Thank you and Goodbye - Herzlichen Dank und Auf Wiedersehen

In the end all I have are “thank yous.” Thank you, thank you, thank you. To my family for the endless support, love, and visits. To my friends for talking at strange hours and a wonderful amount of mail. To April, Aubrey Anne, Margo, Meredith, Maria, Liz, Lane, and Brian for putting in the long hours to explore Europe with me. To the new "Freunde" I made this year despite language difficulties. To Martha and Bernd for things previously mentioned. To Marko and Julia for errands, great conversation, and delicious food. To Ben and Tom for lessons in German and showing me that boys really are more fun. To Cara for being patient with me. To Christof for tortellini salad and liking me despite my neutral views on soccer. To Sandra for more things than I can list, but must include high heels and being one of the most caring friends I’ve ever had. And to my Mathis, for fake sneezes, a great sense of rhythm, and for always being the most important thing in any room. Thank you so much. 

After all of the trips to places I’ve dreamed of, coming back to Rheda-Wiedenbrück and the Niemeier’s never felt like the end of an adventure, just a continuation. I’m starting to learn that maybe that’s what really living is all about. Since being back in America, someone told me that the damage done in one year can take a lifetime to correct. Man, wouldn't that be nice? Here’s to hoping so. 

MOROCCO AND BARCELONA

Even though thinking about this trip causes a strange reaction of pains in my stomach, I am valiantly pushing through to bring you this (late) blog post! I am back stateside and spending time with my family at the beach, which oddly doesn’t feel unusual at all. I can’t believe it’s been a whole week since I left Germany. 

To start where I should, on Saturday, July 2nd I met my mom in the Düsseldorf Airport, where we had close to five hours to kill before boarding a flight to Morocco. It was great to catch up with her and speak a lot of English, and before we knew it we were standing in the longest line in the world to get our boarding passes for Agadir. After hurrying through the security checks, worrying about being late for our flight, and a screw falling off of my mom’s suitcase (I shoved a rolled up sticker in the hole and it stayed the whole trip! Ginny the Engineer!), we were on the plane to the coast of Morocco. The trip turned out to be 3 1/2 hours and not 2 1/2 because of those sneaky time changes, but we got served a meal on board, which turned out to be gross. Full of surprises, this trip! There were male twins around eight wearing matching leather jackets and reflective sunglasses the entire plane ride, and that helped. Once landing we exchanged US Dollars to Durhams, making us feel rich until our taxi ride to the hotel on the beach cost 170 of them. Our hotel’s theme of “Moroccan  Eloquence meets French Style” was easy to see with the roses floating in water and huge, dark lamps illuminating the entrance way, but the whole place seemed a little Disneyland to me after the beauty of naturally aged and eloquent cities I’ve visited in Europe. They had comfortable beds and a TV with great movies like Taken, the perfect film to watch with your mother when you’ve dragged her to Africa. 

Mint tea when we arrived.

The way other side of the Atlantic.

Our hotel the first night.

The next day we took very nice air conditioned bus, leaving from a very dilapidated bus station, to Marrakesh. This provided a great opportunity for research into what to do once we got to Marrakesh, and is where I learned about “baraka”, a state of grace provided by the things you do. Apparently, they believe that the more you are in sync with your surroundings, others with pick up on your good vibes and life seems sweeter, a philosophy that I could really get behind. In our first moments in Marrakesh, we must have met a man whose “baraka” was down in the dumps, since he helpfully brought us a round about way to the door of our hostel and then demanded a larger tip. Our hostel was friendly, though, and sat us down with mint tea, informing us of things to do in the city and how to avoid scams. Plus, I found an air conditioning system in our room! We explored the first night and ended up eating at one of the numbered food stalls that appear around dusk in the main square, an UNESCO World Heritage Site. The grills were smoking everywhere, but the hamburger, kebabs, salsa, and bread were tasty. The eagerness for tips and forceful salesmanship was overwhelming for the first couple of days, with orange guys salesmen catcalling and stares in any direction we walked. My mom asked if I wanted a ring to wear on my wedding finger, but I doubt that would have helped anything. Women in burqas were everywhere, and while we were dresses conservatively, most of the women had cloth over their mouths, which seemed like the way to go after all of the male dominated behavior we were experiencing. Immediately upon arriving back at our hostel, we got online to look up the definition of the “third world.” We now know that Morocco is not a third world country. 

Grills in the main square. 

Inside our hostel in Marrakesh.

