for death warmed over.
Tax weekend went well. By Sunday night I was 95% complete and I had assembled a list of things I needed to check while in the office during the week, mainly that I had filled in the right numbers in the right German boxes. Papers were all assembled and ready to be copied in the office.
A few stray pieces of paper had to be tracked down and checked up, but everything is ready to go as of tonight after I completed my calendar of 'where I have been working and on what days' for 2006. Tomorrow the intelligent accountants the company provides are on-site to collect the pieces of paper, and answer any stray questions. So after I meet with my two ladies at 10.30, I can then click the button to submit all the stuff to them and hand over my papers and consider it done.
Then I came home tonight and my Gemany 2005 prepared returns were in my mailbox awaiting signature. What a wonderful time of year.
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Monday, February 26, 2007
Saturday, February 24, 2007
LAMA GREEN ELK
tax preparation day has been loads of fun, and apparently there are only a few brain cells left, because i find this online anagram maker (an anagram is mixing up letters to produce other words) amusing. the above title is an anagram of--> angela merkel.
even more enticing, this tool lets you choose to create anagrams in another language, or to choose a 'candidate word list,' which shows you what words could be found within your text, without generating the whole anagram for you. for example, by inputting angela merkel and choosing 'candidate word list', it tells you that words found within angela merkel are:
-allergen
-germane
-general
and on and on...
by choosing my own first and last name and asking for a candidate word list, i now know that words that can be found in my name include among others:
-terabytes
-theatres
(Yeah, I was an English major who was a graduate fellow for a statisics professor. I'm not sure either why such things amuse me to no end.)
even more enticing, this tool lets you choose to create anagrams in another language, or to choose a 'candidate word list,' which shows you what words could be found within your text, without generating the whole anagram for you. for example, by inputting angela merkel and choosing 'candidate word list', it tells you that words found within angela merkel are:
-allergen
-germane
-general
and on and on...
by choosing my own first and last name and asking for a candidate word list, i now know that words that can be found in my name include among others:
-terabytes
-theatres
(Yeah, I was an English major who was a graduate fellow for a statisics professor. I'm not sure either why such things amuse me to no end.)
Friday, February 23, 2007
the glamorous side of expat life
For those of you sitting at home in the US thinking that my Euro life is oh so sexy...this weekend I am sitting with a pile of paperwork and filling in boxes with numbers so that I can then give it to the intelligent accountants who will put it all in order and file my tax returns for both the US and Germany. Double the pleasure, double the fun!
I don't find it hellish so much, but rather painfully boring with the filling in of mundane details like how far my office is to my home and how I get there and that each time I get a question like that, I have to research the mundane answer because I feel the need to be exact since it's my taxes and it's the government and who knows what will happen if it's wrong! (1.4 km and by car). I spent an hour on it tonight, getting assembled and at least opening everything.
I bought a lovely bag of coffee from Keyna to kick off tomorrow's marathon session.
I don't find it hellish so much, but rather painfully boring with the filling in of mundane details like how far my office is to my home and how I get there and that each time I get a question like that, I have to research the mundane answer because I feel the need to be exact since it's my taxes and it's the government and who knows what will happen if it's wrong! (1.4 km and by car). I spent an hour on it tonight, getting assembled and at least opening everything.
I bought a lovely bag of coffee from Keyna to kick off tomorrow's marathon session.
Thursday, February 22, 2007
all together now
I talk rarely about work because i spend 8+ hours there, so I see no need to further 'prolong' my work day by blogging about it. However, I know that some of my American readers like to know a little about life here, working in Germany.
There is currently a big project going on with heavy American involvement. My German colleague leading the project speaks decent business English, but has been worn out recently by having to work with the Americans, as he normally doesn't spend 80%+ of his workday with them, and he has never worked outside of Germany, so it's an effort for him to constantly be 'on'. Couple that with our Americans who have never been outside of America and can never bring in enough casual phrasing guaranteed to confuse a non-native speaker. "Let's levelset this." Um, ok.
So we're sitting three of us on a conference call here in Germany, with this worn-out German colleague in Belgium, and five Americans in the US. The purpose was to discuss a proposed agenda for a big meeting that is upcoming. The worn-out German is doing his best to lead the discussion, but the Americans are brainstorming. (*giggle*) I forget sometimes that as annoyed as the Germans can make me, the Americans can annoy/confound the Germans in an equivalent amount.
My boss and I on the call have it on mute for side discussions when he isn't jumping in as he's trying to blow over some of the storm and herd the cats but they just bounce off track in another direction and Mr. Worn Out in Belgium is tired. At the same time we're both on the edge of getting sick as sickness has been floating around our office for two weeks with various colleagues in and out, and it was after 5 PM, so overall we were so loopy.
The Americans, bless their little hearts, aren't 'German direct' and won't give an order per se, so they are couching suggestions softly, such as 'not sure if it would work, but maybe you could blah blah' and 'well, this is what we did, perhaps that is helpful?'. And on and on, with the Germans politely acknowledging because they won't go on the offensive with such a light approach, but getting more and more stymied by what to do with this deluge of ideas when they already put their ideas on this agenda, so why are there more ideas?
We finally get through the agenda and they have even more overall helpful suggestions such as 'adding interactive components to the various sessions'. (cackle) We have 80 people coming to this shindig, and the Germans are already stressed about getting all ducks in order and in the same direction and the Americans are suggesting 'break-out sessions' and 'interaction'.
We're on mute and I make the sarcastic comment to my boss, 'if you really want to impress them, why don't you tell them, in addition to the break-out sessions we also have some icebreakers planned'.
'Some ice-what?'
'Oh nevermind, I'll tell you afterwards.'
Sure enough five minutes later, one of the Americans offered the question--so...do you have any icebreakers planned? And this was the point in the call where we finally lost it. There was dead silence on the phone line as we were on mute with laughter that could not be contained. We managed to scrape together an answer. If only they knew.
There is currently a big project going on with heavy American involvement. My German colleague leading the project speaks decent business English, but has been worn out recently by having to work with the Americans, as he normally doesn't spend 80%+ of his workday with them, and he has never worked outside of Germany, so it's an effort for him to constantly be 'on'. Couple that with our Americans who have never been outside of America and can never bring in enough casual phrasing guaranteed to confuse a non-native speaker. "Let's levelset this." Um, ok.
So we're sitting three of us on a conference call here in Germany, with this worn-out German colleague in Belgium, and five Americans in the US. The purpose was to discuss a proposed agenda for a big meeting that is upcoming. The worn-out German is doing his best to lead the discussion, but the Americans are brainstorming. (*giggle*) I forget sometimes that as annoyed as the Germans can make me, the Americans can annoy/confound the Germans in an equivalent amount.
My boss and I on the call have it on mute for side discussions when he isn't jumping in as he's trying to blow over some of the storm and herd the cats but they just bounce off track in another direction and Mr. Worn Out in Belgium is tired. At the same time we're both on the edge of getting sick as sickness has been floating around our office for two weeks with various colleagues in and out, and it was after 5 PM, so overall we were so loopy.
The Americans, bless their little hearts, aren't 'German direct' and won't give an order per se, so they are couching suggestions softly, such as 'not sure if it would work, but maybe you could blah blah' and 'well, this is what we did, perhaps that is helpful?'. And on and on, with the Germans politely acknowledging because they won't go on the offensive with such a light approach, but getting more and more stymied by what to do with this deluge of ideas when they already put their ideas on this agenda, so why are there more ideas?
We finally get through the agenda and they have even more overall helpful suggestions such as 'adding interactive components to the various sessions'. (cackle) We have 80 people coming to this shindig, and the Germans are already stressed about getting all ducks in order and in the same direction and the Americans are suggesting 'break-out sessions' and 'interaction'.
We're on mute and I make the sarcastic comment to my boss, 'if you really want to impress them, why don't you tell them, in addition to the break-out sessions we also have some icebreakers planned'.
'Some ice-what?'
'Oh nevermind, I'll tell you afterwards.'
