Robben knüppeln

In Europe there is an EU-wide university exchange program called ERASMUS, which I will probably end up dedicating an entire blog post to later on. As an American I can't be part of Erasmus, but I've ended up falling in with the Erasmus students here. One of the nicest things about being a foreign student in Germany is that even the tiniest universities have groups of native students that organize programs, excursions, and parties for the Erasmus students. My first week here in Rostock, I stumbled onto the weekly Stammtisch from the LEI, the local Erasmus organization. A Stammtisch is technically a table in a bar that is reserved for the regular guests, called the Stammgäste, but in this sense it is just a weekly meeting point. At the Stammtisch I learned more about the programs that are put on for the Erasmus students, including one that went on about a week ago.

In Warnemünde there is a seal research station, and we just had an excursion to go see it. Today's word means “seal clubbing.” Not this kind of clubbing:

But rather, this kind:

Rest assured we performed neither the kind of clubbing with the baby seals. But I digress, calling this place a „research station” is sort of like saying that diet caffeine-free coke is coke. Like, it's technically correct, but it gives a false impression. The station is at the end of a breakwater in the yacht harbor, and I'm walking down the ever-narrowing peninsula expecting some sort of giant laboratory complex for seals, and yet I am not seeing anything of the kind. And instead of assuming that the “research center” isn't a giant laboratory, I naturally assume that there must be some sort of secret underwater tunnel that takes us to the lab or a ferry to get a hidden offshore research platform, and I have got myself all hyped up for some sort of Fortress of Solitude style lab. Then I notice that our group has stopped and is waiting at the gangplank of some normal looking ship. Crestfallen does not begin to describe my emotional state. Since I work in a lab, I sort of naïvely assume that all science looks like this, which is not the case.

The "research station" is basically a ship with a netted-in area around it where the 10 seals can play...bummer. But still, baby seals are on the agenda and that can easily make up for the “research station” being a tugboat. We meet our tour guide, and she looks just like an older version of a friend of mine from Tübingen. 

Our Führerin...can I say that?

The tour is in English, which I assume was really hard for some of the other students to understand. The tour guide told us lots of cool facts about seals, including a little gem that I thought was interesting. Apparently when the seals hold their breath, they don't fill their lungs with air?! Right, I was confused as hell. As I understand it, the little devils are some how able to dissolve more oxygen in their blood, which is good because if they held their breath like we do, they would get the bends as they surface. Also, seals have fingernails, which is just wild. One of the seals in the “research station” is nearly blind, but somehow this isn't a problem (crazy!) because his whiskers are a good enough replacement for eyes.

Basically I learned that seals are fucking crazy. The don't hold their breath with the lungs, blindness is “no problem”, they can identify individual humans, and they can sleep underwater. They are almost as freaky as octopi/octopodes/octopuses.

Because this story can't end normally, I also have to relate the story of my return trip from the “research station.” All along the peninsula there are enormous boulders and signs telling little kids (and presumably adults too) NOT to climb on the stones since they can be slippery. Since it hadn't rained, I silently thanked the signs for their concern about my well being and then began to jump from stone to stone, I made it probably 100 yards and then started to get cocky. Instead of jumping to a stone, calculating my next jump and then going further, I decided to throw caution to the wind and just run along the stones. That worked for about 10 more yards until I rolled my ankle.

(Mom, put down the phone, I'm fine! No need to call the FBI, this time) My ankle looked hilarious for about 2 days, not unlike the leg of a baby elephant. But since then it's gotten better, still a little swollen on the back outside side, but I'm babying it and whatnot.

So that's the latest and the greatest, readers. Until next time!

Straßenkunst

Ok Leute, I alluded to making this post earlier, and now I’m finally gonna do it. I’m finally gonna release my cache of street art photos that I’ve been hoarding like an Appalachian farmer hoards his beautiful harem of inbred daughters.

