Time can say nothing but I told you so

    Readers dear, I apologize very much for letting practically all of May slip by without updating you on my life. Suffice to say that much of May was, for personal reasons, a month I'd rather not dwell on, and to that effect, I'll save you from an exhaustive recounting of the almost-month (ouch) I haven't updated and give a brief picture summary (of the good parts) instead.

    There was some fun in May. Ready, get set, photos:

    Another trip to Vienna (this time for SIX days) to spend some last time with Andrea before she headed back to the States:

Deliciousest lunch ever

    My twenty-third birthday:

I saved my cards in the mail to open on my birthday so it'd be more fun. Then my very sweet host family took me out to lunch at a cute little Italian place where we consumed a terrifying amount of food (we're talking three courses + dessert  + wine. Oink!).

My host family at my birthday lunch

   A birthday trip to an FC Bayern match (awesomest birthday present ever from Leigh!):

Note #22 for a laugh

Victors! (Obviously)

Bayern bear!

   Radlnacht:

Super cool night when the city center is closed to cars and people can bike a 12-km loop through the city (including through the tunnels!) Watch this cool YouTube video of this very night! Maybe you'll even see me!:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y0kuTcw-LU8. I also, for the first time, rode my bike all the way into the city center (about 13 km). It was actually a really nice ride! Munich is an incredibly bike-friendly city.

Coolest bike ever 

Bikers, bikers everywhere! 

Riding past the Bavaria statue 

 Some lovely English Gardens weather:

Germans are the best at everything. Including relaxing. 

Liquid lunchers at the Chinesischer Turm beer garden

And some generally beautiful German days:

Frauenkirche and Rathaus from Marienhof

Opera house 

Theatinerkirche

And with that jaunt taken care of, we can skip ahead to June.  My family is yet again on vacation (something else you missed in my hurried sprint through May), so I have a whopping ten days with the house to myself. I'm currently on Day 4. I've done a whole lot of productive things like do a puzzle, watch a lot of TV, and make a lot of fruit smoothies. It's just as well things are quiet though, as my choir is recording a CD this weekend, so I'm conserving my energy for that (as well as the almost daily rehearsals leading up to it. Ugh).

    Speaking of my choir, I will never again complain about sopranos. Seriously. Give me sopranos any day. This alto in my choir is, hands down, the bitchiest (yes, I went there) choral singer (she's in the running for bitchiest person, really) I have ever worked with. She stormed out of last week's rehearsal in a rage when she didn't get to sing an antiphon, saying she'd never be back, so we'll see what this week brings. I'd happily never see her again, though that would be bad news for our Alto II section, so I guess the altruist in me should be rooting for her to get over it. I guess. 

   Saturday night was a random trip to the opera! Going with a friend much wiser to the ways of the world than I, we headed to the opera house 45 minutes before curtain without even having tickets, and by the time the house opened, we had purchased two tickets from kindly older ladies out on the front steps who had extras. Standing room, yes, but the friendly standing room type where there's a lovely little velvet bench behind you, and you can even see the whole stage! The production was Rossini's La Cenerentola (the Italian Cinderella story), and Cenerentola was sung by none other than the incredible Joyce DiDonato, which I had no idea was going to be happening until getting there. The performance was completely wonderful, and we topped off the night by a trip to La Baracca, a cool little Italian place where all the ordering is done via iPad. Oh, the twenty-first century. 

   Today I headed down to the small town of Schliersee to visit Leigh, who's stranded down there the entirety of the Schulferien (school vacation). (Again with these Catholic holidays! Bavarian schools give two weeks off for Pentecost!) Leigh, Paulo (the opera friend), and I spent the day moseying around the little town and lake, having a delicious Bavarian lunch, and some ice cream for dessert. 

Schliersee

   And now here I am, updating my blog, listening to KUSC, and drinking a banana-blueberry smoothie.

   A brief foray into some personal matters. Feel free to skip, for those more interested in pictures. 

   Not to delve too deeply, but for those who are aware of circumstances, I will say that the last two-and-a-half weeks have been...well, really tough.  For the first time, 6,000 miles away from home, I'm here alone. And it's scary. And really, really lonely.  I lost the support system that got me through my bad days, and now...I'm not sure what I have anymore. I'm not sure what I'm going home to, what I have to look forward to, and on the other side of the coin, I'm not sure what I have left here. Choices were made that, not only can I not stand up for, I can't even remember the reasons behind them, or what good they were supposed to bring about. Despite everything, I always believed that certain things would work out, and I never really thought about the possibility that they wouldn't. And yet here I am, with all the certainties I had about the future ripped away. 

