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! 

     

I Finally Bought Batteries and Thus Have Some Photos! And Some Stories.

    Why hello, dear friends! Happy Sunday to you! It is rather a rather dreary and uninspiring day here; yesterday was gorgeous and practically spring-y, but today we've returned to the wet and cold that is winter in Germany. Fortunately the cold snap seems to have ended, and though not by any stretch of the imagination warm, the forecast for the next ten days is at least entirely positive. It's snowy and wet outside, so I've holed myself up in the nearest Starbucks (don't scoff; it's warm and cheap and open on Sundays and has free wifi!) with my computer, Harry Potter und die Kammer des Schreckens, and a large mug of tea.

     Starbucks in Europe is practically a clone of that in America, with the exception of one cool thing: if you say you're eating/drinking there, they give you a real coffee mug! In assorted tall, grande, and venti sizes, of course. Okay, it's not really that exciting, but it definitely gives it a feeling of homeyness!

     Anyway, as bleh (yes, that is a real descriptive word. Shhhh!) as today is, yesterday outdid itself in gorgeousness. The sun was out, the sky was bluer than blue, and the temperature was a whopping 45 degrees Fahrenheit! (Yes, up 50 degrees from some parts of last week!) Sadly, as the weekends (and presence of two very energetic and ready-to-play children upstairs) turn me into somewhat of a recluse in the mornings, I didn't proceed out into the world until about 3, and since my room's in the basement, I didn't even realize how lovely it was outside! Fortunately the sun has obliged since December by staying up later, so I took a bus ride into the eastern train station, a tram in a few stops, then walked the rest of the way into town along the river, only stopping to take some pictures and buy a couple of krapfen (Fasching's nearly over, after all!).

Walk to the bus stop

Families enjoying the day with their sleds

Bayrischer Landtag

Isar River 

Isar and Maximilliansbrücke

Icy riverbank

St Lukas Kirche

Rathaus dressed up for Fasching

    The day concluded with a couple of hours in Hugendubel's (Barnes and Noble's German sister) and a lovely meal at my favorite Indian restaurant with a friend! Quite a lovely Saturday.

    Interesting side note: German newspaper holder machiney things (do they have a specific name? The kind that stands on a street and you put money in to open it up and get a paper) aren't locked. You can open them without paying. Everyone is aware of this. And you know what? Like 90% of people still pay. How crazy is that? This country is ridiculous. 

     Okay, bathroom run. Cross your fingers no one steals my computer. If the rest of this blog is written in a voice (or language) other than mine, you'll know the worst has happened! 

DUN DUN DUN...

    Phew. Success. Someone was running out the door with it when I returned, but I beat them up and we're set for the post-bathroom-break part of the blog.

    A note on bathrooms: Not all of them cost money here, which I have trickily figured out. You just have to know the right ones to go to. Bathrooms in restaurants and coffee shops (and Starbucks) frequently have a bathroom attendant whose job it is to change toilet paper, wipe off sinks, et cetera. Though not required, it's generally expected to tip these women (not sexist, it's always been a woman, in my experience). But how much? Do you actually have to? This occasionally necessitates a run back from the bathroom to grab my coin purse. And how much is enough? 20 cents seems cheap. 50 seems like too much. Oh, the dilemmas. 

    Also, a word to the wise: the American habit of never referring to a restroom as what it's actually for (unless, I suppose, you're in some really hick town where they call it the shitter or something equally charming) is a purely American habit. If you ask someone where the bathroom is, they won't know. Same with restroom, WC, ladies' room. It's called a toilet. You're welcome.

    So let's back up a couple days more. As you may recall, we are currently in Faschingszeit: the six-ish days leading up to Ash Wednesday and the start of Lent. The true big day of Fasching is Faschingsdienstag, Faschings Tuesday (so the German Pancake/Shrove/Fat Tuesday / Mardi Gras). But the celebrations begin the Thursday before Fasching with Weiberfasching (wives' Fasching), a day that in traditional Fasching hot spots (the cities in the Rhineland) gives women permission to cut off the tie of any men they might encounter. Celebrations continue all weekend, culminating in wild celebrations on Monday (Rosinmontag) and Tuesday, with the Dance of the Market Women in the open air market in the city center. 