Sure enough five minutes later, one of the Americans offered the question--so...do you have any icebreakers planned? And this was the point in the call where we finally lost it. There was dead silence on the phone line as we were on mute with laughter that could not be contained. We managed to scrape together an answer. If only they knew.
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
"Don't tell them to grow up and out of it"
I work at a company where a good chunk of the business (and profits) comes from the manufacturing line. As a result many manufacturing related practices appear on the business side, such as Six Sigma, are utilized. Another facet is that people operations are very compartmentalized and modular as opposed to other companies where people changes would require a softer touch.
In my first three years with this company we moved offices four times. One time, I knew we were moving again in four months, so I did not bother to unpack. I just packed carefully so that they things I would need for four months would be at the top of the box. Once my colleague went on a three week vacation knowing that we would be moving in three months. He came back to find us long gone. He had to call someone to come fetch him at reception as he didn't know where to find us.
This time we're at it again as they juggle space to maximize usage. However, it currently looks like the threat they've had for a long time, to get us out of this office complex is finally coming true. Officially we belong to another business unit than the one we sit with, so it makes sense that we would be the easiest to pick off. Therefore, they are not so particular about where they send us, it's not like someone else wants us to bring us somewhere, just that we're being asked to leave.
Interestingly, perhaps because I'm not German and I do not plan to spend my entire life here, or maybe because my local friends/family is non-existent, I don't really see this as a bad thing. There is a lot of office stress right now, and this info has only been released in a limited circle in the hopes that the move can be alleviated and unnecessary stress avoided.
The two options currently being kicked around (where we have other offices with extra space):
1. W - to the northeast of B by 30 min, a large city of around 350 k people and its own main train station, although the office is a 10 minute busride from there. The commute from D'dorf hbf with train and bus would be 35 min.
2. G - to the northwest and further away (one hour), a city that is actually smaller than the tiny town of B. it has no local train station and is 45 min by car from D'dorf.
Perhaps interestingly, if given a choice from the above, G is actually more interesting to me. Primarily because it is only 15 minutes from the Dutch border my trips over the border would become easier. Even further, I could actually live in the Netherlands and work in Germany instead of live and work here. It's also close to some of the off-peak airports, which means those that get the cheap flights, as from RyanAir. Hmm, perhaps THAT isn't an advantage. ;-)
In my first three years with this company we moved offices four times. One time, I knew we were moving again in four months, so I did not bother to unpack. I just packed carefully so that they things I would need for four months would be at the top of the box. Once my colleague went on a three week vacation knowing that we would be moving in three months. He came back to find us long gone. He had to call someone to come fetch him at reception as he didn't know where to find us.
This time we're at it again as they juggle space to maximize usage. However, it currently looks like the threat they've had for a long time, to get us out of this office complex is finally coming true. Officially we belong to another business unit than the one we sit with, so it makes sense that we would be the easiest to pick off. Therefore, they are not so particular about where they send us, it's not like someone else wants us to bring us somewhere, just that we're being asked to leave.
Interestingly, perhaps because I'm not German and I do not plan to spend my entire life here, or maybe because my local friends/family is non-existent, I don't really see this as a bad thing. There is a lot of office stress right now, and this info has only been released in a limited circle in the hopes that the move can be alleviated and unnecessary stress avoided.
The two options currently being kicked around (where we have other offices with extra space):
1. W - to the northeast of B by 30 min, a large city of around 350 k people and its own main train station, although the office is a 10 minute busride from there. The commute from D'dorf hbf with train and bus would be 35 min.
2. G - to the northwest and further away (one hour), a city that is actually smaller than the tiny town of B. it has no local train station and is 45 min by car from D'dorf.
Perhaps interestingly, if given a choice from the above, G is actually more interesting to me. Primarily because it is only 15 minutes from the Dutch border my trips over the border would become easier. Even further, I could actually live in the Netherlands and work in Germany instead of live and work here. It's also close to some of the off-peak airports, which means those that get the cheap flights, as from RyanAir. Hmm, perhaps THAT isn't an advantage. ;-)
Sunday, February 18, 2007
Some images from Cologne this weekend
Most of Cologne was heavily celebrating Karneval this weekend, but I wasn't in that sort of mood to be surrounded by loud, racous, drunken party-making.
Here is my favorite bridge in Cologne on Saturday evening. I especially like it after dark once they turn the lights on. At a certain late hour in the early AM, they turn the lights off so you can't see it from the distance--not sure if they're saving electricity or what. If I'm seeing it on the way home on a Friday/Saturday and the lights are out, that's a signal that I stayed out too late. ;-)
On Saturday I went to our hole in the wall corner bar in the Cologne Deutz neighborhood near where I used to live. I refer to it as the Twilight Zone bar because people there are friendly. Often in my little corner of Germany, when you walk into a bar here, people don't recognize you so they turn around and stare. When I would go into a bar with my Spanish colleague and we would be speaking Spanish, this really baffled them so it would go silent, mouths open staring. Blah.
However, at the Twilight Zone bar, it's a strange little mixture of neighborhood people and always people start to talk to us, and I always learn very interesting things about life in Germany. Last night two ladies were on one side of us, and two single gentlemen so it was a group of six generally chatting and one of the women exclaims (in German), "a-ha, such an international group!" while pointing to each of us and saying the person's nationality. We were 2 Germans and 1 each: American, Australian, Dutch, and French.
On Sunday we watched a little bit of one of the parades. It was a little too chilly to be standing around outside for hours though.
Here is my favorite bridge in Cologne on Saturday evening. I especially like it after dark once they turn the lights on. At a certain late hour in the early AM, they turn the lights off so you can't see it from the distance--not sure if they're saving electricity or what. If I'm seeing it on the way home on a Friday/Saturday and the lights are out, that's a signal that I stayed out too late. ;-)
On Saturday I went to our hole in the wall corner bar in the Cologne Deutz neighborhood near where I used to live. I refer to it as the Twilight Zone bar because people there are friendly. Often in my little corner of Germany, when you walk into a bar here, people don't recognize you so they turn around and stare. When I would go into a bar with my Spanish colleague and we would be speaking Spanish, this really baffled them so it would go silent, mouths open staring. Blah.
However, at the Twilight Zone bar, it's a strange little mixture of neighborhood people and always people start to talk to us, and I always learn very interesting things about life in Germany. Last night two ladies were on one side of us, and two single gentlemen so it was a group of six generally chatting and one of the women exclaims (in German), "a-ha, such an international group!" while pointing to each of us and saying the person's nationality. We were 2 Germans and 1 each: American, Australian, Dutch, and French.
On Sunday we watched a little bit of one of the parades. It was a little too chilly to be standing around outside for hours though.
Thursday, February 15, 2007
a day late and a buck short
but oh so appropriate. Go see Mausi for a kinder, gentler version.
| Your Candy Heart Says "Get Real" |
 Your ideal Valentine's Day date: is all about the person you're seeing (with no mentions of v-day!) Your flirting style: honest and even slightly sarcastic What turns you off: romantic expectations and "greeting card" holidays Why you're hot: you don't just play hard to get - you are hard to get |
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
Henri-Chapelle American military cemetary and genealogy
For a change, occasionally on a weekend I take off over the border to either Belgium or the Netherlands, because either one can be reached in 55 minutes. About a month ago we went to the Henri-Chapelle American military cemetery which is not actually in Henri-Chapelle, but that is the closest large town. Since it was pouring rain when we arrived, here are some photos when I was there previously two summers ago when the weather was better:
We went inside the small hall when has a large map of the war movements as well as printed information in English, German, Dutch, and French. While we were reading a group of school children and their chaperones came in and the US caretaker (I'm sure there's a better word for him), came out of his office and gave a five minute talk to them in French. As we were still there and he saw us reading the English wall, he asked where we were from and upon hearing I was an American he said, 'ah, a taxpayer, we have something for you' and brought out a color brochure about the American Monuments Commission.
