The Good, The Bad, The Ugly: Hiking

So, about a week ago, I was in Allgäu with the 'rents and my puppy.

Unsure of what to do on a Friday night, it was decided that we would all do an evening hike of a smaller mountain! Yay!

Why such a small mountain, you ask?

Well, to the chagrin of M., I always show up in Allgäu in non-hiking-appropriate footwear. You know, like the leather shoes that everyone runs around in over on my side of the country. To M.'s triple-chagrin, both of my travelling companions were in even less hiking-suitable footwear than me. (Read: Sandals and newer leather walking shoes.)

Therefore, we chose to hike a smaller mountain of around 200 metres or so.

And thus, I present to you an Allgäu hiking edition of "The Good, The Bad, The Ugly"!

GOOD:

• My dog cannot only hike mountains, he's f-ing amazing at it. Perhaps he didn't really tire because he's so low to the ground and thus doesn't notice he's going up a steep slope. More likely, he's just a tank and can handle jagged rocks like one of those mountain-running champions. My lovely trooper, I've never seen anything like that before in my life... I wish I had pictures of a Dackel manouvering jagged rocks triple the size of him like a champ.
• I used to hike a lot when I was 18. You know, backpacking, camping and that sort of thing. A nice combination of my asthma getting worse and a nasty break-up led to the fact I haven't done ANY hiking since then. Despite the fact I had to take my inhaler every five feet not because I was out of breath in the "I can't do this" way, but because my asthma is about a quadrillion times worse than it was a decade ago, I am very impressed at the fact doing nothing can still allow my legs to go, go go!

BAD:

• Lots of nice dairy products come from Allgäu. This unfortunately means there are lots of cows in the mountains. I mean, I get this is an Allgäu thing, but I am used to hiking in the Rockies in silence, save a few animal growls in the distance, bear bells tinkling from passers-by, or people singing in the absence of bear bells. The whole "klang-klang" was not necessarily terrible, just a little off-putting.
• Of course, going up a steep trail in leather shoes is fine. I've worn those puppies in! BUT: Going up a steep trail of jagged rocks covered in mud in leather shoes without grips on the bottom is not really fine. So, what do I do? Pretend I'm a yeti and take off my shoes. Yeah, that's right. Barefoot up the mountain!

UGLY:

• As awesome as it was going barefoot up the mountain, going barefoot down jagged rocks while having a Max-who-just-couldn't-get-enough on the other end of the leash pulling me down was not included in my definition of a fun evening hike. Pray, what is better? Sliding down a mountain because of non-grippy shoes, or slicing your feet up? No worries, I did both!

Guess who's bringing their decade-old hiking boots on their next trip to Allgäu??

Half a Decade

September 5th this year marks five years since I first moved across the pond. My Germany today wasn't the same as it was five years ago, not by a long shot. When I make the comparison to what I experienced eight years ago when I first came here on vacation, I feel like I can't even make a comparison because things are so different. The only things that are similar are pretzels with butter and that ridiculous tetra-packed shelf-milk that sits on my shelf until I'm ready to put it in the fridge.

It could also just be that I become more aware of certain things the longer I get here.

Still, there are some significant things that I've noticed in the last five. Let's play show and tell!

• You can get Froot Loops here now. I remember my first couple months here, when my ex brought me Froot Loops from the Commissary in Stuttgart, and I just about wet myself with happiness every time I took a bite from that lovely box. (Oh wait. I mean the Froot Loops box. Hey-oh!) That being said, I probably still would have the same reaction today, since I have little to no inclination to shell out money for something that costs around 10,00€/kg.
• Come to think about it, certain foods are just all-round easier to get here. It's not like I couldn't get them before, but I no longer have to hunt and comb stores for: maple syrup, peanut butter, SHREDDIES and baking soda.
• I see people running around the streets every so often in sweat pants. I see little girls running to school in sweats and runners; little girls running around in thick tights and dresses seem to be more the exception than ever.
• That being said, I see a growing Americanization everywhere. Whereas people used to wear proper trousers, everyone including their grandparents are wearing jeans, running shoes and t-shirts. My mom is coming to Germany to visit, and upon advising her packing list, she was in disbelief that things had changed so significantly in eight years. And the consumerism. Whatever happened to the schwäbisch Sparen, Sparen, Sparen! ?? Even they hit Königsstraße with a gusto!
• Trigger warning for the menz: I remember running around for hours upon hours when I first moved here looking for tampons with applicators. Sorry, but I've never been okay with the ob/finger deal. Still missing are plastic applicators, but I'll get over it. Maybe in the next five, eh?
• Sundays are different now. Bakeries are now open on Sundays in many places. Just not in Möhringen in Stuttgart. Imagine my surprise when walking Maxie one Sunday morning whilst visiting friends, dying of hunger, with no open bakery in sight. We NRW-ians are spoiled.
• You still get your average Kraut running around about the Ruhezeit, but I've noticed this happens less and less often. Being silent between the hours of 13:00 and 15:00 is also becoming less important. Hell, some people even do their laundry on Sundays these days! The horror!
• Just when I got used to the faintly comforting smell of Persil, I noticed that they now have regular Waschmittel with a scent. I mean, sure, there was always fabric softener, but the smell never really stuck to the clothes, so I never worried about it. I remember when I lived down south, my American neighbour would always smell me when I came over because -- having PX privileges and all -- I smelled strongly of lavender and vanilla fabric softener. No, it wasn't as creepy as it sounds. I admit I only tried the Lenor soap because it was on sale and cheaper than my regular Persil, but every time I take something out of the closet and put it on, the smell of orange blossoms shocks and awes me every single time. Especially because it lasts through wearing, too. Boah. I'm not really sure how I feel about it. Ambivalent. That's how I feel about it. I like it, but it just feels so wrong. Yes, I know you have no idea what I'm talking about.