   But on the bright side, the worst thing I thought could happen happened, and...I'm still here. The world didn't end. Mostly thanks to Andrea and Leigh, two of the most amazing friends ever, who basically kept from going entirely insane for a week or so there.

    Next Wednesday, my parents land in Germany! Then three weeks of fun shall commence, and I cannot wait. Almost literally. I anxiously make another x on my countdown calendar every night. Plans include weekends in Prague and Nuremberg, as well as, of course, a touristy time in Munich! Now just get me through the next week! 

  I'll try to be better about blog posting. I just needed some time off. Thanks for reading, all. And I'll leave you with this poem, since it's been on my mind a lot lately. And everyone can use some more villanelles in their lives.

Time can say nothing but I told you so,
Time only knows the price we have to pay;
If I could tell you, I would let you know.

If we should weep when clowns put on their show,
If we should stumble when musicians play,
Time can say nothing but I told you so.

There are no fortunes to be told, although
Because I love you more than I can say,
If I could tell you, I would let you know.

The winds must come from somewhere when they blow,
There must be reasons why the leaves decay;
Time can say nothing but I told you so.

Perhaps the roses really want to grow,
The vision seriously intends to stay;
If I could tell you, I would let you know.

Suppose the lions all get up and go,
And all the brooks and soldiers run away?
Time can say nothing but I told you so.
If I could tell you, I would let you know.
--W.H.Auden

Scattered Observations and Apologies for my Lack of More Punctilious Updates

Cliona. And Baby, doing a headstand for you.

     

     Well, so much for doing better in January than I did in December. I was going to try and pound out a blog last night, but I was just so sleepy! So happy February to you all. Sorry I'm late.

     Not too much to report! Had a lovely weekend with trips to Hofbräuhaus, Kennedy's Irish Pub, watching Germans in short-shorts play volleyball analyzing European volleyball-playing techniques, eating pastries, having delicious Mexican food home-delivered from a restaurant, and a trip to the movies (in German! Yeah!). The movie theater even had pleasantly American-flavored popcorn....yum!!!

      I was pleasantly surprised on Monday night to get a call from the woman who runs Kilian and Cliona's English kindergarten--one of their teachers had a sick kid and they needed a replacement for the next day...could I fill in? Heck yes!  So I spent Tuesday running around with 18 crazy 3- to 6-year-olds drawing pictures, doing show-and-tell, making crafts, reciting nursery rhymes, and singing songs. I even got the "difficult" child of the class to be my best friend--he led me around by the hand most of the day showing me things and saying my name over and over for twenty minutes at a time. Kid has five imaginary friends. Oy, his poor parents. It was a tiring day but quite fun, and provided a lovely augmentation to my cash-on-hand!

     Kilian and Cliona are charming as always, if a bit challenging at times. Like with anything, there are good weeks and there are bad weeks, but sadly there have been more bad than good lately. Cliona is refusing to eat, Kilian is slamming doors and telling me he hates me...I actually had to send him to his room for the first time today. Fortunately he's six, not any older, and his angry retreat to his room was followed by and I'm-sorry-Laura and a hug and offer of a piece of his chocolate not much longer afterwards.

     I went to a birthday party with Cliona last week which, once again, featured champagne for the adults...kid birthday parties rock! Cliona obstinately refused to eat or drink anything, including cake. She'll wish she still had that ability when she's older...I'm glad the birthday festivities for Kilian are finally over--it's been way too dangerous having all this delicious cake in the house! Cliona, moved by the spirit of all these birthdays, told me last week it was her baby's birthday. Baby apparently turned 5. How awkward.

     Not too many other basic anecdotes, I'm afraid, but here are a few Germans-are-so-interesting tales/observations:


On Fresh Air

     Germans have a thing about fresh air. And by thing, I mean obsession. Fixation. Mania. Utter and complete, undying passion.  (Okay, thesaurus.com proved a little too entertaining there.) But really. It's a problem. One that, sadly, I am beginning to see the virtue of. The saying here runs roughly along the lines of, "Germans need fresh air; Americans need air freshener." So true.

     I didn't really notice the whole fresh air thing when I first arrived. When it's sunny and warm and gorgeous outside, as it was for the first two months or so after my arrival, the desire to have windows and doors open makes a lot of sense.

