Christmas

A Christmas spent away from home cannot be without an atmosphere of unfamiliarity. I'm not saying my Christmas was bad, but it was certainly dissimilar to any holidays I had in the States. When we, the few remaining Americans, weren't at the Christmas mass at the Gothic cathedral or singing carols or having long, rambling conversations over cookies and popcorn,  I found myself scrambling for things to do, from playing music to doing laundry. I think I've been more productive in the past few days than I've been all December.

Mass was a you-had-to-be-there experience. The interior of the cathedral is in traditional Gothic style: high-roofed, poorly lit, slightly sinister, and without color. The stone, bronze, and expansive space above our heads magnified the power of the choir and orchestra quite well.

There was a significant increase in conversation and hanging out during the days leading up to Christmas; one night saw four of us cooking and talking for six hours. I think we all felt a little strange to be away from home and we gravitated towards social contact as a natural response. We were, of course, the ones awesome enough to stay in Europe.

More American students went home for Christmas than I expected, and I'm left wondering why they'd ever want to leave Germany. Was it part of their plans or a more spontaneous expression of homesickness? Should I have gone home? Should I be homesick?

NO, because that is lame according to my frame of reference. I understand homesickness as a sentiment present in other people, and that's where I prefer it to be - in somebody else, not me. And why would I want to go back early? Let's do a quick review: six weeks in Austria which included trips to Italy and Slovenia, one month in Egypt, three and a half weeks in Bulgaria, and an ongoing stay in one of Germany's most beautiful cities; and that's just where I've been. Does any of those options sound unappealing? Why would I want to go back ahead of schedule when I could fill in that time with some kind of adventure?

I miss my dog, but that's where I draw the line.

Read the second paragraph again; or, better yet, read all my blog entries since May if you haven't done so already. I'm not trying to show off or look cool by advertising my past experiences, I just want the reader to understand how remarkable this year has been. The sheer amount of fun that's been had, especially in Egypt, would be hard to believe had I not kept a record. Homesickness isn't something I'm naturally immune to; it's something I've had to preemptively eradicate with experiences both self-initiated and accidental. What I've accomplished in just over half of my total time overseas is mind-boggling, and that's why the idea of staying here for another seven months isn't the least bit intimidating.

Aaaand my brother is coming in a few days. Do I sense an upcoming video entry? I think I do.

Grüß,
-Jared Boze

Joy and Anarchy

I don't really have any purpose in mind for this post. Here are some thoughts; we'll see where it goes.

Last time, I mentioned that I had a presentation to give, known here as a referat, which went fairly well. I risked a few jokes and my professor was, surprisingly, very pleased with that. I've seen a few attempts at literal translation of humor and none of those ended well, so I'm pretty happy that I can make a German professor laugh during what's normally a formal presentation using innate humor rather than a pattern I picked up while in Europe. I'm also very glad that I don't have to do any more research on Carl Eugen von Württemberg. For all the German intelligentsia cares, this man isn't worth writing about and his insignificance is an obstacle for someone who's looking for hard-copy primary sources about that very man.

I also received three midterm grades, which were...good? Good in the sense of knowing that I need to study obscure rules of grammar far more than is healthy, I guess. My two written midterms were great, but the grammar test, taken in the highest-level grammar course provided by the Institute, was the aforementioned kind of good. I'm not too surprised, because this fits my MO. My exams never turn out as well as my written assignments, and I'd be worried if it were any different while I'm over here. I think it has to do with a need to apply creativity to something I know someone else will see. It's like my music or this blog - I want every opportunity to share something I think is awesome. You can't share awesome when you're presented a test and told "go."

So it goes.

But academic stuff is not why you're here - if you care enough about me or travel or IU or studying overseas to read this, you want something else. We want something else; something with travel and castles and mountains and real food made of nothing but salt, cholesterol and animal casings.

Well I have absolutely nothing to say about any of those things. I won't be able to do "awesome" on a regular basis until our three-month-long Spring break. Until then, I have school, which I will describe in more detail in the coming months.

And now for something completely different.

The cold in Freiburg is as absolute as the heat of the Egyptian sun. It cuts through any coat that isn't high-grade winter gear and goes straight to your bones. But if you can endure it long enough to get to the Christmas market, you'll find that red wine, rich food, and shopping both mitigate and justify your suffering.