No one pays attention when they're written in
Arabic either. 

At breakfast the second day, the women working in our hostel offered to teach me how to make Moroccan crepes, which were very greasy but the hospitality was so swee that I jumped on the opportunity immediately. The rest of the day was filled with museums and site seeing, and I particularly like the Ali Ben Youssef Medersa, a school which taught the Quran to boys for hundreds of years. The mosaic tile work in these buildings was remarkable and inspiring. The food was also inspiring, and I loved the mix of roasted meats and fruit.  Probably related, around this time was when my stomach started feeling funny. Other things we did in Morocco while I was starting to get really sick: seeing a dead kitten in a pile of ruins, searching for natural henna that lasted only one day, haggling a lantern in the maze of souqs, and breaking the handle off of our room’s door when someone locked us in from the outside. We also went for a hammam,  a massage and a long steam followed by a woman who scrubs you with eucalyptus soap and a sandpaper glove. This is when I really started feeling bad and almost passed out from the heat in the spa. From then on, it was downhill and I ended up being sick for the entire night before we left for barcelona, with a fever, chills, aches, and stomach problems. Remember those unique food stalls where we ate the first night? Well right before sitting  down, a snake charmer aggressively followed us around, asking me to meet him and shake his hand. He wouldn’t back down, I touched his hand, we went to eat, and two days later, I found myself in that sickly predicament. 

Spices in the Souqs.

Medersa.

Mom at a Thai/Moroccan restaurant.

With the care of my mom, we made it in a taxi, plane, bus, and subway to our hostel in Barcelona. It was so beautiful there, but Barcelona did not get enough attention from me  nor will it have enough blog time. I was so weak and our time was short, so the city feels like a blur to me. We ate delicious food, visited all of the important Gaudí architecture sites including La Sagrada Familia with some of the most beautiful stained glass I’ve ever seen, and I saw some of my favorite works of art in the Picasso Museum. I loved the buildings that held the museum and the emphasis on Picasso’s early work and blue period pieces, much better than this later work in my opinion. 

Barcelona at dusk.

Drinking juice and trying not to die. 

La Sagrada Familia

Gaudí's Park Güell

Gaudí architecture. 

Water.

By the time we got back to Germany, it was Mathis’ first birthday! Of course it was wonderful to see all of the family and friends that meant so much to me throughout Mathis’ first year, and the English! Everyone spoke such great English with my Mom, which once again, was the first time I’d heard most of the guests speak any English. Unfair. My very last day in Germany was taken up by a trip to the hospital. I still couldn’t get over my stomach sickness, and by Sunday I was so exhausted that I started crying at breakfast. That was enough to terrify everyone in the house and it was decided I needed to see a doctor. The wonderful thing about Germany is that we were in to see the doctor and out within minutes, and I had four medicines to get rid of whatever bacteria was living in my stomach within the hour. I still can’t believe I “forgot” the papers we needed to give the doctor and how we found them later in the car that we took the hospital, but I’m blaming it on the disease.  We ate pizza with everyone for dinner, and I went to sleep before Mathis on my last night in Germany. 

Mathis' new favorite place to climb into.

Little boys looking like big boys.

Ben is always essential in opening presents. 

So musical. 

I love this picture. 

Babies and Mommas. 

The Men.

Normal - Normal

Today is my last day of normal work. I use the word "normal" loosely, since I wouldn't consider any day with Mathis normal, but I should probably use the word "work" very loosely as well. Everyone always says that you should do what you like and it'll never feel like work, and this entire year was proof of that adage. I really felt like everyday was a chance for me to explore in such a beautiful place, and if Mathis wasn't crying and/or spitting up, he only enhanced the entire experience.


Even things that I became accustomed to as everyday conventions were remarkable in the beginning. Here's a quick list:

