Unpacked.

Packing Up My Suitcase Heart

     Well, dear, dear, readers, we have officially come full circle.

     One year ago today, I arrived in Germany, scared out of my mind for the year that was to come, and having no idea what to expect.

     And exactly 366 days later ( it was a leap year), here I am, sitting on my parents' couch in Yucaipa.

    I've been back for about four days at this point. I know I should be saying how amazing it is to be home, how much I've missed the spirit of America and the beauty of our country and the freedom we have like nowhere else in the world...but in all honesty, after four days, I've had enough of America to keep me going for at least another year. When's my flight back to Germany again?

    I'm not trying to be depressing, just to be honest. There are things here that I have missed. I did my laundry yesterday in ONE HOUR. WASHING AND DRYING. It was incredible. And I went to a restaurant last night, and not only did I get free refills on my coke, there was unlimited ice water! Without having to ask for it! Ah, the beauty. I do get carded at restaurants again, though, which is kind of annoying. It's wonderful to see my parents and sister (and dog!!), and I'm looking forward to seeing the rest of my family this weekend and getting together with some friends I've missed. Tomorrow is move-in day at a condo in Long Beach, and then life shall begin in earnest. Life here, I mean.

    In the interest of full disclosure, this blog title is a lie. I have not unpacked. At all. Other than like four underwears and my camera cord.

    Moving on, I'll save you some time and answer some of the more obvious questions you may have:

• Yes, I'm glad to be home...but only about 30% glad.

• No, it is not the most amazing thing ever to get to drive again. I mean, really? Cars aren't that exciting. And as to the comparison in commutes...

Typical drive in Germany (I mean, not THAT typical, but not that extraordinary either)

Typical drive in Southern California. Mmm, smell those auto fumes. It's kind of like coming home to a third-world
country.

• No, I did not miss American beer. (I don't really know who would be dumb enough to ask that, but just in case). 

• Yes, I do love how cheap everything is here.
• Yes, I did go to the Disneyland castle in Germany.
• The food I missed the most was [good] Mexican. And Reese's. NOM.

For any inquiries you may apply to me personally.

    The weird thing about being back in the home that I grew up in is how familiar everything is. I'm starting to feel like I was never away at all. It was weird and new to be home and see my parents and sister for maybe...five minutes. And then it was like it always has been. Except my mom's redone the kitchen and I can't find ANYTHING. And I had a minor panic attack when I forgot to take off my shoes when I walked into the family room. And, you know, I tried to speak German to the Hispanic cleaning lady yesterday. Also, my parents got an electric couch. What? I don't know either. But other than that? I might as well have never left.

    It scares me to think of that happening. Of getting sucked back in to the person I always was, always have been in this place and this world. My niche is still waiting for me and it would be so easy to be that person again. But I don't want to be that person! I feel like I grew so much this year--I went through the toughest breakup of my life, and not only did I not let it break me, I thrived! It took me awhile, but I think towards the end I really jumped in both feet first (is that how that metaphor goes?). I spoke German with strangers, I went to bars alone and met random people, I swam in rivers and drank beer on public monuments, drove for extended periods of time in strangers' cars with large men who didn't speak anything but Hungarian, and managed to keep two children alive and healthy for a year.

   I am so, so grateful for the chance I had to live abroad for the year. That, somehow, the stars aligned for me to end up in the most amazing city I have ever been, with the best host family, the coolest choir, and the most wonderful friends. Considering I jumped into the whole au pair thing with about half an hour of consideration (and even less time deliberating about the family that had asked me to come), I got so, so, so incredibly lucky.

    Living away from home--and I mean far away, not college in the next town--taught me so much. It sounds trite, but it really is true.

• You don't have to have a shared background, history, homeland, or even language to be friends with someone.
• There are vastly more good, interesting, genuinely kind people walking this earth than we give it credit for.
• For so many people, out of sight really is out of mind, and it's a sobering thing to come home to. 

•  You can give someone everything you know how to give them and it still won't be enough.
• SAD (seasonal affected disorder) is totally a real thing. Everyone but the Californians have long since accepted this. 