I had a year of art history in high school. I remember it being one of my more challenging classes, since in reality it had very little to do with art. The teacher herself consistently made fun of the course’s content, which was mostly human geography of Europe and naked paintings of virgins, by calling the class “AP Maps and Boobies.” Regardless, I worked like a dog for that class, and as a result it made me sort of hate high art. I mean, I could never achieve something as technically skillful as painting the Mona Lisa, but that doesn’t mean I think it looks good. I’ve always been drawn to sort of lowbrow entertainment: Roller derbies, lewd stand-up comedy, the musical stylings of GirlTalk, and pulp science fiction. So, when I came to Europe and saw the amount of graffiti and sticker campaigns here, I was captivated and starting photographing it.

Graffiti along with these sticker campaigns are to me a mixture of political speech, egoism, vulgarity, art, and advertising. Graffiti can be simple or complex, boring or thought provoking, direct or metaphorical, etc. Anyways, enough of me rambling. I promised pictures and I’m going to deliver.

Berlin. Above "Take what you need!" The options are "Love, Hope,  Faith, Trust, Endurance, Courage, Understanding, Peace, Passion, Beauty, Freedom"

Frankfurt. This is the main character from a fairy tale, Struwwelpeter. Basically the kid misbehaves and is punished (hilariously) by the universe.

Hamburg. This one is part of a political message. I like that it doesn't explain itself well.  I mean the creator of this could have spend pages explaining precisely what she means, but instead I get to consider and find my own meaning.

Karlsruhe. Very often the graffiti is cynical and critical, but  I guess the point of art is to change society not reinforce it.

Krakow. Like I've said, Europeans love their bikes, and there are a ton that are just abandoned all over the place. This one got a knitted cover added to it.

Krakow. Given that Poland is so Catholic, I thought this was an interesting bit of art. My best guess is that the penis was added later...

Krakow. In addition to being cynical, the graffiti is more often than not political. My guess is the Cameron and "shock and awe" weren't randomly added.

Mainz. "Animals free you must" I'm not entirely sure what the Anti-Fa organisations even stand for. Apparently everything.

Neubrandenburg. "Skinheads against Nazis" To answer your question/confusion, there is/can be a difference. But really keeping track of the different subcultures from the 70's is a full time job. Skinheads, Mods, Punks, Antifascists, blah blah blah. It's a very interesting topic, but it's sort of like reading up on conspiracy theories: Interesting but really pointless.

Neubrandenburg...duh. Like I said, a lot of the stickers are simple advertisements. Certainly some group made them and they have a deeper meaning or motivation, but in end effect they are little more than advertisements.

Neubrandenburg. Again with the Antifascists. I really don't understand them, so if someone wants to explain what they are for/ against, other than the obvious, I'd be very appreciative. 

Neubrandenburg. Word.

Neubrandenburg. Haha. What can I say, I like the lowbrow stuff too. It used to say "exit"

Rostock. "It's our right to block Nazi marches.  Don't give an inch to the fascists. Neither in Dresden nor anywhere else." The translation was rough at best, it's more eloquent in German, trust me. Even though East Germany is supposedly more opposed to foreigners, I think they Germans make a bigger deal out of this problem than it really is. At the same time, I don't know how to separate German directness and racism. I mean the word "Neger" is still sort of accepted, and rap music is sold as "black music", which, by and large, it is, but still I find that racist and Germans don't bat an eye.

Rostock. "Choose a path" Another open ended one.

Rostock. Nothing very special about this one, this is just the name of the train station.

Rostock. "War is god's way of teaching Americans geography." I thought this was utter bullshit! Since most Americans still can't find Iraq on a map! This one was written in the picture above.

Rostock. "Just go fuck yourselves. For respect -- Against hatred and homophobia" This message was, of course, brought to you by the Green Party...duh

Rostock. A surprising amount of the graffiti is in English.

Berlin. "I'm from pussy, you Kreuzberg." Ok this one takes some explaining.  First of all, normally it would read with the words pussy and Kreuzberg switched around. Second, Kreuzberg is a part of Berlin. A really shitty part of Berlin. Like don't walk around in Kreuzberg alone or at all if you are a girl. Also, good luck finding an intact piece of glass there. So, the sticker is a play on how offensive/uneducated Kreuzberg is (because they said pussy), and also a joke about how hard Kreuzberg is.

Tübingen? This is from a while ago. Tübingen also had a graffit war between two teams to see who could tag the most with the most slogans. The teams were "Falafal" and "Currywurst". I think Falafal won, but they slogans would pop up out of nowhere.

