vom Unglück verfolgt sein

Living in the state of Mecklenburg-Vorpommern is very much a double-edged sword. There are lots of things about MV that either sound great but in reality are shitty or vice-versa. For instance, there are almost no English speakers here, which sounds lonely at first, but in reality it means that my German has improved loads, and I am making German friends. Another example is that MV is almost nothing but farmland, however this means that a plant biologist like me always has fun stuff to see. Finally, this state is the tourism destination in Germany, which is great until you realize that almost all of the industry here is in one city and is devoted to tourists, which can make finding a job rather difficult. On the balance though, once you get to a bigger city here, the benefits outweigh the drawbacks.

That whole tourism thing that I mentioned is what I want to talk about right now though. MV is an absolutely gorgeous state to visit. It's hard to find an area of the US to compare it to. Whereas Bavaria looks almost exactly like Kentucky, Mecklenburg-Vorpommern is similar to Minnesota in that it has over 2000 lakes, but it's flat and fairly treeless like northeastern Kansas. So you might think it's like the American midwest, but it is coastal, which, in addition to giving the area a whole different vibe, also means that the summers and winters are really really mild. Finally, and this part I'm still not used to yet, we are at the same latitude as lower Alaska. The sun officially sets at 9:50pm, but it's not really dark until around 11pm. Sunrise occurs at a painful 4:40am, but that infernal morning twilight (and the birds chirping) begins at about 3am.

So suffice it to say that I find the area rather unique and very pretty. I wanted to take advantage of that in my time here, and I've had one goal (to rule them all). That goal is to see a national park by the name of Jasmund. This park is (supposed to be) breathtaking. It has bright white chalk cliffs that soar over the sea, fields of flint stones, and amber floats in the water there. The park is located on an island called Rügen. I tried to reach the park last winter, and I made it all the way to the biggest city on Rügen and then it started to snow, and since I was not prepared for snow and had to turn back. I was pissed!

Last weekend, I resolved to right this wrong and travel back to Rügen. I also wanted to see a few other things on the island, and I figured I could easily kill a day there. Sunday morning, David and I set out at 7 with the train to a tiny town called Binz. Binz is the prototypical coastal German coastal town. Very similar to Graal-Müritz, it's got thatched-roof cottages, steam trains, and is just very quaint. Near Binz there is a small hunting lodge that is now a museum, the Jagdschloss Granitz. Once we were in Binz and had gotten our bearings we set out on foot for the lodge. The trek to the lodge is through a forest and up what the locals called a “mountain.” While the lodge was technically at a higher altitude than the city, the mountain was really more of a hill. During this forest trek, I noticed that it was starting to rain, but I really didn't mind since the trees covered me. The forest, though, was very nice. It was very orderly with paved paths and had clearly been manicured. It was peaceful and in certain parts you could smell the pine trees. The hunting lodge itself was very cozy. Comapred to the other castles I've seen, this seems like one that I could actually feel at home in.

This is the outside of the lodge. We were very disappointed to learn that the building is actually pink, a decidedly unmanly color.

The staircase leading up to the tower of the lodge. The figure in the center is  some raptor  attacking a pike.

Just a few of the trophies hanging on the walls of the lodge.

The weather was sort of shitty, as I mentioned, but you can see here how flat MVP is.

You can also see how many lakes there are.

We then trotted down the “mountain” back into Binz. On that way back to the train station though, I noticed something that blew my mind!

It should say something that the store is proud that it is open for a total of 5 hours on Sunday.

See, in Germany like I've mentioned, the whole country shuts down on Sunday. Like, god help you if you have a heart attack, because the doctor will be like, “Sorry, it's the Lord's day. Gotta keep that sabbath holy.” So seeing a supermarket that is open on Sunday, even it it's only for five hours, is earth shattering.

David and I then hopped on a train to take us to Prora, which has a giant series of vacation homes built by the Nazis.The Nazis had this great idea that in order to conquer Europe, you would need a well rested workforce, so they built an enormous set of vacation apartments on the coast of Prora for all of the workers of Germany. It was part of a project called “Kraft durch Freude” shortened KdF, which means something like “Strength through Joy.” Right now, the vacation complex is sitting mostly empty. Weird that no one would want to spend their free time in a huge Nazi building. Who knew? The buildings also play house to a museum about the KdF project and the Nazi times. I would definitely recommend the museum if you're in the area.

Seeing Hitler in a knight's uniform was hilarious to me.

