yeah, that was difficult to swallow. Good job, though. Now, for dessert. Hamburg misadventure, here we come.
...after I purchase groceries. Being true to nature, I have no food.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
How Strange, How It Goes
That's a rather German title, I've realized.
I know I should start posting about my Osterferien, as so many things went on that I want to share with all of you, but this is more on my mind right now.
It's now been over a year since I was notified that I had received the Fulbright grant. On April 2nd, 2009, I had received a cryptic, yet obviously positive email from Fulbright about the grant authorization. I remember sitting in the Writing Center (I'm pretty sure I wasn't on duty, but was just hanging out because it was literally my second home) and showing Drew and Sheila the email, about telling my Philosophy instructor about it in the Honors Lounge, and forwarding the email to family and a professor or two for verification. On April 3rd, when I was in the car to Texarkana for Brittany and Adam's wedding, my professor and Fulbright mentor, Herr-Dr. Johnson, called me to share the good news. I was officially a Fulbright E.T.A.
Thinking back on it, so much has changed since those days. I'm still very much myself, and I would be pretentious if I said I have become a better person and all that rot. But, I will say that things have changed, and I'd like to think for the better; I know my capabilities as a person, and I find that it's pretty awesome being me. I figure now that if I can live in Germany with relative success, then making a living in the States is going to be a walk in the park.
...she says as she sees herself living in a ditch for the rest of her life. I do like parks, though.
Anyway, I've just been thinking about this for awhile now. It's odd to realize that I don't have that much more time here in Celle. And I know I'm going to be a wreck when it comes time to go back home. But, that's part of the experience, I suppose. And whoever says that this isn't part of real life or the "real world" may go right ahead and drink arsenic-laced tea, thank you.
I know I should start posting about my Osterferien, as so many things went on that I want to share with all of you, but this is more on my mind right now.
It's now been over a year since I was notified that I had received the Fulbright grant. On April 2nd, 2009, I had received a cryptic, yet obviously positive email from Fulbright about the grant authorization. I remember sitting in the Writing Center (I'm pretty sure I wasn't on duty, but was just hanging out because it was literally my second home) and showing Drew and Sheila the email, about telling my Philosophy instructor about it in the Honors Lounge, and forwarding the email to family and a professor or two for verification. On April 3rd, when I was in the car to Texarkana for Brittany and Adam's wedding, my professor and Fulbright mentor, Herr-Dr. Johnson, called me to share the good news. I was officially a Fulbright E.T.A.
Thinking back on it, so much has changed since those days. I'm still very much myself, and I would be pretentious if I said I have become a better person and all that rot. But, I will say that things have changed, and I'd like to think for the better; I know my capabilities as a person, and I find that it's pretty awesome being me. I figure now that if I can live in Germany with relative success, then making a living in the States is going to be a walk in the park.
...she says as she sees herself living in a ditch for the rest of her life. I do like parks, though.
Anyway, I've just been thinking about this for awhile now. It's odd to realize that I don't have that much more time here in Celle. And I know I'm going to be a wreck when it comes time to go back home. But, that's part of the experience, I suppose. And whoever says that this isn't part of real life or the "real world" may go right ahead and drink arsenic-laced tea, thank you.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
I'm Awesome
You know those days when you feel like you're doing something right? This would be one of those days.
These past couple of days have been a bit strange, and I haven't really been getting enough sleep for the past two weeks...or rather, I've been getting too much. Or, really, a combination of the two. You would think that this would reach a contented equilibrium somewhere in the middle there, but no. It does not. As I prepared to walk home after work, I caught sight of my reflection in the hall mirror and noticed just how run-down I looked. Pretty.
Nevertheless, yes, today was good overall. I had prepared my own lesson for both 1a and 2a, both about Ezra Jack Keats's children's book, The Snowy Day. I created the flashcards from scratch, along with the activity that the children were to work on after I read aloud the story. Honestly, it was a bit rocky with 1a; the class as a whole was unruly, and our special needs student was a bit troublesome as well. Already feeling tired and off-balance before the class, I was looking forward to my two-hour break thereafter. Still, the kids who really like me in 1a were trying to set a good example for the rest of the class, and they did rather enjoy the "treat" of me reading a story to them. Though we didn't get to the activity part, we shall continue with the theme next week.
There is a few minutes during my break that I rather look forward to, and that is talking with Susanne...or, rather, listening to her rant about the students. Susanne is one of my favorite people at the Grundschule Klein Hehlen, simply because she's spirited and, as there is simply no other adjective to describe her, peppery. Today, her rant consisted of the students of 4c, and, through her Czech accent, I notice the aggravation and, yes, concern for these students; they're not the best we have, behavior- and smarts-wise (with a few exceptions), and it drives her batty to have to be hard on them...since it's pretty much the only way to deal with the lot.
The students of 2a were their usual wonderful selves. They were very excited to see me and know that I was going to read them a story. They were very impressed that I had drawn everything from scratch, and Lila in particular had to tell me that I drew very, very well. Many had thought that I had just made copies from a website. (And, yes, that is the sound of my ego inflating.) Dylan was also his usual helpful self, as he is always proud to show off his English skills (as did Emily, who pointed out that her father spoke to her only in English).
My favorites of the day:
Me: (pointing to a flashcard) "What is this again?"
Dylan: "Why, that's a stick! And" (getting up and pointing to the others) "that's a snowsuit, and those are snow angels, and that's a snowball!"
And:
Me: (playing the game 'What's Missing?') "Well, what's missing? Was fehlt?"
Dylan: "Why, the snowsuit is missing, of course!"
Adorable German kidlets make me happy. It also helped that everyone wanted to color the pictures of their mini-books just like I did my flashcards. Oh, Kinder.
Surprisingly, 4c also went well. As I had previously done with 4a Tuesday, I read aloud the story, Winnie the Witch, with great success. I think they're finally warming up to me, or perhaps my narrative performance. It also helped that they understood the story very well...or, at least the "smart" kids who actually volunteered to translate (Susanne's words, not mine). The story itself is very comical, and I must remember to purchase a copy online...
After work, Frau Doehrmann and I had a very nice chat in her office about why I've been so tired, my improved living arrangements, and how things are going with me at the school. And, one of the best parts? 90% of the conversation was in German. As in, not-awkward German. Though this may be a small step, I'm quite proud of myself.