     My kiddies have celebrated by dressing up in costumes every day for kindergarten. (I heard moms at the kindergarten complaining about the Fasching theme--they're frustrated with silly themes that require costumes that won't be worn again. Pretty sure none of my Halloween costumes ever made it out of the house on a day other than the one for which they were intended...oops!). Cliona's costumes, unsurprisingly, have consisted of a blue princess, a pink princess, and a red princess. Kilian has branched out a little more and was a wizard the first day, a knight the second, and I think tomorrow the plan is for...no idea, actually. I'll tell you when I remember. 

Face painting that was waaaay too hard to get off. 

Pretty pretty princess!

Princess girls

    The city is dressed up for Fasching too! (Even in addition to the Krapfen!)

Lamppole in city center

    Though as an American I really have no comprehension of how to celebrate Fasching like a German (well, I could probably figure it out, but shelling out 100 euros as an entrance fee to a masquerade ball seems a little excessive. Especially on my salary.), my friends and I gave it a try Friday night. A friend's birthday celebration gave us a minor excuse to put on costumes and paint the town (okay, not the second part. Only a little). I confess I was not in the costume spirit, and Scrooge-ily rejected all offers to find me one, until someone brilliant suggested I paint on a mustache. Why this appealed so much, I don't know, but I rose to the challenge. Or rather, someone armed with eyeliner and better makeup-applying skills than I did. I make a great canvas. 

Costume completed.

Twinsie Frenchmen

"That ain't no Diet Coke." --Leigh Stephenson

    Another German fact, especially relevant to above photo: In Germany, you can get beer everywhere. There is no such thing as a restaurant that doesn't have beer. Seriously. Case in point: see above. When our tram was shown not to arrive for another 17 minutes, we took off to the Burger King across the street and purchased a couple of Burger Beers. In Burger King cups. Love. Amazingly enough, the type of beer was Miller Lite. What?

    Anyway, the night progressed fairly standardly, with some more beers, cupcakes, and other random things (that was all, actually; I just need three to avoid reconfiguring my grammar), eventually progressing into a dance party, which eventually progressed into a snowball fight, an attempted trip to a club that was thwarted by a group of passing Germans who promised knowledge of a karaoke bar. I stayed along for the ride until seeing the outside of the bar (spending the walk in cheery German conversation with a fellow who had grown up in Seattle), then seeing the time, wended my way sadly back to the subway station with Leigh in tow.

Saddened at the state of my mustache and rose. I think I was channeling a mime at this point.

  An uneventful U-bahn ride later, I arrived at my home station, only to find not only no bus awaiting for me, but no mention anywhere of when it would arrive. The thrifty lass that I am, I stubbornly refused to pay eight euros for a taxi ride and instead walked the 2.5 miles home in the snow and ice (only falling once! My knee is bruised.). Okay, maybe a taxi would've been a good idea. But whatever. I made it! 

    Today has been quiet and peaceful (if totally lazy). Tomorrow I seem to have off, so fingers crossed a plan to dash down to Schliersee and play in the snow with Leigh for the day works out! 

    Last Tuesday I again got the chance to work at the English kindergarten. I feel bad for being so happy about it, as it only happens with one of the teacher's son gets sick, but oh well. It's surprisingly less stressful than I would have thought, and the kids are super sweet and fun and (much to my surprise) adore me. It's also put me at 200 euros OVER budget for this month--a welcome addition! Hopefully now I will be able to register for another language class.     

    My family has officially picked their new au pair, which is a little weird to think about. Granted, I'm not leaving anytime soon, but it's still funny to think the time is coming--I sometimes still feel like I just got here! The end of February will mark my six-months-in-Munich-iversary. I feel like I've done pretty well in six months--I know my way around, know how to say pretty much anything I want to, am fully confident with public transportation, and can even find my way home in the wee hours of the morning after too many beers. This month has been a little lonesome, especially with Nate back in the States for grad school auditions and thus not having him around to talk to very much (six hours is an awful time difference), but I'm getting through it and having some fun regardless. In a week and a half I take off to Sofia for about five days to greet him on his return to Europe, so there's that to look forward to. And in the meantime, I'm doing my best to find adventures and have fun!  

