Gheorgheni II

In the tiny corner store, two puddled and graveled lefts away from our generous and Hungarian-proud host in the predominantly Hungarian town (90%) of Gheorgheni, the well speaking Romanian 40year old something behind the counter:
"If you speak many languages, you are many people."
She seemed to be operating in a somewhat less emotionally charged historical context.
Saying bye and thanks to Gheorgheni, we're off to Brasov.

Gheorgheni

Hello from the valley town of Gheorgheni, geopolitically Romanian since 1925, anthropomentally Hungarian since forever for forever. On our bike tour through Transylvania we have stopped for a rest day,enjoying the endless hospitality of passionate Hungarians... who shared American pancakes with us this morning. ☺ Anything non-Romanian seems to be unproblematic.

Not sure this picture is worth anything, think my phone has 2 megapixels.

Wooden gates and bicycles,
Ben.

Newsletter

To everyone who lovingly chimed in with e-mails and letters in the last few months, thank you! It brightens me up and gives me energy to hear from you. In hopes of answering adequately and perhaps reaching a few others as well, I've decieded to neatly clump every pending response into one grand, disproportionately overwhelming and daunting blogpost.

My job as of September 2015 is based fundamentally on me seeing the world from the perspective of others and acting accordingly in a supporting and nurturing way. This post reflects this in no way... I simply don't feel comfortable butting into my blog so unannounced, without the slightest acknowledgement of the past 2 years. For my own sake of reflexion, here's more than anyone ever wants to hear in one, two, or three sittings:

Winter, Spring and Summer 2014 were seasons of master-thesis writing book-ended by lovely visits, first of US family and friends

 in New Hampshire,

 Madison,

Boston and Pennsylvania for the first full Morrs family reunion in many years...

and then of Marina's German family at a reunion on Lake Constance:

My dad even flew over to join and ran the Berlin marathon just for kicks:

See all those people in the background still running? Yeah, they got nuttin on Tom.

That was October. Two months later in December 2014 I handed in my thesis:

Eine Untersuchung zur Sprachhandlung 'Kritik' im Lehr-Lernkontext Trompeteneinzelunterricht an deutschen Musikhochschulen: Impulse für die Gesprächsanalyse und den DaF-Unterricht.

I investigated on a socio-lingustical level patterns of excercising and receiving critisicm in a one-on-one teacher-student setting, specifically between trumpet students and professors at German conservatories. It was thrilling work (seriously). It was fascinating to get a close-up look (but a mere glimpse nonetheless) at the linguistical efforts we exert to save face, ours and others'. We (of course an entirely inappropiate generalization from my very context-specific study) have built into our structures of interaction many intricate and fine-tuned patterns for upholding our individual (and social) necessities of independence and autonomy and simultaneously of recognition, approval and belonging. What fun it was to watch people put these tools to work while performing an action that is potentially very dangerous for these needs: criticism!

Despite its fun, my thesis was a short year of highly concentrated brain work. Pure brain work, too little of anything else. In light of this I decided to celebrate by doing something for my body; I took an intensive dance workshop in the spring at TIP: School for Dance, Improvisation and Performance in Freiburg. For two months, six hours a day Monday through Friday I became an active explorer of movement and physicality, discovering the softenness of the floor, the strength of my bones, the turning of my joints, how to interact with space and objects, the playfulness of feet... It was a terrific balance for me and showed me an entirely new world, the world of improvised dance. I learned so much about my body and a motivation inside of me was awakened to continue exploring how I can use body and movement as ways of expression, art, self-discovery and strengthening, as a source of health.

The next months were full of incredible freedom and time to pursue my interests. After three and a half years, I moved out of my appartment at the beginning of May to spend my summer traveling and move into a appartment with Marina in September. I hitchhiked across Germany, meeting up with Marina in Dresden for a Lindy-Hop Workshop, heading up to the Baltic-Sea to see a new part of Deutschland and fish a bit, spending a couple weeks in Potsdam attending intensive dance workshops...

We decided to pitch a tent for two weeks instead of sleeping in the studios, it was a great idea. Beautiful weather, right on a lake (that I would be looking at if I looked up)... we asked a coffee shop nearby (like 30m away) if we could have a bench and table for the time we were there and they happily agreed. We even got our own keys to the dance studios so we could go the bathroom. Whenever we wanted!

Yes, to dance and to fish a bit! During our first hike in the Pyrenees a couple years ago, I ate a freshly caught mountain river trout. Because I felt like it. I was then confronted with the fact that I hadn't eaten fish or meat in over eight years, how was I to respond to my physical desire for fish? To explore it. But ideally in a way that seemed ethically comfortable and fitting for me... I landed at the following ideology; I'll eat fish, but only if I catch it and kill it myself, so as to be as involved as possible in the process of eating a once living creature. Back in Germany I took a fishing class and got my licence. And I've fished a decent amount. I do also buy fish from time to time and feel fine about it, knowing I have a personal understanding of what it means to eat an animal. Catch, kill, prepare, enjoy. This is a bass I caught under that bridge, about a five minute walk away from our tent in Potsdam. I walked there often in the evening and tried to catch fish for dinner.

