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

Bulgaria and Back: Welcome to March

    Happy March!

    Spring has sprung in Munich--not officially, or not even really weather-wise, but in everyone's mind, at least! Boots are becoming a thing of the past, the snow is all melted, birds chirp frenetically all day, and clothing is tending more towards shorts and dresses and skirts with nylons underneath (even with the shorts. Weird). Alas, it's not happening nearly fast enough. Last weekend, the weather was sunny and beautiful and in the low 50s (or so I was told, as I was gallivanting throughout Bulgaria), and with that report, my Cali brain embraced the idea, tripled it, and anticipated coming back to blooming flowers and tanning weather. I am ready to ditch this coat. But the arrival of spring is a slow process. Though at least the days are longer, the forecast for the next few days ranges mainly between mid-20s and low 40s. With rain. Spring, where are you!?!??!

     Anyway, if you caught the brief reference above, I'm fresh off a five-day trip to Sofia to welcome Nate back from his month-long grad school audition tour in the states. Apply to him for details: I'll spare you anymore about that except you should all be glad it was him and not you!  It was a lovely trip, with pretty kind weather, and coincided nicely with some Bulgarian cultural events:

• the tradition of Баба Марта (Baba Marta (Grandmother March)) and wearing мартеница (martenitsa). Ultimately a welcoming-spring tradition, martenitsi are red and white yarn ornaments worn around the wrist or pinned on a jacket, bringing the wearer good luck and health, and as an offering to Grandmother March to make the spring come quickly. The bracelets/ornaments are worn until the wearer sees the first stork or budding tree, and are then removed and hung on the tree. Though many Bulgarians end up with dozens, I only got one. Sad. 
• March 3 was the Bulgarian holiday of Liberation Day, basically their version of the fourth of July. It's the anniversary of the signing of the Treaty of San Stefano in 1878, freeing Bulgaria from nearly 500 years of Ottoman rule. A much more solemn holiday than ours (the history being a lot more recent, for one thing), there was not much observable celebration, but the advantage of being in the country's capital is seeing the main event: a parade with the Bulgarian armed forces, a speech by the new president, and fireworks and machine gun shooting, all in front of the Parliament building (a mere ten-minute's walk from Nate's apartment, I might add).

Some other general frivolity included a trip to The Mall (yes, capitalized. It's a big freaking deal), a walk around the National Palace of Culture (НДК, pronounced In-dih-kah, which led me to believe for longer than I care to admit that the neighborhood was called Indica. Not unreasonable, as there is a Serdica. I learned.), an unexpected visit to a chunk of the Berlin Wall, a walk through some Roman ruins, a trip to the hot springs, and of course some delicious local and international food (INDIAN. And DÖNER. YUM.) I also learned how to read Cyrillic! Nate got tired of my utter ignorance (as did I), so we spent an afternoon in McDonald's learning how to read the menu, with the help of Nate's very patient Bulgarian friend, Irina. 


     All-in-all, a thoroughly wonderful five days. Worked out conveniently with my family in that Anne's parents were planning a trip over anyway, and they graciously waited for me to figure out my schedule to decide when to come. And as always, a heartfelt thank-you to my handsome and knowledgeable host, Nate. 

Soldiers marching in the parade

More

Official colorguard

Parliament building. Note the sniper just to the right of the nearest corner! Nate was worried when I dared to take a photo of him. He didn't shoot me though. I am sneaky.

Center of the proceedings, with troops and giant lit torch. Would have been a better photo were we not behind many people and Nate only got this picture by holding the camera waaaay up high.

Fireworks! Happy Liberation Day, Bulgaria!

Oh hey, Berlin Wall, didn't see you there.

"On 13 August 1961 a wall divided Berlin, Germany, and with it Europe and the world in two. Bulgaria stayed locked east of the wall - and this until 9 November 1989, when the people overturned it. This broken piece of the Berlin Wall is a present from the people of Berlin for the citizens of Sofia - as a symbol of the reunification of Europe and proof that Bulgaria will be from now on free."

Mt. Vitosha in the background of the National Palace of Culture

National Palace of Culture (НДК) 

Skeptical Nate, probably making fun of me for being such a tourist

Crumbling monument to the greatness of Communism

Alexander Nevski Cathedral

Ruined Roman amphitheater in the lobby of a hotel. NBD.

