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.