Belly-Sliding the Alps and Other Stories

This is going to be the last post on this blog for the foreseeable future.  I am leaving Germany and the strange internet territories that forbade me from getting into my old blog.  But then again, we'll see what happens.  

In the meantime, I can show you the snow-heap at the foot of an alpine peak that I belly-slid with my friend Andrew.  Well, I belly-slid it; he slid on his backside. I think that went better for him, considering I ended up painfully scraping my hip and fingers.

This is another Luke-and-Andrew story; we were hiking up to the peak when the sun broke through the clouds between the trees.  For all of five minutes, shafts of sun streamed through the branches and needles.  Andrew and I only had enough time to jump into the light before it vanished again.

Last but certainly not least, this morning I tried to cook my eight remaining eggs as provisioning for today and tomorrow.  Two of them were cracked, apparently, before they went into the boiling water.  Needless to say, this did not go well.

Yup.  They exploded.  Violently.  Audibly.  I guess that means it's time to go home, right?

Sailing With the Tide

I'm headed home the day after tomorrow...  Most of the group leaves in the morning, but I'll linger until check-out and cook up the rest of my food before rolling out and making for town.  I've booked a hostel room in the city center by the main train station and I'll stay there tomorrow night.  Sunday morning, I'll wake up and eat a packed sandwich before rolling for the airport.  From thence comes a long flight and the happiness of coming home.

I guess it's about time.

Wort des Tages: Zugehörigkeitsgefühl

Das Zugehörigkeitsgefühl: (n.) the feeling of belonging.  This is one of those words that makes me rant about German specificity.  I love gems like this one.  Let's break it on down.

'Zu' is one of the many German 'to' words.  One uses it with the word 'gehören,' which means 'to belong,' to indicate to whom (it belongs to me = es gehört zu mir).  '-Keit' is a suffix can turn adjectives into nouns, basically an '-ing' or '-ness' suffix in English.  At the end, we have 'gefühl,' which means 'feeling.'  

Summing it up, we have 'the feeling of belonging to [something].'  

Like a class group, for instance.

Sorry for the bad quality; I had to take a photo of a printed photo.  I honestly like how it looks, but anyway, from left to right we have Mrs. Berlin, our teacher; Alex sitting; Ryan standing; Kolbie in the light blue; then Adam sitting; then Ozi in the dark sweatshirt; yours truly sitting; Michelle in pink; and finally Mitch and Trip.  

It was a truly amazing four weeks.  Not surprisingly, I'll be sad to leave even as I look forward to seeing home again.

Music Cannot Be Captured in Blurry Photographs

I want to let the photos speak, but I know I should preface them with some text so that they are oriented in space and time.

Last night I went to see Frank Ocean play a show at the BMW World in Munich.  The BMW World is a combination museum, exhibition center, and concert hall in the area of the Munich Olympia Park.  For all of Frank Ocean's popularity in America, the crowd was pretty small.  Or, at least, it seemed small.  Nonetheless, many people knew the lyrics, and the show was amazing.  And without further ado...

Wort des Tages: Essen

Stapling itself onto the early post on 'Lebensmittel' comes today's Wort des Tages.

Das Essen: (n.) the food.  More speculation and conjecture follows its possible relation to the word 'essence' in English.  I think that's a more plausible connection than some of the others that I've been drawing.

All that aside, to the good stuff!  Namely, the food!  Pictured above is a Biramisu, which I take to be a tiramisu flavored with artisanal beer from the Hausbrauerei Altstadthof in Nuernberg.   

Next, we have typical Wiener Schnitzel served with fries and a slice of lemon.  Half the table ordered this the night we all ate together in Vienna.  

Alas for the vegetarian, stranded in self-imposed self-denial in the German paradise of fine meats!  I ordered a bruschetta with cheese, chives, spinach, and onions at the brewery instead of the others' schnitzel.  It was, I must say, pretty good.  

Besides, at the end of the night, a few people hadn't finished their schnitzel.  Strictly as a public service, I snapped the leftovers right up to save them from the trashcan.  Definitely the right decision.

The Wandering Son Presents: Read and Re-Read

In the few weeks that I've been here, I've gone through a few books  (in English, not in German, I'm afraid).  Four books, to be exact.  Two of them were new to me.  They were The Reader by Bernhard Schlink and Ladies and Gentlemen, the Bible! by Jonathan Goldstein.  The other two were old favorites: Goethe's Faust I, trans. Randall Jarrell, and The Master and Margarita by Bulgakov, trans. Mirra Ginsburg.  All of the books were excellent, and frankly, I read through them too quickly.  Before too long, I'll have to go back to each of them again.

Now, I wanted to go through the books and present a passage or a great quote from each, but I realized that the end result of this would be that no book in four would be done justice.  So I'm just going to recommend that you read all of them.  I'm also going to give you one of my favorite passages from Goethe and Jarrell's Faust. 

