Okay, are you familiar with the game "two truths and a lie"? Really a pretty boring game, but it serves its purpose. The rules are simple: out of three given statements, two are true, and one is a lie (coincidentally, the description of the game is quite similar to its name). The object of this game is to guess which statement is a lie. Ready? Here they are:
1. My Sprachkurs professor is incompetent.
2. I am anxious to explore the continent and restless to finish the semester.
3. The weather here sucks.
Mkay, well, the first two are true - Sprachkurs A is so frustrating! The professor is incompetent and often rude to students. She gives us worksheets without explaining the grammar that it practices, and then gets angry when students don't provide the correct answers. She is impatient to students who take longer to complete tests and often mishears (or rather ignores) correct responses and says that they are false. When the students are rather secure that their answer is indeed correct, some push the topic and others just tune out for the rest of the class period. To those who confront her, the professor is confrontational and defensive when forced to admit that she misheard. For the most part, all my other classes are great, but this class has, on many occasions, caused me to question whether it's really worth keeping the German major if I have to take this class. Hopefully the professor will develop competence as a teacher in the next few months, or perhaps I can find a way to switch to Sprachkurs B (which is taught by Christel, whom I adore AND who can teach very well).
Additionally, I cannot wait for the semester break - two months to travel. I want to go everywhere; my Wanderlust is insatiable. As it is, I'm trying to keep myself satisfied by taking walks (and photos) in the Englischer Garten and cooking spicy food (that is to say, pretending I'm in a culture that knows what to do with chilis). Plus, as my old camera died and I bought a new one a few weeks ago, I am trying to learn how to work with all the pretty buttons/settings it has. Unfortunately, my camera is far smarter than I, but hopefully it'll teach me if I just aim in the right direction and guess at some number settings.
The lie was the statement regarding the weather. It's beautiful right now - the sky is clear, the air is crisp, and it's just started to snow, so everything looks pristine and lovely. I don't know how pretty it will seem when it starts turning to sludge or when the ice makes me want to strap pillows all over my body to protect myself from the sidewalk... but for now, it's lovely.
18 November 2005
13 November 2005
We are Stupid AKA our Weekend in Prague
Praha, Czech Republic
PART I - GETTING THERE: Our weekend in Prague started out rather rockily. First off, we purchased a EURO-Domino ticket for the Czech Republic, which is a three-day ticket valid for all train travel within the Czech Republic. To get to the Czech Republic in the first place, we purchased a Bayern Ticket, which was valid to get us to the border. We looked at the Deutsch Bahn web site to find departure times for trains going from München to Prague (Prag in German, Praha in Czech). There was a regional train listed as leaving at around 11:20 that we could use with a Bayern Ticket. So we packed up our cameras, passports, journals, and a bit of food in our beloved (cheap but tiny) LMU backpacks, said goodbye to our loved ones (small dinner with Becky and Jay), and set off. We purchased and validated our Bayern Tickets at the Studentenstadt U-Bahn, so we wouldn't have to take our U-bahn cards with us.
We arrived triumphantly at the Hauptbahnhof (central train station), and marched over to the bulletin board to see what gate our train left from. 11:15...11:20...11:25.... No train to Prague. Confused, we walked over to an information booth and asked kindly where our train was. Apparently it didn't exist. There was a night ICE train that our Bayern Tickets wouldn't be valid for, which we could pay about 100 Euros to take, but other than that the next regional train to Prague would be leaving at 6:40 in the morning.
Annoyed, we fumed silently for a while at the lost time, and then realized another problem: our Bayern Tickets would no longer be valid after 3 AM. Refusing to waste 24 euros, we marched up to the reservations window, explained our situation to the kind attendant, and got our money promptly refunded, along with a profuse apology for the inconvenience.
In our dreams, that is. The attendant, apart from being an asshole in general, was very rude and unreceptive to our plight. He saw no reason that a Deutsch Bahn train listed by Deutsch Bahn on the Deutsch Bahn web site that didn't actually exist should be any fault of Deutsch Bahn's. He refused to refund our money, and waved us away. Frustrated, and thinking that perhaps there was a miscommunication, I asked if I could explain it again, this time in English. He promptly repeated HIS answer in English. (No no, you see, we understood YOUR German, sir, but you are being so ridiculously rude and anal, surely you must not have understood OURS). Such was not the case. He was, in fact, just rude and anal, in either language. The one positive thing we can take from this: we communicated perfectly well the first time around, in German. The many negative things need not be spelled out.
After this episode, we decided to camp out in the station's cafe and wait the night until our ACTUAL train arrived. Again, not a possibility afforded to us. The train station closed at one in the morning, at which point we relocated to the U-Bahn station downstairs, determined to spend the night there. However, as the trains kept going by, blowing cold air through the station and being generally noisy, neither Susan nor I could sleep. At about 2:30 we ended up returning to Studentenstadt to sleep for a few hours before returning to the train station yet again.
We met at 5:45, U-Bahn cards in hand this time, and did not validate our new Bayern Tickets until we arrived at the train station, checked that our train did in fact exist, and found the gate. We got on the train, and prepared to nap the many hours to Prague, when our tickets got checked almost immediately. I pulled out our new Bayern Ticket and handed it over. "This isn't valid for another half hour." Pardon? "The Bayern Ticket is not valid until 8 in the morning; this ticket does not work right now." I rolled my eyes slightly, fished around in my wallet for the old ticket, and handed it over saying, fine, we have the one from yesterday, too. "This ticket was only valid until 3AM." I stared at him blankly for a bit, certain that if I gave him some time, the absurdness of this would catch up with him. Day-long tickets valid until 3 AM, and the next day starts at 8 AM. I know I'm not a math major, but just in appearances, 3 is not 8. tres is not ocho, drei is not acht and why the hell does this ticket not work?!
Equally frustrated, Susan piped up, "Look, we have these Czech Republic tickets for most of our trip, we just need to get out of Bayern with this ticket; what do you want?" Apparently, the Czech Republic tickets, valid for all trains within the Czech Republic, purchased for our time in the Czech Republic, is valid for travel in Germany. We give up. We got our tickets stamped without any other problems, tucked both our useless Bayern Tickets into my wallet, and lay down to sleep. For all the Germans are stereotyped as logical and methodical, this is the most screwed up, counter-intuitive, and ridiculous set of rules for a train system I've ever seen. Bah. Onward to Prague.
