It's Spring in Freiburg :)

Nevertheless this blog begins in the snow.

Having not once considered the chance of skiing this year after the Alps, Wednesday's spontaneous excursion came as a spirit-lifting and pleasant surprise. My new roommate, Tobias, Hip-Hop/Rap enthusiast with markedly more knowledge of the underground than I, his girlfriend and a contingent of friends drove to Feldberg, the highest peak in the Black Forest, for some gravity defying action. In the least, some rolling hills. Toby and I went ahead so I could rent my skis and not hold the others up. As I filled out my rental form and asked the counter girl if she could more or less guess my weight in silly metric numbers, she jumped happily at the chance to speak English, properly inferring from my lack of metric-weighing abilities that I was American. She inaccurately presumed that Toby was also American. Though, just as she had, he was more than happy to play along in English. She was a happy English speaking German. She was so enthused, as a matter of fact, that as I sat in line waiting to try on my boots, she called me back to the counter. She then repeated the first part of our conversation, the part we had in German, in English. "You can go back to your seat now. I just wanted to say that" she added in German, with a large smile and a larger sense of humor.

Though they were rentals, my skis and boots provided some of the smoothest riding I feel I've had in a while. They freshly waxed my skis before we hit the slopes. That's gotta help: a new coat five minutes before the first run. Dreamy.

Skiing was a fantastic way to run into the Spring. The snow conditions were impressive and the sun never took a break. I even got a little bit of sunburn on the tip of my nose. I don't have many pictures at the moment, but look at that beautiful blue sky.

Toby. He belongs with the Sunday River Crew. Lunch Break. I had forgotten to bring one, but these wonderful newly met friends had made one for me. :)

Word of the day: share. Sharing, as pictured above, is lovely. Some German variations: teilen (share), mitbenutzen (share, lit. to use with), teilhaben (to have a part, to participate, partake, share). Anything can be shared: a smile, a story, a memory, a sandwich, your time, a heartache. Somethings have to be shared, like hugs. Things that are never shared are rarely better that way. Keep a few things for yourself sure, but most secrets and fantasies are only fun when you share them. Plus, everything loses life and energy when it just sits in your head. Things, thoughts included, have got to move.

One evening this week I found myself, to no surprise, in the apartment above, where the most pulchritudinous feline in our building, if i may say, was feeling a little down on account of the way too stressful German University testing system. In need of a new perspective on a play, we transformed the kitchen into a small theatre/reading hall and read the piece from start to finish. It reminded me a bit of Harry Potter mornings with Henry: bookstore at midnight to get our books, then Henry's living floor until we couldn't keep our eyes open (that is, taking turns reading outloud to each other. See, that memory is better shared than kept a secret. yes.).

The play is called "Draußen vor der Tür," lit.: Outside, in Front of the Door. Eng. Title: The Man Outside. It was written by Wolfang Borchert in less than a week, Fall of 1946. It was written for theatre and for radio, and had its radio debut in Feb. 1947. Wolfgang Borchert died at age 26 on Nov. 20th, 1947, one day before this play's theatrical debut. The Play is terrific. In order to entice you, and show that the play promises to be nothing but spectacular, check out how Borchert introduces his characters. This is the character list right before the play starts.

Beckmann, one of many.

His Wife, who forgot him.

Her Friend, who loves her.

A Woman, whose husband came home with one leg.

Her Husband, who dreamed of her for a thousand nights.

A Colonel, who is very merry.

His Wife, feeling so cold in her warm parlour.

The Daughter, just over for dinner.

Her Courageous Husband.

A Cabaret Director, with daring goals, but less stamina.

Frau Kramer, who is just Frau Kramer, which is horrible.

The Old Man, in whom no one believes anymore.

The Undertaker with a case of the hiccups.

A Street Sweeper, who actually does not have that profession.

The Other, whom everyone knows.

The Elbe.

HOW SICK! You can already tell this guy is a tight writer. He did all of his writing within a year, the year in which he knew, as diagnosed by the doctors, he would die. He, a reluctant soldier, was sent to the front line several times during WWII, broken up by a number of arrests. He was accused of evading service, putting the country in danger, and mocking Goebbels. In 1945 he escaped his French POW camp, and walked the 400 mile stretch back home.

We also had a little Secret Santa/Secret Easter Bunny sort of thing right before our reading. Sunglasses for the summer, chocolates with toys on the inside, and candles that smell like Spring.

Pre make-shift theatre and reading: candles, wine, and best of all, a pineapple.

The weather has awoken Freiburg, just like it does Madison. The people are out. The cafes are out. The sun is out. If I were a greek god I'd want to be Apollo; sunshine has unbelievable capacities, it just makes people happy.

Check out one of the three Magpies that hangs around our balcony and tree (and neighbor's stairway). They are gorgeous.