He seemed like a very nice fellow, so I took the opportunity to ask if I could pick him brain about my great-uncles buried in American military cemeteries in Italy. He's a bit of a history buff and maybe the day was slow, so he invited us into his office and did some research. He was very helpful and informative and when I mentioned a certain unit in the military, he went to the file cabinet. As some members of the unit are buried there, he has had connections with members of the unit who have visited, and he mentioned that they have an 'alumni association' of former members and their families. He gave me two emails and suggested that I contact them for information about the one great-uncle (GU) who was in that group.
I sent off an email not expecting to hear much and was pleasantly surprised when I received a response two days later. The fellow mentioned that he did not know GU, but there was another former member who is heavily involved in the troop history and continued in the military for another 30 years so maybe he would have known him and here is his email, chop chop.
I sent another email out to 'the Colonel' and again set the expectations low, partially because emails change and people are busy, and partially because if someone was in this group in 1942ish, then someone must be at least 80 years old or so, and how many 80+ year olds are so connected to the internet and email? Apparently this one, big time.
The Colonel emailed me back within five hours with a lively and lovely response that he did, indeed, remember this GU and the accident when he died and he also had a photo of him in his military jumpsuit (he was a parachutist), and would I like a copy, and oh, he'll do some more research for me to see what else he can find as well as add me to the group's email list. Wow. Further, there were recommended books to read and a book about to be re-printed about the group's activities and if I want a copy he'll reserve one.
The Colonel and I went back and forth as he is a very quick emailer. He then informed me that a group does a march in that area to re-trace certain military routes and it goes past a memorial to GU's group. It's a combination of US military members who were involved, their families, and people who live in the area, so I can go if I want. It's four days of activities, so I'm just going over for Saturday, and the Colonel has suggested that I contact a certain Belgian fellow while there, that he would be interesting to meet. Even further, there is a different, but similar commemorative activity that takes place in Germany so he'll be sure to connect me to that one as it's in the summer and attended by other interesting people.
On the negative side, these activities in Belgium are actually this weekend. Also, it's this weekend which is Karneval in Germany. I'm not such a big Karneval fan, I never take off of work for it, but I do usually go out on the Saturday night and to the parades on Sunday, because I do enjoy when the Germans relax and have fun. So it puts me out of commission, really, for Saturday, but I'll still get to go to the children's parades on Sunday.
I am really looking forward to Saturday. Having done genealogy research now for over three years and to have just fallen into this is fantastic.
We went inside the small hall when has a large map of the war movements as well as printed information in English, German, Dutch, and French. While we were reading a group of school children and their chaperones came in and the US caretaker (I'm sure there's a better word for him), came out of his office and gave a five minute talk to them in French. As we were still there and he saw us reading the English wall, he asked where we were from and upon hearing I was an American he said, 'ah, a taxpayer, we have something for you' and brought out a color brochure about the American Monuments Commission.
He seemed like a very nice fellow, so I took the opportunity to ask if I could pick him brain about my great-uncles buried in American military cemeteries in Italy. He's a bit of a history buff and maybe the day was slow, so he invited us into his office and did some research. He was very helpful and informative and when I mentioned a certain unit in the military, he went to the file cabinet. As some members of the unit are buried there, he has had connections with members of the unit who have visited, and he mentioned that they have an 'alumni association' of former members and their families. He gave me two emails and suggested that I contact them for information about the one great-uncle (GU) who was in that group.
I sent off an email not expecting to hear much and was pleasantly surprised when I received a response two days later. The fellow mentioned that he did not know GU, but there was another former member who is heavily involved in the troop history and continued in the military for another 30 years so maybe he would have known him and here is his email, chop chop.
I sent another email out to 'the Colonel' and again set the expectations low, partially because emails change and people are busy, and partially because if someone was in this group in 1942ish, then someone must be at least 80 years old or so, and how many 80+ year olds are so connected to the internet and email? Apparently this one, big time.
The Colonel emailed me back within five hours with a lively and lovely response that he did, indeed, remember this GU and the accident when he died and he also had a photo of him in his military jumpsuit (he was a parachutist), and would I like a copy, and oh, he'll do some more research for me to see what else he can find as well as add me to the group's email list. Wow. Further, there were recommended books to read and a book about to be re-printed about the group's activities and if I want a copy he'll reserve one.
The Colonel and I went back and forth as he is a very quick emailer. He then informed me that a group does a march in that area to re-trace certain military routes and it goes past a memorial to GU's group. It's a combination of US military members who were involved, their families, and people who live in the area, so I can go if I want. It's four days of activities, so I'm just going over for Saturday, and the Colonel has suggested that I contact a certain Belgian fellow while there, that he would be interesting to meet. Even further, there is a different, but similar commemorative activity that takes place in Germany so he'll be sure to connect me to that one as it's in the summer and attended by other interesting people.
On the negative side, these activities in Belgium are actually this weekend. Also, it's this weekend which is Karneval in Germany. I'm not such a big Karneval fan, I never take off of work for it, but I do usually go out on the Saturday night and to the parades on Sunday, because I do enjoy when the Germans relax and have fun. So it puts me out of commission, really, for Saturday, but I'll still get to go to the children's parades on Sunday.
I am really looking forward to Saturday. Having done genealogy research now for over three years and to have just fallen into this is fantastic.
Sunday, February 11, 2007
what a great valentine's present
Join Israel's nationwide bone marrow donor recruitment drive on Wednesday February 14, at testing station throughout the country! --> http://www.ezer-mizion.org.il/e/310/94.htm
Country-wide. I just cannot begin to fathom. What a powerful change of focus to this commercialized Hallmark holiday.
I come upon this point because one of my friends from my California days--a Canadian who currently lives/works in Israel, sent this over:
Why she mentions "chances of finding someone in Israel are higher than finding abroad" is because tissue type is inherited, so you will more likely find someone who matches you based on race/ethnicity. That's not to say that you cannot find your match far away, just that the odds tend to be better, closer. You have the ability to say that you will donate anywhere in the world. That tends to make sense for us mobile, immigrating, transitory expats.
When I lived in California I actually knew someone who donated. She was Filipina, her parents emigrated from the Phillipines to California, like many Califonians. She was a match for a little boy who was also Filipino and living in California. How small the world is.
Country-wide. I just cannot begin to fathom. What a powerful change of focus to this commercialized Hallmark holiday.
I come upon this point because one of my friends from my California days--a Canadian who currently lives/works in Israel, sent this over:
- A friend of mine is trying to find a matching bone marrow donor for her 8 year old nephew who has leukemia. There is a (in Israel) country-wide campaign to get folks to register their blood samples in the hopes of finding an exact match. Chances of finding someone in Israel are higher than finding abroad, however, it never hurts to ask all over. Thanks so much for your consideration! Please pass on to anyone who may be interested. This will help other cancer patients as well to find life-saving transplants.
If you are outside of Israel, you may register your blood at any registry and ask to be matched to needy recipients anywhere in the world.Anna
More details at this website: http://www.ezer-mizion.org.il/ (english)
Why she mentions "chances of finding someone in Israel are higher than finding abroad" is because tissue type is inherited, so you will more likely find someone who matches you based on race/ethnicity. That's not to say that you cannot find your match far away, just that the odds tend to be better, closer. You have the ability to say that you will donate anywhere in the world. That tends to make sense for us mobile, immigrating, transitory expats.
When I lived in California I actually knew someone who donated. She was Filipina, her parents emigrated from the Phillipines to California, like many Califonians. She was a match for a little boy who was also Filipino and living in California. How small the world is.
Saturday, February 10, 2007
Making popcorn in Germany
When I was in the Netherlands a few weeks back, I couldn't resist buying this:
In particular, I bought it because D. was with me, and one of his favorite topics, is noting how Americans display the flag on everything. When we're in the US he must point it out at each instance--in front of the bank, the post office, the school, on a car's bumper sticker, on a kid's t-shirt, etc. (OK, maybe we do display the flag a lot.)
But this is different, because it's the Dutch displaying it.
