Happy Easter everyone

The four-day weekend is on day three and is getting a bit boring.  But, Happy Easter.

Because of the economic expansion, it was hard to find a place at brunch.  But some of us found a place and it was good.

Sunday, Sunday, Sunday

So today's Sunday, which means that the stores are closed and nothing much happens.  The highlight of my Sunday is to meet some of the guys at the nicht-Stammtisch where we eat a variety of unhealthy things and wash it down with tea or coffee.  Oh how very European.

Germany still has blue laws which govern what can be open, when.  It was a major shock to come here for the first time and find nothing much open on Sunday.  All the better, I guess, because I would have had to carry my groceries two miles in the rain.

This week is cold and rainy again, but last week the sun came out and the temperature made it to a whole 12 degrees Celsius -- low to mid 50s for you Americans.  That's what the Germans call "Das Grillwetter" and what Americans call a "heat wave".

Seriously, the spring here can be kind of nice.

It's the summer, fall, and winter which stink.

On days like that, people bring their little grills out to the park, grill sausages (or increasingly vegetables), and drink beer.  For being such environmentalists, people are surprisingly free to do this kind of stuff, and there is a lot of litter which gets generated.  In the States you'd get arrested for having beer in public or littering.  Here people think you're a little bit weird if you don't drink in public


On your more average Sunday, there is nothing to do except go out for brunch and/or drink beer.  I actually go brunch-hopping on occasion.  There isn't anywhere to walk to, and who would want to in this kind of weather anyway?  If you have someone to brunch with, the enforced downtime can provide much needed relaxation.  After about two or three years in Germany you might actually begin meeting people.

To pick your brunch place, there are several key considerations.

1. Does it have a roasted salmon which looks back at you?  All you can eat buffets are great in this sense because you can go after the high-value targets while the Germans inexplicably load up on bread.  There's a place up Holtenauer Str. which is like this, and the price is right.
2. Is there an omelet station?  This is actually kind of rare.  There's one place by the seaside which has this AND the fish which looks back at you.  It's also expensive and crowded.
3. Are the ingredients fresh and well-prepared?  Here, the clear winner is around the corner from me, in a Schicki-Micki bar which serves good food and mediocre but strong coffee and has the most confusing ordering system ever invented by a human being.  (You sort of pay as you go along and keep a tab at the same time.)  They also giggle when I speak German at them.  Nobody wants to eat the lunchmeat and cheese which have been sitting out for hours at inferior brunches.  You might get fewer nugget-shaped monstrosities, at a better price besides, at the Schicki-Micki bar.  Don't let the 1980s fashion sense of the other customers scare you away.
4. Is there unlimited, decent coffee?  Or at least is it good if you have to pay for it?  Ordering three large coffees with brunch can be almost as expensive as the food.  For the unlimited refills, the staring-fish places have them, but the place by the water prides themselves on their bad service.  That's how they prove that they're a good place, that people will go there despite being treated like they're at the DMV.  For decent, but pricey, coffee, go to the place over by the university.  If you make it there in the AM hours, the students aren't awake yet and the cheese selection hasn't begun to grow slime.
5. Who else goes there?  If you have to overhear someone's conversation for two to three hours, it may as well be intelligent conversation.  The Schicki-Micki place occasionally has English speakers and Germans with overly-complicated haircuts.  At its cousin, Nicht Nur Brot, the background noise is a bit strong, which can be good if you're trying to tune everyone out while reading the Bild or the Wealth of Nations.  Students go to the student place, so get there early to avoid them.  The people at the place by the water aren't as outgoing, while at the Fish Which Looks Back At You place I once had a conversation with some lesbians about their times as au pairs in America.  This can be good or bad.  You'll meet former au pairs and exchange students wherever you go, and they'll regale you with stories about fat people, speeding tickets, and bad bread.

This is the upside to the deep streak of social conservatism present in Germany.  It's a socially conservative welfare state which missed out on every bad twentieth-century trend relating to baked goods.  Abortion is very tightly regulated; shops have to close on Sundays; the Germans look askance at Dutch policies toward assisted suicide.  State funds go toward religious education (not for Muslims); and the "church tax" is alive and strong.  "Dangerous" religious cults are banned altogether.  Gays can't legally marry although there is a form of civil unions.  Maternity and paternity policies are geared toward a pro-family, pro-child stance.  They don't call them the Christian Democrats and the Christian Socialists for nothing.  These parties would mostly align themselves with old-style conservative Democrats back home.

Just so long as you don't forget to buy everything you need on Saturday, you're OK.  Always buy toilet paper, paper towels, and that kind of stuff in bulk.  And be prepared to say nice things about German baked goods to any random au pairs who might jump out of the bushes at you to practice their English.

The stages of acceptance / moving to Germany

Well-made video. The thing with the groceries happened to me the first time I went shopping here, and it actually made me completely break down. I had to walk two miles in the rain with my groceries in my arms, after which I got to a wet doorknob. I dropped my eggs on the ground at that point.



It's the little stuff that gets to you--waiting for the green pedestrian light, rechts vor links, trying to pass people on the sidewalk. You're cruising along, thinking you're doing OK, and then things come to a complete screeching halt.

Think of that dream where your mom is still your mom but you find out she's in a metal band and keeps a snake for a pet. It's like that.

It really took me about two and a half years to work out all of these small things, after which I began to adapt much more quickly. Now I'm a foreigner both here and in America.

P.S. The word for "whipped cream" is "die Schlagsahne".

St. Matthew's Passion

I just went to a very good performance of St. Matthew's Passion by Bach, with the Opera Guy, who's a really sweet guy who is not one bit interested in me. Wow.

It's totally different when you can actually follow what's going on. The text hangs together very well, unlike many of the Bach cantatas. And the performance itself was top-notch. There wasn't a dry eye in the church during the chorale:

Wenn ich einmal soll scheiden,
so scheide nicht von mir,
wenn ich den Tod soll leiden,
so tritt du denn herfür!
Wenn mir am allerbängsten
wird um das Herze sein,
so reiß mich aus den Ängsten
kraft deiner Angst und Pein!

I just wanted to hug Opera Guy during this chorale. But the easy availability of culture, and of cultured people, is something I really like about Germany. Opera Guy is a particularly cultured guy, but there is more where that came from.

I grew up in the southwest suburbs of Chicago, where culture is something that you hide in the back of the sock drawer. (I used to go on long car rides in order to get time to myself to listen to Beethoven.) There's the Chicago of the Chicago Symphony, the Lyric Opera, the Art Institute, a great avant-garde restaurant scene, theatre, and incredible diversity in sexual and gender expression. That was not the Chicago where I grew up. I grew up six miles south of Midway airport. There were decent Italian food and cable TV. That was it. My church (a normal Catholic church) and my high school (an all boys Catholic high school) had no choir except for one guy.

My parents are an open minded sort--in fact they're great people--but this type of stuff just isn't on their radar screen. I dragged them to a Handel concert once and they thought it was agonizing. So the easy availability of culture...people who are not afraid of it and have some serious Sitzfleisch...are something I really like about Germany.

Things I like, sunny spring afternoon edition

Sunny spring afternoons.

Tall pretty skinny guys.

Tuesday night Stammtisch.

The Northwest Ordinance of 1787.

Wine older than I am.

Arrested Development.

The Holy Roman Empire.

Dietrich Buxtehude.

Getting lost on bike rides.

Transatlantic business class upgrades.

The flowers by my old apartment complex in San Diego.

Pugs.

Fabulous scarves.

Venetian glass.