These things are huge and extend all along the coast.

This is, I hope, a play on words. It could either mean something like "...is a vacation" or  something like "Authority vacation", considering it's a sign about the Nazi vacation houses, I really hope they intended the play on words.

Around about the time we were arriving in Prora, the rain had started to pick up a little bit. I didn't have a rain jacket, so I looked like a drowned rat after we walked along the beach trying to find the museum. By the time we were done with the museum and ready to set out toward the coveted goal of the national park, David was starting to give me looks and ask some leading questions, “what do you think about the rain?” "are you getting cold?" The park is in Sassnitz, but the chalk cliffs and anything worth seeing is a good 5 mile hike away from the town.

I really hate to give up on my goals, especially since I'd already made it that far once and had to turn back, but I eventually came to the decision that hiking onto a cliff made of chalk after 12 solid hours of rain might not be the best idea. This is especially true since parts of that cliff break off all the time, and just last year a huge section broke off and buried a ten year old girl. It was with a heavy heart that I decided to head back to Rostock...

So all in all, I'm sort of pissed. I mean, yes I got to see a cool museum and hunting lodge, and got to spend more time with David, but I've been to Rügen twice now and have yet to see the Chalk cliffs. Today's word means “cursed with bad luck” and that's how I feel about this damned Island of Rügen.

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...

Komm schon, Hansa!

Any post relating to the FC Hansa Rostock Soccer team has to begin with disappointment. And my disappointment was two-fold. First, the team lost 0-1. This was expected, but still disappointing. Second, there was no rioting, and that is more disappointing than the loss.

See, when I told people in Neubrandenburg that I was going to Rostock, invariably they would make a joke about the soccer team here. Usually it was how much they sucked. The team is currently ranked last in the Second Bundesliga, and if they keep on losing could be knocked into the fourth league, since they might not be able to handle the third league's fees. The other kind of jokes were about the rather violent soccer fans that Hansa Rostock is known for. I quizzed a German friend of mine, and she cautiously or jokingly recommended that I go to a game, but she also stressed that it should be a game against another East German team, since those tend to be more violent.

The FC Hansa fans in Rostock are...insane. And everywhere. Essentially in Rostock, anytime you see some sort of vandalism, you can safely assume a Hansa Rostock fan is behind it. Broken window in the train station, Hansa Rostock. ACAB graffiti on a building, Hansa Rostock. Overturned car in flames on the street...Ok it's not that bad, but still. Luckily, the fans are easily identifiable by their tattoos. One group of fans in particular, the Suptras are known for their violence against the fans of other teams. The fans are often punished for this by the owners or people in charge. For the last game Hansa Rostock had against Dresden, the teams were forbidden from selling tickets. It was a ghost game because the fans were too out of control the last time.

These are the Rostock fans at the game against Dresden in 2011.
© Suptras Rostock

So, when I found out that Hansa Rostock would be playing Erzgebirge Aue, a team from Sachsen, and that some exchange students were getting tickets, I was on that like broken glass on the streets of Rostock. I was banking on these crazy-ass fans to start some shit at the game. Truth be told, I wanted to riot, but to borrow a quote from Battlestar Galatica, I also like to “let the emotion of the crowd flow over me. Waves and waves of it. Like electric current.” It almost sounds soothing, and it is, but at the same time it's very exciting. Electrifying, I feel alive in situations like these. You can lose yourself in the crowd.

Sadly for me, the Suptras screwed themselves over. After a few incidences like the one pictured earlier, the stadium owners decided that maybe placing the violent, Molotov cocktail-hurling, xenophobic Hansa Rostock fans next to the other team's fans was a poor choice. So they closed off an entire section of the stadium to keep the two groups apart. The Suptras are not pleased to say the least, since this area, die Südtribune, was their (curb)stomping ground. Now they are crammed into a corner section with much less space, and of course many fewer people. So, unlike previous games, there were no fights, no fires, no smoke bombs, no attacks on the other fans. But there were still the customary helicopters circling the neighborhood all day like normal. It's good to know some things never change.

As far as the crowd feeling, I wasn't let down. The regular fans are still pretty vocal and there wasn't a dull moment. I had a very loud German guy behind me the whole time shouting commentary on the game. Little gems like “What the fuck are you doing?”, “Move your ass!”, and “No, you ape, we're the team in blue and white!” His girlfriend was just as loud; a perfect pair really.

During the opening chant.

