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18 October 2010
15 October 2010
New City, New Blog
To whoever still checks this:
It is now becoming obsolete. As of,
right now.
(In an effort to really blog I am creating a new blog on Tumblr for a Blogging NYC creative writing class/workshop. I will post the new URL very soon. So check it out! And stop checking this one. Germany is so over.)
04 September 2010
In Conclusion
I made it back to the States, as I'm sure you, whoever you are, have gathered.
I couldn't help but feel like the strings of this blog were just left loose, however. I thought I should do some tying up before the next chapter of life begins. Though I have been asked multiple times if this blog will continue. This is a valid question. We both know I won't be teaching English in Germany anymore. It may be safe to say even, "never again." Nevertheless, Germans or no Germans- I will write. So it is safe to say that this blog will remain. Changed, yes, very much so in fact. I have serious doubts that I will ever be writing about grumbling teenagers who smell like horse poop and can't be bothered to learn English.
I have hopes that the next entries of this blog will be positive, persuasive, perspicuous, prodigious and propitious, particularly because I have just moved to the city of New York.
But before I begin about Nueva York I want to bury some old bones.
After planning my escape from Yo Yo Camps I set off to Paris where I stayed with my lovely Aunt Sophie. Aunt Sophie has come to be my savior when Germany brings unpleasantries. I had a wonderful week in Paris and was able to see my cousins Simon and Basil. I also indulged in some incredible macaroons, French pastries and deliciously smelly cheese.
I did have to fly back to Berlin from Paris to catch my flight home from Berlin to D.C. This was unfortunate, as I had to sleep in the airport. But, I was with friends and we set up camp and spent the night making friendship bracelets and playing banana grams (camp counselors for life!). I don't have any concluding remarks about this Yo Yo summer. I should come up with something though, right?
I learned some things. I have a new appreciation and love for the city of Berlin. I met some great people. I lost a lot of money. I also lost a couple pairs of socks/underwear which are now in some massive trash heap outside of Prague.
And now I am in New York City, at Barnard College. Please, don't ask me what I'm majoring in.
So, you, whoever you are you, keep checking in. I'll write. I may even meet some Germans here in the Big Apple, if I'm lucky!
10 August 2010
On An Island
Last week of camp! I'm in Potsdam on what I was told was an island. It's more of a piece of land that juts out into water, but beautiful nonetheless. And frankly, I'm happy to call it an island.
Camp on an island in Potsdam? Yes. What could be better, you ask. Well, we share the house with mentally handicapped people who are bussed in on a little white bus every morning. We have quite the mixture of people here on this island, really. It could be the setting for a horror movie, actually. Stuck on an island with German children and mentally retarded adults. Who will be the first to go? If I have any say in this it would be THE CHILDREN.
On another note entirely: Daniel, my fellow counselor, and I have become quite industrious. Here we are, on this island, not earning much money (at all) and not anywhere near a grocery store. Hungry and moneyless as we are, we have 3 options:
Option A: Starve/Only eat the hot lunch delivered everyday. Starchy bow tie pasta has its bounds...and they are not wide
Option B: Spend money on food. Also, not the best option.
Option C: The Children. (Yes, I mean eat the children). Let's go with C
Option C goes something like this:
"Hey, kids. Tomorrow we are going to have a Pajama Pancake Party! That means everyone needs to bring in ingredients for pancakes tomorrow. What do we need to make pancakes? Well, about a 100 eggs and lots of blueberries and bananas and then some other stuff."
Too many eggs, you say? You have never been stuck on an island as a Yo Yo Camp counselor.
Result: A delicious breakfast of American pancakes and Wednesday, Thursday and Friday's fair share of eggs and blueberries.
Friday is my birthday, so that requires a party. No party is complete without food.
Depending on the food supply, Thursday is also a good party day.
Friday, in addition to being my "birthday" is also my last day of work. Rest assured, Friday there will be a party.
09 August 2010
Burrrrlin.
Photographs from two weeks of camp in Berlin:
luis, shaving cream fight
cappuccino outside my window
storefront, prenzlauer berg08 August 2010
05 August 2010
The Night/Day to Remember. Or Not.
I don't exactly know how to write what it is I'm about to write.
It's crazy. And I'm also functioning on 2 1/2 hours of sleep. Here is why:
Wednesday, 4 August 2010:
20:30 Lost in Prague. Again. Looking for the enorous clocktower where the epic Bar Crawl is supposed to begin.
20:45 Find the clocktower. Also find a sturdy Romanian man with a green umbrella that says "Bar Crawl: The Best Night You'll Never Remember" Yes, we've got to follow the sturdy Romanian with the bandaged nose.