• And where your home is has nothing to do with where you were born, where you grew up, or the people you know. Your home is where your heart wants it to be. 

     It feels trite and silly to say that Munich is my home. Obviously I've spent the better portion of my 23 years in Southern California. But being back here gives me nothing of the sense of contentment I found in Munich toward the end of my time there. And as silly as it sounds, I really did lose my heart there. Or found myself there. Or any cliche of the sort. And funny enough, I went through a year in a foreign country with only the teensiest bit of homesickness. But this week, back at home? Crazy homesick. For brez'n, spätzle, die U-Bahn, Nußschnecken, Weißbier...the list goes on.

     Right now, fresh off a plane, I know I see the imperfections and flaws much more than anything else. That's natural. If you showed me a gorgeous view of the LA skyline at sunset, I would be disgusted at the smog. And I hope know that will pass. But right now...I just want to go back home. I don't know if I hope California will become home for me again or not. But I've always wanted the option of living somewhere else, and it's gratifying to know that I am not so attached to Southern California that I couldn't live anywhere else.  I suppose to have this all work out perfectly, something awful would have happened my last day in Munich so I could have left angrily and been overjoyed to leave Germany behind and be in California again. But that didn't happen. And that's okay. I'd rather stay in love with Germany than end our beautiful time together with a fight. We'll just have to be long-distance lovers for a while.

     To my wonderful family and friends who have been so faithful about reading this blog, I appreciate it so much, and really, it means more to me than I can say. Every comment and "like" warmed my heart, and it made the hard parts of this year so much easier to have so much love and support coming at me from afar!

    As of the posting of this blog, I have 4,774 views (so please look 226 more times so I can break 5,000! And remember, if anyone goes to Antarctica, please take a look. For me?) And though you probably don't care, I find it fascinating--the country ranking! And please tell me who all my friends in Russia are.

    I've had some requests to continue this blog, so if that would be something you'd be interested in...let me know? Send encouraging telepathic thoughts? I've never kept a blog before, but this year really taught me how useful and fun they can be! There's no way I could have told even a fraction of my readers about the things I did without good old Packing Up My Suitcase Heart.

     For anyone who's curious, the name of this blog is taken from one of my favorite songs by The Weepies: 

"And all that time, I felt just fine
I held so many people in my suitcase heart
That I had to let the whole thing go
It was taken by the wind and snow
And I still didn't know that I was waiting
For a girl on a slow pony home"

    And to my friends back on the other side of the Atlantic, thank you, more than I can say, for playing your part in this incredible experience. I miss you all, and if any of you wins the Lotto, I expect your presence to come to this continent to see me as soon as possible.

Paolo, Sean, ME, Noe, Sarah, Flo, Louise

   And to you, Munich? Well...don't forget me, please. I'll be back.

Durst ist schlimmer als Heimweh

"Thirst is worse than homesickness"

 

    I leave Munich a terrifying five weeks from today. (Okay, five weeks and one day.)

    There are days, usually when I'm fighting with screaming children or ironing unending piles of clothes, when I'm more than ready to leave.

    But then there are days when the weather is beautiful, it's warm and friendly, and I just want to dive into the wonderfulness that is living in Europe, and I can't imagine why I would ever want to leave this amazing city, where I truly feel more at home than I've ever felt in Yucaipa or Orange or LA. I feel the pulse of this city far more so than I ever have anywhere else. I love the ease and comfort of living somewhere where there are universally understood rules that everyone follows. I love having friends with whom I can switch languages if one doesn't seem to be getting the point across. I love the openness with which you can sit down near someone who you exchange a cursory greeting with who then ends up talking with you for hours and paying for your dinner. I love the challenge of having a conversation with someone when I know I can't perfectly say what I need to, but they have the courtesy and the understanding to keep listening, smile when I acknowledge a mistake, and have the kindness to keep talking to me.

   I can open a beer bottle without a bottle opener, type on a keyboard with the z and y reversed without trouble (and even find my various umlauts and Eszett without flinching), navigate one of the world's most extensive public transportation networks after far too many beers, ride a bike while carrying several bags of groceries, and drink a beer in order to quench my thirst.