Germany 101: Surviving Winter Through Beer and Pastries

Photobooth fun! (With effects. Kilian's face does not actually bulge like that.)

      Happy Saturday, folks! It is currently a brisk 0 degrees Fahrenheit (-18 C) outside, so I'm more than fine with staying at home writing a blog, rather than taking on the elements. (And, you know, I'm babysitting, so wouldn't happen anyway.) Germany (and indeed most of Europe) is still locked in its record cold snap, and sure enough the temperature hasn't climbed above about -8 Celsius in at least two weeks. However next week's forecast actually has a couple highs in the positive temperature range, so I'm optimistic.

     The last three or four days have been impressively snowy (okay, not much more than 3 inches on the ground, but enough new snow falls that it manages to look pretty, at least! I'm still pretty excited whenever it snows, as long as I'm inside looking out. Burr!

     The amount of snow that's fallen (and refuses to melt...downside of perpetual sub-zero temperatures! In California it snows, looks pretty for 24 hours, then promptly all leaves so things like ice and grit and yellow snow never enter into the equation.) has significantly shaken up my kids-picking-up routine. Whereas normally Kilian's bike is taken to the kindergarten in the morning and I bring the stroller over when I go to collect them, with this amount of snow both bike riding and stroller pushing are impossible. Solution? SLED.

     Oh yeah, sled. And not a wimpy little one either! These things are heavy duty. So our trek home consists of about a 20-minutes trudge (on my part)/gleeful ride (on the part of the kiddies) through a field/wood down to a bus stop about half a mile away from the kindergarten. There generally isn't enough snow to go the whole way home (and Germans are assiduous at promptly shoveling sidewalks), which is really fine with me. Have you ever tried pulling 60 lbs. worth of children half a mile? I think both my biceps are permanently strained. It's hilariously cute though. Cliona obliges by singing Jingle Bells for most of the ride  ("Jingle bells, all the way, fun fun in a sleigh!" are pretty much her words), and indeed there is a little jingle bell attached to the front of the sled to encourage her singing. Kilian would much prefer it were I a dog, pulling the sled, and is often disappointed at how slowly I go. (Umm, not only are they freaking heavy, but pulling whilst trudging (in non-waterproof boots, I might add) through loose, powdery, 5-inch-deep snow?)

     Kilian told me tonight as I was putting him to bed that I was almost as old as an Oma (grandma). "But you have to get some children first," he hastened to add. Thanks, you rascal. I made him promise to tell me if he saw any grey hairs on me.

     I will tell you with complete and utter sincerity that as beautiful as snow is, I am ready for spring. Ohhhh, am I ready for spring. I've had to fight the temptation very hard to become a complete hermit since the weather's gotten so miserable. Any touristy sightseeing expeditions had better be to things inside this time of year. I visit a lot of malls and bookstores and coffee shops. I will be totally lost when it warms up and I actually have to pick clothing that a)looks okay, b)matches, c)I haven't worn the last two days as well. And the thought of showing my pasty white limbs to the world sort of makes me want to scream with terror. My hairstyles have been winnowed down to double ponytails, the only hair that stays somewhat neat and doesn't get static-y under a hat and scarf. Makeup freezes off.

     This is somewhat disgusting, but I have to share it. Californians, you know how when it's really cold, your nose runs? Well, did you know when it's really cold (by rest-of-the-world standards, not California standards), your nose stops being runny and instead the runny-ness freezes. Yep. Frozen snot. I went there. You're so welcome. Don't begrudge me that--it's making me feel slightly better thinking about y'all in California tanning on the beach in your 75 degree weather.


     Last weekend was, as I'm sure everyone is aware, the greatest quintessentially American holiday of all American holidays: the Superbowl. AKA the day women pretend to hate but actually love because they're not only permitted to spend the entire day eating forbidden foods and gabbing, it's actually actively promoted. (That was probably politically incorrect. But also pretty apt, let's be honest.) Plus, you're supposed to watch the commercials. What? As a self-professed has-no-interest-whatsoever-at-all-period-who-are-the-patriots-again?-in-football American, I of course jumped at the chance to bring this pointless day to Germany and convinced one of my friends to host a mini-superbowl party.