Just hanging out in said amphitheater. I may have smuggled a chip of it home with me. Don't tell.

     Anyway, all romantic foreign vacation weekend must come to an end, and this one did as well. The only pleasant thing about my trip home was a fun moment at an airport cafe in Vienna where a waiter actually apologized for speaking to me in English--I love being mistaken for a native German. Europe: 0, Laura: 1. 


     As sad as it always is to leave Nate and come back to the grind, it is pleasant to be greeted by these cuties upon my return:

     Spending the time in Sofia planning trips and visits and summer adventures made me feel like it is all a lot closer than it is: alas and alack, it's still the beginning of March. Crap. The monotony of the week and the realization that there's really nothing of excitement to look forward to for another month, at least, got me down for a couple of days. But I've rallied. Fear not!


     The one nice day this week gave us a chance to go to one of the nearby parks and do some bike riding. Cliona has graduated to a big-girl bike (albeit with training wheels, or stabilisers, as my family calls them), and she needs all the practice she can get. Though I feel like she's incredibly young to learn to ride a real bike, Kilian did it at the same age and he's a far better biker than I am at the age of six, so apparently it worked. Our biking went...well, okay. Cliona is a shrimpy little thing and pedaling is far more difficult for her than I think she'd ever imagined it could be. She also can't steer. I know it's awful, but I can't help but chuckle a little (read: bend in two laughing uproariously) as she pedals at the sedate speed of a racing snail straight into the grass/fence/soccer goal, screaming all the way. 


     Kilian and I had a talk the other day wherein he actually realized I was ultimately a kid, like him, really far away from home. He knows my parents exist because we've Skyped with my mom several times, but he hasn't really conceptualized that they live over there and I don't see them. Our conversation went something like "Laura, why do you never see your parents? Don't you miss them?" 
"Yes, Kilian, I do."
"Why don't you go to see them?" 
"Because they live very far away." 
"Couldn't you take an airplane?" 
"Well, I could, but it costs a lot of money and then I wouldn't be here to take care of you." 
"Oh...but don't you miss them?"
An interesting moment. Kilian's a very bright kid, and I very much enjoy talking with him (though I did just struggle through twenty minutes of him sobbing in bed because he didn't want to go to his swim lesson tomorrow..."I hate swimming!" "Why?" "Because I hate it!")


   A couple of weeks ago my buddy Leigh was staying with her host family down in Neuhaus, about an hour south of Munich, and an unexpected day off gave me the chance to schlepp down via the BOB (Bayrische Oberlandbahn) to see some real snow. 'Twas a pleasantly relaxing day of taking a couple of her kids sledding and getting dinner at a cosy little Bavarian restaurant. I love days off! 

NOM SO MUCH SNOW

    Other recent adventures include a visit to Toytown last night. We successfully managed to swing the online vote to have it at one of my favorite bars, Beach 38. It's full of sand and boardwalk and beach chairs and is a happy, happy place.

Leigh, Leah, Lauren, Laura. We confuse people a lot.

Foamiest beer ever

    A couple weeks ago was a trip to a new Irish pub in town, Kennedy's, for a friend's birthday celebration! In case you were wondering, you can indeed get an Irish car bomb at an Irish pub. Though they laugh at you.

    I started a new language course yesterday. This one is located a convenient fifteen minutes' walk from my house, so it's rather more practical than the last. It's also quite small: seven people, I do believe. I'm again the only American; the others hail from France, Russia, Ukraine, Croatia, and China. I'm definitely out of practice in the format of a class (my last one ended over three months ago), but it's nice to be back in some organized learning again. I'll keep you posted on how it goes!


    That's about it as far as personal news. If you weren't aware, Germany recently got a new president, Joachim Gauck. Research that if you feel it's necessary. I just looked up and saw a truly massive spider on my wall. Oh shit. It just fell and is now probably in my laundry.


    Yes. Yes it was in my laundry. That was a harrowing experience. There aren't poisonous spiders in Germany, but one roughly the size of my hand (okay, a little smaller, but still) is still going to make me shriek a little. It's running around outside now. Say a little prayer to the spider gods that it didn't leave any offspring in with me! 

    I was going to try and think of more, but I'm too shook up over that spider experience. Eek! More to come soon, I hope! And happy International Women's Day!