We slept for a few hours, after which out tickets were checked again. Although there were no problems with the ticket, the woman who checked them informed us that the train would be splitting and if we wanted to go all the way to Prague, we'd have to move up by three cars. We thanked her, moved up, and went back to sleep. Then our tickets got checked again, and apparently the splitting point was not three cars away the first time, but rather we needed to move up another two trains. And quickly, as the trains would spit at the next stop. We moved and I ran off in search of a bathroom. Susan apparently lay down again, at which point the guy next to her asked if she wasn't getting off at the next stop. No, she replied, we were going to Prague. In this case, she was informed, we'd have to move up another few trains because this part of the train stayed at the next station. Susan waited until I returned, relayed the new information, and we ran up the train - about six cars further this time, for good measure. After this attempt, we ended up in the right place. The train separated, our part continued on, and very soon a pair of police officers came through the train asking for passports. Apparently we had crossed the border.
PART II - LANGUAGE DIFFICULTIES: Soon after our passports were checked, a man came through to check everyone's tickets again and we found ourselves surrounded by Czech. We understood the scenario, and therefore had no problem figuring out that the man with a uniform and date-stamp wanted to see our tickets, but it was the beginning of a new experience: neither of us had ever been in a country in which we were not competent (or accompanied by someone fully competent) in the language. Here, neither of us spoke Czech and, for all that people talk about how much English is spoken in Prague, we ran into a decent amount of people who spoke neither German nor English.
This scenario is at once frustrating and embarrassing. Between the two of us, we spoke five languages very competently, though rarely asked people about them. We'd normally ask first, "Sprechen Sie Deutsch?" (do you speak German) and, if met with a blank look or a negative answer, we'd continue, "oder Englisch?" as these two languages would seem the most likely to be common between us and Czech citizens. Besides which, it seems silly to just continue on, "oder Französisch? Italienisch? Spanisch?" because, although we could get by with these options, they were unlikely to be found in Prague and, at this point, grunts and gestures would be more efficient.
It was nice when people were able to speak German, mostly because it feels like a concession to me if I speak English abroad. It makes me feel like I have less control over the situation - I have to depend on their knowledge of a second language - and also it makes me feel... I don't know, guilty? Lazy? If I resort to my first language, even if I know German and Spanish, I feel that I'm projecting the image of an arrogant American traveler - "Why should I bother to learn a new language; everyone should speak mine". To be fair, Czech is only spoken in one small country and is, logically speaking, a rather large amount of time and effort for such a small visit, whereas French, German, Spanish, Russian, and Chinese are spoken by more people. But this reasoning isn't explained in every encounter. The only fact that is known is that I am in a country without any grasp of its language. Peinlich. (pitiable/pathetic).
PART III - OUR ARRIVAL: We arrived in Prague in the afternoon; withdrew money; deciphered the metro system; found a very nice, yet extremely affordable, hostel; dropped off our backpacks; and set out on a walk towards downtown. Our hostel was a long way from downtown, so we ended up walking for a few hours. We felt safe, and the view was gorgeous - we found the river Vltava and then followed it towards the double spires of the Altstadt Cathedral. It was long-since dark by the time we got there, and we pretty much just wandered aimlessly for a bit. We saw some of the shops selling wooden puppets and others selling gorgeous blown-glass creations, bought some delicious gelato, and, after a few hours, took the metro back to our hostel
PART IV - EXPLORING PRAGUE: The next morning, we set off to explore all of Prague. In order to have as much time to explore as possible, we took the metro to Nové Mêsto (new town) and from there walked through Malá Strana (Little Quarter) to Hradcany, the area around the Prague Castle. The castle itself was unspectacular, but the buildings around it, the park in Malá Strana that we went through, and especially the overviews of Prague were amazing. From there, we crossed the Karlov most (Charles Bridge), which is probably over-hyped but still quite lovely, to Staromêstské Nám, which is the old square.
When we arrived there, it was getting dark and quite cold, so we wanted to buy some Glühwine (German mulled wine) to keep us warm. We saw lots of signs advertising it, most of which said "Grog" then "Glühwine" then "Mulled Wine". As the last two were identical, we assumed that Grog was the Czech word for Glühwine. Feeling proud of this conclusion and culturally-sensitive for using the local name, we walked into a store with one of these signs and ordered two "Grog"s. Oh man. First off, if that is wine, I am blonde. And tall. And a man. This drink smelled so strong, we had to hold it at arms length to keep from choking on the stench. When we finally got up the courage to try the stuff, we made an interesting discovery. Grog is, in fact, not a word of Czech origins, but rather a form of onomatopoeia, as "GROG" is, loosely transcribed, the sound one makes upon ingesting the stuff. After it cooled off enough to be of use no longer in warming our hands (still at arms' length from our faces), we dumped the vile fluid (apparently tea and rum, according to a translation I've read since), and purchased two Glühwines at a food stand in the square. This made us warm and very very happy (see Susan with her Glühwine). We stayed to see the Astronomical Clock go off at five, and then headed back home.
Due to the fact that we did not end up paying to enter either the museum (no time) or the actual castle (no interest), we had much more money than we needed, as our train tickets were already paid for. We therefore bought Czech beers to bring for Becky and Jay, and went out to eat. We went to an Italian restaurant near our hostel The woman who greeted us spoke no English, but did speak a decent amount of German. She was very sweet and patient and we successfully ordered a (very delicious) meal. When we were done, a different waiter came to clear the dishes, and said something to us in Czech. We looked a bit lost, and then responded in German, to which he raised his eyebrows and shook his head while backing (slowly, slowly) away. Ugh, so peinlich. He talked to the nice German-speaking lady, who laughed and came over to our table again... so embarrassing to not be competent in the language! On the plus side, we spoke so much German (in attempts to communicate with Czech people as well as with each other) that I think my German has improved more here than it did in München!
PART V - KARLSTEJN: On our last day, we went to Karlstejn to see the castle there. It was great to wander through the town and through the castle grounds. I think Susan described it best, saying that the Bavarian castles like Neuschwanstein, Linderhof, and Nymphenburg, are too fairy-tale, too decorative. In contrast, the Karlstejn castle looked like a medieval castle is expected to look, which was an interesting site to witness.
After exploring the castle, I sat down outside the gates to wait for Susan and was passed by a group of three Eastern Europeans (I couldn't pinpoint the language past being slavic, but it may have actually been Czech). A woman and two men - a bit before reaching the gates, the woman called out something excitedly and gestured towards the gate. The two men stopped, sighed, rolled their eyes, linked arms, and posed as she took a picture. The expression that they gave at being forced to pose (yet again?)... I can just see this having happened all the way up the hill. I giggled at how this reaction transcends language, and also at the thought of what they'd be in for once they actually passed the gates. (Hee hee. Yes, I'm evil, but you would have laughed too if you'd been there.)