• There are no middle sheets here. The comforter fits into giant slipcovers that are interchangeable like pillow cases. 
• There are baking sheet racks for the oven. We don't own actual baking sheets, just two interchangeable racks and a normal rack that fit into the oven perfectly. Seeing it's frequency on my list, I'm now thinking that anything "interchangeable" is big in Germany. 
• Everything is in Celsius and measured by the metric system, making baking much more mathematical. 
• The German trash! While I struggled greatly in the beginning with the proper places for plastic, organic, and paper, it all makes so much sense now! When in doubt, it goes in the general trash bin. Except diapers, which have their own bin and trash pick up day.
• It all closes down on Sundays and religious holidays. You can't forget to go grocery shopping before a Sunday and Catholic holiday double whammy, or you're left without food! McDonalds, pizza delivery, and chinese are all open, though! 
• And bakeries. Bakeries are always, always open. I've grown so accustomed to fresh bread that I'm not sure what I'll do with the stuff that comes pre-sliced in a bag. Which brings me to my next point:
• No Wal-Marts! Weird, huh? I've gone almost a year of my life without visiting a superstore.
• There is no air conditioning, which is surprisingly OK. 
• Clothes choices for the weather are very different in Germany. There were many, many, many days when I would go out dressed totally different than everyone around me. And on the opposite side of this subject:
• Naked babies everywhere! All right, well not really everywhere, but parents are much more comfortable with their kids being naked at the public pool or the beach or a relative's house than any parent in America would be. 
• And finally, everyone speaks German here! I know it seems silly to state, but speaking in German is so standard for me now. I'm also used to everyone around me speaking something other than English. I can't imagine what it'll be like to go shopping for something (maybe in a Wal-Mart!) and not have to do a couple hours of intensive research in order to ask the attendant for exactly what I'm looking for, with the correct case and verb endings. Now that I think about it, they normally just respond in English anyway. 

Now back to packing! Thank goodness for the quality assistance - I could really use all the help I can get! 

The First Goodbye - Das Erste Aufwiedersehen

Well it's officially that time. The worst time. I have never been excellent with goodbyes and always am left with something, in hindsight, that I'd wish I'd said more eloquently. This is making me especially nervous for my German goodbyes, considering that they're in German and that whole German-is-my-second-language thing. 


Martha and Bernd left this week for their four week vacation in Italy (which they say as if it's nothing), meaning the first round of goodbyes happened sooner than I'd expected. I grilled hamburgers in order to send them on their trip the right way. Bernd ate his open-faced with raw onions and curry ketchup, using a knife and fork. I am really going to miss him.  In the first German months, I basically lived by the golden rule: When the language comprehension gets tough, go and sit by Bernd. From our multiple (and relatively silent) trips to the Post Office to pick up the illegal American packages my parents were attempting to send, to stalling out multiple times during stick-shift lessons on Bernd's choice of the busiest road in Rheda-Wiedenbrück, it will be beyond hard to forget him, especially with the picture of his black and blue nose after Oktoberfest engraved in my mind. 


Martha had the fantastic ability throughout my entire stay of never making me feel like an outsider. From my first day, the hand motions were set into action and they honestly never stopped. I mean, the funniest morning so far in my life was spent with her, half-naked in the living room after falling into a giant puddle with the stroller. Without Martha, her wonderful ways with her grandchildren, and her willingness to babysit, I would have never been about to travel as much as I was able to this year, and for that, a large amount of credit for a the well-traveled person I am today is owed to her. 


Thank you both for being so wonderful to me. While y'all are laying on the beach in Italy, the rain is pouring down here, and I had abundant time to make a Mathis video! This one's for you.

One Month From Today - Ein Monat von Heute

Can you believe it? Exactly one month from today I will be back in the United States. Even while I'm writing this, I really can not grasp the reality of the situation. I feel like there is so much to do. I feel like I have already done so much. I feel like no time has passed. I feel years older. I feel excited, optimistic, and fun like I was when I was younger. I feel like I have experienced a lifetime of escapades that before I could have never imagined.

I am so excited about coming home! I've even been listening to large amounts of Lynyrd Skynyrd in preparation. I'm not sure I will ever be able to completely take in how important this year has been to me.  I found a quote the other day that I can't stop relating to my year here.

“Some people come into our lives and quickly go. Some stay for awhile and leave footprints on our hearts. And we are never, ever the same.”

Plus, who could forget to keep this cute face with them for always?

PARIS, FRANCE

Well, Paris is beautiful.  Also smelly, but no one seems to mention that part of the city, and it is easily forgotten with the beautiful sites on every corner. Brian and I took the train to Paris, and quickly figured out the Metro system in order to get to the apartment we were renting. After two security codes and quite a lot of stairs, we found ourselves in the most adorable one bedroom apartment with wooden beams and a lofted bed. I loved it immediately. Because we were only spending 2 nights and 3 days in the city, I wanted to make the most of our time, so we walked straight to the Louvre. The art museum is unbelievably large, and our plan to start at the top and work ourselves down was turned a hour later into finding the Mona Lisa and high tailing it out of there! I was so frustrated by the swarms of people around that one painting that I wanted to yell at everyone, “Stop shoving yourself to the front of the lines to take a picture, and look at the painting! Is anyone actually looking at this painting?!” I refused to take a picture of her, strictly out of spite.

