Wassenberg by Bike

This is a brief introduction to my neighborhood by bicycle. I'm sorry it couldn't be longer, but I was having frustrating camera problems. In fact, I did this run multiples times. This means that after riding a minute downhill and realizing I only had three seconds of footage, I had to ride BACK up and do it again. Unfortunately, what you see is the best that I could do with my continuous malfunctions, which isn't bad, but sadly incomplete. Hopefully you can get a rough idea of the area in which I live, so enjoy!

Introducing: Wassenberg (Va-sen-beg... German's like to ignore their R's).

Current State of Things

Snow

When in Rome, party like a German!

This past Friday night was spent chillin' in Dusseldorf with Kate and Sebastian. Due to our absolute overload of picture taking on this night, we'll upgrade this baby into a one day photo diary.

We kicked off the night with glühwein, a Christmastime specialty wine here in Germany that is meant to be served hot. Although there are probably more classy ways to prepare and serve this traditional beverage, we made do with what we had, which was whatever a 26 year old college male has in his dorm room: cheap pots and plastic cups.

No matter, the wine did it's job and before long we were singing to Sebastian's guitar as he played songs by The Beatles.

Shortly after, Sebastian's BFF (best friend forever, for the uh, older readers) in Germany arrived. Meet Ivan, friend #3 from Ecuador.
After polishing off a bottle of wine and our secret stash of lime beer, we put on our heavy duty coats (the temperature has recently plummeted) and headed over to a little international party located in... the basement. Let it be known that it is legal to drink, smoke and party on university property. This is a very backwards concept compared to the strict regulations back home, but hey, when in Rome, party like a German!
No one actually informed us that this was a masquerade shindig, but we lived it up. Here is a very creepy German college student in a woman's blouse. Heck yes I was going to take a photo with him!
All in all, it was a good night. It's always nice for me to escape to the city, and Kate has been nice enough to offer me her apartment floor for whenever those times arise. (ps. Those are community pretzels. Under other non-inebriated circumstances, I would not have had them in my mouth).

The only goof in the woods

Over the course of four weeks, I have gained a very unwelcomed five pounds. In attempt to remedy this budding issue, I have been taking leisurely jogs in the backyard forest. I've come ill equipped, but The Mom has been nice enough to give me her thermal gear. Yes, I do go running in under wear.

No matter, I'm kept warm. Besides, it's the woods, it has a thousand paths of pine snaking through its trees and over its streams. I could run and see no one.

No one.

It was during my first run when that idea bubble lit up above my head. I have the woods all to myself, I could do anything!

This kind of freedom does not stop at skipping over bridges or twirling around trees, no way. With my iPod cranked way high, I choose to dance like a goof.

Kölner Dom

I live about an hour away from Köln, a large and liberal city known for housing the Kölner Dom, otherwise known as the Cologne Cathedral. We took a day trip into the city where I was able to bear witness to this awe inspiring architectural monument.

As soon as we rounded the corner, the twin spires of the Dom sucked me in. The utter complexity of the building left me overwhelmed, it was too much to take in. Focus on the height, remember how the atmosphere interfered with its clarity. The color, blackend with age. 600 years between it's birth and completion, 760 years of bearing witness to wars and suffering, growth and revolution. Have I ever been presented before something so old and so wise?

For the first time in my adult life, I stood before something not knowing how to comprehend its magnificence. The Cathedral conveyed another language altogether, speaking of history and triumph, longevity and preservation. I strained my ears to listen, begged my mind to comprehend. Take it in, take it in, take it in.


The main entrance was lined with stone statues serving as a mere embellishment to the whole. They were astounding on their own! Like stoic guardians, they watched as every man entered their domain. Large blank eyes, all the better the see me with.

The inside of the Dom was lined with extremely large and intricate stained glass windows, each one telling a different story in turn as the sun rose and later set. Despite the gloomy day, these windows let light in from all corners of the cathedral, telling their stories yet again for another full church.

I couldn't stand their long enough, I wanted my eyes to linger over every detail, to remember every pane. The air felt different just because it was air housed in history. The three wise men, were they to spring to life from their golden sarcophagi, would share the same air with me. I was on pilgrimage.

Karnival calls for a pub crawl.