When we finished exploring Karlstejn, we headed back to Prague to catch the afternoon train back to München. Ticket difficulties on our first day aside, it was a great weekend!
We arrived triumphantly at the Hauptbahnhof (central train station), and marched over to the bulletin board to see what gate our train left from. 11:15...11:20...11:25.... No train to Prague. Confused, we walked over to an information booth and asked kindly where our train was. Apparently it didn't exist. There was a night ICE train that our Bayern Tickets wouldn't be valid for, which we could pay about 100 Euros to take, but other than that the next regional train to Prague would be leaving at 6:40 in the morning.
Annoyed, we fumed silently for a while at the lost time, and then realized another problem: our Bayern Tickets would no longer be valid after 3 AM. Refusing to waste 24 euros, we marched up to the reservations window, explained our situation to the kind attendant, and got our money promptly refunded, along with a profuse apology for the inconvenience.
In our dreams, that is. The attendant, apart from being an asshole in general, was very rude and unreceptive to our plight. He saw no reason that a Deutsch Bahn train listed by Deutsch Bahn on the Deutsch Bahn web site that didn't actually exist should be any fault of Deutsch Bahn's. He refused to refund our money, and waved us away. Frustrated, and thinking that perhaps there was a miscommunication, I asked if I could explain it again, this time in English. He promptly repeated HIS answer in English. (No no, you see, we understood YOUR German, sir, but you are being so ridiculously rude and anal, surely you must not have understood OURS). Such was not the case. He was, in fact, just rude and anal, in either language. The one positive thing we can take from this: we communicated perfectly well the first time around, in German. The many negative things need not be spelled out.
After this episode, we decided to camp out in the station's cafe and wait the night until our ACTUAL train arrived. Again, not a possibility afforded to us. The train station closed at one in the morning, at which point we relocated to the U-Bahn station downstairs, determined to spend the night there. However, as the trains kept going by, blowing cold air through the station and being generally noisy, neither Susan nor I could sleep. At about 2:30 we ended up returning to Studentenstadt to sleep for a few hours before returning to the train station yet again.
We met at 5:45, U-Bahn cards in hand this time, and did not validate our new Bayern Tickets until we arrived at the train station, checked that our train did in fact exist, and found the gate. We got on the train, and prepared to nap the many hours to Prague, when our tickets got checked almost immediately. I pulled out our new Bayern Ticket and handed it over. "This isn't valid for another half hour." Pardon? "The Bayern Ticket is not valid until 8 in the morning; this ticket does not work right now." I rolled my eyes slightly, fished around in my wallet for the old ticket, and handed it over saying, fine, we have the one from yesterday, too. "This ticket was only valid until 3AM." I stared at him blankly for a bit, certain that if I gave him some time, the absurdness of this would catch up with him. Day-long tickets valid until 3 AM, and the next day starts at 8 AM. I know I'm not a math major, but just in appearances, 3 is not 8. tres is not ocho, drei is not acht and why the hell does this ticket not work?!
Equally frustrated, Susan piped up, "Look, we have these Czech Republic tickets for most of our trip, we just need to get out of Bayern with this ticket; what do you want?" Apparently, the Czech Republic tickets, valid for all trains within the Czech Republic, purchased for our time in the Czech Republic, is valid for travel in Germany. We give up. We got our tickets stamped without any other problems, tucked both our useless Bayern Tickets into my wallet, and lay down to sleep. For all the Germans are stereotyped as logical and methodical, this is the most screwed up, counter-intuitive, and ridiculous set of rules for a train system I've ever seen. Bah. Onward to Prague.
We slept for a few hours, after which out tickets were checked again. Although there were no problems with the ticket, the woman who checked them informed us that the train would be splitting and if we wanted to go all the way to Prague, we'd have to move up by three cars. We thanked her, moved up, and went back to sleep. Then our tickets got checked again, and apparently the splitting point was not three cars away the first time, but rather we needed to move up another two trains. And quickly, as the trains would spit at the next stop. We moved and I ran off in search of a bathroom. Susan apparently lay down again, at which point the guy next to her asked if she wasn't getting off at the next stop. No, she replied, we were going to Prague. In this case, she was informed, we'd have to move up another few trains because this part of the train stayed at the next station. Susan waited until I returned, relayed the new information, and we ran up the train - about six cars further this time, for good measure. After this attempt, we ended up in the right place. The train separated, our part continued on, and very soon a pair of police officers came through the train asking for passports. Apparently we had crossed the border.
PART II - LANGUAGE DIFFICULTIES: Soon after our passports were checked, a man came through to check everyone's tickets again and we found ourselves surrounded by Czech. We understood the scenario, and therefore had no problem figuring out that the man with a uniform and date-stamp wanted to see our tickets, but it was the beginning of a new experience: neither of us had ever been in a country in which we were not competent (or accompanied by someone fully competent) in the language. Here, neither of us spoke Czech and, for all that people talk about how much English is spoken in Prague, we ran into a decent amount of people who spoke neither German nor English.
This scenario is at once frustrating and embarrassing. Between the two of us, we spoke five languages very competently, though rarely asked people about them. We'd normally ask first, "Sprechen Sie Deutsch?" (do you speak German) and, if met with a blank look or a negative answer, we'd continue, "oder Englisch?" as these two languages would seem the most likely to be common between us and Czech citizens. Besides which, it seems silly to just continue on, "oder Französisch? Italienisch? Spanisch?" because, although we could get by with these options, they were unlikely to be found in Prague and, at this point, grunts and gestures would be more efficient.
It was nice when people were able to speak German, mostly because it feels like a concession to me if I speak English abroad. It makes me feel like I have less control over the situation - I have to depend on their knowledge of a second language - and also it makes me feel... I don't know, guilty? Lazy? If I resort to my first language, even if I know German and Spanish, I feel that I'm projecting the image of an arrogant American traveler - "Why should I bother to learn a new language; everyone should speak mine". To be fair, Czech is only spoken in one small country and is, logically speaking, a rather large amount of time and effort for such a small visit, whereas French, German, Spanish, Russian, and Chinese are spoken by more people. But this reasoning isn't explained in every encounter. The only fact that is known is that I am in a country without any grasp of its language. Peinlich. (pitiable/pathetic).