In fact, looking back on everything, I'm very proud of myself. Who would have thought that someone like me would be doing something like this? And be happy? This has gotten me thinking about future plans when I return Stateside. Perhaps an advanced degree in TESOL is the way to go. From my work experience from summer 2008 onward, it just seems...natural. I'm still aimless as to what I'm go to do when I'm out in the Real World (a term a detest), but I know that I have to teach in some form. TESOL, history, literature... I just need to decide.
And I think that my tenure as a Fulbright E.T.A. is helping me with this decision. Thank goodness.
Edit: Oh, I almost forgot! Special thanks to Charlsie for sending me awesome teaching supplies! I've always wanted to try out those foam animal things. Sweet!
These past couple of days have been a bit strange, and I haven't really been getting enough sleep for the past two weeks...or rather, I've been getting too much. Or, really, a combination of the two. You would think that this would reach a contented equilibrium somewhere in the middle there, but no. It does not. As I prepared to walk home after work, I caught sight of my reflection in the hall mirror and noticed just how run-down I looked. Pretty.
Nevertheless, yes, today was good overall. I had prepared my own lesson for both 1a and 2a, both about Ezra Jack Keats's children's book, The Snowy Day. I created the flashcards from scratch, along with the activity that the children were to work on after I read aloud the story. Honestly, it was a bit rocky with 1a; the class as a whole was unruly, and our special needs student was a bit troublesome as well. Already feeling tired and off-balance before the class, I was looking forward to my two-hour break thereafter. Still, the kids who really like me in 1a were trying to set a good example for the rest of the class, and they did rather enjoy the "treat" of me reading a story to them. Though we didn't get to the activity part, we shall continue with the theme next week.
There is a few minutes during my break that I rather look forward to, and that is talking with Susanne...or, rather, listening to her rant about the students. Susanne is one of my favorite people at the Grundschule Klein Hehlen, simply because she's spirited and, as there is simply no other adjective to describe her, peppery. Today, her rant consisted of the students of 4c, and, through her Czech accent, I notice the aggravation and, yes, concern for these students; they're not the best we have, behavior- and smarts-wise (with a few exceptions), and it drives her batty to have to be hard on them...since it's pretty much the only way to deal with the lot.
The students of 2a were their usual wonderful selves. They were very excited to see me and know that I was going to read them a story. They were very impressed that I had drawn everything from scratch, and Lila in particular had to tell me that I drew very, very well. Many had thought that I had just made copies from a website. (And, yes, that is the sound of my ego inflating.) Dylan was also his usual helpful self, as he is always proud to show off his English skills (as did Emily, who pointed out that her father spoke to her only in English).
My favorites of the day:
Me: (pointing to a flashcard) "What is this again?"
Dylan: "Why, that's a stick! And" (getting up and pointing to the others) "that's a snowsuit, and those are snow angels, and that's a snowball!"
And:
Me: (playing the game 'What's Missing?') "Well, what's missing? Was fehlt?"
Dylan: "Why, the snowsuit is missing, of course!"
Adorable German kidlets make me happy. It also helped that everyone wanted to color the pictures of their mini-books just like I did my flashcards. Oh, Kinder.
Surprisingly, 4c also went well. As I had previously done with 4a Tuesday, I read aloud the story, Winnie the Witch, with great success. I think they're finally warming up to me, or perhaps my narrative performance. It also helped that they understood the story very well...or, at least the "smart" kids who actually volunteered to translate (Susanne's words, not mine). The story itself is very comical, and I must remember to purchase a copy online...
After work, Frau Doehrmann and I had a very nice chat in her office about why I've been so tired, my improved living arrangements, and how things are going with me at the school. And, one of the best parts? 90% of the conversation was in German. As in, not-awkward German. Though this may be a small step, I'm quite proud of myself.
In fact, looking back on everything, I'm very proud of myself. Who would have thought that someone like me would be doing something like this? And be happy? This has gotten me thinking about future plans when I return Stateside. Perhaps an advanced degree in TESOL is the way to go. From my work experience from summer 2008 onward, it just seems...natural. I'm still aimless as to what I'm go to do when I'm out in the Real World (a term a detest), but I know that I have to teach in some form. TESOL, history, literature... I just need to decide.
And I think that my tenure as a Fulbright E.T.A. is helping me with this decision. Thank goodness.
Edit: Oh, I almost forgot! Special thanks to Charlsie for sending me awesome teaching supplies! I've always wanted to try out those foam animal things. Sweet!
Sunday, October 25, 2009
A Thanksgiving Story
A sunny, temperate day. I have cake. Life is good.
No, seriously. Cake = good life.
Let's add to this formula: (sunny day + cake / The Decemberists' The Hazards of Love) x visitors in November and December = quite a damn good life.
In other news, I will be teaching 4b on my own on Thanksgiving day. The story that has been bestowed unto me to teach the kiddies is worthy of note because it is loosely based on the concept that some people wanted to come to America so badly that they sailed on a ship and moved to rich farmland where there's absolutely no trouble at all but the Indians helped them anyway because they're so nice and not being threatened at all and everyone is one big happy family, the end.
Sometimes, grammatically incorrect sentences get the point across the best.
So, here's the school's narration:
The Story of Thanksgiving
Long, long, long ago there were some English people called Pilgrims. They wanted to live in America. So the Pilgrims took a little sailing ship. They called it Mayflower. The Pilgrims sailed and sailed and sailed over the sea. Finally they saw a harbour. It looked like a bowl. There was good farmland. They built houses and called the place Plymouth. The Pilgrims met some Indians. The Indians helped the Pilgrims. They showed the Pilgrims berries, herbs and roots. And they showed the Pilgrims a new fruit. It was called corn. In autumn the Pilgrims had pumpkins, peas, beans and cranberries. And they had cornmeal. They baked bread and pancakes. The Pilgrims celebrated a feast. They invited the Indians. Every year in November the Americans remember those Pilgrims and Indians. They eat turkey, corn, cranberries, sweet potatoes and pumpkin pie. The feast is called Thanksgiving.