Also I bought it because here ready to eat popcorn is just different. First, I find the majority of the popcorn sold in the supermarket to be 'sweet' instead of 'salty' (so microwaveable popcorn bags like in the US but with sugar instead of salt inside--um, no), or at the movie theaters I frequent it tends to be stale, dry and like cardboard, like it was made five hours ago with sub-standard corn. Orville Redenbacher would die a second death if he were to step into a certain theater frequented by English speakers in Koeln and try their popcorn.
After you've bought your popcorn, you need to have a place to pop it, something with a lid. Here is my wok from Aldi Sued, but you can also use a deep pot with a lid. The wok is better because then you can watch it popping and better monitor progress. Also, because the popped kernals fly up and then deflect off the top onto the sloped side rather than the bottom, they are out of the hottest heat and oil, leaving the unpopped kernals at the bottom to get their turn, thus minimizing burning.
Here it is completed. Well done Aldi Sued wok!
Next step, scoop it into a bowl and add whatever you want on top. It's a little difficult to scoop out of the wok without dropping a few pieces, so that's why you don't want to add your melted butter or whatever before scooping.
While you could add butter or salt, I prefer to sprinkle on some nutritional yeast, a vegetarian staple. I discovered nutrional yeast a few years ago when I was a vegan. It's an interesting item for cooking, because it is a powerful source of Vitamin B12, as well as adding a bit of a nutty flavor to any recipe.
Enjoy!
In particular, I bought it because D. was with me, and one of his favorite topics, is noting how Americans display the flag on everything. When we're in the US he must point it out at each instance--in front of the bank, the post office, the school, on a car's bumper sticker, on a kid's t-shirt, etc. (OK, maybe we do display the flag a lot.)
But this is different, because it's the Dutch displaying it.
Also I bought it because here ready to eat popcorn is just different. First, I find the majority of the popcorn sold in the supermarket to be 'sweet' instead of 'salty' (so microwaveable popcorn bags like in the US but with sugar instead of salt inside--um, no), or at the movie theaters I frequent it tends to be stale, dry and like cardboard, like it was made five hours ago with sub-standard corn. Orville Redenbacher would die a second death if he were to step into a certain theater frequented by English speakers in Koeln and try their popcorn.
After you've bought your popcorn, you need to have a place to pop it, something with a lid. Here is my wok from Aldi Sued, but you can also use a deep pot with a lid. The wok is better because then you can watch it popping and better monitor progress. Also, because the popped kernals fly up and then deflect off the top onto the sloped side rather than the bottom, they are out of the hottest heat and oil, leaving the unpopped kernals at the bottom to get their turn, thus minimizing burning.
Here it is completed. Well done Aldi Sued wok!
Next step, scoop it into a bowl and add whatever you want on top. It's a little difficult to scoop out of the wok without dropping a few pieces, so that's why you don't want to add your melted butter or whatever before scooping.
While you could add butter or salt, I prefer to sprinkle on some nutritional yeast, a vegetarian staple. I discovered nutrional yeast a few years ago when I was a vegan. It's an interesting item for cooking, because it is a powerful source of Vitamin B12, as well as adding a bit of a nutty flavor to any recipe.
Enjoy!
Wednesday, February 07, 2007
A dog with a job - part 2
In the tiny town of B. where I live, it's a little like Mr. Rodger's neighborhood. Everyone knows everyone else, and people stop to chat when they see each other. I lived 15 months in Koeln and knew only the people who ran my local bar; otherwise, I was just a face in the crowd in the supermarket, the dry cleaners, the fruit/veg market, pizza place, etc. Not here in B.
Here in B. everyone has a role and they are known by it, just like in Mr. Rodger's neighborhood. Hello Turkish Pizza shop owner! Hello Seamstress! Hello Retired Neighbor! My role is to be the American foreigner. I actually go into shops here and people say 'hello American!' Apparently I am the only American in B. which may very well be, although there are quite a few foreigners of other nationalities here working for the company where I work.
One of the highlights of my day is seeing Mr. Dog who I have written about in the past. It's now pretty regular, each morning when I scrape into the office at 08:45 it's just the time that the Post Frau is completing her morning route and about to leave company J. She always gives a friendly wave and a hello as we pass or a toot of the horn and wave if she is in her delivery vehicle and I am on foot en route to the office.
Recently, I have noticed that Mr. Dog has not been accompanying her on the route. I passed by her in the main entrance and of course she stopped to chat because everyone stops to chat in B. I asked about Mr. Dog and she explained he has a bit of 'Verzagtheit'. OK, outside my German vocabulary. So she takes the time to explain in simple German--the weather outside--it's bad, it's cold, it's rainy, it makes him tired and it is not fun for him to come along. And further, the couch inside is warm and comfortable, so he prefers to stay at home and sleep.
Later, I asked Leo, the best online German dictionary in the world. It seems that Mr. Dog is despondent, disheartened, down-hearted, and of weak spirit. Oh dear! Such is a dog's life in Germany.
Here in B. everyone has a role and they are known by it, just like in Mr. Rodger's neighborhood. Hello Turkish Pizza shop owner! Hello Seamstress! Hello Retired Neighbor! My role is to be the American foreigner. I actually go into shops here and people say 'hello American!' Apparently I am the only American in B. which may very well be, although there are quite a few foreigners of other nationalities here working for the company where I work.
One of the highlights of my day is seeing Mr. Dog who I have written about in the past. It's now pretty regular, each morning when I scrape into the office at 08:45 it's just the time that the Post Frau is completing her morning route and about to leave company J. She always gives a friendly wave and a hello as we pass or a toot of the horn and wave if she is in her delivery vehicle and I am on foot en route to the office.
Recently, I have noticed that Mr. Dog has not been accompanying her on the route. I passed by her in the main entrance and of course she stopped to chat because everyone stops to chat in B. I asked about Mr. Dog and she explained he has a bit of 'Verzagtheit'. OK, outside my German vocabulary. So she takes the time to explain in simple German--the weather outside--it's bad, it's cold, it's rainy, it makes him tired and it is not fun for him to come along. And further, the couch inside is warm and comfortable, so he prefers to stay at home and sleep.
Later, I asked Leo, the best online German dictionary in the world. It seems that Mr. Dog is despondent, disheartened, down-hearted, and of weak spirit. Oh dear! Such is a dog's life in Germany.
Monday, February 05, 2007
say what, eh?
In the office
Heather: How do i save a voicemail?
-->(nevermind that's she's been using the same phone for three years--she's phone techonology inept.)
German: Moment
--> (efficiently whipping out the magic instructions from hiding place in the office. Nevermind that the same German has also been using said phones for three years.)
Heather waits 30 seconds.
Heather: I think I can just hang up, it will auto-save.
German2: Yes
German: Press star 7 6.
Heather: No, that's delete. That's the only one I know.
German: Star 7 6.
German2 now looks over the shoulder of German.
Heather: Nevermind, I think it timed me out anyway.
German: A-ha! Star 7 6 to un-do a delete.
Heather: Swell, the same thing to delete and un-delete. But what's a save?
German2: Just hang up. (Keep in mind German 2 has only been here six months, so he's running circles around our phone knowledge here.)
Heather: Why must this phone system be so complex. I'm glad you--a German--can't figure out the German phone.
German: This phone is not German; Nortel is American.
Heather: Nortel is not an American company.
German2: It's Swedish.
German and Heather (simultaneously): No, it's not.
German starts fervently typing. Heather knows very well that he's looking for Nortel online.
German: Ha!
Heather: OK, so what is it?
German: Toronto, Ontario. (pause) That's Canada?
Heather: Yes, that's Canada. So not America. (smirking because she's got him.)
German hating to be wrong.
German: Well, close enough, it might as well be America.
Heather: I'm not sure our neighbors to the North would exactly see it that way since they are their own country.
(Heather makes mental note. Maybe this is the equivalent of me mixing up the Germans and Dutch.)
Heather: How do i save a voicemail?
-->(nevermind that's she's been using the same phone for three years--she's phone techonology inept.)
German: Moment
--> (efficiently whipping out the magic instructions from hiding place in the office. Nevermind that the same German has also been using said phones for three years.)
Heather waits 30 seconds.