PART III - OUR ARRIVAL: We arrived in Prague in the afternoon; withdrew money; deciphered the metro system; found a very nice, yet extremely affordable, hostel; dropped off our backpacks; and set out on a walk towards downtown. Our hostel was a long way from downtown, so we ended up walking for a few hours. We felt safe, and the view was gorgeous - we found the river Vltava and then followed it towards the double spires of the Altstadt Cathedral. It was long-since dark by the time we got there, and we pretty much just wandered aimlessly for a bit. We saw some of the shops selling wooden puppets and others selling gorgeous blown-glass creations, bought some delicious gelato, and, after a few hours, took the metro back to our hostel
PART IV - EXPLORING PRAGUE: The next morning, we set off to explore all of Prague. In order to have as much time to explore as possible, we took the metro to Nové Mêsto (new town) and from there walked through Malá Strana (Little Quarter) to Hradcany, the area around the Prague Castle. The castle itself was unspectacular, but the buildings around it, the park in Malá Strana that we went through, and especially the overviews of Prague were amazing. From there, we crossed the Karlov most (Charles Bridge), which is probably over-hyped but still quite lovely, to Staromêstské Nám, which is the old square.
When we arrived there, it was getting dark and quite cold, so we wanted to buy some Glühwine (German mulled wine) to keep us warm. We saw lots of signs advertising it, most of which said "Grog" then "Glühwine" then "Mulled Wine". As the last two were identical, we assumed that Grog was the Czech word for Glühwine. Feeling proud of this conclusion and culturally-sensitive for using the local name, we walked into a store with one of these signs and ordered two "Grog"s. Oh man. First off, if that is wine, I am blonde. And tall. And a man. This drink smelled so strong, we had to hold it at arms length to keep from choking on the stench. When we finally got up the courage to try the stuff, we made an interesting discovery. Grog is, in fact, not a word of Czech origins, but rather a form of onomatopoeia, as "GROG" is, loosely transcribed, the sound one makes upon ingesting the stuff. After it cooled off enough to be of use no longer in warming our hands (still at arms' length from our faces), we dumped the vile fluid (apparently tea and rum, according to a translation I've read since), and purchased two Glühwines at a food stand in the square. This made us warm and very very happy (see Susan with her Glühwine). We stayed to see the Astronomical Clock go off at five, and then headed back home.
Due to the fact that we did not end up paying to enter either the museum (no time) or the actual castle (no interest), we had much more money than we needed, as our train tickets were already paid for. We therefore bought Czech beers to bring for Becky and Jay, and went out to eat. We went to an Italian restaurant near our hostel The woman who greeted us spoke no English, but did speak a decent amount of German. She was very sweet and patient and we successfully ordered a (very delicious) meal. When we were done, a different waiter came to clear the dishes, and said something to us in Czech. We looked a bit lost, and then responded in German, to which he raised his eyebrows and shook his head while backing (slowly, slowly) away. Ugh, so peinlich. He talked to the nice German-speaking lady, who laughed and came over to our table again... so embarrassing to not be competent in the language! On the plus side, we spoke so much German (in attempts to communicate with Czech people as well as with each other) that I think my German has improved more here than it did in München!
PART V - KARLSTEJN: On our last day, we went to Karlstejn to see the castle there. It was great to wander through the town and through the castle grounds. I think Susan described it best, saying that the Bavarian castles like Neuschwanstein, Linderhof, and Nymphenburg, are too fairy-tale, too decorative. In contrast, the Karlstejn castle looked like a medieval castle is expected to look, which was an interesting site to witness.
After exploring the castle, I sat down outside the gates to wait for Susan and was passed by a group of three Eastern Europeans (I couldn't pinpoint the language past being slavic, but it may have actually been Czech). A woman and two men - a bit before reaching the gates, the woman called out something excitedly and gestured towards the gate. The two men stopped, sighed, rolled their eyes, linked arms, and posed as she took a picture. The expression that they gave at being forced to pose (yet again?)... I can just see this having happened all the way up the hill. I giggled at how this reaction transcends language, and also at the thought of what they'd be in for once they actually passed the gates. (Hee hee. Yes, I'm evil, but you would have laughed too if you'd been there.)
When we finished exploring Karlstejn, we headed back to Prague to catch the afternoon train back to München. Ticket difficulties on our first day aside, it was a great weekend!
06 November 2005
Mind Games and Heartaches
München, Deutschland
Now that I've been here for a couple months and had time to adjust to being in Germany, my mind has decided to start playing tricks on me. I'm melding locations, juxtaposing Valparaíso and Berkeley and Portland streets and buildings and landmarks onto Munich. If this weren't confusing enough, I'm seeing people from Chile and from the States here - people who cannot possibly be here. Stephanie's host siblings, Carrie's semi-stalker, a few random people from my high school, some swimmers here and there... On top of this, my languages are mixing together so much that I cannot tell which language I am thinking in. Spanish, English, German, all mixed up in my head and using the grammar from other languages, just to add a bit extra confusion. Maybe this is part of becoming familiar with a place? I start to relax and consider my surroundings to be normal or familiar and then my brain throws in images from other familiar places. This is a fun bit of psychosis, right now, let me tell ya...
I think being completely familiar with a place, being "at home" might occur when the surroundings are no longer strange, the architecture and landscapes no longer impressive. I remember Stephanie telling me at the end of last semester that she was glad to be leaving Chile in a way, because she never wanted to consider the cerros as everyday images; she wanted to maintain her wonder of the Valparaíso hills, and therefore would leave. I don't know that leaving the place is entirely necessary; but I agree with her on one part: I'd rather stay a stranger than lose the ability to be awed by my surroundings.
And I suppose in some way I'm succeeding, because I don't feel that I've become more Chilean, or more German. Rather, I'm becoming more neutral, and yet more American at the same time. I feel stronger ties to my own country, but at the same time more separated... In a way, I would like to have firm roots and feel like somewhere, just one place, is HOME. As it is, I don't know what I would refer to as my one home; the title is shared by the Bay Area, Portland, Valparaíso, and München.
I feel stretched, partially in four places and yet not completely in any of them. Part of me wants to latch on and put my roots firmly down somewhere, and then part of me wants to disconnect, so as not to be pulled, not be stretched...
It's making me feel thin, because I'm trying to love München, trying to understand it, and at the same time I miss my family and friends - in Berkeley, in Portland, and in Chile. I'm not even sure how to be homesick, because which one is "home"? Sometimes I am homesick for Lewis and Clark, sometimes for Berkeley, and sometimes for Valpo. At other times I miss all three at once, and then I just detach, but the thinning is still there...
...Nun aber schrumpft der Ort, wo du stehst:
Wohin jetzt, Schattenentblößter, wohin?
Steige. Taste empor.
Dünner wirst du, unkenntlicher, feiner!