(Courtesy of Bausteine - Englisch)
Here's my rendition (which is also not entirely true, as I believe there actually was a plentiful harvest):
In 1620, a group of English Separatists, who, like most other religious sects in the history of ever, sought to establish their own special, exclusive community where they could avoid "relentless" persecution from other special, exclusive communities. They wanted to go to America because it was so cool, and they were really excited by the stellar successes of Roanoke and Jamestown. Therefore, after seeking their safe haven in the Netherlands, 102 passengers sailed across the Atlantic in the Mayflower, where absolutely no one died at all, to the Plymouth area of what would be called the ever-original New England. Of course, no one starved in this fruitful area, and there were no harsh winters where such starvation could occur. At all. These English Separatists knew very well the horticulture of this new land and didn't require the voluntary assistance of a certain fellow named Squanto, a guy who kind of knew what he was doing. So, with the bountiful harvest that came within a year, the Pilgrims, for that is how those lovable Separatists came to be known, invited the Native Americans, who totally weren't suffering depleted numbers from disease and forced relocation, to their first Thanksgiving. Pumpkin pie may or may not have been served, as there are no recorded instances.
And everyone lived happily ever after. The end.
It's funnier if it's said aloud, particularly in my dry, flat tone.
Nothing much else of note, actually. I'm quietly planning for a couple of visits, which is pleasant and stressful all at once, since I'm planning out my expenses as well. This will work out, however. Awesomeness awaits.
It's that time of the year for Halloween and harvest festivals back in Alabama. It makes me a bit whimsical, a bit nostalgic, and a tiny bit homesick. But...that's how it goes, isn't it? I imagine that all of the major holidays will be like this, even perhaps a bit stronger. Things are going well here. I feel a lot better about myself here. I like feeling like there's not too much wrong with me. It makes me realize that, hey, I can be kind of awesome.
Can a location really make one feel that? Can an experience that doesn't really have anything to do with the person involved, but rather with the title of Fulbright Grantee, with the job that the person is assigned, make one feel that? Is the person interesting, or is all the glory designated to the "prestige" that goes along with the type of job this is? Somehow, I believe both are intertwined. The person who is awarded something like this grant either is interesting enough to attain it or becomes interesting through the process of self-realization and the knowledge of what exactly one can endure. This is not something that is just handed to someone. I worked for this grant. But, is my "interestingness" only so because I worked for this? Or because I'm naturally an interesting person?
I love these contemplations. They give meaning to my life. And, it's not just about me, either. It's about anyone who goes through this sort of process, anyone who pushes oneself to do something that terrifies him or her. It's one of the most awesome things that one can muse about. Can one truly find an answer? Probably not. But, that's okay. Maybe it's not meant to be solved.
No, seriously. Cake = good life.
Let's add to this formula: (sunny day + cake / The Decemberists' The Hazards of Love) x visitors in November and December = quite a damn good life.
In other news, I will be teaching 4b on my own on Thanksgiving day. The story that has been bestowed unto me to teach the kiddies is worthy of note because it is loosely based on the concept that some people wanted to come to America so badly that they sailed on a ship and moved to rich farmland where there's absolutely no trouble at all but the Indians helped them anyway because they're so nice and not being threatened at all and everyone is one big happy family, the end.
Sometimes, grammatically incorrect sentences get the point across the best.
So, here's the school's narration:
The Story of Thanksgiving
Long, long, long ago there were some English people called Pilgrims. They wanted to live in America. So the Pilgrims took a little sailing ship. They called it Mayflower. The Pilgrims sailed and sailed and sailed over the sea. Finally they saw a harbour. It looked like a bowl. There was good farmland. They built houses and called the place Plymouth. The Pilgrims met some Indians. The Indians helped the Pilgrims. They showed the Pilgrims berries, herbs and roots. And they showed the Pilgrims a new fruit. It was called corn. In autumn the Pilgrims had pumpkins, peas, beans and cranberries. And they had cornmeal. They baked bread and pancakes. The Pilgrims celebrated a feast. They invited the Indians. Every year in November the Americans remember those Pilgrims and Indians. They eat turkey, corn, cranberries, sweet potatoes and pumpkin pie. The feast is called Thanksgiving.
(Courtesy of Bausteine - Englisch)
Here's my rendition (which is also not entirely true, as I believe there actually was a plentiful harvest):
In 1620, a group of English Separatists, who, like most other religious sects in the history of ever, sought to establish their own special, exclusive community where they could avoid "relentless" persecution from other special, exclusive communities. They wanted to go to America because it was so cool, and they were really excited by the stellar successes of Roanoke and Jamestown. Therefore, after seeking their safe haven in the Netherlands, 102 passengers sailed across the Atlantic in the Mayflower, where absolutely no one died at all, to the Plymouth area of what would be called the ever-original New England. Of course, no one starved in this fruitful area, and there were no harsh winters where such starvation could occur. At all. These English Separatists knew very well the horticulture of this new land and didn't require the voluntary assistance of a certain fellow named Squanto, a guy who kind of knew what he was doing. So, with the bountiful harvest that came within a year, the Pilgrims, for that is how those lovable Separatists came to be known, invited the Native Americans, who totally weren't suffering depleted numbers from disease and forced relocation, to their first Thanksgiving. Pumpkin pie may or may not have been served, as there are no recorded instances.
And everyone lived happily ever after. The end.
It's funnier if it's said aloud, particularly in my dry, flat tone.
Nothing much else of note, actually. I'm quietly planning for a couple of visits, which is pleasant and stressful all at once, since I'm planning out my expenses as well. This will work out, however. Awesomeness awaits.
It's that time of the year for Halloween and harvest festivals back in Alabama. It makes me a bit whimsical, a bit nostalgic, and a tiny bit homesick. But...that's how it goes, isn't it? I imagine that all of the major holidays will be like this, even perhaps a bit stronger. Things are going well here. I feel a lot better about myself here. I like feeling like there's not too much wrong with me. It makes me realize that, hey, I can be kind of awesome.
Can a location really make one feel that? Can an experience that doesn't really have anything to do with the person involved, but rather with the title of Fulbright Grantee, with the job that the person is assigned, make one feel that? Is the person interesting, or is all the glory designated to the "prestige" that goes along with the type of job this is? Somehow, I believe both are intertwined. The person who is awarded something like this grant either is interesting enough to attain it or becomes interesting through the process of self-realization and the knowledge of what exactly one can endure. This is not something that is just handed to someone. I worked for this grant. But, is my "interestingness" only so because I worked for this? Or because I'm naturally an interesting person?