     But then summer turned to fall, warm balmy weather turned to pouring rain and chilling gusts of wind, and, as any normal American (particularly Californian...not that we ever have problem like the aforementioned!) would surmise, I assumed windows and doors would be firmly shut until the next more clement day presented itself.

     Oh, but no.

     Fresh air is, to Germans, as important as eating healthily and exercising. My German teacher would, every day, throw all the windows in the classroom (a whole wall's worth) wide open (bear in mind these are European windows, not American ones, and they open fully, none of that sliding-with-a-screen-behind-it nonsense. German insects know better than to come into houses.) to get our twenty minutes's worth of frische Luft. In case you haven't been keeping an up-to-date schedule of my whereabouts and activities over the last half-year or so (for shame (that was a joke, Dad)), my class ran from early October to early December. AKA when it's really quite cold. We would send the break huddled on the opposite side of the room, jackets and scarves on, wincing whilst breathing in the chillingly cold air coming in through the windows (often accompanied by--no exaggeration--pouring rain).

     A lot of the hype about fresh air comes with the far superior building and design of German houses. In the coldest weather I've experienced here (about 0 degrees Fahrenheit/-18 Celsius), the houses are never affected. The walls are so thick and so well-insulated and the windows and doors the same (thick glass? Beats me), there is never even a draft. I can (and have) walked around in a T-shirt in all kinds of weather. The downside to this is, however, that smells tend to...linger. Radiators are remarkably effective in clearing out any unpleasant bathroom-related olfactory events, but in larger rooms, it can be a problem. (Such as the living room, which still reeks of last night's ham quiche. Yes, despite my host parents throwing the living room doors wide open into the chilling, below-freezing night.)

     Did I mention that during the day, in freezing weather and ground covered in ice and snow, Germans flock to the streets and parks with their kids and dogs in tow? Fresh air, man.


On German Politics

     Why haven't you heard me ranting about the latest German political scandals?

     Because there aren't any.

     Europeans, and Germans in particular, I think, are remarkably calm about their political issues. With the excitement and drama (and idiocy) going on in the states right now with the Republican primaries, it's interesting to compare that to German points of view. (The Germans who are cosmopolitan enough to follow American politics are, for the most part, fairly shocked at how soap opera-esque it all is.)

     In Germany, those who are involved in politics do it as a job. As employment. It is not their life. I've heard from several well-educated, politically aware Germans that they have no idea what Angela Merkel's (German chancellor, http://www.angela-merkel.de/) husband looks like. Why's that? Because he has no involvement in her job. She goes to work, does her chancellor-ing, then comes home and that's that. I find it fascinating. There's none of this hype about family life and what-was-the-president's-wife-wearing and whatnot.

     There are a number of prominent politicians who have personal facts that would make Americans cringe and refuse to vote for them (and probably condemn them to hell). For example: the mayor of Berlin, the deputy mayor of Paris, the prime minister of Iceland, and the recent runner-up for the Irish presidency (I think) are all gay. There's a very high-level German politician (I can't remember who) who's had four marriages. And you know what? No one cares. None of these things matter. It's a nonissue. Europeans would view not voting for someone because of their religious affiliation or sexual orientation as the same concept as not hiring someone because they play raquetball in their free time. These issues have no bearing on how they would perform in political office, and thus they are not even thought about.

     The German political system is also quite interesting. Whereas America has developed a two-party system that actively promotes partisanship and loyalty and refusal to compromise, in Germany, it's exactly the opposite. With six parties all represented in the Bundestag (German House of Representatives), the highest with 195 reps and the lowest with 43, it's impossible to ever win anything with making friends and crossing party lines. To win an election, parties must join together and form coalitions, or it's impossible to get elected, make a law, or do anything.

     And here we are with two parties that couldn't get a thing done if they tried.


The Downside of Snow


     Don't get me wrong, I love snow. When it's snowing, I've been known to gallivant wildly and squeak and dance with excitement. But I'm starting to see why people can dread it.

     The last snowfall here was Friday night...so nearly a week ago. However, since temperatures have barely risen above zero since then, all the snow is still here. Except it's been walked on so much it's all ice. If you weren't aware, ice is not your friend. Ice is dangerous. Ice catches you unawares on a walk home from the market and sends you falling on your posterior (didn't break the eggs though!). Ice is also very difficult to push a pram through.