Feiner: ein Faden,
an dem er herabwill, der Stern:
um unten zu schwimmen, unten,
wo er sich schimmern sieht: in der Dünung
wandernder Worte.
(Last stanza of "Sprich Auch Du" by Paul Celan)
I think being completely familiar with a place, being "at home" might occur when the surroundings are no longer strange, the architecture and landscapes no longer impressive. I remember Stephanie telling me at the end of last semester that she was glad to be leaving Chile in a way, because she never wanted to consider the cerros as everyday images; she wanted to maintain her wonder of the Valparaíso hills, and therefore would leave. I don't know that leaving the place is entirely necessary; but I agree with her on one part: I'd rather stay a stranger than lose the ability to be awed by my surroundings.
And I suppose in some way I'm succeeding, because I don't feel that I've become more Chilean, or more German. Rather, I'm becoming more neutral, and yet more American at the same time. I feel stronger ties to my own country, but at the same time more separated... In a way, I would like to have firm roots and feel like somewhere, just one place, is HOME. As it is, I don't know what I would refer to as my one home; the title is shared by the Bay Area, Portland, Valparaíso, and München.
I feel stretched, partially in four places and yet not completely in any of them. Part of me wants to latch on and put my roots firmly down somewhere, and then part of me wants to disconnect, so as not to be pulled, not be stretched...
It's making me feel thin, because I'm trying to love München, trying to understand it, and at the same time I miss my family and friends - in Berkeley, in Portland, and in Chile. I'm not even sure how to be homesick, because which one is "home"? Sometimes I am homesick for Lewis and Clark, sometimes for Berkeley, and sometimes for Valpo. At other times I miss all three at once, and then I just detach, but the thinning is still there...
...Nun aber schrumpft der Ort, wo du stehst:
Wohin jetzt, Schattenentblößter, wohin?
Steige. Taste empor.
Dünner wirst du, unkenntlicher, feiner!
Feiner: ein Faden,
an dem er herabwill, der Stern:
um unten zu schwimmen, unten,
wo er sich schimmern sieht: in der Dünung
wandernder Worte.
(Last stanza of "Sprich Auch Du" by Paul Celan)
11 October 2005
A week in the capital
Berlin, Deutschland
MONDAY - DAY ONE: Our week-long trip to Germany's capital started out with a very long train ride. We passed the time with random card games (in which I masterfully and decidedly beat Jay repeatedly) and a single attempt at Settlers of Catan (in which Susan masterfully and decidedly beat all of us). Meghan, one of our program leaders, periodically made rounds of the train, passing out bits of candy to anyone who was awake. In the entirety of the seven-hour train ride, she must have parceled out at least 10 pounds of candy between 20 or so students... I'll let you all do the math for that on your own, but let me just say that even I was getting sick of chocolate. We were then attacked by my water bottle, which became possessed and leapt, seemingly of its own accord, off the table and at my face. Naturally, and in self-defense, I swatted it away and, of course, it collided with Susan's forehead. Oops. But everyone at the table agrees that it was possessed and in no way under my control. After this near-death experience, Susan opted to sleep... on the floor under the table. Who knows why, but since I was sharing a seat with her, I got to lay down and "sleep" for a bit, thereby escaping the fate (diabetic coma) that Meghan seemed to have planned for us.
After we arrived in Berlin and checked into a hostel, we all went out for dinner. Now, I understand that feeding a group of 20-30 people may be a lengthy process, but we were pretty much the only people in the restaurant and yet had no food an hour after ordering. No sign of food, but drinks came rapidly, so some of us ordered cocktails in desperation for food. Tip for anyone starving and in a similar situation: Piña Coladas are yummy and come with a nice slice of pineapple to hold you over. Dinner eventually came (we stopped timing, but I think the wait was about one and a half to two hours) and was delicious: A fusion of Mediterranean and Middle-eastern food. Delicious couscous... more enjoyable by the fact that Susan is a light-weight and a bit of a mischievous drunk.
TUESDAY - DAY TWO: We woke up early and took a walking tour through the western half of Berlin, including the art district and a boat tour on the Spree (during which everyone fell asleep and the boat tour guide barked, loudly, into the microphone to wake us up). The first part of the tour - the walking part, was very interesting and the tour guide was great. In our defense regarding our nap on the boat, it was warm, the boat had a glass domed ceiling that induces sleep, and the tour guide (even according to our program leaders) was boring enough to put anyone to sleep. This, of course, does not include the instance of... um... channelling his inner-dog.
After the tours, we went home, took a nap, and then I went out to an early dinner with Susan, Amanda, and Guion (we ran into Jay on the way and dragged him along). We ate at "Casa Joe Penas" and I don't even think this place is worthy of evaluation as a latin american establishment. One, the name - Joe is in no way hispanic, and "penas" means "griefs", perhaps in reference to the happy hour, in which drinks were very very cheap. In summary, the food was horrible, the company was great, the drinks were excellent, and I found a pisco sour, which was passable and exciting to see outside of Chile (we won't count the Peruvian ones, which are yucky).
WEDNESDAY - DAY THREE: We visited the Reichstag and Unter den Linden as a group. For lunch, Susan, Guion, Amanda, Jay, Fred and I went along the Spree for a while and then sat down in the grass in front of the dom. While we were there, there was a very enthusiastic Australian tour guide speaking to a group of (we assume) American tourists. He was so into it, with elaborate gestures and jumping around wildly, even though he was basically saying "and so the palace was re-built a few years later". Eeep! We also had to explain the difference between "mahogany" and "monogamy", as there was apparently some confusion as to which one meant not polygamy (monogamy, for those of you who just tuned in) and then, in that case, "wait, so what's mahogany?"... I won't name names. In case there is any confusion, mahogany is a dark, burgundy-colored, expensive wood. Monogamy is what mormons are stereotypically not. After lunch, we went to the Pergamon, which was amazing, but so large that it was hard to take in everything that was there.
That afternoon, we played another game of Settlers (becoming addicts? Oh yes. Does Susan still skillfully slaughter any who challenge her? Oh yes.) with Thom and Amanda, and then Jay, Guion and I went out to dinner. Now, my dinner was fabulous, but somehow Guion managed to order a hamburger without the bun, and jay got a milkshake without the shake. Ah well. Afterwards, Susan and I went off exploring for an internet cafe. We were successful at finding one, though not at getting used to the keyboards. I gave up after my first email to Julia used the term "zaz" repeatedly when I was trying to convey excitement ("yay"). I also received an email from one of my would-be professors about the morphology class that I wanted to take. Apparently there were so many interested students, that the registration for the class would be decided by a test on the first day. Those who passed stayed in the class. Maybe I'm missing something, but "Introduction to Morphology", to me anyway, implies that students are NOT expected to have any prior knowledge of the subject. But... those who have a grasp on the subject of morphology and therefore past the test...are allowed to stay in the class...in order to gain an introduction to the subject of morphology...on which they have already demonstrated their knowledge.