November 11th at 11:11 marks the start of a three month soiree. Introducing: Karnival. Karnival is a prelude celebration to Ash Wednesday, otherwise known as the beginning of Lent. So, what Germans and many other Europeans do is take advantage of every moment before their 40 days of spiritual fasting. The real parties don't kick up until the last minute and the biggest party of all isn't until Fat Tuesday. Still, we have to begin celebrating sooner or later, which is why Germans have deemed November 11th as an honorable starting point.

A family friend threw a party for children at her home in Dusseldorf which my kids and I gladly attended. A common tradition during Karnival festivities is to dress up in costumes that are similar to those worn on Halloween, but less spooky and more jovial. In this house we had more pirates than I have toes and enough Spidermen to last a lifetime. We stuffed those kids with so much sweet that even I, a renowned sweet tooth, was disgusted. Gummi Bear cake, Sweetie pie, banana chocolate muffins, strawberry lolly pops, sugar infused juices and cream cheese pizza. Diabetes was on a roll tonight.

When 6 o' clock came around and parents returned for their kids, the house was a wreck and I was freed from my duties. The party we attended was also thrown by the family my new friend Kate au pairs for. The Mom had suggested I go out for a change and spend the night there, so I packed my bags and prepared for a slumber afterparty.

Kate called up Sebastian, new friend #2, and we hit the town with our sights set on a pub crawl. First stop, Uerige, a traditional brewery that sells alt bier, the beer common and known to Dusseldorf. We made our way through the maze of the bar and into a private room in which we imbibed our first of many drinks that night.

Immediately ready for more, we wandered the streets of Old Town (the older part of the city) looking for a particular Spaniard who works in a bar that wasn't open that night. Instead, we flipped around to spot Stutton's Irish Pub where "everyone speaks English." We ordered a round of Hefinwizen and discussed morals and principles under the ebb of inebriation. Our waitress was wearing the latest in green-bottle fashions, so I politely asked her name (Laura) and took her picture. Heineken represent!

We later migrated to The Red Lounge where I was promised extremely good looking young men to which there were none. Kate managed to accidentally flirt with our British server, but that was the extent of it. We discussed viewpoints on Stella vs. Heineken and decided to settle for a Heine. I traveled all the way to Germany to order a beer that is invasive in the Pacific, it's heresy. Later, Sebastian and Kate took a shot the Romanian way:

We wrapped up our crawl with a place called The Pretty Vacant Club. As you can see, the sign above the door reads:

"Never mind the VIP
Here is the

PRETTY VACANT CLUB
Happy New Year"

Sebastian ordered us a nameless beer with lime (delicious) and we blatently stared at the only good looking guy in Germany. Unfortunately, he wasn't nearly as good looking up close. So, we downed our glasses and ran for falafels. Luckily, we also caught the last tram and made it home in one piece.

International Day

International Day is a special day put aside for my kids' international private school. Each grade transforms their area into another country full of fun facts, activities and crafts. Lunch was comprised of ethnic dishes that correspond to the countries that were represented. All the proceeds to the meals were donated to a school in Kenya, so eating was encouraged! (I had an amazing Ethiopian stew with a sourdough pancake, plus dessert from Turkey and tropical drinks from the Caribbean).

The Boys' grade transformed the classroom into a Kenyan safari. There was wild animal face painting, a Mancala game station, massive stuffed animals and zebras in every corner. Most importantly, it was in Kenya that I made my first friend in Germany.

Leave it to The Mom to shout introductions across a crowded room. "NICOLE!!! THAT'S KATE! KATE, THAT'S NICOLE!!" Bewildered, I scanned the class for some girl named Kate, assuming I needed to take her to the bathroom. It took a few minutes for true clarity to apparate (there are no spelling suggestions for that word, so does that mean I just quoted Harry Potter?) but after that we were gold.

This is indeed a momentous occasion. A friend, my age, finally, after three weeks in Germany. We did the whole exchanging numbers tidbit, which was a first for me and my new digits (I have recently been given a German simcard). We met again later in the Caribbean where the preschoolers threw a pirate party.

It was the most beautiful day since I've arrived and without the thought of a coat, I sat outside in my sundress and sweater. The massive sandbox was transformed into a treasure hunting spot full of shovels and chocolate coins. Some parent holding the chocolate money refused to give me one as the rules stated you had to find a voucher in the sand first. Rich people, I swear.