Life as of late has consisted of frisbee, American football, chai tee overlooking activites in Vauban, picnics, hikes, campfire musicals, and emerging colors.

All is well.

peace.

Frankfurt

I had a vacation this weekend. I have a weak, nevertheless present, instilled and false mentality that, being in Europe, I'm in a vacation. I'm absolutely not. I'm at school, just like i was in Madison. It's just a different place and a different system, but it's an active life with a job (occupation: student). Freiburg is not a vacation spot, a spot away from my "normal running" life, it is my normal life. When I'm in Madison for 9 months to study, it's not my vacation from a grounded life in Boston. It's the same here. When I'm in Freiburg (for 12 months), well, it's living just like living in Madison. Different place. Many, many differences. but not vacation. Frankfurt was vacation, something I haven't had in too long of a time. I slept without an obligation to wake up, I thought of nothing that needed to get done, I went out to eat, i bought a souvenir. Related thought: quite recently, I was walking through a new part of Freiburg, and i had an impulse of "wow I'm in Europe!" I saw a sight of the foreign and exotic land that is Europa, something that I no longer see in my daily goings in Freiburg. Freiburg is Freiburg, just like Madison is Madison, it's no longer "Europe!"

Thank goodness for vacation. It has such a mental savior twist to it, in addition to that curiousity and excitement of a new place twist.

Frankfurt is not a city you hear about (not in my experience anyway) when you think of Germany. It is known for its airport, yes. As a matter of fact, upwards of 50% of the pictures, postcards, stickers, and patches of Frankfurt are of the airport. or of a plane. or just, the sky, with an airplane in it. That says alot about the city, by saying nothing at all about the city.

Frankfurt, however, really isn't bad. I did nothing but walk while there. No bus, no train, although the system is excellent and extensive. I love walking; it's the best way to feel the city and its people, as opposed to the museums (which have nothing to do with the city, they just happen to physically be there). I like sitting in as many cafes as possible, drinking a tea, and watching the everyday life. Here's some of Frankfurt, as seen through by feet and a glass of tea.
Exiting the main train station upon arrival. It's always a promising sign when the first things you see with the above ground sunlight are bicycles :).

One of the gateways to the city center. The entrance of the left is to the Ratskeller! Made me think of Madison. Ratskellers in Germany are cooler.

This is a gem of Frankfurt. It came out of nowhere in the center of the city. It's amazing how, once you notice it, and realize what it is, everything in that area seems to become eerily quieter. It's a Jewish memorial ground for those who died/were killed during WWII. It's small (about the surface area of a football field), grassy, dimensional ground with winding stone paths and tall trees like the ones you might learn to draw in an art class. The ground is enclosed by the wall above. It looks the wall goes on forever when you stand at one end. Each stone has the name of a victim, years (often with an unrecognized year of death), and camp at which they died (also very often unknown).The most frequented camp was Theresienstadt, a ghetto and concentration camp located in modern day Czech Republic, though Germany at the time.

Frankfurt is located on the Main River. There are three prominant bridges over the river, all of which boast resemblance to the Mass. Ave bridge crossing into Cambridge.

This is the main square of Frankfurt. There was a drum collective playing and drawing a hefty crowd with mesmorizing music. These trees line the city; they line the main squares, pedestrian ways, and the river.The city from a rooftop cafe. The elevator that takes one to the aforementioned roof cafe: no smoking, no balloons! Sorry Nena.

This was in many ways an aspect of the city I did not warm up to during my 72 hour stay. This exact spot is cool, yes, it's the old city center. What's uncomfortable is the unfitting mix of new and old. Lots of old, lots of new, thrown together in a strange and rubbing sort of way. There are new and old buildings in most cities, but the ones here don't seem to work together. It's like using silk for half your shirt and wool for the other. The textures just don't work.

Ahh, best part of my days. Cafe, some tea, a postcard or two, and lots of people just living their lives. That is the way to do it.

Hookah bar right under the roof cafe! We had a great seat. See that little window on the front wall? People would, on a minute to minute basis, walk by to go up to the cafe and look in to investigate the hookah bar. The glass is strange and curved and the people looked the fish! But they didn't know it. I felt like I was in a submarine.The beautiful Mary Mo. The reason I was in Frankfurt. She, my New York/Boston-now-living-in-London friend, was there for work so I, being a quick and easy two hours south, zipped up for the weekend. Above: enjoying the best glass of red wine we had the entire weekend.

The city grew on me everyday, and on the last day i started to actually like it. I got to know a few parts somewhat well (as well as you can in... no time at all), but only walked through others once or twice, and would love to have more time in those sections.

Ten more days till the next travels! MEETING ERIC AND CAROLYNE IN DUBLIN! Think about it everday. Very,very excited :D

cheers and love,

Ben.