Heather: I think I can just hang up, it will auto-save.
German2: Yes
German: Press star 7 6.
Heather: No, that's delete. That's the only one I know.
German: Star 7 6.
German2 now looks over the shoulder of German.
Heather: Nevermind, I think it timed me out anyway.
German: A-ha! Star 7 6 to un-do a delete.
Heather: Swell, the same thing to delete and un-delete. But what's a save?
German2: Just hang up. (Keep in mind German 2 has only been here six months, so he's running circles around our phone knowledge here.)
Heather: Why must this phone system be so complex. I'm glad you--a German--can't figure out the German phone.
German: This phone is not German; Nortel is American.
Heather: Nortel is not an American company.
German2: It's Swedish.
German and Heather (simultaneously): No, it's not.
German starts fervently typing. Heather knows very well that he's looking for Nortel online.
German: Ha!
Heather: OK, so what is it?
German: Toronto, Ontario. (pause) That's Canada?
Heather: Yes, that's Canada. So not America. (smirking because she's got him.)
German hating to be wrong.
German: Well, close enough, it might as well be America.
Heather: I'm not sure our neighbors to the North would exactly see it that way since they are their own country.
(Heather makes mental note. Maybe this is the equivalent of me mixing up the Germans and Dutch.)
Sunday, February 04, 2007
Movie Review - Unser Täglich Brot
I rarely watch movies, (no matter where I am), but today D. and I saw Unser Täglich Brot at Filmpalette in Koeln. It's a documentary without commentary about industrial food production in Europe. STOP reading HERE if you plan to see the movie and don't want to be tainted by my below thoughts until after seeing it. ;-)
Overall, I found it to be very honest and neutral in its presentation. If you look at the film's website link above, don't be put off from the film that on first glance it seems like a PETA advert with the meat preparation photos shown. The film probably spends 60% of the time on cows, chicken, and pork, with 10% on fish and the remaining 30% on fruits/veg processing, and all is presented in a daily, matter of fact way, not sensationalized.
I would be interested to find anyone who does not learn something new from this film. D. and I were discussing post-film, there are many food preparations/methods/farm machines, that we did not know existed; as well as trying to comprehend the vast amounts of food that is prepared on a large scale. When you see how Aldi, Pennymarkt, and Plus sell fruit and vegetables in their shrinkwrapped packaging, it's easy to make the connection to this film when you see the women packing them into the containers of six, just like they sell it there.
If you live in Europe, I'd call it a must see.
Overall, I found it to be very honest and neutral in its presentation. If you look at the film's website link above, don't be put off from the film that on first glance it seems like a PETA advert with the meat preparation photos shown. The film probably spends 60% of the time on cows, chicken, and pork, with 10% on fish and the remaining 30% on fruits/veg processing, and all is presented in a daily, matter of fact way, not sensationalized.
I would be interested to find anyone who does not learn something new from this film. D. and I were discussing post-film, there are many food preparations/methods/farm machines, that we did not know existed; as well as trying to comprehend the vast amounts of food that is prepared on a large scale. When you see how Aldi, Pennymarkt, and Plus sell fruit and vegetables in their shrinkwrapped packaging, it's easy to make the connection to this film when you see the women packing them into the containers of six, just like they sell it there.
If you live in Europe, I'd call it a must see.
Monday, January 29, 2007
love of the game
Monday nights is Polish class, Wednesday morning is German. Each is a private lesson with a great instructor. They are different in methodology, but both skilled and adaptive to my learning style so I feel that I am progressing in both.
Language comes easy to me, excluding tonal languages such as Chinese. It's a game, the words, and how you put them together are the rules. The better you know the rules the more you can strategize to win the game.
Others eloquently state how learning a language is akin to gaining another soul or a inside window into a culture, and it remains true. When a word/concept does not exist for a word/concept that you know, it tells you something about the culture. Or when one word exists elsewhere, but not in your language.
As time goes on, however, it becomes more and more clear that I do not love German, and I never will and in learning it I'm going through the motions. I'm fortunate that I pick up so much without trying, so that makes things passable. When I speak Spanish or my simple Polish, it flows. My German is more just 'there'. It's like something that is not noticed when it is acceptable. No one extols the virtue of a coat hanger or a fork, it's only noticed when it is not acceptable. My Spanish or Polish, however, is like my shoes from Paris. My shoes from Paris are noticed and admired and make me feel nice because they are comfortable yet they look damn good at the same time.
In thinking further, it is not necessarily anything about the Germans in particular or their language, besides the things that every other expat blog details greatly about life in Germany.
More specifically, I think of German like I think of swimming. Growing up in the Phillyland area, everyone learns how to swim, especially because summer weekends are spent at the Jersey shore and that is one hell of an undertow. You must learn to swim at a passable level as a child. And every child lives somewhere near a public pool that won't break the bank. I, like all of my peers, learned how to swim over a few summers so that I passed the intermediate level requirements. It involved getting into the pool at the god-awful hour of 7 something in the morning, because my parents worked and I was therefore a part of the early morning round of swimming lessons.
I loathe cold water and I particularly loathe mornings. Putting them together makes it an exponential loathing. I learned how to swim because my mother would have insisted on many more years of such requirements if I could not suck it up and get the skill. Also, because it's an expected skill in that area of the country and there are many activities in addition to the shore that involve water exposure, and quite frankly, growing up in Philadelphia is tough and you will get no California psycho-babble in reference to fear of water. Instead you will get pushed in the deep end and be expected to learn the hard way if you can't get things together in a reasonable amount of time. Although granted, if I would have had a love of the water I could have pursued it. A few souls always do and there are those kids who go on to swim team or related things like crew.
I think of learning the German language in the same way. Living in Germany without German is like living in Philly and not being able to swim. Sure you can live as such, but you won't be able to safely go into the ocean or to a pool party so you're limited. I will never take a German literature course or speak like a angel in German. Just like I will never swim competitively or go to my local public pool here at 7 AM for the early AM swim. It just doesn't mean enough to me.
As long as I can get around acceptably and I am not being impeded on the lack of a skill level, I probably will not go to great lengths to increase my current established skill set. Sure, I'll go to class and perform at a reasonable level because my company pays for it but I will not be the best and at this point in life, it is precisely because I don't see the point that I really don't care, that I need to acknowledge that. And acknowledging that is immensely freeing.
Language comes easy to me, excluding tonal languages such as Chinese. It's a game, the words, and how you put them together are the rules. The better you know the rules the more you can strategize to win the game.
Others eloquently state how learning a language is akin to gaining another soul or a inside window into a culture, and it remains true. When a word/concept does not exist for a word/concept that you know, it tells you something about the culture. Or when one word exists elsewhere, but not in your language.
As time goes on, however, it becomes more and more clear that I do not love German, and I never will and in learning it I'm going through the motions. I'm fortunate that I pick up so much without trying, so that makes things passable. When I speak Spanish or my simple Polish, it flows. My German is more just 'there'. It's like something that is not noticed when it is acceptable. No one extols the virtue of a coat hanger or a fork, it's only noticed when it is not acceptable. My Spanish or Polish, however, is like my shoes from Paris. My shoes from Paris are noticed and admired and make me feel nice because they are comfortable yet they look damn good at the same time.
In thinking further, it is not necessarily anything about the Germans in particular or their language, besides the things that every other expat blog details greatly about life in Germany.
More specifically, I think of German like I think of swimming. Growing up in the Phillyland area, everyone learns how to swim, especially because summer weekends are spent at the Jersey shore and that is one hell of an undertow. You must learn to swim at a passable level as a child. And every child lives somewhere near a public pool that won't break the bank. I, like all of my peers, learned how to swim over a few summers so that I passed the intermediate level requirements. It involved getting into the pool at the god-awful hour of 7 something in the morning, because my parents worked and I was therefore a part of the early morning round of swimming lessons.