Speaking of chants a whatnot, today's title means “Come on, Hansa!” There is a fan song related to this: the Komm Schon, Hansa fan song...to the tune of Barbie Girl for some reason.

The game itself was pretty boring. It always is when your team is losing. There was a red card pulled in the first 12 minutes against a Hansa Rostock player, Erzgebirge Aue faked more injuries than I thought possible for adults. But all in all, I would certainly go back for another game. The tickets were cheap, the mood is great, and eventually the Suptras will start something. Like I said, it's a goal of mine to be in a riot, and if my teachers taught me anything it's never let go of your dreams.

Yes, I did take pictures of more than the fans

Bernstein

“I'm riding a 3-speed, 20 year-old, communist-made bicycle with mismatched tires, what the Christ do you expect from me?!” I shout to myself as I flounder on the muddy trail. I've never taken a bike trip outside of a city before, but I've decided that my first foray into longer distance cycling should take the form of a 13 mile trip to the town of Ribntz-Damgarten. Go big or go home, right?

After the bomb threat to the University that kicked this week off, I decided that I needed more excitement in my life. I decided to take this bike trip for several other reasons as well though. First of all, I recently repaired my bicycle, and I'm drunk with my power being able to travel at upwards of 15 miles per hour! Also, I've developed a recent “interest binge” in amber after my coworker told me that the area here is just covered in the stuff. Eventually I landed on the idea of visiting the Amber Museum in Ribnitz-Damgarten, which bills itself as the Amber City. Today's word, “Bernstein” comes from the low German word “bernen”, which means “to burn” and “stein”, which of course means “stone”. Bernstein is the German word for amber, did you know that amber is flammable? Neither did I!

I planned on combing the beach for amber for about an hour before I set off on my trip. Did you know that amber floats in salt water? (Neither did I!) My wide-eyed and naïve goal was to load up on at least 1 pound of amber before I hit the trails, sell it along the way, and finance my admission to the museum. Turns out, amber only washes ashore after storms, and we've had fantastic weather over the past few days. My planned departure point was Markgrafenheide, just north east of Rostock. I was going to travel along the coast and then after about 7 miles head straight east to Ribnitz-Damgarten, emphasis on the “planned” and “was going to” parts in the last sentence.

It was a beautiful and foggy morning, totally alone on the beach.

I didn't bother to plan an actual route for my trip, but I knew the cities I was supposed to turn at, and I figured that would work well enough. Nope. On the trails, it didn't tell you where you were currently located, rather it told you where you could go from that point. It's like instead of saying “you're in Kansas City” it says “head this way to get to New York”, which is a stupid system, because you can head west out of Kansas City and eventually get to New York. This is apparently how the trail planners thought too. According to them “This way to XYZ“ means that they will take you to the middle of no where and then to XYZ. My midway point was the city of Graal-Müritz, beautiful name, dont you think? And as chance would have it, nearly every bike path east of Rostock leads to Graal-Müritz. This means that instead of taking an efficient route, I zig zagged all over the damned forest. At one point, I was forced to choose between a path through a swamp, which was reported to be flooded out and another path, which I could see to be nothing but mud. I opted for mud and was handsomely rewarded, with more mud. At another point, I turned left when I shouldn't have and went about 2 miles on the trail and ended up going about 500 yards as the crow flies. But it's the journey that matters, not the destination, right? Right? Somebody tell me I'm right...

Eventually I did make it to the euphonious town of Graal-Müritz. GM was once, and still is today, a spa resort town, and this place was gorgeous. Rows of villas, cafes, bright colors, thatched roofed cottages. Very picturesque. I should have planned my trip in reverse, so that I could end my day with an hour in the sauna and a relaxing massage from a Swede named Njord, but alas. Regardless, GM is definitely a place I intend on returning to when I have more time on my hands.

The thatched roofs look so cool.

After leaving GM, it was luckily a straight shot to Ribnitz-Damgarten. I guess god decided I needed a break. RD, like I said, bills itself as the Bernsteinstadt, and it sounds dumb, but I was literally expecting a town made of amber. Like amber windows, amber roads, amber everything. Nevermind that this would be horribly expensive and a disaster if anymore ever lit a match, but I wanted amber, damnit!

I could not be happier to be done biking.

This is the Amber Fisher and his Family fountain in the center of town. You can see him and his barefoot, hillbilly children, with their no doubt rabid dog.