This comes from the scene where the doctor is translating St. John from what I assume to be Greek or Latin into German.

Faust

It is written: "In the beginning was the  Word!"
Already I have to stop!  Who'll help me on?
It's impossible to put such trust in the Word!
I must translate some other way
If I am truly enlightened by the spirit.
It is written: "In the beginning was the Thought!"
Think hard of that first line,
Make sure your pen does not outrun itself!
Is it the Thought that moves and creates everything?
It should be: "In the beginning was the Power!"
Yet even as I write it down, 
Already something warns me not to keep it.
The spirit helps me!  All at once I see the answer
And write it confidently:
"In the beginning was the Deed!" 

Wort des Tages: Vogel

Der Vogel: (n.) the bird.  I guess one could draw a line from 'vogel' in German to 'vocal' in English.  Personally, I'm not about to prove that connection, though I wish good luck to anyone who wants to try.  I mean, it would be cool if they were related...

I stopped by the Desert House of the Vienna Zoo over my weekend stay. Of all the animals in the hot, light-drenched greenhouse exhibition, the birds were the most fun to watch.

And, I mean, the architecture was gorgeous, too.  Something a little different than typical Viennese, but it still made me want to tack a glass wing with green-metal bracers onto the rancher back home.  

Into the City of Light

Our little group passed the heat of the morning and the early afternoon at Palace Schonbrunn.  In the evening, we made it out to the Riesenrad carnival and passed the cool darkening hours wandering among the rides and proliferating colored lights.  The day was a strange combination of Hapsburg majesty and 1960's American 'Funland' kitsch.  

I thought it was awesome.  

Wort des Tages: Hell

Hell: (adj.) light, bright, or light-colored.

Because of the way it is spelled and pronounced, this word calls to mind a certain English word that names a rather dark and unsavory place.

The opposition between English and German definitions of 'Hell' comes to a fore in my mind the form of Vienna at night.

The city is gorgeous and beautifully lit, and even in the dark places that emerge, the shadows only make what light there is into something more striking.  Its 'hell' is a bright heaven, even as ours is a lightless hole.

Basically, I really just want to communicate that Vienna is gorgeous.  Also, even though I've been here before, I have the feeling that I'm seeing the place for the first time.  

(And yes, there was a little of T.S. Eliot's 'Four Quartets' in that last one.  Don't lampoon me for it.  It's a good poem, anyway.)

That Time of Year

Two days ago, it was too hot out for us to stay in the city.

Lacking a reason to do otherwise, we went straight back down to the lake.  I swiftly developed an urge to rent a boat and go sailing.

Unfortunately, this didn't happen, but we still had time to chill on the beach with what seemed like half the population of Munich.

We stayed until the evening and then headed back for dinner.

On the way, I stopped to take a picture of a man teasing a swan.  Or trying to teach it German.  I'm not really clear on what's going on here.

On our way back into town, the trains stopped running because of, as I understand it, 'people in the tracks.'  We had to walk halfway to our stop from the last stop to which the trains ran.  Some of us were more cheerful about this turn of events than others.

At the end of the light, we were rewarded by another lovely summer sky.  Note the timestamp on this one.  It was a quarter past nine.  Is it just me, or does the sun never go down that late in Maryland?  Or is it always so unwilling to set?

Also, I'm heading to Vienna this afternoon, so stay tuned for a deluge of new pictures...

Wort des Tages: Lächerlich

Lächerlich: (adj.) ridiculous.  Coming from 'lachen,' which is the verb 'to laugh' but also very much in the vein of 'lächeln' which is 'to smile.'  A synonym in English would be 'laughable.'  

I like the word because it sounds - leckerlick - a little like how it means.  Somehow the repeated l's call to mind a peal of laughter for me.  Maybe it's that the alliteration rolls so much that it knocks flat the people who would try to stand on the word and speak it with a straight face.  

In any language, it's a great word for the jesters and clowns among us...

The Lake

Since he is a sucker for water features, sailboats, and yellow-gold evening light, there can only be one true destination for the wandering son abroad!

The lake!!!

Wort des Tages: Mitleid

Das Mitleid: (n.) the compassion.

A lot of Americans (or maybe I should say English speakers) know the word 'Schadenfreud,' which is the happiness one feels about another person's sadness.  Today's word, 'mitleid,' is the sadness one feels about another's sadness.  It is, in essence, sympathy.

Breaking it down, 'mit' means 'with' and 'leid' means 'sorrow,' 'grief,' or 'misfortune.'  When one shows another 'mitleid,' one is sharing in their sorrows.  In name, at least, 'mitleid' goes beyond pity to mean the act of shouldering part of another person's burden. 

To me, that is a powerful word indeed.  

Into the Alps

I'm going to let the pictures speak for themselves on this one.