But those are just things. For me, both so many things have changed while nothing has changed at all. I'm no longer a 21-year-old exploring a new country and culture. I'm in my mid-twenties, and while that isn't old, I feel like Germany has aged me dramatically into a nagging, ordentlich Kraut who follows rules without fail.

"Hey, you! Do not cross the street on red! What will the children think?! Yes, I realize there aren't any children around, but there could be! Don't break the rules! Jaywalking is VERBOTEN!!!"

I still can't stand 97% of Krauts I meet, and I'm still not sure if I dislike it here, am just ambivalent, or am only here because it's cool to tell people that you're living in Europe, even though it's one of the least special characteristics ever.

Oh yeah, and I can't really speak English anymore. I've long given up on genders for German nouns, and thus speak some sort of Denglish with most people. You know, English sentence structure, German nouns, and a mix of German and English verbs, adjectives and adverbs.

"So, I went spazieren with Max, and dann I saw this Stück Brot on the grass, and had to pull Max weg since he tried to eat it. Er war soooo sauer auf mich, but seriously, es gibt people who are putting razorblades or Gift inside things to make dogs tot."

The worst thing about the whole Denglish thing is that 95% of people I converse with on a (semi-)regular basis are German-English bilingual, so there is no reason for me to give up this nonsense.

So, yeah. There's me five years later. Degenerating and ambivalent.

Funsies, oder?

Errrm... Random

I've always been a big fan of fall. As nice as the heat and sun of summer can be, the beginning of fall somehow feels more productive, retaining enough of the nice weather that you can both get to wear new fall clothes, yet can still pull out a summer tank-top for afternoon/evening drinks with friends.

In theory.

I mean, I neither have new fall clothes (and probably haven't bought any since my second year of college), and I don't have the disposable income at hand for after-work cocktails, but it's the idea I'm in love with. You know, the fact I could do it if I really wanted to.

Or something.

Anyhoo, as much as I like summer, the period between the end of August and Christmas is the best time of the year.

Fall, back to school/uni (although, unless I am able to continue teaching at uni for awhile, it looks like my days are numbered for that one), Canadian Thanksgiving, weather finally gets cold and dreary, as soon as weather gets cold and dreary comes the Christmas season.

Did I mention the changing of the leaves is also one of my favourite features of this time of year? This is compounded by the cool fact this happens over months in my neck of the woods and not in a week like back home?

Anyway, the air is wonderfully crisp, and it's now dark again when I take Max out at six in the morning to do his business. No rollos + fall = more sleeping time in the dark.

(And who said historians can't do math?)

Maybe the rapid decline in temperature despite somehow being a little warm reminds me enough of home that the weather has put a sock in my homesickness this morning.

Did I mention I'm homesick again?

FFS, it's been almost five years since I left the first time. People always say that, as more time passes, trips back home will become less and less frequent, and homesickness will start to fade. For me, though, this year marks the first time I've actually gone home twice, and it's only the end of August. (Though I won't be going back again this year. My wallet can say that much.)

To be honest, I'm starting to feel a little bit desperate about the whole situation.

Okay, deep breath. Focus on how wonderful fall is. Focus on how wonderful fall is.

Ahhhh, okay, I'm better now.

(And yes, in looking quickly over this post I realize how random it is. Props to you if you can follow my thoughts. If not, well, let's just say I don't blame you. I'll try to refrain from blogging at 6:30 in the morning from now on, emphasis on the word try.)

Back Home

I'd like to say that the past week was sort of my bridge week between vacation and the real world. I spent last week in the wonderland that is Allgäu, giving myself time to get back into academic-mode without the pressure of laundry, flat-cleaning and other things that come with living in your own flat.

So, while I managed to churn out an entirely adequate fifteen pages of text, I also managed to do some things that make me sublimely happy:

- Catching up on an entire season of Army Wives. (Yeah, I got addicted when I was an army wife. Sue me.)
- Playing MarioKart on the Wii most evenings and being amazed that there are still enough people playing on the internet with each other.
- Enjoying staring out the window at Grünten.
- Spending time with one of the most important people in my life.
- Eating copious amounts of good food I would never buy for myself such as Smarties yogurt, peppers stuffed with cream cheese, popcorn and watermelon (Like it was a bowl of ice cream. Please see below.)