The museum was really interesting, and when you pay to get in, they give you a free piece of amber. Apparently they are just rolling in it, so they can give the stuff away. One floor is the science of amber, how it forms, where it comes from, why Jurassic Park was total bullshit, and where to find it. I plugged my ears when they talked about Jurassic Park; I have to hold onto my childhood. The second story was all about amber jewelry and decorations, which, in my opinion, was an utter snooze-fest. “Oh look another amber necklace! Look at all the ways I can wear amber around my neck!” Take my advice and stay on the ground floor. The museum also has an amber finisher that you can watch, and for 5-15€ you can even finish a piece yourself. The museum staff are really nice, and the lady even let me take an extra piece of amber for free. I did have to shower her with compliments about how great the museum was though.

After the museum, I bummed around the city, ate lunch, and then hopped on a train back to Rostock. This train ride took 20 minutes and cost me 3€. My trip out took me 3 hours, but it was free, it was also beautiful, and I'd do it again in a heartbeat!

der Umzug

I have been in my new home, Rostock, for just over a week now. I would have written yesterday on the one week mark, but I was wicked tired since I stayed up late to watch the Superbowl.

Last week I checked out of my room in Neubrandenburg. I'd spent the previous 24 hours scrubbing my walls with an eraser after the horror stories I'd heard from the Latvian students about room damage fees. In the end I got away with somewhere between 6.25€ and whatever a painter costs for a day in damages. The Purple Hair Lady (which surprisingly doesn't narrow the field of possible people much in Germany) claimed that the place I leaned against the wall would need to be repaired...or the entire room be painted. Maybe if they didn't paint the walls with CHALK it wouldn't be a problem, but I digress. I've moved out. Today's word by the way mean “relocation.”

This. This right here. This is what my life fits into. No bullshit.

I've moved to Rostock now because I am starting my internship phase of the program. I have my internship at the University of Rostock in the Agrobiotechnology Lab. Their website is mostly in German, but the gist of the research is getting plants to grow things that are expensive, difficult, or environmentally damaging for humans to produce normally. The two main things we trick the plants into making are immune system proteins (which normally require you to infect an animal and harvest it's blood in order to produce) and plastics (which take a lot of oil and never break down in a landfill). I'm über-excited!

The painted wooden cow in the foyer should have been the first tip that my workplace would be non-traditional

Beforehand, I was expecting the really serious work environment that everyone kept alluding to. Namely that you are always on time, your coworkers are NOT your friends, you dress well, and you are meticulously thorough. I scoped out my lab the day before I started to make sure I knew where it was in the morning, and be damned if I didn't stumble onto my boss during my casing of the building. She was happy and laughed a lot and was generally very friendly. I immediately assumed that she had to be the exception to the rule. So the next day, I walk in, and everyone is very friendly, they (surprisingly) approach me and ask me about my home and my life. In the first 2 minutes, my boss informs me that everyone there uses the informal version of “you” when the address each other, which I also didn't expect. I mean my cell phone doesn't even use the informal version of “you” with me, and god knows the secrets that thing knows about me. My coworkers are really cool people. We have two Christophs. One of whom has been showing me around in the lab. He sort of looks like Einstein, and he's also pretty smart. The other one has been showing me around the city, and has an impressive list of hobbies including cooking, vaulting, photography, and farming...oh and he's a trained carpenter. Oh and in his spare time he's in the national guard. (Ladies, the German bachelors are a fantastic lot, if I do say so myself.) Anyways my work is fantastic and I love it there.

The food in the cafeteria is awesome. Also I stole that cup.

The city of Rostock is pretty big, nothing out of control, but like 200,000 people. I found the bar district, and may or may not have a favorite bar already. Also, north of town is a suburb (sort of) called Warnemünde. It's a beach town. Christoph, some of his friends, and I went there on Sunday. It was bitterly cold, as expected, but still there were loads of people there for a 10° day. I'm excited to see how it looks in the summer, I heard there's a nude beach...

My dorm is a shared apartment, which I shared with a German named Matthias and a Palestinian named Hani. I thought Hani's name was “Honey” for the longest time. Lemme tell you, it's really bizarre when you meet someone and right away he tells you to call him Honey. Also my apartment is huge, and it took me some thinking to figure out why. I finally solved the puzzle when I was in the bathroom. Nothing immodest, we have the handicapped apartment and so our bathroom is tricked out with all kinds of guard rails and emergency call buttons. That was what tipped me off. Also the doors are super wide and we are on the first floor. I really hope there aren't any poor students in wheel-chairs living on the third floor someone because of me.