20:45 Romanian man takes my 3 American girl friends and I in addition to a few British chaps to a nice looking restaurant near the clocktower. He opens a door next to the restaurant and proceeds to lead us up 6 narrow staircases. Yes, at one point I did think he was going to kill us.
20:45-4:00 am, 5 August 2010 Sangria. Beer. Absinth. Rum. Vodka. Rum. Dancing. German boys. This is all to say, the Bar Crawl began. In reality I only crawled to 2 bars, and staying at the 2nd one for maybe 3 minutes. Also, I did not crawl anywhere. We began in a huge, open room with a view of the city. We drank Sangria out of a giant trash can and watched Americans play Beer Pong (this may be the only reason they came in the first place). There were maybe a hundred people and an endless supply of the aforementioned alcohol. After 2 hours of mingling and drinking we were lead a few flights down to drink some more. Finally, don't ask me when, we were walking to ur first bar. More of the same. One free shot of terrible vodka. I also made it to the second bar with Christina, one of the 3 girls in our little group.
4:00-5:30 Detour. Also, Baguettes and Barcelona Boys.
5:30 Trying to navigate my way, along with Christina, back to the hostel. Also, starving. Meet sexist Dutch people who tell us girls can't navigate, and rude English men who ask if we want to go to a club. "Ummm, it's 5:30 in the morning. You're a little late buddy." The food situation is unfortunate, particularly for 2 vegetarians: Anywhere that sells food and is open at 5:30 in the morning does NOT sell vegetarian food. Not even McDonalds. Luckily we sight a Subway and bolt.
6:00-8:30 Sleep- at my friend's hostel as it is much nicer. (Read: "St. Christopher's Inn at the Mosaic House vs. Chili Hostel")
10:00 Go back to Chili for some clothes. Backpack is GONE. sleeping bag, towel, cheap sunglasses, letter- all there. Backpack with my entire wardrobe- not there.
10:15 FREAK OUT. Discover that lots of people have had stuff stolen that night. Front desk man tells me to look in the toilet. This isn't even the same front desk man that rolls joints and wears Ghostbusters T shirts (He also wears a green computer chip as a necklace).
11:00 Report to the Czech Police. Get yelled at in Czech. Actually, "yell" is not the right word. I am grunted at. As if I don't speak a language at all, I can only understand animal noises and gestures. I'm sorry, but if you recognize that I am a foreigner and at the police station I am probably not having a great time. So, be nice! After I am squawked at, I am told that there is only ONE translator and in order to file a report I need to wait for her to show up. "Come back at 13:00. If you are late, she goes."
13:00 Get lost finding police station
13:15-15:15 Wait. Wait. Wait. Meet nice Dutch boys staying at Chili Hostel whose passports were stolen. After telling them about my no clothes situation one of them looks at me very seriously and says, "At least you were wearing clothes." Touche. Get yelled at in Czech again. Wait. Wait. File the report. Give exact descriptions of clothing articles and bag. Over TWO HOURS to file this report. I get up to leave and ask, "Okay, so what do I do now? You will call me if you find something?" Terrible Translator's response: "How would they know what it looks like? You should call your insurance company. Also, lock your door."
15:15 EXPLODE. I have just wasted my LAST day in Prague filing a USELESS report.
15:30 Check in at Chili Hostel to see if there is any news. Man at the front desk says, "No, sorry. You come back again. 2 Hours." Explosion is turning into despression...and then..."Wait, you lost a whole bag, no?" "Yes..." "What color?" "Red..." "Okay." He walks to the back room and holds up my bag. It's empty. The bottom is sopping wet. He tells me the housekeeper found it today in the toilet. Every zipper has been unzipped, every pocket opened. Everything is gone. "WHERE ARE MY CLOTHES?!"
15:45 The housekeeper brings down a grocery bag containing a few articles of my clothing. She talks to me in Czech. Man at the front desk explains she found these clothes in the trash can on a different floor. "Well, are there more?!!" There are more. All the trash cans have been collected and emptied into the dumpster outside. So, the search begins as I rip open trash bags and sort through all kinds of garbage looking for my clothes and journals. Awesome. I am in the middle of Prague going through the Chili Hostel dumpster looking for my own clothes and old journals.
16:00 After recovering almost everything, I am feeling relieved. And smelly. I now have my bag, stinking of toilet and my foul-smelling clothes. But what was lost is now found. And also in the washing machine the Hostel offered me.
16:53 Time to go get my laundry and get the hell outta Prague.
It's crazy. And I'm also functioning on 2 1/2 hours of sleep. Here is why:
Wednesday, 4 August 2010:
20:30 Lost in Prague. Again. Looking for the enorous clocktower where the epic Bar Crawl is supposed to begin.