I've already mentioned the market's glüwein: warm wine mulled with cinnamon, vanilla, cloves, citrus, and sugar. Finding a good cup of glühwein is difficult, because getting something right in the middle of the spice spectrum is completely random, and God help you if you choose the wrong one. But if you don't want to risk a glühwein you can order plenty of less unusual things, like hot soup or crepes or non-euclidean bananas. 

They're straight? WHAT IS THIS IS I DON'T EVEN

There's an emphasis on high quality - just about everything is handmade by dozens of carpenters, brewers, and bakers from in and around the city. So far the only street musicians I've seen at the Weinachtsmarkt are little kids and one professional brass quintet. When the weather is relatively warm, many more street performers sell their music and art around the market's entrances. The result of such a chaotic combination of sounds and hundreds of people buying and selling and eating good food is a competition between prevailing senses of joy and anarchy.

That seems like a good place to stop. I'll post my next one on the 25th or 26th so you can get a fairly immediate look at how I spent Christmas.

Grüß,
-Jared Boze

Heidelberg

It is very late. I have to give a presentation next Thursday and I have homework to do but my brain is doing everything it can to avoid productivity thanks to fatigue caused by oversleeping, something I never thought would be a problem.

Normally this one would be a video entry, given its location. I don't have time for anything other than a brief narrative and some pictures.

Saturday, the day between debitcardeatenbyanATMday and getnothingdonedespiteahugeworkloadday, consisted entirely of a trip to and from Heidelberg. The group that left Freiburg consisted of three IU students, a Minnesotan, and an Australian we met through the Language Institute pre-session courses. Arrival took three hours (between 9 and 12am), which passed by quite quickly thanks to our complementary senses of humor.

This is my happy face.

We met up with another Minnesotan at the train station and headed straight for Hauptstraße, which runs through the Old City and is a major artery in the city's shopping district. Our first stop was a cafe just off the main street, where we consulted the map and prioritized the sights we wanted to see.

We all agreed it is manly to engage in map-based debates. 

A funny thing happened on the way to the schloss - we ducked into a cathedral to escape the cold and spontaneously decided to climb the spire. It wasn't necessarily an unusual event, but it struck me as such because the whole procedure was eerily similar to my thought process when I climbed a church spire in Munich. I was left considering how much freedom is sacrificed when one travels in groups - in the case of this group, none.

Even though Heidelberg doesn't have a particularly pretty skyline, the view did not disappoint. There's something hidden in this next picture. Can you guess what it is? Look closely. Click the image if you can't see the whole thing clearly.

There's nothing creepy about this at all. 

Hint: it's the massive ruined castle. There is a ruined castle dominating the city of Heidelberg. Now, I think well-preserved castles, cathedrals, and abbeys are always awe-inspiring, but seeing a dilapidated hulk sitting halfway up that hill during an oppressively cold winter day is just too cool. And you know what's even better? There's a ruined castle dominating hundreds of Germanic cities. I've said it before and I'll say it again: I love this place.

There was some kind of Christmas celebration going on in the castle. People had set up dozens of tents that advertised all kinds of things, and the air smelled like burning wood and glühwein, which is just about as festive as one could hope for. 

Up close it was very obvious that the castle was in pretty bad shape, which did nothing to make it less interesting. Actually ruined ruins have their own aesthetic standards, and this one did quite well on multiple levels, especially at punctuating the drained colors and generally muted look of Heidelberg in Winter. 

Germans take soul-swallowing bleakness very seriously. 

Astoundingly, we spent almost no time at the Weinachtsmarkt, which was our intended destination from the start. After the castle we were cold and tired and just wanted to relax somewhere, so we found a little pub on Hauptstraße and ordered some traditional German food.

I LOVE THIS COUNTRY

We ran to catch our train and left Heidelberg, arriving in Freiburg at midnight; simple as that. I could talk about our approach to solving riddles and everything we saw and discussed on our way back, but you really had to be there to get it.

I'll leave you with this: it is absolutely essential to travel with like-minded individuals, and by "like-minded" I mean "the same kind of crazy." There was nary an awkward moment, and everyone seemed naturally predisposed to being generally awesome in every regard.

I've included some extra pictures; depending on which blog you're reading this from, they could be either at the bottom of the post or scattered throughout. Click to view full-resolution.

-Jared Boze