I found this little gem near the grocery store. Big Long Asia....too easy.

So, all in all I could not be happier with my current placement, and if any of you readers are from Rostock (I highly doubt this) I'm gladly taking suggestions of new things to do, see, and try in the city.

die Atzen

Today's word is particularly fitting, if I do say so myself. „Atze" is a slang word from the Berlinerisch dialect. It means anything from brother or bro to fella or pal. The plural is Atzen. This weekend I got to go see my Atzen in Berlin!

Actually I went specifically to see a Cirque du Soleil show that is touring through Europe, and my friends also happened to be in Berlin for the weekend. Erm, I mean, uhh, I went for the sole purpose of seeing them, nothing self serving whatsoever. Gracia, Sergio, and Jennifer live in Berlin. Clayton and Joe, the Madgebrothers, live in Madgeburg, Adam is in Kassel, and Andrea is in Dresden, and we all met up in Berlin.

I am actually in the middle of a Berlin streak. I'm going to Berlin again next weekend and I'll have seen some more sights by the next time I post. I think I'll divide it up so that this post is about Berlin the city and the next post will be about Berlin the tourist location. Sound good?

If you just consider the cities proper, without the metro areas, Berlin is the largest city I've ever set foot in. I ended up liking it a lot more than I expected to. My only previous exposure to Berlin was the Peter Fox song Schwarz zu Blau (below, and just ignore the ape motif, it's too complicated to explain). Granted, Peter Fox is a rapper, so it sort of pays to exaggerate the poverty and criminality of your hometown. You don't hear many rappers reppin' the Hamptons, do you?

But in contrast to the line from the song which goes:

(German) Guten Morgen Berlin,
Du kannst so hässlich sein, so dreckig und grau,
du kannst so schön schrecklich sein,
Deine Nächte fressen mich auf

(English) Good Morning Berlin,
You can be so ugly, so dirty and gloomy,
You can be so beautifully appalling,
Your nights devour me.

I find my opinion of Berlin more in keeping with the quote from the Berlin Mayor „Berlin is poor, but sexy." Yes, he actually said that, and it's become a sort of slogan for Berlin. To be sure, parts of Berlin are dirty as hell, and I wouldn't call it the most beautiful city I've ever visited. Still, something about Berlin fascinates me. A large part of my fascination is the size of Berlin. All you have to do is hop on the S-Bahn, ride for 10 minutes, and you can completely change your impression of Berlin.

Another part of my fascination is the history in Berlin. I don't mean the history you find in museums, though there is plenty of that. I mean, when you walk into an apartment building in Berlin, you quickly realize that this building was there during the Civil War and that there was a family living here when WWII broke out. And since the houses have changed so little architecturally, it's very easy to picture the children running down the stairs 100 years ago to get to school in the morning. Everywhere in Berlin I was struck with this feeling of raw history.

I took a picture, and now that I'm writing this, I realize that it makes a point very well for me. I took the picture last weekend. On the left you can see The Berlin Cathedral, which was build in 1451. On the right-hand side, you can see the Fernsehturm (TV Tower) which was built in the DDR in the 60s, and in the middle, there is the Humboldt Box, which opened this year and is...wait for it....another museum! These three represent very well the ridiculously long history of Berlin, the almost depressing recent history of Berlin, and the bright current times in Berlin.

At this point I am more than a little in love with Berlin and I cannot wait to get back there on Friday.

To close, I'll leave you with another part of the song from above:

(German) Diese Stadt ist eben doch gar nicht so hart wie du denkst.
(English) This city is simply not as tough as you think.

Der Mensch ist ein Gewohnheitstier

Today's word is actually a proverb and it means “Man is a creature of habit.” Well literally Gewohnheitstier means something like a “habit animal,” but you get the point.

I was in Germany in 2008 as an exchange student in Tübingen and I had a dorm very much like my current dorm in Neubrandenburg. My old dorm had a German ghost (the chick was literally never there), a Belgian whose name was something like Korneel, but the R was rolled in the back of your throat and the “ee” was more of an “eh”. Anyways, I made it a point to speak to him only one-on-one so I didn't have to say his name. Finally, we had an Italian guy named Roberto, and I could have written pages about the number of Italian stereotypes that are absolutely true.