The stairs leading up to our apartment!

the Louvre!

We walked along the expensive shopping streets, ate crepes in the park, and strolled by the Seine River in order to get to the Eiffel Tower. It was so strange to be in front of the symbol of Paris, which I could have recognized at the age of 5, thanks to "Madeline". To actually see with my own two eyes was hard to take in, so Brian and I laid on the lawn in front of the Tower for awhile, taking pictures and avoiding the strange foreign men selling miniature versions of the icon. That evening, we trusted our guidebook and ate at a fantastic outdoor restaurant serving typical French cuisine. Oh, and we also shared two desserts (aka I ate both of them), one being the most perfect, extremely wonderful, greatest chocolate mousse that I will ever eat in my entire life. 

Lovely, lovely Paris.

We found her!

Brian taking good pictures!

I love outdoor restaurants and great food!

On Thursday morning I woke up early, so I decided to wander the streets in search of breakfast. Where we stayed was so picturesque, and it was easy to find a bakery for croissants and a street grocer for fresh cherries. The New Europe Free Walking Tour was on the agenda for day two, and we really enjoyed walking around and learning all about the important sites, as well as the lesser known tidbits about Paris. We took a quick look at Montemare, the Parisian neighborhood where Picasso used to hang out, but we scared by the cheap, aggressive souvenir shops and headed back to our apartment for a rest before dinner. That night we went on a dinner boat cruise, and it was so fun to drink wine, eat a 5 star meal, and watch the sites float by. Our timing was perfect to go check out the top deck because we got to see the Eiffel Tower at night! I think I might like the nighttime Eiffel Tower the best!

View from our dinner cruise!

After cleaning the apartment and eating more croissants, we had a full schedule to keep for our last hours in Paris. Unfortunately, we didn’t factor in that every place on our list would have people lined up for hours outside. We tried to wait in a few of the lines, like outside of the Catacombs and Musée d’Orsay, but our impending train back to Germany made waiting in lines for hours not seem practical. We quickly changed plans, visiting the inside of the Notre Dame, wandering around weird interior the Pompidou, and grabbing a few baguettes before heading back to the train station. While Paris might have not turned out to be the “City of Love” for Brian and me, the little taste of the city was just enough to make me want to visit more! The French people were not rude and scary like Brian and I had predicted, of course the food is absolutely wonderful, and it was not so smelly all of the time.

Notre Dame

Cathedral in Montemare.

Yummy Eclair. 

Back in Germany, Brian was a great Au Pair assistant, and Mathis and I did our best to give him the real German experience. Once I slipped up and took Brian to see a movie in English, but a lot of times during his visit I would forget, turn to him, and say things in German, so I think it came out even in the end. We made one last American meal for the family (Sloppy Joes!), and on Thursday Brian was on his way back to America, hopefully without any E.coli. 

While you are waiting...

Hi! We are back from Paris and updates are on the way, but here is an adorable Mathis video to entertain while you wait!





More soon!

Strawberries and Rollar Blades - Erdbeeren und In-Line Skates

Lane took the trains all by herself back to Rheda-Wiedenbrück on Friday. After some shopping, we went back home and got ready for a fancy dinner that Christof and Sandra were treating us to that night. 

We all wore high heels! Well, not Christof.

The next morning we woke up, ate some cereal, and strapped on rollerblades. Yes, that is correct. Lane and I had planned on going strawberry picking on Saturday, but were thrown a curve ball when our bikes were in the shop. “No worries,” says Sandra, “You can take the in-line skates.” We were worried. After spending the greater part of the morning practicing and taking pictures in the backyard, we set off to the bank before skating to the strawberry field. Bad idea, seeing that the bank was located in Old Town Wiedenbrück, aka cobblestone galore. It also didn’t help that we were skating with a big purse and an empty bucket for our strawberries, but we made it to the bank with only two wipe outs. After sitting outside of the bank and removing our skates, we went in wearing socks, keypads, and wrist guards. Money in hand, we skated to the strawberry field, which was actually very nice and easy to get to, and picked strawberries for probably around 4 minutes. When our bucket was full, we went to pay. 3.17 Euros. We had triple that before our disastrous trip to the bank. Who knew strawberry picking was so fun and so cheap!? Plus, we learned that Mathis loves strawberries as well.