... WHAT!? So, I was quite upset, but definitely gave up on getting into that class... And that was the note on which my Wednesday ended.
THURSDAY - DAY FOUR: We went to the Jewish museum on Thursday morning - the guide was terrible! He was boring, and walked us right past any interesting exhibits to talk for way too long about some obscure, random topic, IE jewish fashion around WWII. Thanks, but we'd rather spend a bit more time on the memorials, the newspaper articles, the propaganda, and the statistics. Uck. Obnoxious guide aside, the exhibits here were amazing and very emotionally evocative. If anyone is in Berlin and has a chance to go here, I suggest it wholeheartedly. There was also a large, outdoor exhibit called the garden of exile. My photo doesn't do it justice... It was a maze of tall cement blocks, on uneven ground, surrounded by trees that cast elongated shadows across all the pillars and across the floor... It was meant to represent the feelings of exile suffered by the Jewish people during the Holocaust, and it was a very powerful exhibit.
FRIDAY - DAY FIVE: Friday morning we went to Check Point Charlie. The museum was full of fascinating exhibits, but it was also a bit overwhelming. Maybe I was burnt out on museums, but I just couldn't absorb all the exhibits - all the information, and all the images - that were available. It would have been nice to have the ability to go back some other time - to take it in parts. Oh well, it was still a fascinating and interesting museum. We also took the second half of our walking tour of Berlin through the Eastern parts of the city and through an area in which we could see where the Berlin wall stood. During this tour we were accosted by an MTV interview crew, wanting commentary on Robbie Williams' presence in Berlin. Robbie Williams is a British pop star who is very popular in Europe, but practically unknown in the states. So everyone was confused and asking, "you mean ROBIN Williams? The comedian?" Anyway, they ended up interviewing Ethan, who also had no clue who Robbie Williams is. The tour guide was amused by the whole thing, and when a window-washer came out onto one of the balconies in the hotel where Robbie was supposedly staying, he incited a mini-riot, getting all the students to look up, point, and chant "Robbie! Robbie!" The MTV crew gave up and left.
That evening, we saw "Linie 1", a musical in a small local theater. It was very entertaining and also pretty easy to understand, which was encouraging.
SATURDAY - DAY SIX: Our final day in Berlin was really just the train ride home. Again, a long seven hours, filled almost entirely by playing card games with Jay and eating the candy that Meghan passed out. That evening, Becky, Susan, and Jay came over for dinner (pasta and some lovely Italian white wine that Amye had brought as a gift from Italy).
All in all it was a great week, and a nice way to end vorsemester. Next up: Winter Semester (dun-dun-DUN). Stay tuned, y'all.
After we arrived in Berlin and checked into a hostel, we all went out for dinner. Now, I understand that feeding a group of 20-30 people may be a lengthy process, but we were pretty much the only people in the restaurant and yet had no food an hour after ordering. No sign of food, but drinks came rapidly, so some of us ordered cocktails in desperation for food. Tip for anyone starving and in a similar situation: Piña Coladas are yummy and come with a nice slice of pineapple to hold you over. Dinner eventually came (we stopped timing, but I think the wait was about one and a half to two hours) and was delicious: A fusion of Mediterranean and Middle-eastern food. Delicious couscous... more enjoyable by the fact that Susan is a light-weight and a bit of a mischievous drunk.
TUESDAY - DAY TWO: We woke up early and took a walking tour through the western half of Berlin, including the art district and a boat tour on the Spree (during which everyone fell asleep and the boat tour guide barked, loudly, into the microphone to wake us up). The first part of the tour - the walking part, was very interesting and the tour guide was great. In our defense regarding our nap on the boat, it was warm, the boat had a glass domed ceiling that induces sleep, and the tour guide (even according to our program leaders) was boring enough to put anyone to sleep. This, of course, does not include the instance of... um... channelling his inner-dog.
After the tours, we went home, took a nap, and then I went out to an early dinner with Susan, Amanda, and Guion (we ran into Jay on the way and dragged him along). We ate at "Casa Joe Penas" and I don't even think this place is worthy of evaluation as a latin american establishment. One, the name - Joe is in no way hispanic, and "penas" means "griefs", perhaps in reference to the happy hour, in which drinks were very very cheap. In summary, the food was horrible, the company was great, the drinks were excellent, and I found a pisco sour, which was passable and exciting to see outside of Chile (we won't count the Peruvian ones, which are yucky).
WEDNESDAY - DAY THREE: We visited the Reichstag and Unter den Linden as a group. For lunch, Susan, Guion, Amanda, Jay, Fred and I went along the Spree for a while and then sat down in the grass in front of the dom. While we were there, there was a very enthusiastic Australian tour guide speaking to a group of (we assume) American tourists. He was so into it, with elaborate gestures and jumping around wildly, even though he was basically saying "and so the palace was re-built a few years later". Eeep! We also had to explain the difference between "mahogany" and "monogamy", as there was apparently some confusion as to which one meant not polygamy (monogamy, for those of you who just tuned in) and then, in that case, "wait, so what's mahogany?"... I won't name names. In case there is any confusion, mahogany is a dark, burgundy-colored, expensive wood. Monogamy is what mormons are stereotypically not. After lunch, we went to the Pergamon, which was amazing, but so large that it was hard to take in everything that was there.
That afternoon, we played another game of Settlers (becoming addicts? Oh yes. Does Susan still skillfully slaughter any who challenge her? Oh yes.) with Thom and Amanda, and then Jay, Guion and I went out to dinner. Now, my dinner was fabulous, but somehow Guion managed to order a hamburger without the bun, and jay got a milkshake without the shake. Ah well. Afterwards, Susan and I went off exploring for an internet cafe. We were successful at finding one, though not at getting used to the keyboards. I gave up after my first email to Julia used the term "zaz" repeatedly when I was trying to convey excitement ("yay"). I also received an email from one of my would-be professors about the morphology class that I wanted to take. Apparently there were so many interested students, that the registration for the class would be decided by a test on the first day. Those who passed stayed in the class. Maybe I'm missing something, but "Introduction to Morphology", to me anyway, implies that students are NOT expected to have any prior knowledge of the subject. But... those who have a grasp on the subject of morphology and therefore past the test...are allowed to stay in the class...in order to gain an introduction to the subject of morphology...on which they have already demonstrated their knowledge.