:)

After Potsdam it was back to the black forest to look for a new appartment.

Newsletter Part 2

...and after a couple stressful but in the end successful weeks searching, Marina and I returned to southern France in July/August to finish off our hike through the Pyrenees!

The first time around we were joined by our parents for the first leg, this time by our friend Amanda! What a treat. With a little bit of luck we were able to hitch a ride in to the last little village in the foot mountains where Marina and I ended our first hike two years ago. We'd be picking up just where we left off.

While the starting point was the same, the weather conditions were drastically different. Our first hike spoiled us with mildly warm, sunny yet shady days. This trip spat hot, cold, wet and dry at us like a sick body that can't regulate its own temperature. We had to struggle with extreme heat on stretchs with no shade or water, freezing cold nights and torrential storms that forced five additional rest days we had not planned for. All the same, we arrived in Hendaye on the Atlantic coast in good time and were received by Marina's brother Tobi and our friend Anja for a pleasant week at sea-level.

Yes, there is traffic in the mountains.

This was a lonngg hiking day. And then an even longer one because we sucked at reading maps or something and missed like five cabins we were hoping to find.

But we found a big tent! And set up our tent in it. It was a warm night.

Wild strawberries!

The great ascent.

A very deep, very clear lake.

Fishin' us some dinner. But not really. Those fish were way too smart for me.

Me at work in my professional field, trying to reconstruct the skeleton of a cow.

Our tent on the front lawn of a very kind half-retired micro-biology professor who let us chill at his place and lavishly fed us upon hearing that it was Amanda's birthday.

Soon thereafter Amanda went on her way and we continued on zu zweit. Ciao Amanda, thanks for the great hike!

We went on to enter a rockier landscape.

A very, very cold late afternoon. And stormy! We arrived at this hut after running through thunder and lightening and were so thrilled to be in safety. We got to bed around 9 with the storm relentlessly raging about us and were awoken from our half-sleep just before ten to the sound of voices roaring their way through the valley. What IDIOTS! or true adventurers. Scaling a mountain in a dark lightening storm. They did make it. Got everything nice and wet though. hm. I guess I wasn't really all that pleased.

Woodland tent grounds! Pretty, but depressing. This was the one time on our entire hike where we couldn't get a fire going. The defeat! What an awful feeling. Just so damn moist everything.

What can say one(person) the France have angry translation crafts.

At this passage we stayed at the highest refuge in the Pyrenees (2651m) and witnessed a rarity, a double-rainbow during a storm break. That night was one of the wildest storms of our trip (there were several of them). The gentlemen there you see tenting, he didn't make it. Through the night, I mean. The wind ripped his tent apart and he stormed into the refuge at about midnight, wetter than wet with rips and tears in his equipment. He served as comforting proof that it really is worth it to spend a little money for a bed if you can have one and there is a big storm coming.

The next morning began with an ascent to over 3000m...

and then a 2000m+ descent. So painful! Our poor knees.

We took two days rest after that in a very nice town, staying at a hiker commune with a well equipped kitchen that we took advantage of!

A couple days later, things got wet and stayed wet. Fortunately not really our things, we had good rain-gear, but just... the world. Those kind of things.

We were once again forced to spend an extra day in this town when a storm caused for river flooding higher than the inhabitants had ever seen. The most impressive part was the thunderous rumble caused by boulders being carried down the mountain and clashing against the rock of the river-bed.

The next pictures aren't idyllic. In fact, there are somewhat morbid.

This is a dead sheep and a dead cow. They are not the main attraction. Well, they are. But not for me. My main attraction was much more elusive and difficult to catch on camera. Where is it... where is it... ah! there!

Vultures. Very large, heavy birds that eat carcass. We saw them almost everywhere on this hike. We saw them circling in the sky and devouring big animals. They go for the easy gets first, open cavities. That's why that cow has no eyes, mouth, throat or udders anymore. But they hadn't yet broken through his skin. We heard a story of a hiking couple a few years back. The wife died in the mountains, the man went back to get help to carry her body back and returned two hours later to find merely her bones.

We watched as the vultures waited with what seemed to be very organized patience and hierarchy for their turn to feast. They sat in groups of 10-15 on this tree and feasted on a sheep about 15m away. One bird would fly away from the carcass, perch on the tree, and a different bird would fly to the food. It was a peaceful ritual among the birds.