So fine, I grabbed a plastic shovel and jumped in that sandbox full of three year olds and dug a pit any pirate would have been proud of. Did I unearth anything? No. Was this not a game for toddlers? Some guy felt sorry for me and planted a coin to my right, which I immediately dug up and had to give to my kid. The game had potential, but man, that was too much work for very little/NO payoff. So, instead, my ingenuity took me to volunteer at the tattoo station where I freely stole chocolate coins when no one was looking. Take that, regulators of wealth.

Eventually it was just Kate and I immersed in talk of Germany and world travel. When we returned our watchful eye to the tattoos (which were actually a plethora of rubber stamps) the kids had gotten multiple colors of ink ALL OVER THEM! Shoot me now. Luckily, they did not belong to me, so I shooed them away and then relocated myself to the playgrounds.

Saint Martin's Day

This is a Catholic holiday that is celebrated throughout Germany the way non-Christians would celebrate Christmas (to a lesser degree). The story goes that good old Saint Martin was traveling the city on horseback one late autumns night when he came across a beggar. It was terribly cold out, and the beggar had very little clothing. So, Saint Martin (who I'm sure was just plain old 'Martin' at this time) cut his cape in half and gave it to the old man. So, his kindness not only turned him into a saint, but THE saint of generosity.

Why he didn't give the old man the whole coat is beyond me.

The tradition gets carried on through Saint Martins Day, which is November 7th, and the entire town gathers with their children to parade through the streets. This isn't what makes the holiday interesting. The best part is that the children all carry handmade lanternen, or lanterns, of all shapes, sizes, colors and creativity while singing the accompanying lanterne song.

In the front and rear of the parade are small matching bands, followed by a 72 year old man dressed up as Saint Martin riding the most majestic horse you've ever seen. At the finishing point of the parade is an incredibly massive bonfire where everyone gathers around to watch a mock performance of the fateful Saint Martin's Night, beggar, ripped coat and all.

When the performance is over, the children are given a bag full of goodies, which reinforce the idea of generosity, and varies in treats depending on the town. There is one commonality, however, and that is the weckmann. A weckmann is a sweet German bread that is shaped like a man, complete with the signature piece that defines this type of loaf - a pipe.

At this point, the kids are so happy with their treats that the parents are forced to carry the lanterns home. I made The Boy's lantern, a roboter, or robot. We ended up referring to it as Optimus Prime. Whatever, 5 year old boys can do what they like.
Optimus Prime and me (notice that even robots have hearts?... AND BRAINS!)

To sum it up gently

These are small tidbits of information that I've been slowly picking up about typical German lifestyles. For those of you who have never lived in Germany, you may find this interesting. For those of you who are from Germany, you may find everything I have to say pretty tacky.


Germans:

- Follow rules. They cross only when the walking man is lit and they will report your license plate if you drive poorly.

- Eat only one hot meal a day: Lunch. Breakfast and dinner are comprised of bread and cheese. And for the hot meals that Germans do eat, you guessed it, is a lot of sausage and sauerkraut.

- Have this weird contraption built into their house that causes all the windows and doors to be boarded up. It's like how a store in the mall closes by rolling down a garage-like gate. So, at night, Germans close up shop on their homes. Introducing, The Rolladen:


- Ride bicycles at all ages.

- Are extremely environmentally conscious. Garbage gets separated into compartments: Plastic, paper and general trash. You must pay for how much you dispose, which discourages needless consumption and purchasing. Water is heavily taxed to encourage conservation. There are wind turbines scattered across the countryside and gas is like $14 a gallon. Don't even think about littering.

- Actually do wear those leather britches that you see on yodelers.


Germany:

- Shuts down on Sundays. The law states that no shop is allowed to be open on this day and to be open requires special and regulated government permissions. Some stores that are open: Bakeries (though only special licensed bakeries and then only during certain hours nationwide), churches and breweries (Bread, God and beer. It's all a German needs).

- Is primarily Catholic (thus the observation of doing nothing on Sundays) and they celebrate events such as All Saints day and Names Day, Ash Wednesday and Easter.

- Like, invented Christmas. And gummy bears.

- Has a different kind of beer for each town. So, while Wassenberg is knows for a beer that is dark and has a heavier taste, Koln, a neighboring city, has something lighter with less hops. Also, beer brewed in Germany are only allowed 4 general ingredients. This means no preservatives. What you drink is as fresh as you can get.