I Decided to be a Student

for the month of February. There is a large and rather balanced pro/con list thereto, though I can't help but feel, in this moment, that the cons do drown out the pros (drowning is a perfect personification. Please do imagine the month of February as such; goods and bads, and, then, bads swallowing anything in the realm of goodness.). The good that came out of the month is worth mention. I spent my time reading. One learns a lot that way. I then wrote papers, and continued to write papers, and I'm happy with them. I have not written papers like that since junior year of high school, junior thesis paper for Ms. Fulwider. For that one paper I allowed myself months. For these several papers I allowed myself one month. It didn't work so well. In German, you could say it didn't clap so well; they say things clap or don't clap when they work out or not. Anyway. After one non stop month of too much stress and too much sickness, and good papers, I am now repealing my decision to become a student. My goodness what a silly idea. And with that I leave the month of February; yes with no regrets, yes with some pretty legit German papers, and yes, never to look back. When you hand in papers, and then feel like you can live again...well you shouldn't ever really feel like you're dead. If you do, stop it. Stop writing, stop sitting, stop whatever you are doing. Or, make sure you're learning something.

There were a few exceptional moments in February. February is Carnival. Carnival is a festive celebration leading up to Lent, and driving right through it in some places. There are parades, parties, and affairs with special names- I'll get to one of those in a bit. Here are a few pictures from a parade in Freiburg. I somehow managed to get a window sit on the second floor of my favorite cafe, from where I watched parade while enjoying coffee and cake. Oh and a mango smoothie. and a tomato and greens baguette sandwich.

The costumes are the most characterizing aspect of Carnival (Fastnacht, from here on out. Fastnacht is the Alemannic, where i live, variation of Carnival). Costumes and masks are several thousand dollar investments. Some costumes are independent, most belong to a group. Each group has a theme of some sort which for basic Fastnacht ideals is based on humor. The point of the celebrations, as explained to me by many of my students, is to make you laugh. When I tried to compare Fastnacht to Halloween, they were quick to defend. It's not in the least about fright, rather entirely about humor, a lightness to life.

That being said, there are some groups of well known costumed people who have sticks, or any number of things with which they can hit you. The game is to try and steal their sticks. They hit you, you grab a hold and see if you can walk away with a prize. I often saw someone grab a stick while being hit, followed by a large game of tug-a-war: entire costume crew vrs. every onlooker in the vicinity.

As mentioned there are some very special celebrations. I was lucky enough to experience two of these jamborees. The first was a tradition in the town of Müllhem, about 40 minutes south of Freiburg, where I've recently been singing in a choir. We had rehersal in Müllheim, then went "Feuerschieben"-ing. I could not help but wish that you, Henry Kenyon, were there, because for the night, we were signaling the battle of the Two Towers. Quelling my Lord of The Rings excitement was impossible. Around 10pm we journeyed to the highest vantage point of this black forest bordering city. At the top of the lookout, there were half a dozen grand-tastic fires (also a Glühwein and sandwhich stand...I don't know if they had those set up in Gondor) glowing bright, and several wooden ramps, perhaps six feet in length, and 18 inches in width, with about a 35% lift. For the most accurate description of the night, picture the snow top mountains in Lord of the Rings, the ones that are thousands of miles apart, on which fires are lit to forewarn and amass the allies of the coming strike. We were such signal men. Here's how it works.

You have a stick. a large, six foot tall stick. You also have carved wooden disks, slightly three dimensional, about 4x4 inches, with a hole in the middle. The disk you place on the end of your stick, then into the fire, and then on fire. When your disk has a satisfactory flame and glow, you (a collective you, a progression of archer-messengers, so as to approach the ramps in overpowering conquer) swing them high above your head (so as the keep the disk breathing as hot and bright as possible) as you proceed to the launch pad (during procession, you may hum the Lord of the Rings theme song under your breath, if you so wish). Once there you take swift but precise measures to make sure your disk is in perfect sync with your ramp, and you swing. as hard yet accurately possible. It's kind of like playing Tee Ball, but the ball is lightly attached to the end of of your bat, and will be hit by impact with the Tee obstruction. The ball is also not a ball, but a piece of flaming wood. Then, with a great cry of will, you shoot your fire as far into the sky as you can, hurling it into the valleying village below. Then, after you have done your militant duties, you buy a käsewecksle! A really delicious sandwich. Goes well with the wine. Battle is much more indulging when it is imaginary.

Here are a few photos of our declaration and alliance, though pictures are not easy to capture in the darkness and shaking grounds of Lord Sauron.Fire dock 3a.

Foreground: valiant warriors, and the honorable Eleanor, preparing for volley. Left backround: a disk just shot rockets into the great Abyss.