I love these contemplations. They give meaning to my life. And, it's not just about me, either. It's about anyone who goes through this sort of process, anyone who pushes oneself to do something that terrifies him or her. It's one of the most awesome things that one can muse about. Can one truly find an answer? Probably not. But, that's okay. Maybe it's not meant to be solved.
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Snapping Out of It
So, I deleted the last post because, as a friend helped me realize, personal, emotional outbursts don't really belong in a blog such as this one. This blog is intended to provide a Jen-sized lens through which to view my stay in Germany and not to serve as a medium for me to post typical, inside-my-head emotions. So, yes. Alles klar.
Yesterday was rather enjoyable. As I am prone to do on Saturday mornings and early afternoons, I strolled about the Altstadt, this time with the intent to purchase (cheap) Christmas gifts for family. And, my mission was successfully completed. (Hey, see what I did there? I used passive voice. Why is this important? Because I don't have to worry about using it anymore. Put that in your juice box and suck it, college history and literature essays.) However, while on my search for Christmas gift goodness, I came across these following jewels:
Near the Altes Rathaus (which is also tourist information), I spotted two slightly over middle-aged men exiting the building, glancing over a map of the Altstadt. I overheard their conversation and noticed their heavily English accent. So, I decided to do something completely random (for me):
Me: "Englisch?"
Men: "Uhh...yeah."
Me: "No, this is cool! It's always nice to hear English around here."
Men: "Oh, are you...English?"
Me: "American. Are you tourists?"
Men: (quick glance at map) "Uh, no."
(some more pleasantries, exchanges of background info, and wary glances from the men)
Me: "By the way, sorry about randomly butting into your conversation." (They were very disoriented.)
Men: "Not at all. We thought you were a German wanting to practice English."
It turns out that these two Englishmen were members of the base that is situated near/in Celle and that one of the men was new here (hence, the map). Though I think I scared them a bit, it was a good experience for me. Sometimes I do get this impulse to butt into a conversation with a complete stranger, and usually it turns out well. Though, most people give me a look that implies that they are very startled that a very short, very...chipper young woman, someone who totally does not resemble the standard con artist that they have been warned about, attempts to converse with them.
Other highlights of the afternoon include the local (English) street musician singing "Ring of Fire" near Rossmanns, some flute players playing "Chiquitita," spying an elderly gentleman who resembled a Country Western Santa Claus, and having hot chocolate with Maryle during a nasty bout of weather.
Today was also a bit adventurous, for it is Meerit's eighth birthday. I am currently in the process of knitting her a soft, red scarf, but, staying true to my procrastinating form, it's...unfinished. Andrea invited me to "coffee" at 15:00, which, of course, means coffee, tea, three different kinds of cakes, and cupcakes. Of course. I met Andrea's mother, Lina, and Tjark's parents. Meerit's godmother and Andrea's brother also arrived, albeit late. So, we set about eating multiple portions of the diabetes-inducing feast, with Lina scolding me for not finishing the third piece of cake that had been forcibly placed before me. Overall, though, it was another enjoyable experience, despite the fact that I continuously blunder through my German and wonder why Fulbright saw fit to give me this job. However, it is a jovial wonder, so it's okay.
To once again clear my head, I walked through the field this morning and evening. It's my own little slog of utopia, that field, at least right now. Even though I'm alone here, even though I've had to face some personal demons this past week...I still feel very much at peace in this little strip of land in Germany. No matter how down on myself I get while here, no matter how many personal flaws I will come to realize and confront, I know that when I take my afternoon stroll through the field, I can feel that, somehow, everything will be all right. Everything will, for better or for worse, resolve itself...one way or the other, it will work out.
Take a deep breath. Ready? Steady? Go!
Yesterday was rather enjoyable. As I am prone to do on Saturday mornings and early afternoons, I strolled about the Altstadt, this time with the intent to purchase (cheap) Christmas gifts for family. And, my mission was successfully completed. (Hey, see what I did there? I used passive voice. Why is this important? Because I don't have to worry about using it anymore. Put that in your juice box and suck it, college history and literature essays.) However, while on my search for Christmas gift goodness, I came across these following jewels:
Near the Altes Rathaus (which is also tourist information), I spotted two slightly over middle-aged men exiting the building, glancing over a map of the Altstadt. I overheard their conversation and noticed their heavily English accent. So, I decided to do something completely random (for me):
Me: "Englisch?"
Men: "Uhh...yeah."
Me: "No, this is cool! It's always nice to hear English around here."
Men: "Oh, are you...English?"
Me: "American. Are you tourists?"
Men: (quick glance at map) "Uh, no."
(some more pleasantries, exchanges of background info, and wary glances from the men)
Me: "By the way, sorry about randomly butting into your conversation." (They were very disoriented.)
Men: "Not at all. We thought you were a German wanting to practice English."
It turns out that these two Englishmen were members of the base that is situated near/in Celle and that one of the men was new here (hence, the map). Though I think I scared them a bit, it was a good experience for me. Sometimes I do get this impulse to butt into a conversation with a complete stranger, and usually it turns out well. Though, most people give me a look that implies that they are very startled that a very short, very...chipper young woman, someone who totally does not resemble the standard con artist that they have been warned about, attempts to converse with them.
Other highlights of the afternoon include the local (English) street musician singing "Ring of Fire" near Rossmanns, some flute players playing "Chiquitita," spying an elderly gentleman who resembled a Country Western Santa Claus, and having hot chocolate with Maryle during a nasty bout of weather.
Today was also a bit adventurous, for it is Meerit's eighth birthday. I am currently in the process of knitting her a soft, red scarf, but, staying true to my procrastinating form, it's...unfinished. Andrea invited me to "coffee" at 15:00, which, of course, means coffee, tea, three different kinds of cakes, and cupcakes. Of course. I met Andrea's mother, Lina, and Tjark's parents. Meerit's godmother and Andrea's brother also arrived, albeit late. So, we set about eating multiple portions of the diabetes-inducing feast, with Lina scolding me for not finishing the third piece of cake that had been forcibly placed before me. Overall, though, it was another enjoyable experience, despite the fact that I continuously blunder through my German and wonder why Fulbright saw fit to give me this job. However, it is a jovial wonder, so it's okay.
To once again clear my head, I walked through the field this morning and evening. It's my own little slog of utopia, that field, at least right now. Even though I'm alone here, even though I've had to face some personal demons this past week...I still feel very much at peace in this little strip of land in Germany. No matter how down on myself I get while here, no matter how many personal flaws I will come to realize and confront, I know that when I take my afternoon stroll through the field, I can feel that, somehow, everything will be all right. Everything will, for better or for worse, resolve itself...one way or the other, it will work out.