20:45 Find the clocktower. Also find a sturdy Romanian man with a green umbrella that says "Bar Crawl: The Best Night You'll Never Remember" Yes, we've got to follow the sturdy Romanian with the bandaged nose.
20:45 Romanian man takes my 3 American girl friends and I in addition to a few British chaps to a nice looking restaurant near the clocktower. He opens a door next to the restaurant and proceeds to lead us up 6 narrow staircases. Yes, at one point I did think he was going to kill us.
20:45-4:00 am, 5 August 2010 Sangria. Beer. Absinth. Rum. Vodka. Rum. Dancing. German boys. This is all to say, the Bar Crawl began. In reality I only crawled to 2 bars, and staying at the 2nd one for maybe 3 minutes. Also, I did not crawl anywhere. We began in a huge, open room with a view of the city. We drank Sangria out of a giant trash can and watched Americans play Beer Pong (this may be the only reason they came in the first place). There were maybe a hundred people and an endless supply of the aforementioned alcohol. After 2 hours of mingling and drinking we were lead a few flights down to drink some more. Finally, don't ask me when, we were walking to ur first bar. More of the same. One free shot of terrible vodka. I also made it to the second bar with Christina, one of the 3 girls in our little group.
4:00-5:30 Detour. Also, Baguettes and Barcelona Boys.
5:30 Trying to navigate my way, along with Christina, back to the hostel. Also, starving. Meet sexist Dutch people who tell us girls can't navigate, and rude English men who ask if we want to go to a club. "Ummm, it's 5:30 in the morning. You're a little late buddy." The food situation is unfortunate, particularly for 2 vegetarians: Anywhere that sells food and is open at 5:30 in the morning does NOT sell vegetarian food. Not even McDonalds. Luckily we sight a Subway and bolt.
6:00-8:30 Sleep- at my friend's hostel as it is much nicer. (Read: "St. Christopher's Inn at the Mosaic House vs. Chili Hostel")
10:00 Go back to Chili for some clothes. Backpack is GONE. sleeping bag, towel, cheap sunglasses, letter- all there. Backpack with my entire wardrobe- not there.
10:15 FREAK OUT. Discover that lots of people have had stuff stolen that night. Front desk man tells me to look in the toilet. This isn't even the same front desk man that rolls joints and wears Ghostbusters T shirts (He also wears a green computer chip as a necklace).
11:00 Report to the Czech Police. Get yelled at in Czech. Actually, "yell" is not the right word. I am grunted at. As if I don't speak a language at all, I can only understand animal noises and gestures. I'm sorry, but if you recognize that I am a foreigner and at the police station I am probably not having a great time. So, be nice! After I am squawked at, I am told that there is only ONE translator and in order to file a report I need to wait for her to show up. "Come back at 13:00. If you are late, she goes."
13:00 Get lost finding police station
13:15-15:15 Wait. Wait. Wait. Meet nice Dutch boys staying at Chili Hostel whose passports were stolen. After telling them about my no clothes situation one of them looks at me very seriously and says, "At least you were wearing clothes." Touche. Get yelled at in Czech again. Wait. Wait. File the report. Give exact descriptions of clothing articles and bag. Over TWO HOURS to file this report. I get up to leave and ask, "Okay, so what do I do now? You will call me if you find something?" Terrible Translator's response: "How would they know what it looks like? You should call your insurance company. Also, lock your door."
15:15 EXPLODE. I have just wasted my LAST day in Prague filing a USELESS report.
15:30 Check in at Chili Hostel to see if there is any news. Man at the front desk says, "No, sorry. You come back again. 2 Hours." Explosion is turning into despression...and then..."Wait, you lost a whole bag, no?" "Yes..." "What color?" "Red..." "Okay." He walks to the back room and holds up my bag. It's empty. The bottom is sopping wet. He tells me the housekeeper found it today in the toilet. Every zipper has been unzipped, every pocket opened. Everything is gone. "WHERE ARE MY CLOTHES?!"
15:45 The housekeeper brings down a grocery bag containing a few articles of my clothing. She talks to me in Czech. Man at the front desk explains she found these clothes in the trash can on a different floor. "Well, are there more?!!" There are more. All the trash cans have been collected and emptied into the dumpster outside. So, the search begins as I rip open trash bags and sort through all kinds of garbage looking for my clothes and journals. Awesome. I am in the middle of Prague going through the Chili Hostel dumpster looking for my own clothes and old journals.
16:00 After recovering almost everything, I am feeling relieved. And smelly. I now have my bag, stinking of toilet and my foul-smelling clothes. But what was lost is now found. And also in the washing machine the Hostel offered me.
16:53 Time to go get my laundry and get the hell outta Prague.
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