I loathe cold water and I particularly loathe mornings. Putting them together makes it an exponential loathing. I learned how to swim because my mother would have insisted on many more years of such requirements if I could not suck it up and get the skill. Also, because it's an expected skill in that area of the country and there are many activities in addition to the shore that involve water exposure, and quite frankly, growing up in Philadelphia is tough and you will get no California psycho-babble in reference to fear of water. Instead you will get pushed in the deep end and be expected to learn the hard way if you can't get things together in a reasonable amount of time. Although granted, if I would have had a love of the water I could have pursued it. A few souls always do and there are those kids who go on to swim team or related things like crew.
I think of learning the German language in the same way. Living in Germany without German is like living in Philly and not being able to swim. Sure you can live as such, but you won't be able to safely go into the ocean or to a pool party so you're limited. I will never take a German literature course or speak like a angel in German. Just like I will never swim competitively or go to my local public pool here at 7 AM for the early AM swim. It just doesn't mean enough to me.
As long as I can get around acceptably and I am not being impeded on the lack of a skill level, I probably will not go to great lengths to increase my current established skill set. Sure, I'll go to class and perform at a reasonable level because my company pays for it but I will not be the best and at this point in life, it is precisely because I don't see the point that I really don't care, that I need to acknowledge that. And acknowledging that is immensely freeing.
Sunday, January 28, 2007
while it was snowing in Germany
While my expat blogger colleagues have been writing about the winter weather, I've been in the sun in Barcelona. En route to Barcelona, I had to switch planes in Palma de Mallorca. As the second plane was 3 hours late in coming from Stuttgart, I had plenty of time to wander around the airport.
So some photos from the Mallorca aipoirt. I took this photo to show the water fountain. While water fountains are all over US airports and many European airports, they are non-existent in the German aiports I travel through (primarily Cologne and D'dorf).
Then a random photo inside the airport because they kept moving the gate during the three hours of delay. So we were supposed to be at gate 91, and they said a 30 minute delay. Then that posting went away as they took over the gate for a different flight. On the TV monitors it said gate 85, but upon going there, there was nothing on the directional sign, so I followed the herd down to the Air Berlin info desk, where they said to go to gate 81. But the TV says 86. It does? One of the Air Berlin workers goes to look, and now it's saying 80. So we traipse down to 80.
Finally, after spending two hours gate chasing, we seemed to settle at one gate. Unfortunately, that's when they pushed it back an entire hour. In good news, they sent us to the snack bar where they gave us sandwichs and soda. Where the man is standing is the counter where they gave out the sandwiches. It was very high tech, they looked at your boarding pass and then ripped off a tiny bit of the corner upon giving you a sandwich, I guess to keep you from going for two. OK, it was nice and all for them to feed us, but I wouldn't have wanted two.
Finally we took off after three hours. Here is a view of Mallorca from the air. Pretty, no?
The work meetings were OK, I met a lot of people whom I have not encountered previously. My long weekend then began at 16.40 on Thursday when arrived back at the airport, catching a ride with some colleagues from some remote site that was an hour away.
I took the bus from the airport into town. It is only 3.75 euros and comes around every 10 minutes, sometimes more or less depending on when in the day you go. I took it to Placa de Catalunya which is a big square. From there I walked to my hotel, which is around 25 minutes by foot. I usually stay at the same hotel because Barcelona is so big and I know where this hotel is, as well as it is a reasonable option price-wise. On Friday I was out and about in the neighborhood, here are some photos:
Finally, I made it to the shoe Mecca, the Camper shoe outlet, or "Re-Camper" as they call it. I bought only one pair of shoes, I'll get a photo of them for a future blog. While I was at the outlet complex, they were photographing an advert. So part of the walkway was roped off and in the center in the bright lights were models on motorcycles. The advert-->it must have been for a cookie because the leather-clad models were posing holding the cookie, about to bite into the cookie.
Later, back in town on Friday evening I took it easy with a coffee at a local cafe. On Saturday it was more of the same, just lazing around the neighborhood, basically. At one point I wandering into a market. It had many stands with fresh meats, cheeses, fish, vegetables, and fruits. I stopped for an espresso and watched the shoppers. Life in Spain moves slow.
Later, I went to a neighborhood cafe near the hotel. My Spanish is good enough to please the kind Spanish people, especially as the places I was going were not tourist heavy. At the cafe I ordered a glass of wine and a slice of tortilla. The woman then offered me, 'bread with tomato'. Um, I understand the Spanish words, but not the point. 'Ah carina, I explain.' In Catalunya (the region of Spain that includes Barcelona as its capital, and where they also speak Catalan in addition to Spanish), it is customary to eat bread with tomato as a starter or as a snack. It's bread from a baguette which is smeared with a tomato, so it's a little wet and then it's dabbed with olive oil. You don't actually really get tomato on the bread when you eat it, only the juice and maybe a few of the seeds from the tomato. And she was so sweet, she did not charge me anything for it, although later when I saw some cafe menus I saw it on there for a small amount, 1 euro or under.
Then, I went to a bar where I had previously gone with my travel partner in crime, JF. She and I stopped in this hole in the wall where they serve fabulous wine for 1 euro a glass, in heavy glass jars. We had extremely low expectations and ended up staying there for hours because the wine was so good and the atmosphere was comfortable and relaxed.
This time I was alone, so I got a glass of wine and watched the activities. There were perhaps 8 people around the bar, one of them had a guitar out and was playing. The two bar staff were putting away the tapas. In the background, on TV were the 3 tenors, and a little girl in the bar was enchanted by them. As they started to shut off lights and give signs that the bar was closing (a little surprising at 21.30 for Spain), two older gentlemen, looking at least 70, who had come in for a glass of red wine went to pay and said 'and we invite the chica', so they were paying for me. I said no, it's ok, and they said, no, we do. As I did not want to disrespect their hospitality I let them. So very sweet.
So some photos from the Mallorca aipoirt. I took this photo to show the water fountain. While water fountains are all over US airports and many European airports, they are non-existent in the German aiports I travel through (primarily Cologne and D'dorf).
Then a random photo inside the airport because they kept moving the gate during the three hours of delay. So we were supposed to be at gate 91, and they said a 30 minute delay. Then that posting went away as they took over the gate for a different flight. On the TV monitors it said gate 85, but upon going there, there was nothing on the directional sign, so I followed the herd down to the Air Berlin info desk, where they said to go to gate 81. But the TV says 86. It does? One of the Air Berlin workers goes to look, and now it's saying 80. So we traipse down to 80.Finally, after spending two hours gate chasing, we seemed to settle at one gate. Unfortunately, that's when they pushed it back an entire hour. In good news, they sent us to the snack bar where they gave us sandwichs and soda. Where the man is standing is the counter where they gave out the sandwiches. It was very high tech, they looked at your boarding pass and then ripped off a tiny bit of the corner upon giving you a sandwich, I guess to keep you from going for two. OK, it was nice and all for them to feed us, but I wouldn't have wanted two.Finally we took off after three hours. Here is a view of Mallorca from the air. Pretty, no?The work meetings were OK, I met a lot of people whom I have not encountered previously. My long weekend then began at 16.40 on Thursday when arrived back at the airport, catching a ride with some colleagues from some remote site that was an hour away.I took the bus from the airport into town. It is only 3.75 euros and comes around every 10 minutes, sometimes more or less depending on when in the day you go. I took it to Placa de Catalunya which is a big square. From there I walked to my hotel, which is around 25 minutes by foot. I usually stay at the same hotel because Barcelona is so big and I know where this hotel is, as well as it is a reasonable option price-wise. On Friday I was out and about in the neighborhood, here are some photos:
Finally, I made it to the shoe Mecca, the Camper shoe outlet, or "Re-Camper" as they call it. I bought only one pair of shoes, I'll get a photo of them for a future blog. While I was at the outlet complex, they were photographing an advert. So part of the walkway was roped off and in the center in the bright lights were models on motorcycles. The advert-->it must have been for a cookie because the leather-clad models were posing holding the cookie, about to bite into the cookie.