Take a deep breath. Ready? Steady? Go!
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Not Feeling So Hot
Literally. It gets cold in the flat during the day. During the night, though, it's comfortable.
But, I also mean the title figuratively, in the fact that I'm feeling the standard change-of-weather illness coming on and the fact that I'm kind of gloomy. I do, however, think it's just a general "blegh" feeling that will last for perhaps a couple of days and then carry on. Also, generally miserable weather tends to get me down. Coffee and tea, those staples of my diet, will save the day.
Nothing too terribly interesting to report. I'm slowly learning how to ride a bicycle. My attempts at maintaining balance goes a little something like this:
(straddle, straddle, kickoff, womp)
Try again.
(straddle, straddle, straddle, kickoff...womp)
Again...
(straddle.straddle.straddle, kicko--ALMOST...womp)
But, I'm very slowly improving. As my great and patient teacher, Maryle, says: baby steps. After I conquer the (kid's) bike, I will name it. I'm currently musing over potential names as I type, but the right one will come when (yes, when) the time is right.
I now have European clothing. This merits honorable mention because I know exactly how to wash said clothing. German washing machines are a little different than their American counterparts in the fact that certain pieces of clothing require a certain temperature. This isn't so different, but the directions of the clothing tags are, since it tells you the temperature, rather than saying "machine wash cold." Random fact.
Another random fact: Germans have no concept of personal space. This means that, while in line at the grocery store, they will get up right next to you and start piling their groceries even when you yourself are not finished. This means that, while waiting in line anywhere, they will cut in front of you. This also means that, when walking, a motorist will inch and almost hit you when you are crossing the street. And, at the risk of sounding too redundant while making my point, it also means that your coworkers will talk to you a mere five inches from your face.
I do love cultural differences. (I actually do.)
But, I also mean the title figuratively, in the fact that I'm feeling the standard change-of-weather illness coming on and the fact that I'm kind of gloomy. I do, however, think it's just a general "blegh" feeling that will last for perhaps a couple of days and then carry on. Also, generally miserable weather tends to get me down. Coffee and tea, those staples of my diet, will save the day.
Nothing too terribly interesting to report. I'm slowly learning how to ride a bicycle. My attempts at maintaining balance goes a little something like this:
(straddle, straddle, kickoff, womp)
Try again.
(straddle, straddle, straddle, kickoff...womp)
Again...
(straddle.straddle.straddle, kicko--ALMOST...womp)
But, I'm very slowly improving. As my great and patient teacher, Maryle, says: baby steps. After I conquer the (kid's) bike, I will name it. I'm currently musing over potential names as I type, but the right one will come when (yes, when) the time is right.
* * *
I now have European clothing. This merits honorable mention because I know exactly how to wash said clothing. German washing machines are a little different than their American counterparts in the fact that certain pieces of clothing require a certain temperature. This isn't so different, but the directions of the clothing tags are, since it tells you the temperature, rather than saying "machine wash cold." Random fact.
Another random fact: Germans have no concept of personal space. This means that, while in line at the grocery store, they will get up right next to you and start piling their groceries even when you yourself are not finished. This means that, while waiting in line anywhere, they will cut in front of you. This also means that, when walking, a motorist will inch and almost hit you when you are crossing the street. And, at the risk of sounding too redundant while making my point, it also means that your coworkers will talk to you a mere five inches from your face.
I do love cultural differences. (I actually do.)
* * *
Upon boarding the bus from the Altstadt yesterday, it was drizzling outside. A man with a rainbow umbrella, just a regularly-dressed man with a rainbow umbrella, approached a group of older men dressed in dark, drab business suits and sporting dark, drab umbrellas. It made me smile.
Also, today I went on my usual walk in order to stretch my legs and get some fresh air. I went a little earlier than usual, sensing that the rain would return (which it did, much to my chagrin). On my walk, I saw a middle-aged woman walking a rather elderly dog, its slow gait becoming a little quicker every now and then when a new, interesting scent was discovered. The dog started pulling at the leash when it saw me, and, as is the norm with me, I smiled. For the first time in my stay in Celle, a pedestrian smiled back and started talking to me, allowing me to pet the dog and expressing surprise that the dog warmed up to me immediately. After a few exchanges of pleasantries, I learned that the woman (Ilse? Inge?) lived on Witzlebenstrasse, the dog's name is Bella, and the latter is thirteen years old. Then, we parted ways, she back to her apartment with Bella, and I with an extra spring in my step...despite the oncoming drizzle.
Yes, this is trivial information and probably does not appear to be fascinating blog fodder. But, the point here is that I had a very pleasant conversation with a complete stranger in German, which comes as a big surprise for someone who had to this point encountered mistrustful glances from others while walking. It gives one hope, I guess.
That's pretty much all I've got, today. Oh, and did I tell you that my parents are visiting me in November? They totally are. It will be so interesting to see if I've changed and to see what they think of Celle.
Also, today I went on my usual walk in order to stretch my legs and get some fresh air. I went a little earlier than usual, sensing that the rain would return (which it did, much to my chagrin). On my walk, I saw a middle-aged woman walking a rather elderly dog, its slow gait becoming a little quicker every now and then when a new, interesting scent was discovered. The dog started pulling at the leash when it saw me, and, as is the norm with me, I smiled. For the first time in my stay in Celle, a pedestrian smiled back and started talking to me, allowing me to pet the dog and expressing surprise that the dog warmed up to me immediately. After a few exchanges of pleasantries, I learned that the woman (Ilse? Inge?) lived on Witzlebenstrasse, the dog's name is Bella, and the latter is thirteen years old. Then, we parted ways, she back to her apartment with Bella, and I with an extra spring in my step...despite the oncoming drizzle.
Yes, this is trivial information and probably does not appear to be fascinating blog fodder. But, the point here is that I had a very pleasant conversation with a complete stranger in German, which comes as a big surprise for someone who had to this point encountered mistrustful glances from others while walking. It gives one hope, I guess.
That's pretty much all I've got, today. Oh, and did I tell you that my parents are visiting me in November? They totally are. It will be so interesting to see if I've changed and to see what they think of Celle.
"What, my dear Lady Disdain! are you yet living?"