Tübingen? Not much explaining to do here.

Bratislava. I laughed at this one for literally 5 minutes. In hindsight, it wasn't that funny, but I still like it.

Friederisiko!

I remember hearing someone say that god never closes a door without opening a window. I don't really believe in god, but if this quote is the case, 1) god must have an astronomical energy bill, and 2) god was on my side last week. Last week my plans to head to Erfurt for Easter totally blew up in my face. It was clearly through no fault of my own, but who's interested in placing blame? As fate (or a perpetually window-opening god) would have it, the day those plans fell through, my friend Caro invited me to spend the weekend with her and her boyfriend in Potsdam. Needless to say, I readily accepted.

Before heading to Potsdam, I knew precisely two things about the city. First, through a fairly simple mnemonic device I remembered that the last major post-WWII conference regarding the fate of Germany took place there. And second, from my several trips to Berlin, I remembered that a metropass including Berlin and Potsdam costs a full €2.30 more than a regular Berlin metropass. The €2.30 alone has been enough to prevent me from seeing Potsdam despite having been in Berlin at least 5 times.

I caught a train on Thursday afternoon and headed toward Potsdam to see Caro and her beau, his name is Joe (haha that rhymes!). The train station I got into was called Park Sanssouci, a name which I consistently mispronounced as Park Sarkozy, and it's right next to the Palace grounds in Potsdam. The Palace is great, but also overrun with tourists. The Palace, which doubles as a university lecture hall and of course student bar, is currently being renovated and spruced up because the man who built the castle, Friederich the Great, is about to celebrate the big 3-0-0. And Potsdam is going ape shit about this! The festival is called Friederisiko, a combination of his name and the German word for “Risk”. They're even building a new castle. Apparently the old one wasn't good enough. There is an art exhibition, and this whole shebang is slated to last 6 months.

My first night in Potsdam we went to see a Nirvana tribute show in Lindenpark, which is right next to where Inglorious Basterds was filmed, btw. The music was great and the atmosphere was really chill. I have to admit though, that I expected more of a Nirvana “show”. Those of you who know me know that I can't stand Courtney Love, and I fully stand behind the theory that that shell of a human killed Kurt Cobain. I had my fingers crossed that they would have paid some tired old hooker to impersonate Courtney Love and walk around the concert shouting obscenities at the crowd, spilling drinks, and that at the end she would reenact how she killed Kurt. But alas. After this we stumbled...erm walked classily to a campus bar in Potsdam, where we met two dudes from Cameroon. In typical German fashion a debate followed, where the Cameroonians, who by the way both live in Germany now, described the immigration problem in Germany. Let me repeat this: Two people from Cameroon, who immigrated to Germany, believe that immigrants are a threat to Germany....

Whatever.

The next day we set out to see the Teufelsberg (Devil's Mountain, in German). I didn't quite understand why were were doing this at first, and I should have asked for clarification earlier when I heard phrases like “...but the watchman is really lax” and “just an abandoned military installation”. Despite how it sounds, the place was baller! It's an old American radar station and listening post on the outskirts of Berlin. You have to climb through a chain link fence ringed with razor wire to get there. Though somehow there are mothers with children in strollers all over the place. Germans are a tough folk.

You Go Girl, indeed

This was our posse. The floor would occasionally just open up into 10 foot deep pits. This area was relatively safe.

The smallest of the four domes. You can climb inside and enjoy a great view of Berlin.

I'm not gonna share too many pictures because I'm saving up for a post later about graffiti and street art in Germany. After Teufelsberg we hit the town, and be damned if we didn't meet those two Cameroonians again!

Saturday we nursed our hangovers and checked out Potsdam. We found the villas where Stalin and Truman lived during that post-WWII conference, and we also found the Brandenburger Tor...the other one.

The Potsdam Brandenburger Tor, which is the one actually in Brandenburg.

The Berlin Brandenburger Tor, which is by and far more famous.

On Sunday, of course, we painted Easter eggs, like normal college students do on weekends, and then I hopped on a train back to Rostock, because that evening there was an exchange student party, but that is a story for another post...