Later, back in town on Friday evening I took it easy with a coffee at a local cafe. On Saturday it was more of the same, just lazing around the neighborhood, basically. At one point I wandering into a market. It had many stands with fresh meats, cheeses, fish, vegetables, and fruits. I stopped for an espresso and watched the shoppers. Life in Spain moves slow.Later, I went to a neighborhood cafe near the hotel. My Spanish is good enough to please the kind Spanish people, especially as the places I was going were not tourist heavy. At the cafe I ordered a glass of wine and a slice of tortilla. The woman then offered me, 'bread with tomato'. Um, I understand the Spanish words, but not the point. 'Ah carina, I explain.' In Catalunya (the region of Spain that includes Barcelona as its capital, and where they also speak Catalan in addition to Spanish), it is customary to eat bread with tomato as a starter or as a snack. It's bread from a baguette which is smeared with a tomato, so it's a little wet and then it's dabbed with olive oil. You don't actually really get tomato on the bread when you eat it, only the juice and maybe a few of the seeds from the tomato. And she was so sweet, she did not charge me anything for it, although later when I saw some cafe menus I saw it on there for a small amount, 1 euro or under.Then, I went to a bar where I had previously gone with my travel partner in crime, JF. She and I stopped in this hole in the wall where they serve fabulous wine for 1 euro a glass, in heavy glass jars. We had extremely low expectations and ended up staying there for hours because the wine was so good and the atmosphere was comfortable and relaxed.
This time I was alone, so I got a glass of wine and watched the activities. There were perhaps 8 people around the bar, one of them had a guitar out and was playing. The two bar staff were putting away the tapas. In the background, on TV were the 3 tenors, and a little girl in the bar was enchanted by them. As they started to shut off lights and give signs that the bar was closing (a little surprising at 21.30 for Spain), two older gentlemen, looking at least 70, who had come in for a glass of red wine went to pay and said 'and we invite the chica', so they were paying for me. I said no, it's ok, and they said, no, we do. As I did not want to disrespect their hospitality I let them. So very sweet.
Since it was only 21.30 I stopped at a third cafe. It was open later and some people were there having long dinners, others were having tapas with a bottle of win, others were popping in just for a coffee or a beer at the bar. It was slow as it got a little later in the evening and I was chatting with the bartender so I asked if I could get a photo of the bar, if that was ok. Of course it was ok and then he offered to take a photo of me in the bar, recognizing that I was a goofy tourist. I give you just the photo I took.
The next morning (Saturday), I had most of the day as the flight did not leave until 18.00. First stop was to a sidewalk cafe for some fresh squeezed orange juice. The weather was 10 C with blazing sunshine. I sat there for a while watching many people walking all varieties of dogs.
Then I did some final wandering around. Here is one of the bull-fighting rings that is still in use. It is tough to see in this photo, but a motif prevalent in the blue design is the Star of David.
Then, I went to the supermarket to pick up wine and oreos and to the cafe for a coffee. I picked up a salad and fresh tomatos and enjoyed it on a park bench. I went back to the indoor market to buy some fine looking olives. I also bought a slice of tortilla to take with me to eat at the airport later. In speaking with the woman she was asking where I was from, etc. and what did I think of people from Spain? She then also packed with 'as a little gift' one of her home-made empanadillas for me. It was about the size of a pirogi, a deep-fried wonder. Once again, the people of Spain, so very nice.
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
off to spain with space in the suitcase for shoes
in a mere 12 hours i will be en route and basically offline until sunday.
-->wednesday is getting there and getting some work done, before meeting up with some work people in the evening, whom i do not yet know.
-->thursday is an all day work meeting with pure IT network/infrastructure people. should be fascinating.
-->friday i took a vacation day. will wander around barcelona a bit, and then will be venturing out to the camper shoe outlet. i went there once previously and it's a bit of a hassle to get out there, but the prices are fantastic if you like camper shoes. last time i managed only two pairs and my shopping colleague bought five pairs.
the secret is to go on a monday through friday. and to get the bus to La Roca Village. it's easy to find if you take the metro to the station called Fabra i Puig and then exit the station to the side with all of the bus stops. just look for the tourists standing around with a gleam of hope of good shoes in their eyes, or look at the signposts in each bus stall until you find the one that goes to Granollers Station and then La Roca Village. it tends to be the only bus stop with tourists standing in front, guidebooks in hand, so it's really not difficult to find.
-->saturday, some shopping for nice white wine to bring back and languishing in a cafe with tapas until it's time to leave early evening.
-->wednesday is getting there and getting some work done, before meeting up with some work people in the evening, whom i do not yet know.
-->thursday is an all day work meeting with pure IT network/infrastructure people. should be fascinating.
-->friday i took a vacation day. will wander around barcelona a bit, and then will be venturing out to the camper shoe outlet. i went there once previously and it's a bit of a hassle to get out there, but the prices are fantastic if you like camper shoes. last time i managed only two pairs and my shopping colleague bought five pairs.
the secret is to go on a monday through friday. and to get the bus to La Roca Village. it's easy to find if you take the metro to the station called Fabra i Puig and then exit the station to the side with all of the bus stops. just look for the tourists standing around with a gleam of hope of good shoes in their eyes, or look at the signposts in each bus stall until you find the one that goes to Granollers Station and then La Roca Village. it tends to be the only bus stop with tourists standing in front, guidebooks in hand, so it's really not difficult to find.
-->saturday, some shopping for nice white wine to bring back and languishing in a cafe with tapas until it's time to leave early evening.
Sunday, January 21, 2007
low-carb vegetarianism - it's a wrap
days 3-5 were just blah, and on morning 5 i woke up ill, splattering over the pavement ill, which put an abrupt halt to this little experiment, as not even the worst flu bug or excessive alcohol consumption can take me to that level.
i only know people who have done low carb the 'normal' (read: non-vegetarian) way, but from this perspective, a quick summary of a few positive things on doing this the vegetarian way:
1. at its core it emphasized non-processed foods, and staying away from alcohol and caffeine, always a good thing.
2. the recipes involved were quick to do and ingredients easy to find.
3. i never knew i liked goat cheese until now.
some negatives:
1. a severe lack of energy as time went on. i could not go hiking in the woods on sunday because i just was not up to it. i could see how a sedentary office worker would like this as it is a way to lose weight without physical activity.
2. i could not wrap my head around the idea that an apple could be evil; but that is the very core of the eating style, to eschew high carbohydrate foods.
so i'm back to being a 'normal vegetarian minus dairy'. i'm keeping the book, there are some decent recipes in it taste-wise, but i'll supplement them with a side of bread or rice. in particular, D. found the avocado dip i made from the book to be my best dip ever so all is not lost.
D. occasionally cooks for me, which i ever appreciate because he makes a lovely veg meal considering he is not vegetarian himself. here is one of his recent ones, it's green beans, brussel sprouts, mushrooms in a softly, understated herb sauce served on a bed of lettuce leaves:
i only know people who have done low carb the 'normal' (read: non-vegetarian) way, but from this perspective, a quick summary of a few positive things on doing this the vegetarian way:
1. at its core it emphasized non-processed foods, and staying away from alcohol and caffeine, always a good thing.
2. the recipes involved were quick to do and ingredients easy to find.
3. i never knew i liked goat cheese until now.
some negatives:
1. a severe lack of energy as time went on. i could not go hiking in the woods on sunday because i just was not up to it. i could see how a sedentary office worker would like this as it is a way to lose weight without physical activity.
2. i could not wrap my head around the idea that an apple could be evil; but that is the very core of the eating style, to eschew high carbohydrate foods.
so i'm back to being a 'normal vegetarian minus dairy'. i'm keeping the book, there are some decent recipes in it taste-wise, but i'll supplement them with a side of bread or rice. in particular, D. found the avocado dip i made from the book to be my best dip ever so all is not lost.