 

Tomorrow, it's back to the grind of getting up at 5:30 rather than a comfortable 8:00. What does my week consist of? Work, rushing to get papers done and handed in, and trying to arrange my flat in a presentable manner for when my mom and step-dad come to visit next week. (!!)

 

So... Yay for that. I guess.

(I just want more watermelon.)

It tooks me 26 years to realize the benefits of a real vacation.

When it comes to my education (which could also be called: "fear of the real world" or "never-ending pursuit of intellectual fulfillment"), I work relatively hard. I take classes at a distance university on the side for funsies, and I exclusively read secondary literature for projects on the train. In the last years, I've gone on plenty of "vacations", which were normally marked by me only working three or four hours per day on university work in a foreign country rather than most of the day at home.

I don't do it because I have to. Almost everyone I know gets by on far less.

I do it because I love it.

Still, that being said, I'd been at my breaking point for awhile. As much as I looked forward to my trip to Montreal, it scared the hell out of me since I'd promised myself twelve days without work. Why, you ask?

Because the last time I took a break like that was after my BA, and I was so bored after a week that I enrolled in distance courses just to give my brain something to do other than go to work and sit in front of the TV for a couple hours before going to bed. That drove me mad.

I admit, there were times in the last weeks when I just wanted to cruise JSTOR for some literature, and if I'm being honest, I did do a teeny, tiny bit of primary source research for an article I'm writing.

Yeah, I cheated. I did about an hour of work in twelve days, which officially marks the laziest I've been in years.

It's been a slow go getting back into it. Yesterday, I only managed some reading. Today, though, I'm back into writing, and am already a good thousand words into my day. I feel better again, a bit like I did this time last year before things really started piling up. The joy is back in it, and I'm grateful.

I recognize it took me going away and leaving my books behind, but I'm so glad I actually took a "real" vacation for once.

Yay for vacations! When's the next one?

The Good, The Bad, The Ugly: Montreal

Hello, friends!

So, the last two weeks I was in Montreal on vacation! Yay! The trip was booked rather spontaneously (like most of my trips to Canada seem to be). Rather than giving a boring play-by-play on the happenings across the pond, I thought I'd provide my rundown in the style of "The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly". Now, I realize this is a really old movie, but since I first learned about the whole thing from short daily news clips The Bear used to play when I was a kid, I'll do it that way. Maybe that's similar to the movie. I wouldn't know. I'm not really a fan of older movies, tbh.

So! Montreal!

GOOD:
- Come on. It's Canada!
- The people I saw. LOVE LOVE LOVE!
- Double-doubles flowing in an almost unlimited fashion.
- My first vacation away from homework or other work in years.

BAD:
- Understanding not a heck of a lot more than I manage in Finland. I mean, except when I watched the TV on loud with no other distractions. Then I was fine.
- Leaving to come back to Germany.
- The humidity and being just as wet when you're already out of the shower as you were in it.

UGLY:
- Montreal. Seriously. I have no freeking idea how these people find this place "beautiful". When I was living in Calgary, all I ever heard was about how "European" Montreal is, yet still retaining a good mix of Canadian and North American aspects. I'm sorry, but the only thing "European" about Montreal is the two or three buildings sticking out in the skyline that could be older than my grandfather. A few old buildings does not a European city make. Uglier? Hearing people in the airport who were on business in Montreal saying that the city's "European-ness" is what makes them love coming back a couple times a year. Oh well, they were from Atlanta. Guess that comment should be taken with a grain of salt, all things considered...

Greetings and Salutations to the Interwebbies

Well, hey there! Long time no see!

Where have I been, do you ask?

In a statistics class that ran thirteen days straight without a break!

Basically, I now feel like I got hit by a sack of hammers. Actually, I've been feeling that way for twelve days now. You know, it's funny -- it feels so strange not to be going to school tomorrow morning. It seems like I've been living this routine for so long, I don't even know what my life before looked like anymore.

I always used to laugh at those people on Survivor (yes, I know you're laughing at me right now) who would go on about how, at the beginning, it's exciting to get to know everyone and everything, but at the end, you are sick of everyone's stories and just want to go home. I mean, sure, we had the added luxury of actually getting to go to some sort of bed at night/didn't have to sleep at a campfire in a torrential rainstorm whilst laying on rocks, but yeah. There's only so much you wanna hear about people's dissertations, empirical research, hopes and dreams, etc.

Sure, there's a couple people I actually enjoyed spending time with through the whole thing, but yeah.

Ah, well.

I'm not gonna bother recapitulating my weeks for you. A lot happened, and there were a lot of times I wanted to write something (be it happy, sad or funny), but, frankly, after a 9-5 day of stats and computer-staring, the last thing I felt like doing was coming home, opening up my laptop, and writing a virtual message to you fine people out in the interwebbies.

No offence.

But I'm alive, a little worse for the wear (I suppose I will heal eventually), and have sore arms after trying to carry 20kg of groceries home in a flimsy plastic bag/not in a plastic bag because cornflakes boxes are awkwardly shaped.

So yeah. I'm off to shower before watching Mr. Phelps swim one of the last swims of his career.