     Furthermore, at home the idea of yellow snow was always rather silly. Here, it's a fact. It's everywhere. Dogs pee no matter what the weather's like. Most of the snow is more yellow than white. Or brown, or black, or even red (which is always a little disturbing).

     Also, given that none of my shoes have a tread on them, walking anywhere has become rather hazardous. Don't tell winter, but I'm looking forward to spring.



Aaaaaaaaaand...that's all, folks! Yesterday marked the five-month mark of living in Munich...time flies!

And a shout-out to Nate, who flew home today to start a month of grad school auditions. Send him good vibes, because he's amazing!

Back to Real Life...if you can call it that

      Well, here we are again. I'm not entirely sure why I've been putting off writing another blog, but I suspect it has something to do with the relatively unexciting life I've been leading as of late...I think I've been waiting for something to happen so I can blog about it! Naturally, any followup to a blog encompassing Christmas and New Year's (and General Frivolity, etc., etc.) will be a bit of a letdown, and this time of year doesn't really help. I've never been a huge fan of the post-Christmas season; once New Year's and the Rose Parade have come and gone, everything seems to melt into a kind of grey, wet, rainy blur until late February or even March. This entry is turning out to be a rather random assortment of anecdotes, but read on anyway if you feel so inclined.

      I'm informed that this is about the warmest January Munich's had in...a long time, and indeed, even I haven't really been cold. Most temperatures have hovered around 0 Celsius, with the exception of one brutal morning when the kids and I walked to school in -11...burr! But today I awoke to the first genuinely snowy day Munich's had this winter, and it was gorgeous. Though probably not more than about 8 inches or so, it was tremendously exciting for me to see all the cars having to be scooped out from piles of snow and trudge through piles that went up much higher on my leg than accustomed. My family celebrated the new snow by building a snowman in the back garden and going to the nearby park to sled down the hill there (I went too! Anne took some I'm sure terrible photos of me sledding...if she sends them to me tonight I will include them. Oh, the lengths I go to to keep you entertained...). Here's the cutie backyard snowman (which, incidentally, Anne texted me about, referring to the "sexy Showmaster in garden..." good one, autocorrect).

Complete with buckethat, scarf, and skis. His nose fell off.

Me almost dying. Cliona's in the background in pink, Kilian in red, and Michael in brown next to Cliona.

      Cliona officially gave her Schnuller (pacifier) to the Schnullerfee (pacifier fairy) about ten days ago. Do tell me if there's any kind of similar tradition in the US: the idea is that when the child is ready, he/se leaves all the pacifiers in a basket at the hearth, and the Schnullerfee comes in the night and takes them away to give to other children and leaves a present in exchange. Kilian is of the opinion that the Schnullerfee is the same person as the tooth fairy, which would rather make sense; taking pacifiers doesn't seem like it would provide nearly enough work. Kilian also was responsible for a lot of propaganda in the week preceding the Schnullerfee's visit, constantly reminding Cliona that HE got a bike from the Schnullerfee and maybe she would too. (She didn't. Ouch).

      She's done pretty well without it, though I feel like she's done a little bit of regressing since. She has lately been insisting on help with going to the bathroom, putting shoes on, and making me brush her teeth for her. I've fallen into the age-old trick of telling her sadly that she's behaving like a two-year-old, and if she weren't being so frustrating it would be heartbreaking to see her little face as she frantically and hysterically yells "Nein, ich bin so!" and holds up three fingers. She also didn't realize until I explained it about two days ago that three and drei were the same age--no wonder she's been mad at me everytime I say something about her being three.  She also, when picked up from kindergarten, gives her normal scream of delight upon seeing me then remembers she's being ornery, collapses in fetal position on the floor, and starts screaming "Ich will hier bleiben!!!" (I want to stay here!)

      Kilian had his big birthday number 6 last Tuesday and of course received all sorts of cool presents. Cliona spent most of his birthday crying (the trauma of not being able to be the center of attention), but we muddled through somehow. With the birthday has also arrived the attitude of a thirteen-year-old, but I'm hoping that doesn't stay for long. He's often given to sweeping statements about how unfair I am ("My sister sits always alone on your knee and never me! My sister is every time first on the swings!"). None of which are true, I might add. When I made him get off the swings at the park a couple days ago because Cliona had asked to be first and then Kilian stole the swing, he sat there the rest of the time giving me the most evil look of death you could possibly imagine. Fortunately I am well acquainted with how to combat said look: ignore it. Indifference is a remarkably powerful tool when it comes to dealing with children.