To lighten the mood again, let's take another look at a translated sign in the kitchen of a hiker commune:

Now please continue reading my blog(post) by reading.

Ahoi! Ocean ahead! We thought we were closer than we were at this point, we still needed two days to get to the water, though we were moving at a vivacious tempo. Beach beach beach beach...

Beach!!

After 35 days of hiking, 42 days after departing, we arrived in Hendaye! And we saw that the beach was good. And also very touristy and expensive but what the hell we had a ball.

Our tent spot.

Stomach race with Anja and Tobi.

Out at the rocks at low-tide.

And after a week of sun-bathing, boogie-boarding, getting rained on sometimes and wishing it were warmer, eating paninis on the beach, day-trips to Spain, good baguettes and olives, catching shrimp, struggling to decide whether is was fun or not to swim in big waves and riding in boat ferries, Marina and I headed back home to get ready for new things come September.

Newsletter Part 3

After our Pyrenees adventure we came back to Freiburg to start fresh in a familiar city but a new appartment. We had neither low nor high expectations for our appartment... we happily accepted when we were made an offer in early June, but acknowledged that it wasn't our dream flat. Having that said, we are continously surprised - even now after living here for five months - with how much we like it! This is mainly due to one false assessment we made when we visited in June: no light. And what did we want while we were optimistically searching? Sunlight! Quiet! Enough rooms so we each have our own space! We thought this appartment really only would fulfil one of those goals, the rooms (it does indeed have wonderful rooms). But to our pleasure, it's full of sunlight! The whole damn day! There are windows in every room. It's almost blinding walking into the white-tiled bathroom it's so bright. It's not a particulary quiet appartment, it's between two big streets, but it ain't that loud eitha. It's cheap. It's in a great location (proximity-logistically speaking). And the kitchen, by far the most important space, is very functional and big enough for dinner guests. We both feel... at home! How lovely.

Marina's brother and sister and our friend Raphael were nice enough to spend a weekend helping us transport and move in... after a very long Saturday we set to cooking our first meal in the new kitchen with no table and no chairs... but silverware and a little fridge we bought that day :).

We've since made progressive in strides homifying the place up, although there's plenty more to do, and have turned our kitchen into Haslach's best secret veggie-burger joint!

with home-made buns

 and pita-bread,

a flying cook,

 classic carrot-potato-onion burgers with feta,

 the freshest of herbs,

 rejuvinating variations with pomegranate, lemon and couscous,

guacamole burgers with breaded zucchini patties, home fries on the side...

and many more burgers that are consumed quickly before anyone has time to think of taking a photo. Guten Appetit.

Since September I've been working as an intern at a forest kindergarten. Kindergarten is different in Germany. It is not a 'pre-school' institution, there are no classes. It does not focus on academic learning but on encouraging hands-on experiences that build the basis for interactive learning and growth throughout life. It is a nurturing center for personal strength, discovery, individual-responsibilty and capableness, for social, emotional and language skills. It promotes personal recognition and worth, exploration of inner motivations and interests, the joy and aid of social interaction and ways in which people can relate beneficially and peacefully with one another. These are the fundamental capacities we need to manage and thrive in our life, to become who we are and to share this with our world. Academic education is very important, for the sake of understanding, of relating, of exploration, not for the primary sake of serving and fortifying a performance-based soceity in which the one-dimensional aspiration for more (bigger, faster, stronger, higher!) overtakes and eventually blots out our essential human-ness, our individual uniqueness, effect, power and love.
The kindergarten I work at is in the woods. We have 21 kids 3-6 years old who play outside everyday, mainly with sticks. Sometimes also with ropes, pots, pans, matches, saws, hammers and nails, shovels and of course crayons and paper. We have a boxcar that we heat with a woodstove. We do not have toilets, running water or electricity. We bring canisters of water everyday, have candles for light in the morning and go the bathroom in the woods. With shovels. There are no walls, the kids can move as freely and broadly as they please (almost).
Starting soon (March to May) I will have tests to see if I can become an official kindergarten-care-provider, not just an intern. I am a little anxious, but confident. Looking forward to it really. If all goes well, I will continue working where I am now, but with full-time and not intern benefits! :)

In other news I have, in line with my yearly habit, found a new (or discovered an old?) hobby: climbing! What fun. I took a lead-climbing class in December and have tried to get out on the rocks on every warm day this winter has provided. Here are some pictures from Marina and I's outing a couple weeks ago:

Me and a tree on a rock.

A side-view from about two-third's up the climb.

Marina down below...

Marina up above!

It's been a lot of fun to see the black forest with new eyes now, always looking for big rocks, it's brought me to new places and new landscapes, even if they're just a 30 minute bus ride away from Freiburg, like this place.

If you've made it this far reading my 3-part newsletter, chapeau.

Well wishes for health and curiosity,
Ben