(Much Ado About Nothing, I.i.118)
(Much Ado About Nothing, I.i.118)
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Home and...Home
It's still bittersweet, thinking of people back in Alabama. But, I suppose it's more a distant pang now, more of one of those random sharp pains in the side that hurts the most when one takes a deep breath. One never expects it, and it's over a moment later, but it always, always takes one by surprise. Friends advise me to get over it and to take advantage of being in Europe to travel and make new friends (I have even been ordered, by multiple people, to fall in love with and marry a German man, but I will not succumb to the pressure. Sorry.). Perhaps I deserve to be belittled, but I personally believe that a bit of homesickness every now and then is a positive thing. It makes me realize that I do care about people, even though I fully realize that close friendships rarely last, at least in my life.
Anyway, that's my spiel on that.
I believe my clothes are becoming loose. This may not be a good thing.
Anyway Part II, I taught today. It was neat. Well, okay, I didn't lead a class, but I did introduce the articles of clothing and play a game with the kiddies in 3a. It was a lot of fun. The game, of course, is quite simple: the leader (in this case, me) points to the pictures of clothing and states what they are, and the class repeats what she says. The leader is supposed to misspeak sometimes, and the students who repeat the wrong label must sit down. This continues until one person is standing. And, believe me, it worked. Lots of laughter, from both students and teachers.
Afterward, upon my return to the flat, I began to muse on my abilities as a teacher. I have known for awhile that I want to teach, but I have been determined to acquire the ever-godly Ph.D. in order to teach upper level college courses. I have always realized the importance of teaching grade school, particularly primary school, but I suppose I have also looked down on teaching those levels, since college seemed more prestigious and intellectually stimulating. I have associated primary school teachers with "motherly," which, for some reason, has received an admittedly negative stigma in society. I'm still solid in my desire to go to graduate school, but working with these children for three weeks has opened my eyes to how...adept these teachers are at their job and how awesome it is to mold these children's education. Primary school teachers deserve a lot more respect than credited.
Oh, I was interviewed yesterday. The local newspaper is going to publish an article on the Ganztagschule, and the reporter wanted to talk to me because I'm still determined to host an English reading hour one afternoon per week. I'm surprised at just how excited people are about my proposal.
Perhaps things are going right. Maybe I'm doing a good thing. I may just be as awesome as I joke I am.
Anyway, that's my spiel on that.
I believe my clothes are becoming loose. This may not be a good thing.
Anyway Part II, I taught today. It was neat. Well, okay, I didn't lead a class, but I did introduce the articles of clothing and play a game with the kiddies in 3a. It was a lot of fun. The game, of course, is quite simple: the leader (in this case, me) points to the pictures of clothing and states what they are, and the class repeats what she says. The leader is supposed to misspeak sometimes, and the students who repeat the wrong label must sit down. This continues until one person is standing. And, believe me, it worked. Lots of laughter, from both students and teachers.
Afterward, upon my return to the flat, I began to muse on my abilities as a teacher. I have known for awhile that I want to teach, but I have been determined to acquire the ever-godly Ph.D. in order to teach upper level college courses. I have always realized the importance of teaching grade school, particularly primary school, but I suppose I have also looked down on teaching those levels, since college seemed more prestigious and intellectually stimulating. I have associated primary school teachers with "motherly," which, for some reason, has received an admittedly negative stigma in society. I'm still solid in my desire to go to graduate school, but working with these children for three weeks has opened my eyes to how...adept these teachers are at their job and how awesome it is to mold these children's education. Primary school teachers deserve a lot more respect than credited.
Oh, I was interviewed yesterday. The local newspaper is going to publish an article on the Ganztagschule, and the reporter wanted to talk to me because I'm still determined to host an English reading hour one afternoon per week. I'm surprised at just how excited people are about my proposal.
Perhaps things are going right. Maybe I'm doing a good thing. I may just be as awesome as I joke I am.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Lazin' About on a Sunday Afternoon...
...and loving it, actually.
Back in Alabama, I hated being lazy on the weekend, despite the fact that I was most of the time. I suppose that, during the college semester, my weekends were devoted entirely to my studies...and, particularly during that last semester, weekends were draining. This past summer also saw me loathing laziness on the weekends, as the standard ennui of being a lethargic young adult kept growing on me like a...well, like a rather lethargic tumor. Of course, that was also because I was unemployed, had a degree, and spent my time with friends almost constantly because I knew I wouldn't be able to for ten months (which was nice). But, now that I have a job that requires me running after German kiddies--and in a language I hardly know, at that--, I find that being lazy on a Sunday is very pleasant. It's also an ample opportunity to drink far too much coffee and tea.
Let's travel into one of my digressions that was triggered because of my mention of tea. Every Saturday (and apparently every Wednesday), the Altstadt hosts a fresh market in the morning and early afternoon. This causes me much happiness, as one can purchase practically everything one needs for delicious sustenance for the week: cheese, meat, rolls, honey, jam, and...TEA. Like, loose tea. Like, leaves that have been dried from a home-grown plant tea. There's this one stand at the fresh market, Dudel Wuerzt, that sells spices and bags of tea at around 3.50 euros a pop, sometimes more expensive. Being the total tea dork that I am, I purchased a bag of peppermint and apple tea, respectively. I've never seen tea leaves look that fresh, but this is because I'm usually cheap and buy the tea bags (i.e., sawdust) or the Harney & Sons loose tea. Anyway, I tried the peppermint tea upon my return home after a jaunt in the Franzoesischer Garten, and...yum. This makes me happy.
Needless to say, these past two weekends have been rather nice, overall. Last Saturday brought about the visit of one Abby, a friend I had made at orientation. She lives in Wolfsburg, a new city a bit south from here. I was super-excited that she made a trip to Celle, and we had much fun stomping around the Altstadt, visiting the castle (der Schloss) and eating at an "American" restaurant, the Grand Canyon. Good schnitzel and beer there, ironically enough. This Friday, the other teaching assistant, Maryle, and I went a-shopping for shoes that proved unsuccessful, yet quite fun. Also, lunch at a particular Indian restaurant is only about 6.00 euros on Fridays.
Why am I mentioning the food? Oh, right. Because they're the only meals I've had that are nice and hot. I take care of myself so well. (I do, actually.)
