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.

:)

We Started in d Minor and Ended on top of the World

Thought on Food.This picture marks the rekindling of my vegan kitchen. I've never really had my own kitchen, at least not during a time in which i was prone to use it. There's a kitchen in Home-Boston, but when am I there? There were kitchens in the dorms. One canteen for 120 students would work, if people cleaned up after themselves. And didn't steal. By the start of second semester my freshman year, all the pots and pans were missing, except one or two that sat uncleaned in the sink experimenting with their own worlds of microbial evolution. Freshman year was my vegan cafeteria. Madison is a terrific spot to be a vegan living in the dorms. The dining halls know you exist and they care. They host meetings with the cafeteria directors and overseers whatever their titles may be, and any vegetarians/vegans who want to put in their two cents (three or even four) in regards to vegan eating accomadations. What's more, they act on what you say; I asked for more Vegan Shepherd's Pie. And I got it.

I could be a vegan living off food in the city center or at the school cafeteria here as well; options are everywhere and ever-growing. But I have my own kitchen. Not only do I have a kitchen, but a grocery store 90 seconds from my apartment, a grocery store with more vegan meat options than any I've encountered in the U.S.. Germany is full of Wurst loving Germans, just like America is filled with salt doused corn syrup burger loving Americans. America also boasts a plentitude, though great minority, of vegetarians and conscientious eaters. So does Germany. The world is changing how it eats. In the early 1900's our source of animal products changed from family farmed animals to animal genetics engineering factories. What didn't change is the public's image. The word is getting out.

Meet Bruno. He, above, is happy. Mark, however, is not. Although it is his birthday. And he is happy, in reality, just full from a terrific multi-personal undertaking culminating in a veggie sweet and sour chicken, apple-banana-hazelnut-cashew-almond-raisin-walnut-cinnamon-apple-sauce-fruit-salad concoction, corn, pasta, and a spicy veggie red sauce lunchtime extravaganza.. Also a cake.

2 actually.

two cakes.

...one of which was a pirate cake! Picture from Mark's balcony, enjoying after-dining coffee. Little secrets of spring were rustling and dashing around all day. The birds were happy and lively, and the sun just smiled, until it was ready to turn itself around and move on. It enjoyed Freiburg for a solid afternoon and sat with the city for a good warm while.

We went to a classical concert that evening, Bruckner Symphony nr. 8. The piece was perfectly mediocore.

The 40 minute walk was simply perfect.

why walk?

The streetcars striked today. That meant I couldn't make to my morning class at the distanced Pädagogische Hochschule. Boy. Isn´t that a shame. I mean, I usually ride my bike anway, but... well the mere optionable lack of public transportation was motivation enough to miss the class.

A few pictures from Mark's quaint birthday party. I apologize that they are all sepia. One or two sepia prints would be artsy. All of them? It's just annoying, quite frankly.

Home Crew. Hier ist jeder in der Tat zu Hause. Haus 17 leistet ja schöne Gesellschaft. :)
Mark. Bruno.Es wird getanzt!besser......besser noch... ...und ein peinliches Foto, Mark. ehrlich gesagt. Du scheinst trotzdem hammergeil aus, ohne Zweifel. Wie immer :). "und wiegen und tanzen und singen dich ein"
This would be one of those photos that could look really artsy in sepia, but loses all potential when surrounded by a half dozen others.
I like this one.

It takes birthdays. That's the latest correlation in my life: more birthdays, more music. Two birthdays in two weeks, two accomplished music sessions. This one was somewhat of the epic sort.

Krümelmonster and Bruno started grooving to kick us off, though Cookie Montster's contributions were crummy at best. In the least, he was a never faltering supporter.

Bruno is a jazz musician. He is the closest I've been to Berklee since I left it. He talks about practicing in a way only a student of music could. He gives me peculiar blues progressions to play so he can practice soloing in phrygian. That is a jazz performance major for you. He talks about this musician and that, this motif and the other, and I think of Berklee. And I respect him for studying music just like I do anyone in that boat: with the absolute highest regard and admiration. I give music studies the greatest esteem because it baffles me. I've been somewhat studying music, either half-time or all out every-piece-of-coal-to-the-engine-room my entire life, barring the last two and a half years, and I've never been able to put it all together. I've always missed something. There is some piece of it that is blocked. I don't know if it's external, a sound I need to hear, a mentality I need to learn, or an experience I need to have, one that is charging at my head trying to get in but I've got a brick wall, or if it's already in there and I just can't wake it up. or find it. or overcome it, or believe that I need to. A fear? of practicing? of being judged? of not being the best? Sometimes you just have to do it, whatever it is. I don't know if I ever did music. I was 90%. or 80%. but it's all or nothing. Sometimes it's just that extra little push to get you to the point of everything I have is going in this direction. period. That's an overcoming. Regardless, Bruno is every-piece-of-coal-to-the-engine-room doing it, and I respect and admire him for that an inexplicable amount.

There were four of us who slowly amassed together. A quartet for the evening and into the dawn. Four voices, four guitars, scattered people fading in and out of the apartment as the night turned. We just played. We transfered harmonies from guitar to voice and melodies from voice to guitar and everyone listened. That's to say, those of us playing. Each of us had ears. That's why it worked with such booming calmness and bursting, soft-pedaling nevertheless full and unabridged energy. Listening Listening Listening that is the key.

It was a beautiful evening.

Streeesssssss; it's not such a bad thing in moderation. In the proper dose it is merely, though powerfully, a motivator. Sometimes it's the only one you have for certain affairs, example, writing a paper. Thank goodness my stress finally found me, i had zero other inspiration to research. The library here isn't as awfully harrowing as first impressions make it out to be. It's actually quite nice. I like it. It's also nice to feel like a student again. Well, nice to have the feeling for a day. Being a student should happen twice a year, and only when you want it.

March 1st is my date of Freedom. March 8th is the day I can fly. What I do and where I go are still in air, seeing as I can't think ahead beyond the evening, let alone beyond the month.

Fortunately some fabulous friends did some thinking for me. Eric and Carolyne are officially visiting at the end of March/April. Dublin, Rome, Freiburg as plans would have it. Stirring excitement; I'm pumped, stoked, excited; I'm challenged, the new induction into the English box of "excitement" vocabulary.

Delicious. A bright wintery night in Freiburg.

Find yourselves a happy evening, perhaps alongside a warm cozy fire (there's one in the rathskeller...).

:) happy happy. good day.