... WHAT!? So, I was quite upset, but definitely gave up on getting into that class... And that was the note on which my Wednesday ended.
THURSDAY - DAY FOUR: We went to the Jewish museum on Thursday morning - the guide was terrible! He was boring, and walked us right past any interesting exhibits to talk for way too long about some obscure, random topic, IE jewish fashion around WWII. Thanks, but we'd rather spend a bit more time on the memorials, the newspaper articles, the propaganda, and the statistics. Uck. Obnoxious guide aside, the exhibits here were amazing and very emotionally evocative. If anyone is in Berlin and has a chance to go here, I suggest it wholeheartedly. There was also a large, outdoor exhibit called the garden of exile. My photo doesn't do it justice... It was a maze of tall cement blocks, on uneven ground, surrounded by trees that cast elongated shadows across all the pillars and across the floor... It was meant to represent the feelings of exile suffered by the Jewish people during the Holocaust, and it was a very powerful exhibit.
FRIDAY - DAY FIVE: Friday morning we went to Check Point Charlie. The museum was full of fascinating exhibits, but it was also a bit overwhelming. Maybe I was burnt out on museums, but I just couldn't absorb all the exhibits - all the information, and all the images - that were available. It would have been nice to have the ability to go back some other time - to take it in parts. Oh well, it was still a fascinating and interesting museum. We also took the second half of our walking tour of Berlin through the Eastern parts of the city and through an area in which we could see where the Berlin wall stood. During this tour we were accosted by an MTV interview crew, wanting commentary on Robbie Williams' presence in Berlin. Robbie Williams is a British pop star who is very popular in Europe, but practically unknown in the states. So everyone was confused and asking, "you mean ROBIN Williams? The comedian?" Anyway, they ended up interviewing Ethan, who also had no clue who Robbie Williams is. The tour guide was amused by the whole thing, and when a window-washer came out onto one of the balconies in the hotel where Robbie was supposedly staying, he incited a mini-riot, getting all the students to look up, point, and chant "Robbie! Robbie!" The MTV crew gave up and left.
That evening, we saw "Linie 1", a musical in a small local theater. It was very entertaining and also pretty easy to understand, which was encouraging.
SATURDAY - DAY SIX: Our final day in Berlin was really just the train ride home. Again, a long seven hours, filled almost entirely by playing card games with Jay and eating the candy that Meghan passed out. That evening, Becky, Susan, and Jay came over for dinner (pasta and some lovely Italian white wine that Amye had brought as a gift from Italy).
All in all it was a great week, and a nice way to end vorsemester. Next up: Winter Semester (dun-dun-DUN). Stay tuned, y'all.
21 September 2005
Loneliness, Academics, and Language Frustration: München, Deutschland
The worse period of learning the language is the quiet stage. I don't know how other students learn languages, but my language acquisition process has rather predictable stages:
(1) Introduction to the language - quite incompetent in conversation, but proud of one's abilities to insert a word from the new language into an otherwise-English sentence.
(2) Familiarity with language - Starting to obtain an ear for the language, feeling comfortable with the basic vocabulary and grammar, speaking with confidence in the new language.
(3) A bit more study - Begin to realize that there are many grammatical rules that have NOT been fully absorbed. Begin to second-guess self and speech is very choppy and insecure.
(4) Quite a bit more study, plus contact with native speakers - Now positive that one's grammar and accent is downright awful. Avoiding speaking at all costs, and when forced to speak, unconfident to the point that all (or most) basic grammatical and vocabulary skills are lost.
(5) Realization of just how hopeless the situation is - Sick of being quiet all the time, and resigned to the fact that one will simply sound funny for quite awhile, start to speak more frequently with native and non-native speakers.
(6) Natural flow of words - Comfortable with language in speech and writing. Thinking and dreaming in the language. Although the accent is still not perfect and there may be some grammatical mistakes, on the whole competent and able to function fully in the new language.
(7) ???
Okay, I don't know what happens at number 7 because I'd say I'm at a 6 with Spanish. I think you get a perfect accent and a contract with "Brujas" (a Chilean soap opera) next, but I could be mistaken. I felt somewhere between 4 and 5 (almost out of 4) when I went to Chile, and I remember the frustration at myself for the first week or so when I didn't want to speak with native speakers in Chile. Currently, I'm at around a 3 or a 4 in German and just about ready to pull out all my hair.
I want to communicate! I have too many thoughts and ideas and opinions that I want to share in class or when we're speaking German outside of class. I understand the vast majority of the conversations that are going on around me, but I do not feel able to participate, and it is so frustrating. I am NOT without opinions. I am NOT silent. And I am not nearly as rude or dumb (in either sense of the word) as my floormates must surmise from my monosyllabic answers to most of their questions.
It's humiliating to hear myself talk and I don't want to seem completely anti-social (partly, yes, but not entirely). I most of all miss being able to express a sense of humor and play with the language. I can do this in English. I can do this with some people in Spanish. I am hopeless in German. That's the fun of speech, of language, of banter. It's tiring to function in another language without having this aspect.
It's tiring to have to strain to pay attention to what should be a simple conversation. It's obnoxious to have to piece contexts and sentences together instead of just understanding what someone says because my vocabulary is limited. And it's lonely not to be able to communicate. I have to hold back too much of what I'm thinking (which is interesting; I suppose I'm more vocally expressive than I thought).
And it's strange, but I'm not functioning in any given language. I switch back and forth between thinking in Spanish, English, and inarticulate German (yes, I have ineloquent thoughts when I am thinking in German). But I can't seem to have any language coordination between my mouth and my mind. I think in Spanish when trying to speak German. I think in German when trying to speak English or German. I think in English...well, only after reading, writing, or hearing a lot of English. Otherwise I seem to default to a language in which I am less competent. Academic masochism, perhaps?
Ah, speaking (writing) of academic masochism, I pulled my first all-nighter in over six months the other night. We had two tests in one day and the vocabulary simply was not sticking in my mind from the previous studying, so I just kept studying and turning flashcards until they did. That rolled right into the beginning of the test, so no sleep was had. I definitely never had to study this much in Chile, although all-nighters were pretty common at LC (thank you, swimming schedule). Up until naptime, which occurred immediately after my second test, I felt really good. I got my second wind at about 3 in the morning, after which I was able to appreciate the effort I was putting into it, satisfied with the fact that I was once again studying enough to disturb my sleep schedule. I don't know that this makes sense to anyone, but I really missed having to exhaust myself from the amount of work I had. Pushing boundaries, I suppose. Academically, Chile didn't make me do that. Staying up late was tied to salsa dancing or arguing with Stephanie's brother's friends, but not to studying.