It's still a bit surreal to be here and to be getting into a steady routine. To actually start having a "career" and a "real life" (though, I'm sure that both can and will be debated). To start wondering why in the world I didn't travel more in North America, especially since I have friends in very interesting parts of the world, like Montreal, Los Angeles, and Tampa. We'll see what I can do when I return... Right now, I need to see where I will go in the magical land of Germany and the rest of Europe.
One step at a time. Ready? Steady? Go!
Back in Alabama, I hated being lazy on the weekend, despite the fact that I was most of the time. I suppose that, during the college semester, my weekends were devoted entirely to my studies...and, particularly during that last semester, weekends were draining. This past summer also saw me loathing laziness on the weekends, as the standard ennui of being a lethargic young adult kept growing on me like a...well, like a rather lethargic tumor. Of course, that was also because I was unemployed, had a degree, and spent my time with friends almost constantly because I knew I wouldn't be able to for ten months (which was nice). But, now that I have a job that requires me running after German kiddies--and in a language I hardly know, at that--, I find that being lazy on a Sunday is very pleasant. It's also an ample opportunity to drink far too much coffee and tea.
Let's travel into one of my digressions that was triggered because of my mention of tea. Every Saturday (and apparently every Wednesday), the Altstadt hosts a fresh market in the morning and early afternoon. This causes me much happiness, as one can purchase practically everything one needs for delicious sustenance for the week: cheese, meat, rolls, honey, jam, and...TEA. Like, loose tea. Like, leaves that have been dried from a home-grown plant tea. There's this one stand at the fresh market, Dudel Wuerzt, that sells spices and bags of tea at around 3.50 euros a pop, sometimes more expensive. Being the total tea dork that I am, I purchased a bag of peppermint and apple tea, respectively. I've never seen tea leaves look that fresh, but this is because I'm usually cheap and buy the tea bags (i.e., sawdust) or the Harney & Sons loose tea. Anyway, I tried the peppermint tea upon my return home after a jaunt in the Franzoesischer Garten, and...yum. This makes me happy.
Needless to say, these past two weekends have been rather nice, overall. Last Saturday brought about the visit of one Abby, a friend I had made at orientation. She lives in Wolfsburg, a new city a bit south from here. I was super-excited that she made a trip to Celle, and we had much fun stomping around the Altstadt, visiting the castle (der Schloss) and eating at an "American" restaurant, the Grand Canyon. Good schnitzel and beer there, ironically enough. This Friday, the other teaching assistant, Maryle, and I went a-shopping for shoes that proved unsuccessful, yet quite fun. Also, lunch at a particular Indian restaurant is only about 6.00 euros on Fridays.
Why am I mentioning the food? Oh, right. Because they're the only meals I've had that are nice and hot. I take care of myself so well. (I do, actually.)
It's still a bit surreal to be here and to be getting into a steady routine. To actually start having a "career" and a "real life" (though, I'm sure that both can and will be debated). To start wondering why in the world I didn't travel more in North America, especially since I have friends in very interesting parts of the world, like Montreal, Los Angeles, and Tampa. We'll see what I can do when I return... Right now, I need to see where I will go in the magical land of Germany and the rest of Europe.
One step at a time. Ready? Steady? Go!
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Reflection.
YOU GUYS.
I, like, leave for Germany and stuff tomorrow. Color me a little surprised.
Other than the fact that I have finally come to the realization that I do not know what I'm doing (one whole day prior to departure), things seem to be coming together. Wait, scratch that last part of the sentence. I'm at that point of pre-starting-a-whole-new-life where I do feel incredibly lonely, vulnerable, and sad, particularly when there are so many people whom I will miss. This is, naturally, a normal process, and I do feel a little relieved that I am feeling this. However, I'm a tad mystified at what is going to change in these next ten months. It seemed like only yesterday that I was hanging out at the Writing Center (my last, and best, place of employment), cutting up with my fellow snarkilicious coworkers, only worrying about a paper in Comparative Slavery or slide identification in Art History.
Now, with just one day before I leave the country, things seem a bit...heavier. A little part of me wants to stay here in Huntsville. Though I know I need to leave, that this will be an experience of a frickin' lifetime, I remain in a rather confused state of what really matters. This is, admittedly, the standard young adult identity crisis, and it shall pass. Awesomeness awaits, though awesomeness is also here at home--with my family, my friends, and the identity that I have created for myself.
Now, it's time to add on to this identity that is Jennifer Lynn Staton, P.I. (Professional Incense...flowery). Blech, that's so cheesy. Let's just get it out that I'm terrified as hell. Plain and simple.
And that's okay. Okay? Okay.
This evening will be devoted to finishing the packing process (which, being true to form, I've left to the very last minute) and hanging out with the 'rents. Tomorrow morning, Mum, Dad, and Kim will ride with me to the Nashville airport. Friday afternoon, I shall (hopefully...) be situated in my hotel room in Koeln. I believe I will have Internet access. If not, I'll kick a puppy.
So, to all who have been a part of my life, particularly during these tense summer months: Thaaaanks. You guys are awesome-sauce.
Tomorrow, I fly.
I, like, leave for Germany and stuff tomorrow. Color me a little surprised.
Other than the fact that I have finally come to the realization that I do not know what I'm doing (one whole day prior to departure), things seem to be coming together. Wait, scratch that last part of the sentence. I'm at that point of pre-starting-a-whole-new-life where I do feel incredibly lonely, vulnerable, and sad, particularly when there are so many people whom I will miss. This is, naturally, a normal process, and I do feel a little relieved that I am feeling this. However, I'm a tad mystified at what is going to change in these next ten months. It seemed like only yesterday that I was hanging out at the Writing Center (my last, and best, place of employment), cutting up with my fellow snarkilicious coworkers, only worrying about a paper in Comparative Slavery or slide identification in Art History.
Now, with just one day before I leave the country, things seem a bit...heavier. A little part of me wants to stay here in Huntsville. Though I know I need to leave, that this will be an experience of a frickin' lifetime, I remain in a rather confused state of what really matters. This is, admittedly, the standard young adult identity crisis, and it shall pass. Awesomeness awaits, though awesomeness is also here at home--with my family, my friends, and the identity that I have created for myself.
Now, it's time to add on to this identity that is Jennifer Lynn Staton, P.I. (Professional Incense...flowery). Blech, that's so cheesy. Let's just get it out that I'm terrified as hell. Plain and simple.