Human (Germanic origins) group M-Heim swing their disks high so to feed their flames. Preparing for Volley 437b. direction South-Southeast, communications meant for Switzerland.

Streaks of sky high flame, miles removed: village in the valley.

A part of my life, as i interpret it, was revealed to me a short while ago. I asked my father how much he read to me when I was young. I'm currently fascinated by a growing and supported theory that intelligence is strongly linked to how many words a person hears during the first three years of his/her life. I've therefore been thinking a lot about reading to children, and the importance of books in their lives. I asked my father how much he read to me when I was young. He laughed when i asked him and said 'you know, I'm laughing because I've thought about this, and I've, in later years, questioned myself about doing this. But by the time you were five years old, I had read to you the entire Lord of the Rings trilogy, the Hobbit as well, and all of the Chronicles of Narnia. Among others.' What I can add to that, is that I didn't hear these books just one time through as a young child. I believe i was read the Chronicles of Narnia half a dozen times before first grade.

This is, i can only presume, a great reason as to why I often think of things in terms of Mordor; it is literally a part of my brain. It's been built inside of me. And when the day of the final battle comes...I will be ready.

Let's move on. Basel.

Basel's special celebration is called Morgenstraich. It takes place on the Monday following ash Wednesday. At midnight, one, two, three in the morning, people from all over start filtering into the city. There are special night trains just for the event. Such a train did I take, arriving in Basel at 2:30. There were over 100,000 people who went to Basel to take part in the Morgenstraich. There are about 20,000 actual participants in the event.

Morgenstraich is a 72 hour celebration that starts at 4.am Monday, and goes to 4.am Thrusday. Restaurants and Bars are open the entire time. At 4.am Monday, Every single light is turned off; the city shuts itself down. The only source of light comes for the participants. Participants travel in groups, each with a theme, often political. Each individual member has a costume and a lantern on top of their head, one that they make themselves. Each group has a large, large lantern float that they painted showing their theme. At 4.am the groups form with floats, piccolos, and drums, and they march, in any which direction. There were just shy of 200 large lanterns. They remain on display, outdoors, for the 72 hour celebration. It's the largest outdoor exhibit in the world. The time that people put into these lanterns is incredible. I can't describe much more without showing a little bit from the morning.

It's only right that this be the first Lantern you see, as it was the first for me. It's unlit, about 45 minutes before 4am.

About 15 minutes before 4, my friend and I found a tent serving coffee to these wonderful Morgenstraichers. We snagged a table and had a wonderful cup of heart warming cafe creme. Directly outside the tent, a group prepares their Lantern.

Five minutes before 4, we found a nice ledge on which to station ourselves for a bit. The above two pictures are just before 4, the bottom right at 4, when the lights went out and the lanterns shined bright.The march for this large piccolo-ing and drumming group begins.

Here are some Lanterns.

And a few pictures of the participants.

(it's a mask, if it's hard to make out)

The following are photos that were taken by someone who does such a thing for a living. They are markedly better than mine.

I also feel the need to give a few video links, in case you're curious. It's the only way I can feel I'm even beginning to explain what this celebration is.

This video gives you a pretty good idea of how dark a city can get when all the lights are shut out. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mtR0WXnaMaI&feature=related

A little chaos from Basel. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ifpc8zOEZwI&feature=related
This is a long video of the display, showing the Laterns set up around Basel. Kind of fun to take a quick look at some of the art. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9FCwXcezhpo&feature=related

No one could describe this event to me, and I unfortunately can't describe it to you. It's a non-stop movement of city shaking drums and melodies (with militant hints), laughter, statements, and most of all, art. Absolutely astonishing pieces of art. I've never experienced or imagined anything like it in my life, and don't think I will anywhere else.

This weekend I stayed in Müllheim. Saturday night was rehersal and table talk with grapes and bread. Sunday we sang (beautifully; it clapped.). Then we headed back to a family's house from the choir and ate a delicious, delicious lunch. It was nice to have parents cook! We then drove to Staufen, a little town fifteen minutes from Müllheim, and had cake and coffee. The town is quiant and pretty, (it's where Faust sold his soul to the devil!) and there are cracks everywhere. why? because the city center is rising at a rate of 8cm per year. why? because in 2007 they drilled under the town hall; they wanted to try direct geothermal heating. that's to say, they wanted to receive heat directly from the under earth in order to heat their city. Well, they kind of screwed up, and now pressured water is lifting their town. It adds character to the buildings, but it really can't be a good thing.

Tomorrow I rest, Tuesday I teach English at a high school about an hour away from here, Wednesday I write. Thursday I turn in my paper, and Friday the travels begin!! First up, weekend in Frankfurt. Really not so far away or exotic, but I'm as excited as one could possibly be to travel.

Enjoy your day.

:)