On the other hand, I think I may have a subconscious theory that if I mentally beat myself up about this enough, the language will come faster. I know it is futile to want to push myself more and I'll just burn out.... But it's so darn frustrating to not be competent in this language.
On a more positive note, I'm looking at classes for next semester...no one but me really cares about this, so you can just skip this paragraph if you want. I'm planning on taking (1) Sprachkurs A, a continuation of the grammar class that I'm in now; (2) Culture and Civilization (German, obviously); (3) Japanese 1 for no credits because although I may get away with Korean, there is no way LC will let me have credit for Japanese. This means I don't have to put in effort for a good grade; just get an introduction to the language... (4)Introduction to German morphology, (5) German semantics, and (6) Current trends in Argentinean movies. The last is in Spanish and I'm really excited about it. I'm also excited for the linguistic and grammar courses... Really for everything but Culture and Civilization because I'm pretty sure there will be date-memorization involved in the tests and I'm time-stupid. If you told me that World War I brought about the French Revolution, I would be very insecure in saying that the French Revolution was at least a decade earlier (1789 and 1914. I know.) This was a bad example because these dates were on one of our tests and I had to spend many hours committing the numbers to memory. See all-nighter paragraph. Generally, though, I'm quite date-ignorant.
(1) Introduction to the language - quite incompetent in conversation, but proud of one's abilities to insert a word from the new language into an otherwise-English sentence.
(2) Familiarity with language - Starting to obtain an ear for the language, feeling comfortable with the basic vocabulary and grammar, speaking with confidence in the new language.
(3) A bit more study - Begin to realize that there are many grammatical rules that have NOT been fully absorbed. Begin to second-guess self and speech is very choppy and insecure.
(4) Quite a bit more study, plus contact with native speakers - Now positive that one's grammar and accent is downright awful. Avoiding speaking at all costs, and when forced to speak, unconfident to the point that all (or most) basic grammatical and vocabulary skills are lost.
(5) Realization of just how hopeless the situation is - Sick of being quiet all the time, and resigned to the fact that one will simply sound funny for quite awhile, start to speak more frequently with native and non-native speakers.
(6) Natural flow of words - Comfortable with language in speech and writing. Thinking and dreaming in the language. Although the accent is still not perfect and there may be some grammatical mistakes, on the whole competent and able to function fully in the new language.
(7) ???
Okay, I don't know what happens at number 7 because I'd say I'm at a 6 with Spanish. I think you get a perfect accent and a contract with "Brujas" (a Chilean soap opera) next, but I could be mistaken. I felt somewhere between 4 and 5 (almost out of 4) when I went to Chile, and I remember the frustration at myself for the first week or so when I didn't want to speak with native speakers in Chile. Currently, I'm at around a 3 or a 4 in German and just about ready to pull out all my hair.
I want to communicate! I have too many thoughts and ideas and opinions that I want to share in class or when we're speaking German outside of class. I understand the vast majority of the conversations that are going on around me, but I do not feel able to participate, and it is so frustrating. I am NOT without opinions. I am NOT silent. And I am not nearly as rude or dumb (in either sense of the word) as my floormates must surmise from my monosyllabic answers to most of their questions.
It's humiliating to hear myself talk and I don't want to seem completely anti-social (partly, yes, but not entirely). I most of all miss being able to express a sense of humor and play with the language. I can do this in English. I can do this with some people in Spanish. I am hopeless in German. That's the fun of speech, of language, of banter. It's tiring to function in another language without having this aspect.
It's tiring to have to strain to pay attention to what should be a simple conversation. It's obnoxious to have to piece contexts and sentences together instead of just understanding what someone says because my vocabulary is limited. And it's lonely not to be able to communicate. I have to hold back too much of what I'm thinking (which is interesting; I suppose I'm more vocally expressive than I thought).
And it's strange, but I'm not functioning in any given language. I switch back and forth between thinking in Spanish, English, and inarticulate German (yes, I have ineloquent thoughts when I am thinking in German). But I can't seem to have any language coordination between my mouth and my mind. I think in Spanish when trying to speak German. I think in German when trying to speak English or German. I think in English...well, only after reading, writing, or hearing a lot of English. Otherwise I seem to default to a language in which I am less competent. Academic masochism, perhaps?
Ah, speaking (writing) of academic masochism, I pulled my first all-nighter in over six months the other night. We had two tests in one day and the vocabulary simply was not sticking in my mind from the previous studying, so I just kept studying and turning flashcards until they did. That rolled right into the beginning of the test, so no sleep was had. I definitely never had to study this much in Chile, although all-nighters were pretty common at LC (thank you, swimming schedule). Up until naptime, which occurred immediately after my second test, I felt really good. I got my second wind at about 3 in the morning, after which I was able to appreciate the effort I was putting into it, satisfied with the fact that I was once again studying enough to disturb my sleep schedule. I don't know that this makes sense to anyone, but I really missed having to exhaust myself from the amount of work I had. Pushing boundaries, I suppose. Academically, Chile didn't make me do that. Staying up late was tied to salsa dancing or arguing with Stephanie's brother's friends, but not to studying.
On the other hand, I think I may have a subconscious theory that if I mentally beat myself up about this enough, the language will come faster. I know it is futile to want to push myself more and I'll just burn out.... But it's so darn frustrating to not be competent in this language.
On a more positive note, I'm looking at classes for next semester...no one but me really cares about this, so you can just skip this paragraph if you want. I'm planning on taking (1) Sprachkurs A, a continuation of the grammar class that I'm in now; (2) Culture and Civilization (German, obviously); (3) Japanese 1 for no credits because although I may get away with Korean, there is no way LC will let me have credit for Japanese. This means I don't have to put in effort for a good grade; just get an introduction to the language... (4)Introduction to German morphology, (5) German semantics, and (6) Current trends in Argentinean movies. The last is in Spanish and I'm really excited about it. I'm also excited for the linguistic and grammar courses... Really for everything but Culture and Civilization because I'm pretty sure there will be date-memorization involved in the tests and I'm time-stupid. If you told me that World War I brought about the French Revolution, I would be very insecure in saying that the French Revolution was at least a decade earlier (1789 and 1914. I know.) This was a bad example because these dates were on one of our tests and I had to spend many hours committing the numbers to memory. See all-nighter paragraph. Generally, though, I'm quite date-ignorant.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)