    More than anywhere I have ever been, I have fallen in love with this city.

    And the thought of going back to the land of catcalls from construction workers, doors not being held open, and walking down streets past dark being a dangerous experience is one I'm not ready to face yet.

    Suddenly instead of counting up from my arrival ("here three months today!"... "six months today!..."), it's counting down. Letters arrive from the Kreisverwaltungsreferat, telling me I'm running out of time to do something about being allowed to stay here. What do you mean, less than two months?

Thank God for these five more weeks.

    I am, however, ready to be done being an au pair. Though I do still think wholeheartedly that I got incredibly lucky with my host family and had a wonderful, wonderful time being their au pair, I'm ready to be in control of my own life again. Being an au pair is unique in that, unlike every other job, there is no such thing as being not at work. Even if it's my day off, non-working hours, et cetera, et cetera, I'm still at work. I can be asked at any moment to empty the dishwasher, cancel my evening plans, skip a concert so my host parents can go out to dinner. And it's incredibly frustrating. There's no such thing as ending your day and going home. Not ever having worked a true 9-5 job, I can't completely say what that's like, but I'd imagine there's some comfort in knowing that whatever crap you have to put up with during the day, at least there's a definite ending point to all of that.

    Though it may seem like the most carefree job in the world, it can actually be pretty stressful. And I will also say that after this year is done, I will have had my fill (for a while, at least) of relaxing. Having nothing to do is hard. And boring. And doesn't make you feel very good at the end of the day. I'm ready to have a purpose to my day again, and to do something that, while maybe it doesn't actually "make a difference," with all that heavy phrase implies, at least accomplished something other than ferrying two tired children home from kindergarten and stuffing bread and cheese into their tummies. As much as I love my kiddies (I really do; my future children will have some high expectations to live up to), I will indeed be more than okay with being done as an au pair.

    But the idea of leaving Munich terrifies me a little, right now. As time goes on, I find more and more reasons why I could actually be happy here. My shallow reasons like not eating Mexican food, not being able to find black beans, not getting to go the beach, et cetera, et cetera, slowly fade as I find my feet more and more here. I know where to go for good (not Rosie's or Cuca's class, but good) Mexican food (anything surrounding Giselastraße, for some reason). Black beans are, indeed, findable, if you know where to look, as is American brown sugar (one of my successes of this week). Last weekend, Leigh, Sarah and I went to a little "beach" on the island in the middle of the Isar, and drank beer whilst sitting in the sand (without breaking any laws to do so!).

   But life goes on, and us with it. I miss the days when a year was actually a long time. Now, a week goes by without my even noticing.

   But I try my damnedest to enjoy the remainder of my time here. I will be back all too soon to the land of obligations and requirements, of problems like paying for car insurance and coming up with money for deposits on apartments. To waking up daily at god-forsaken hours of the morning (I hope so, at least; if I'm not, that probably means I'm unemployed...or working a night job. Ew). And I will go back to my country with a smile on my face, because I am excited to see people (and my dog), to see my home, and to see if I still fit into the place I took myself out of.

   But I'm glad I still have five weeks to pysch myself up. I no longer feel like I need to go home. Three months ago, I was more than ready. But then something clicked, and I finally felt like I got my feet under me. It helped, of course, that I got to see my parents last month--were that not true, I probably would be a lot more eager. And I don't not want to come home. I'm just realistic (maybe too much so) about what it awaiting me there.

   And in the meantime...well, all I can say is I'm not done here yet. And I'll be back.

   Photo disclaimer: a lot of these are old. Though this weather is definitely not July weather by California standards, it hasn't snowed, at least.

Bayerischer Landtag 

Ludiwgsbrücke

Rathaus

Englischer Garten

St. Lukas Kirche

Nationaltheater

Theatinerkirche

Bavaria monument

Englischer Garten

Olympiazentrum

Isar, looking north

Volksbad and Gasteig

Isar, looking south

Olympiaturm

BMW headquarters

The field next to the kindergarten

Englischer Garten

Frauenkirche

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