In my new dorm, I have a German who is very tall. I don't know how it is for typical height people to see me, but I figured it was nothing special. Then I met Thomas, and all I wanted him to do was sit down. My other roommate is Hungarian and named Zoltán. When I met him, I really didn't care if he sat or stood, but I wanted him to tell my fortune to me. See, I confuse Zoltán and Zoltar:

Unlike my old Guest Oma's house, I'm totally able to take pictures of this one. So lemme show you why I titled this post like I did; I'll show you side-by-side pictures of my old dorm in Tübingen and my new one in Neubrandenburg:

(Old is on the left)

So, I'm clearly falling into some old habits. I have, however, noticed a few key differences though. First and foremost, I speak significantly less English than I did in Tübingen. Basically, unless someone asks me what an English word is, I speak no English in a day. Granted I still Facebook, Skype (occasionally), and read in English, but I'm getting the feeling that I'll sound like an immigrant when I return to the States.

I also enjoy my classes a lot more in Neubrandenburg. They are a lot more engaging, and since I'm at a University of Applied Sciences they offer much more specific courses. So far I'm taking:

Environmental Politics (Umweltpolitik),

Environmentally Friendly Plant Production (umweltschonende Pflanzenproduktion),

Basic Crop Farming (grundlage Pflanzenbau),
Special Crop Farming (spezieller Pflanzenbau),

Special Genetic Technology (spezieller Gentechnologie),

Agricultural Ecology (Landwirtschaftsökologie), and last but not least,

Polish (Polnisch)

I decided on Polish mostly because in language classes you have a lot more partner work so you can meet more Germans, which is good. There is also the added bonus that because the teacher is teaching a language, she speaks really simple German. It's also an ego boost for me; all around me I see the German students speaking with ease to the teacher and asking hard-hitting questions, but when they speak Polish, they suck as much as I do.

So, that's where I'm at after exactly one week in Neubrandenburg. Let me know if you want me to talk about anything special in my blog. I mean, if you are just dying to know how the grocery store looks, how waiters act, or anything specific sent me a message on Facebook or an email or leave a comment. If I don't know about it, it'll be a fun opportunity to research something here.

der Ossi

The word Ossi is the, often derogatory, term for an east German person. I must admit that before I came here, I was slightly apprehensive about being in East Germany. Most of this was my own prejudice. All I knew about East Germany was that Dresden was firebombed out of existence, bananas were a luxury, and everyone speaks Russian.

Another part of my apprehension was the West Germans. It's like in the US, when everyone says that people from Arkansas are so inbred that the entire state only has 3 last names. Or how we joke that California girls (while unforgettable) are superficial, fake-tanned, and perpetually searching for “the after party.” We all sort of know that the people aren't like that, but we joke about the stereotypes because we all know them and it's all just in fun.

I told one German that I was going to East Germany and his next questions was if I had ever learned any fighting sports. I've also watched the movie “Goodbye, Lenin” more times that I can count. Needless to say, my thoughts one East Germany were not the best.

I got to Neubrandenburg about 24 hours ago and really expected to find 1950's style Soviet tenements everywhere. I'm still waiting. I walked out of the train station and was ready to practice my Russia alphabet skills, but everything is in German. I figured I'd have to ask an old woman in a head scarf for directions, but I haven't seen one yet.

I didn't realize I was prejudiced against the East Germans until I found myself always looking around to have these stereotypes confirmed only to have them disproven by the hour. I asked one German girl how long she'd learned Russian, and she doesn't speak a stick of it. I found myself comparing the prices of bananas in the store here to back in Radolfzell; they're the same price. It is shocking to realize you have a prejudice, and it's also really hard to unlearn. I honestly have to say that I still sort of expect the people to be corrupt or lazy like all the West German jokes and films portray them, and this is going to be hard for me to stop expecting.

I don't think I'm going to give my first impressions on Neubrandenburg just yet because I've realized how biased it is. I mean, this is a cool city. My roommates name is, I think, Zoltan, and there is a tattoo convention next week in town. I promise not to get inked. But all things considered I really don't think I could give unbiased social or cultural commentary at this point. Give me some time to stop expecting a parade of tanks and ICBMs to come rolling down the street first.

However, I have to say that some stereotypes are at least partially based in fact. When I got into the cab, the three girls that picked me up started speaking Russian in the backseat. And when the cab driver wrote the receipt for the ride, he wrote it to say that we paid more than we really had so we'd get reimbursed more. Some of the stereotypes are fun and funny, but I'm more wary about how the others that I've learned will affect me.