     So around 4 PM on a blustery, chilly day, about 9 of us gathered, American food and a plethora of beer in tow, to celebrate the holiday in style. Food included tortilla chips and salsa, barbecue chips and ranch, chocolate chip cookies, nachos and guacamole (funny how so much traditional "American" food is Mexican...), chicken nuggets, cheese nuggets, and hot wings. Drink included beer, beer, and even a little beer. And we passed the afternoon, evening, and even a wee bit of the very early morning eating too much, drinking too much, and celebrating the holiday in style.

    If you're at all geographically or mathematically-inclined, you may have realized that the Superbowl's practical starting time of 3:30 PM California time lands it promptly at 12:30 AM, Monday morning German time. So our "Superbowl" party actually consisted of watching the Best of Superbowl commercials from the last several years, quite a few halftime shows, watching Justin Timberlake pull Janet Jackson's shirt off, and listening to Christina Aguilera forget the words to the national anthem. No football involved. So basically, my perfect superbowl party! We topped the night off with a game of King's Cup and quite a few rounds of flip cup. Most excellent. A few photos, courtesy of the amazing Leigh Stephenson:

 

Flipcup champs 

And this is when I fell while trying to crip walk...

    A few Friday night trips to the Hofbräuhaus have also been in order. Touristy though it may be, it's also warm, welcoming, inexpensive, and a whole lot of fun!

Wintry courtyard at HBhaus

     The German people continue, as a whole, to be their silly selves. (Don't tell them I said that. They'd be so angry.) I was proposed to while waiting for the U-bahn last night. It was rather alarming.  My language speaking buddy and I have continued to meet up fairly regularly, which is a lot of fun and great for my German, as well! Last week he brought along a picture dictionary and quizzed me on words; sadly, when I had to randomly pick a page, we ended up trying to identify sea creatures, and let's be honest: oyster vs. mussel vs. clam I can't really do even in English! 

     A brief story from my language partner, illustrating the awesomeness and law-abiding-ness of Germans: Andreas told me he once lost the rear plate from his car, somehow, and had no idea where it had gone, how it had fallen off, et cetera. After giving it up for lost, he came home about five or six days after losing it, only to find it had been reattached to his car. Clearly somehow had found it, given it to the police, who identified the car, and not only returned it but screwed it back on themselves. That kind of thing just doesn't happen in America!

    The season right now is Fasching: a culmination of costume parties and wild and crazy frolicking leading up to Faschingsdienstag, which is none other than....any guesses? German Mardi Gras! Though it's definitely not as big of a deal here as it is in the North and along the Rhine, I've still seen my share of costumed people dashing around the city. It presents itself as sort of one long halloween, replete with parades, festivals, balls, and parties.

Munich Faschingsparade (Thanks, Google)  

     More on that to come, I'm sure, as it's still a week and a half away. 

     The other fun part of Fasching is the delicious tradition that is Faschingskrapfen. A krapfen is basically the German version of a donut (I think it technically equates to a Bismarck, specifically?)--a simple doughy ball glazed or powdered. Bavarian krapfen are traditionally filled with apricot marmelade.

          -------> Side note: A krapfen in Berlin is known as a Berliner. Ring any bells? Good ol' JKF and his "Ich bin ein Berliner" speech, of course! Incidentally, some internet research has proven the whole "I am a jelly donut" mishap to be false. As one article I read pointed out, yes, what he said could be translated as that, but if someone said to you "I am a New Yorker," would you really start laughing hysterically because you thought they were trying to say they were a literary magazine?

Back to krapfen. During Fasching, these ordinarily not-very-exciting pastries take on a whole new level. Flavors range from Vanilla to chocolate to straciatella to Eierlikör (kind of like very thick alcoholic eggnog) to strawberry to lemon to currant...I could go on. I will never be able to eat donuts again. These things are so freaking good. 

YUM

     As sad as it is to end on a discussion of custard-filled donuts (my mouth is still watering), I can't think of anything else to say! Thanks for putting up with this scattered, fairly silly blog entry!