Blading is serious business. Safety is also. Please note the safety gear.

Finally made it to the bank!

Taking off our skates so we can go inside.

The cobblestones were problematic. 

We made it to the strawberry field!

Skating back with our strawberries.

We were proud.

Mathis and Lane excited to eat!

We babysat that night and baked a German chocolate cake for Martha's birthday on Sunday. They had never heard of it. Right as we were commenting how problem less and calm Lane’s trip had been, she just happened to check one of her flights which just happened to be cancelled. After some minor panicking they found her a flight an hour earlier and added another stop to her trip, coming to a grand total of six airports in 24 hours. We woke up at 3:30am and I drove (stick shift!) to Düsseldorf with Sandra. Man, I really loved having Lane here. I can’t wait to come visit her in Maryland when I get back to the States. 

Speaking of visitors, Brian is supposed to be landing in Düsseldorf on Friday. Here’s to hoping this volcano in Iceland doesn’t get in his way! 

CROATIA! - Part Two

Many steep hills later, we found Lapad, the subdivision of Dubrovnik where we were staying, but we couldn’t find out actual hostel. We parked on a street we could find, and hiked up the steep stairs connecting the streets that we would come to love. A friendly homeowner who could speak surprisingly great English pointed us in the right direction, and we found the hostel owner in the street waiting to greet us. We was busy at the moment, but told us her son would drive with one of us to our assigned parking spot. She called him, pointed over out shoulders, and we turned, expecting to see a gorgeous  and tan Croatian God like in the films.  Instead, a lanky smoker in his nascar hat shook our hands, asked furiously who the driver was, and I marched off behind him to the car, practically running to keep up. We ran out of things to talk about on the first set of stairs, but stopped often to have loud arguments with the neighbors. He asked for the keys, I sat in the passenger seat, and we were off. Only then did I remember how it isn’t the best idea to give your car keys to complete strangers, and then free willingly get in the car with them. Whoops. He had a lot to say when we started driving, though, and he made a big loop, shouting out all of the important things to see and know, in between shouting at people on the street that he knew or hated. I couldn’t tell. Lots of shouting.

Back at the hostel, I decided against all of the son’s suggestions except for food recommendations, which all were delicious in the end. After pizza and pasta for dinner, a trip to the Lapad side of the Adriatic, and a bus to the Old Town, we found quite possibly the most scenic bar in the world. Back alleys led us to a doorway through to the other side of the Old City Walls, and we enjoyed Croatian beer on rocks facing the Adriatic. A really fun jazz bar paired with drunken British men dancing about made for a great end to our first night in Dubrovnik. 

Clear Water and Sunset 

Lane's Idea to Get "In" the Adriatic

We woke up, ate freshly baked croissants, and made it to Old Town, which was a drastically different scene than the night before. A number of cruise ships had docked in Dubrovnik for the day and while the streets were completely packed, we immediately climbed up to the city walls, which felt much more secluded. They are said to be the best preserved ancient city walls in existence, and they provided a beautiful view of the red roofs and the clear Adriatic. 

View from the Walls 

The bar outside the city walls from the night before.

Red roofs of Old Town

Loving every minute!

After some wandering and souvenir shopping, we ate Bosnian food for lunch before jumping on the ferry to Lokrum, an island and nature reserve 15 minutes from Dubrovnik. Possibly the best decision of the day. Once we were off of the ferry (where we saw the guitarist from the jazz bar the night before!) we walked onto the trails and away from all people. The island felt so secluded and we found the most picturesque places to take pictures. After a peacock almost ate me, we found the perfect “cliffs” and bravely jumped into the freezing Adriatic. It was so unbelievably scenic that it was hard to really feel like we were there, but we have the jumping pictures to prove it!

Lane and I climbed up to these towers!

one million jumps later!

Told you it was a big rock! That's me in front, swinging my arms in terror.

After eating shrimp, squid, two types of fish, mussels, and mini octopus. 

Early the next morning we drove to the airport, I parked our lovely stick-shift car in the rental lot, and the weight of the world was lifted off of my shoulders. Then it all came crashing right back down on me when the Styx guy found a scratch on the back right side of the car, but we had insurance! Thank goodness for the insurance. Our flight to Berlin was relaxing, and after a short 6 hour stay in Germany’s capital, which included currywurst, a excellent free walking tour, and wonderful artist squat, we set ourselves on the train and tiredly headed home.