Big six-year-old boy!

      Don't get me wrong, I adore my kiddos, but this was one of those weeks when we just really rubbed each other the wrong way. Monday Cliona woke up from a nap, started crying, which swiftly progressed to sobbing/howling, which continues for an hour and a half. When I went to bed that night the sound was still ringing in my ears. Mealtimes are also generally quite a challenge.  Kids started out as fairly picky eaters and lately have taken that to the next level and beyond...basically, unless it's pizza or pasta, dinner will involve tears and threats and maybe even throwing food. Kilian angrily told me the other night that he "hates salty food." Oh really, Kilian? Can you name me something salty? Like...pizza? "You can't taste the salt in pizza." Oh ho ho, my friend, you lie. Cliona likes to tell me she's finished eating after licking off her spoon. She puts anorexics to shame. Given that they both weigh less than they should for their respective ages, there's only so much I can do as far as threats, but they're not having pasta every night of the week either...if anyone has brilliant kid food suggestions, I would love to hear them.

      Some recent Cliona conversational highlights:

• On the way home from dancing, she bursts into tears and says tragically, "Ich will einkaufen gehen!" (I want to go shopping!) They learn early these days. Though upon being asked what she wanted to buy, the only thing she could think of was fish fingers.
• On the way to the park, she bursts into tears (sensing a pattern?) and announces, "Wir haben keine Süßigkeiten mitgebracht!" (We didn't bring any sweets!) For the record, never once have we brought candy to the park. I am not an au pair who resorts to using sweets to evoke good behavior. Usually. 
• When I took Kilian's birthday present away from her (an intricate set of rods and spheres you put together in geometric shapes (harder than it sounds), which Cliona's only interest in involves dumping the entire case on the floor), she tearfully told me that she loves me not. Kilian kindly translated that into a confession of hatred. Thanks, Kilian.
• On the way home from the kindergarten:
       Me: Did you play with Victoria today?
       Cliona: Nein, sie ist im Urlaub (she's on vacation).
       Me: Where did she go? Im Spanien? (Spain)
       Cliona: NEIN, im URLAUB!

      Children aside, everything's been good, if a little quiet, on my end too. A long dry spell between Christmas and payday led me to find a lot of low-income activities, like visiting the Neue Pinakothek, one of music's many art museums, this one featuring art of the 19th century (with an impressive collection of Monet and Van Gogh, particularly); Schloss Nymphenburg, the former summer palace of the rulers of Bavaria, complete with massive gardens (490 acres), lakes, and impressive selection of fowl;  and a lot of sitting in cafes drinking cappuccinos and catching up on reading and German studying. I've become quite fond of the European manner of handling cafe guests, namely that unless you ask for attention, they leave you entirely alone. I can't imagine any coffee shop in the states letting me get away with ordering nothing but a hot chocolate and taking up a seat for two or three hours. 

      I've recently started doing some SprachDuo meetings. Quite a cool idea really--you meet up with someone who is a native speaker of the language you want to learn who wants to study the language you speak fluently. (There must be a better way to phrase that.) I've had about five meetings thus far with native German speakers, mostly one fellow named Andreas (who, to be honest, speaks English nearly as fluently as I do, but seems to have fun teaching me). It's very fun to have someone to practice talking to, and I'm quite enjoying myself! I can actually muddle most of the way through whatever I'm trying to say, even if it isn't always grammatically correct, but it's a start!

      Choir has started back up, and my choir director kindly acquiesced to my request (I will never be able to use those words separately...damn you, Pirates of the Caribbean!) to bring in Palestrina's Tu es Petrus so we could sing through it once. Brings back fond memories of that amazing recital in the Sistine Chapel my freshman year of college! We're currently working on the Messa Sicut Lilium as well as the Canticum Canticorum for upcoming concerts, and planning a Probewochenende (rehearsal weekend/retreat) for the end of April. Sounds good to me!  

     And to be honest, that's about it on my end! Compared to the excitement on Christmas, it's been a little weird adjusting to the slowness of it all again, but it's getting figured out. Hopefully by the next post I will have more adventures to report. Week ahead seems not too thrilling: two nights of babysitting, a birthday party with Cliona, choir rehearsal as usual, but we shall see! Hopefully some more fun snow will come my way.