D. occasionally cooks for me, which i ever appreciate because he makes a lovely veg meal considering he is not vegetarian himself. here is one of his recent ones, it's green beans, brussel sprouts, mushrooms in a softly, understated herb sauce served on a bed of lettuce leaves:
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
fun with grammar, part 1
part of the reason i stay in germany when all else is grim is because of my work colleagues. nevermind their personal qualities of being nice and such. it's a decidedly non-german environment (everyone is 'du') and sarcasm and overall general nonsense abounds and generally rules, while simultaneously switching back and forth between german and english generally creates more fodder for our capers.
it all starts innocently enough, with someone asking me how to say something in english properly, or because they receive an email and understand all of it except for an unfamilar word or phrase or i ask for a word in german. fair enough, but then it tends to wander into slang and side conversations and all heck breaks loose, in particular because my german colleagues always learned 'school english' and are pretty good at it. what they are not good at is the 'casual english' or slang that one gets either from tv/movies or from being in a country.
my german work colleague J. was using 'barking up the wrong tree' in the correct situations for a few weeks having picked it up from someone else, but not knowing what 'barking' meant until last week. that was only because my other colleague M. sent me a note ending with 'or do i go off on a woody way?' umm. say what? so she then types the german 'auf dem Holzweg' thinking that perhaps she mistyped something in english. nope, the english is clear, but what are you saying? when i asked J. he made the link to barking up the wrong tree. so apparently americans bark up the incorrect tree while germans head off on a trail into the woods.
basic enough on the above, but have you ever tried to explain 'booty call' to a german? we are accustomed in the office to not directly translate word to word, but to explain instead because often if it's a difficult or rarely used word in either english or german, then it's easier just to give the definition. gooooood one to try to explain. our favorite learning tool in the office is an online dictionary that also gives common phrases, and we often go to ask Leo but he didn't know this one. apparently Leo doesn't get out much.
the typical mentality is for germans to take apart the english words or to relate to other words, because german tends to be made up of building blocks of words. much easier for an english speaker to pick up german vocabulary than the other way around. for example, if you know 'fahren' = to go by some means other than walking, then it's easy to figure out that 'schnell fahren' = (fast to go, literally) or to speed, 'ski fahren' = (ski to go) or to ski, then you can get the root in other places like 'Busfahrt' = bus ride, 'Busfahrer' = bus driver, and on and on.
so enough grammar, back to the booty call. the first german instinct was to point to the shoe. 'like boot'? um, no. and then the explanation. then the german logic again. 'but why booty?' here we go on another explanation.
and then 'stage three' of the new grammar is a german utilizing the new phrase constantly for about a week after learning it, trying to use it to tweak how the exact usage should be. so a week of 'mrs. x is at lunch with mr. y' 'oh! so is it a booty call?' 'no, there is nothing sexual happening it's only a lunch meeting.' 'ach so.' (sound of pencil on notebook in the background, noting this clarification). 'your boss is late, is he on a bc?' 'is he what?' 'a bc, a booty call-or can you not abbreviate that one? you americans abbreviate things usually' 'well, maybe not that one so much.' 'ok.' (more pencil scratching)
teaching a german a new english phrase: 5 minutes
clarifying this new phrase use over a week: 10 minutes
hearing a german whip out 'booty call' in a perfect context to an unprepared native english speaker: priceless.
it all starts innocently enough, with someone asking me how to say something in english properly, or because they receive an email and understand all of it except for an unfamilar word or phrase or i ask for a word in german. fair enough, but then it tends to wander into slang and side conversations and all heck breaks loose, in particular because my german colleagues always learned 'school english' and are pretty good at it. what they are not good at is the 'casual english' or slang that one gets either from tv/movies or from being in a country.
my german work colleague J. was using 'barking up the wrong tree' in the correct situations for a few weeks having picked it up from someone else, but not knowing what 'barking' meant until last week. that was only because my other colleague M. sent me a note ending with 'or do i go off on a woody way?' umm. say what? so she then types the german 'auf dem Holzweg' thinking that perhaps she mistyped something in english. nope, the english is clear, but what are you saying? when i asked J. he made the link to barking up the wrong tree. so apparently americans bark up the incorrect tree while germans head off on a trail into the woods.
basic enough on the above, but have you ever tried to explain 'booty call' to a german? we are accustomed in the office to not directly translate word to word, but to explain instead because often if it's a difficult or rarely used word in either english or german, then it's easier just to give the definition. gooooood one to try to explain. our favorite learning tool in the office is an online dictionary that also gives common phrases, and we often go to ask Leo but he didn't know this one. apparently Leo doesn't get out much.
the typical mentality is for germans to take apart the english words or to relate to other words, because german tends to be made up of building blocks of words. much easier for an english speaker to pick up german vocabulary than the other way around. for example, if you know 'fahren' = to go by some means other than walking, then it's easy to figure out that 'schnell fahren' = (fast to go, literally) or to speed, 'ski fahren' = (ski to go) or to ski, then you can get the root in other places like 'Busfahrt' = bus ride, 'Busfahrer' = bus driver, and on and on.
so enough grammar, back to the booty call. the first german instinct was to point to the shoe. 'like boot'? um, no. and then the explanation. then the german logic again. 'but why booty?' here we go on another explanation.
and then 'stage three' of the new grammar is a german utilizing the new phrase constantly for about a week after learning it, trying to use it to tweak how the exact usage should be. so a week of 'mrs. x is at lunch with mr. y' 'oh! so is it a booty call?' 'no, there is nothing sexual happening it's only a lunch meeting.' 'ach so.' (sound of pencil on notebook in the background, noting this clarification). 'your boss is late, is he on a bc?' 'is he what?' 'a bc, a booty call-or can you not abbreviate that one? you americans abbreviate things usually' 'well, maybe not that one so much.' 'ok.' (more pencil scratching)
teaching a german a new english phrase: 5 minutes
clarifying this new phrase use over a week: 10 minutes
hearing a german whip out 'booty call' in a perfect context to an unprepared native english speaker: priceless.
Monday, January 15, 2007
The *rain* in *Spain* stays *mainly* in the *plain*
I am off to Spain for a few days late next week, to work one day and then with one day being my first vacation day of the year, as well as a Saturday to run around and shop. This time, it's to Barcelona, which will be my third time there.
In the great behemoth of a company that I work for we have offices around the world. For the most part, the offices where I get to go are the ugly step-sister of offices that are located in industrial parks, on the outskirts of fine metropolises such as: Zwickau, Wuppertal, Geel, Valencia, Wednesbury, Telford, and one podunk one two hours away from Prague--do you get the idea? Offices that are located where land, buildings, and labor is cheap since the primary purpose of the site is/was manufacturing and now we have an office there too. (In your dreams of becoming an expat in Europe, I doubt the above appears, Gentle Reader.)
Rarely do I get to go to the sexy Cinderella offices like London, Paris, or Barcelona as these tend to be tiny satellite offices that are used mainly for sales and for only a small part of the client facing part of the business since real estate in the big cities is expensive.
However, someone managed to set up a meeting in Barcelona because we must talk about their systems there, in that Barcelona office. Shot, score!
In the great behemoth of a company that I work for we have offices around the world. For the most part, the offices where I get to go are the ugly step-sister of offices that are located in industrial parks, on the outskirts of fine metropolises such as: Zwickau, Wuppertal, Geel, Valencia, Wednesbury, Telford, and one podunk one two hours away from Prague--do you get the idea? Offices that are located where land, buildings, and labor is cheap since the primary purpose of the site is/was manufacturing and now we have an office there too. (In your dreams of becoming an expat in Europe, I doubt the above appears, Gentle Reader.)
Rarely do I get to go to the sexy Cinderella offices like London, Paris, or Barcelona as these tend to be tiny satellite offices that are used mainly for sales and for only a small part of the client facing part of the business since real estate in the big cities is expensive.
However, someone managed to set up a meeting in Barcelona because we must talk about their systems there, in that Barcelona office. Shot, score!
-->Four glorious days in a country where the majority of the people are not permanently frowning.
-->Four days of being able to function linguistically as a 31 year old, rather than a 7 year old.
-->Four days of seeing people actually wearing clothing with color, beyond orange, brown and black.
-->One day in an office where business casual is something other than cargo pants or blue jeans.
-->Three days of sweet, gentle white wine and a few more bottles to carry home.
This year is off to a good start!
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