And that's okay. Okay? Okay.
This evening will be devoted to finishing the packing process (which, being true to form, I've left to the very last minute) and hanging out with the 'rents. Tomorrow morning, Mum, Dad, and Kim will ride with me to the Nashville airport. Friday afternoon, I shall (hopefully...) be situated in my hotel room in Koeln. I believe I will have Internet access. If not, I'll kick a puppy.
So, to all who have been a part of my life, particularly during these tense summer months: Thaaaanks. You guys are awesome-sauce.
Tomorrow, I fly.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
The Post in which There are Thoughts
Huh. I guess I should start packing.
Short, tiny women can carry hiking backpacks, right? Well, we'll find out.
So, I'm sitting at my mother's rather pink laptop this morning, staring at the dog lazing in the armchair by the window rather than thinking of anything useful to say. But, seeing as I don't have too many days of looking at the dog and using my mother's laptop in the mornings, I suppose it is something useful for the purposes of this blog.
The weather in North Alabama has been quite cool for August, so the past few days have been enjoyable, at least temperature-wise. The situation in the house is a bit tense, of course--no one in my immediate family has ever done something like this before. Like what? Why, moving out of the country where the locals don't speak no English (actually, they do) to teach those local yokels how to do so. So, quite understandably, everyone is stressed out, trying to hide the nerves so a verbal sparring doesn't bubble above the surface before I leave. Again, we'll see if this is successful. I do hope it is.
One week, two days before departure.
Short, tiny women can carry hiking backpacks, right? Well, we'll find out.
So, I'm sitting at my mother's rather pink laptop this morning, staring at the dog lazing in the armchair by the window rather than thinking of anything useful to say. But, seeing as I don't have too many days of looking at the dog and using my mother's laptop in the mornings, I suppose it is something useful for the purposes of this blog.
The weather in North Alabama has been quite cool for August, so the past few days have been enjoyable, at least temperature-wise. The situation in the house is a bit tense, of course--no one in my immediate family has ever done something like this before. Like what? Why, moving out of the country where the locals don't speak no English (actually, they do) to teach those local yokels how to do so. So, quite understandably, everyone is stressed out, trying to hide the nerves so a verbal sparring doesn't bubble above the surface before I leave. Again, we'll see if this is successful. I do hope it is.
One week, two days before departure.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
The Post in Which I Feel Bad About Not Posting
Eh-heh.
I really should be posting a whole lot more right now. Lots o' stuff going down, all related to Fulbright goodness.
I'll be flying into that good ol' (and I do mean old, as in ancient, as in holy shit, that's been around for awhile now) Koeln starting the 3rd of September. Eep. This is where I'm beginning to wonder if the good people at the Fulbright Commission are not utterly insane for thinking I'm not going to screw all of this up. I'll be taking a long weekend in this city and then heading off to Altenberg, near Odenthal, for the Big and Important orientation for all Fulbright teaching assistants. This, I am not too worried about; I'm already fairly comfortable doing teaching assistant things, though on the much smaller scale of tutor/underpaid serf. I will be overwhelmed--especially with all the German that's going to be hurled through the air--, but I'm hoping that this prior experience will help with potential lesson planning and group work that's sure to pop up.
After orientation (which lasts a glorious three days), I will finally be off to my new home: Celle. This is what I'm looking forward to the most. I'm actually quite nervous about the first part of my trip, but making it to Celle will be most welcome. I have already semi-established contacts in the city--one, whom I shall dub Kat, works at Klein Hehlen, the Grundschule at which I will be assisting. I shall be provided a furnished room at one of Kat's colleague's lodgings, even though later I will need to search for a more permanent living arrangement. Then, I shall conquer the world. Or, at least Celle. ...Or, at least my semi-crippling insecurities.
So, now, with a little less than two and a half weeks until G-day, I'm taking in all that I'm going to miss: family, friends, pets, places, things. This summer, on the whole, hasn't been great for me, personally. Since this is a blog about my travels and general awesomeness, I won't go into anything here. But, I do think, despite just how much I'm going to miss everyone and everything, this is the opportunity to actually establish a more concrete understanding of who I am. Perhaps I'll make myself proud. Perhaps I won't. Maybe I'll fulfill my loved ones' expectations. I probably will. I've got to get out there and at least try, dammit.
When I was traveling through Germany last year, I told my instructor, Dr. J., that I had to return. And, I'm doing just that.
I really should be posting a whole lot more right now. Lots o' stuff going down, all related to Fulbright goodness.
I'll be flying into that good ol' (and I do mean old, as in ancient, as in holy shit, that's been around for awhile now) Koeln starting the 3rd of September. Eep. This is where I'm beginning to wonder if the good people at the Fulbright Commission are not utterly insane for thinking I'm not going to screw all of this up. I'll be taking a long weekend in this city and then heading off to Altenberg, near Odenthal, for the Big and Important orientation for all Fulbright teaching assistants. This, I am not too worried about; I'm already fairly comfortable doing teaching assistant things, though on the much smaller scale of tutor/underpaid serf. I will be overwhelmed--especially with all the German that's going to be hurled through the air--, but I'm hoping that this prior experience will help with potential lesson planning and group work that's sure to pop up.
After orientation (which lasts a glorious three days), I will finally be off to my new home: Celle. This is what I'm looking forward to the most. I'm actually quite nervous about the first part of my trip, but making it to Celle will be most welcome. I have already semi-established contacts in the city--one, whom I shall dub Kat, works at Klein Hehlen, the Grundschule at which I will be assisting. I shall be provided a furnished room at one of Kat's colleague's lodgings, even though later I will need to search for a more permanent living arrangement. Then, I shall conquer the world. Or, at least Celle. ...Or, at least my semi-crippling insecurities.
So, now, with a little less than two and a half weeks until G-day, I'm taking in all that I'm going to miss: family, friends, pets, places, things. This summer, on the whole, hasn't been great for me, personally. Since this is a blog about my travels and general awesomeness, I won't go into anything here. But, I do think, despite just how much I'm going to miss everyone and everything, this is the opportunity to actually establish a more concrete understanding of who I am. Perhaps I'll make myself proud. Perhaps I won't. Maybe I'll fulfill my loved ones' expectations. I probably will. I've got to get out there and at least try, dammit.
When I was traveling through Germany last year, I told my instructor, Dr. J., that I had to return. And, I'm doing just that.
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