German class has ended and I am relieved. The class, itself, was really not that bad. I liked my teachers effort to keep us engaged with games and quizzes and interactive activities. I liked feeling like I was learning new words and strengthening my understanding of grammar. I even warmed up to my classmates, including the Romanian women who laughed at people. Of course, I lost my notebook that first week never to see it again. I did my homework most days on the train GOING to class and didn't crack a book to study until the night before the final exam. Oh, and did I mention that I've started watching less--not more--German tv than before? So, it would come as no surprise to you that I still don't feel like I grew to be more confident in speaking the language. My problem is my bad attitude--plain and simple.
Let me first start off by saying that I know that the best way to understand a country, its culture, and its people is to learn their language. I know that, really. That is the reason why, in spite of the feelings I have towards learning German, I have soldiered on. I can't tell you how many people have lectured me on this point upon hearing that I am feeling frustrated and flustered by the language. I got lectured last night, in fact, by another well meaning German. His American wife, he tells me, encountered the same problem. She felt like she was never going to learn the language and then slowly her word bank grew and her confidence followed. Now, he said, she is practically fluent. How long did that take, you ask? Eight years, he said. EIGHT YEARS! Well, I just don't have that much time or energy to devote.
So, it begins. I get lectured--Don't give up! You can do it! which leads me to think, "No, I really don't want to. I'd rather get an appendictomy." And then, "Why is it everyone can speak this language but me?" Well, says me, "I should give up then. I'm a lost cause." I stew on the giving up part for a few weeks until I'm lectured again and feel guilted into a new class (where I don't study and psychologically kick myself for wasting money). Then, we're back to square one.
And now, where does this leave me? What's my plan next? I haven't a clue. I'm taking a break to recover what's left of my ego. Perhaps, this spring weather will jump start my positive attitude and by some fluke I'll feel motivated to really try. Until then, we'll all just have to be content with my ability to order dinner, read the ingredients on the back of a cereal box and employ useful phrases like: "Doctor, I think I'm going to throw up now."
Monday, April 28, 2008
Thursday, April 24, 2008
A Spa Like No Other
I'm relishing my first day post German class and decided to curl up this morning with my new friend, BBC Prime. (Yes, I know, you only really want to hear how poorly I did in the class but you'll have to wait until I get some psychological distance for that one.)
Anyway, BBC Prime, for the uninitiated, is a treasure trove of stale British television shows clearly aimed at the nostalgic pensioner and cleverly marketed towards the expat desperate for english content in any form. It is trash. It is cheesy and most shows debuted and were promptly cancelled in the late 80s. Under any other circumstance, I would skip it altogether but with our outrageously expensive rip-off, I mean, "English channel cable package" it's either this or National Geographic or what like to call "When Babooms (and other predators) Attack Small African Babies Leaving Unsuspecting Viewer in A Flood of Tears Channel." Frankly, I just wasn't in the mood to watch a newly wed couple get mauled by a black bear in the Colorado Rockies...again.
Okay, where was I? Right, well, BBC Prime is crap but it serves as a chip-chip-cheerio way to start the day. First, I make myself an English Muffin and tea with cream (yes, really) and I snuggle up to Bargain Hunt for some wholesome British fun. Bargain Hunt is guarantee crowd pleaser. Two grandmas in the quilting club or two bandmates in the college tenor duo team up to scour Great Britain for bargains that they hope to sell at auction for a profit. Fascinating stuff, really. Amazing the trash that people will buy.
Then, comes the wildcard at 10am. Will it be "What Not to Wear" with Trinny and Susannah? Carleton and Stacey's rowdier predecessors whose mission is to stylize British fashion victims. (who knew they could say 'tit' on British telly without a flinch?) Or "A Life Coach Less Ordinary" about an eccentric married couple who use a mix of psychology, meditation, and positive reinforcement to cure the chronically wacked out. Think obsessive house cleaners, hair pullers, and 40 year old virgins. All good, old fashioned reality trash. Just my kind of programming.
Today. Today's show, though, took the cake. Today's show, took a turn for the worse. Today's show, took the term "reality tv" to a whole new level. Today, I was introduced to the show called "A Spa for Embarrassing Illnesses." Yes, folks, that's really the name. This fascinating drama follows 8 seemily healthy Brits, all of whom suffer from "embarrassing illnesses," as they spend two weeks detoxing at a spanish spa said to be able to cure just about anything, no matter how chronic or debilitating. There's the 25 year women whose been diagnosed with hyderhydrosis--or excessive sweating, the 26 year old who has Irritable Bowel Syndrome and who I quote, "Can't remember the last time she had a good poo," the 41 year compulsive overeater, and the 32 year man who has such bad ezcema that he wakes up in bloody sheets. Grossed out, yet? No, okay. To cure them of their varied and sundry illnesses, they undergo everything from yoga to acupunture to colonics to counseling to a seven day fast. Throughout their journey, the voyaristic viewer is exposed to every procedure, personal discovery, and bodily omission (prodding rubber gloves and manhandling of fecal material seems to provide the shock factor the show is looking for).
It is gross out tv in it's most primal form so of course, I just HAD to watch. I was fascinated, if not also a bit dismayed by the content and by my unflinching inability to step back and turn away from the programming. I laughed. I cried. I wanted to see it again and again. It was better than "Cats." Can't wait to find out tomorrow who is sent to the infirmary first and whose diet needs alternating due to excessive dehydration.
Can't say I'd want to sign for a spa quite like that but admitting to the world that I watched it is embarrassing enough. Hmmm. Maybe I'm the one with the chronic illness...
Anyway, BBC Prime, for the uninitiated, is a treasure trove of stale British television shows clearly aimed at the nostalgic pensioner and cleverly marketed towards the expat desperate for english content in any form. It is trash. It is cheesy and most shows debuted and were promptly cancelled in the late 80s. Under any other circumstance, I would skip it altogether but with our outrageously expensive rip-off, I mean, "English channel cable package" it's either this or National Geographic or what like to call "When Babooms (and other predators) Attack Small African Babies Leaving Unsuspecting Viewer in A Flood of Tears Channel." Frankly, I just wasn't in the mood to watch a newly wed couple get mauled by a black bear in the Colorado Rockies...again.
Okay, where was I? Right, well, BBC Prime is crap but it serves as a chip-chip-cheerio way to start the day. First, I make myself an English Muffin and tea with cream (yes, really) and I snuggle up to Bargain Hunt for some wholesome British fun. Bargain Hunt is guarantee crowd pleaser. Two grandmas in the quilting club or two bandmates in the college tenor duo team up to scour Great Britain for bargains that they hope to sell at auction for a profit. Fascinating stuff, really. Amazing the trash that people will buy.
Then, comes the wildcard at 10am. Will it be "What Not to Wear" with Trinny and Susannah? Carleton and Stacey's rowdier predecessors whose mission is to stylize British fashion victims. (who knew they could say 'tit' on British telly without a flinch?) Or "A Life Coach Less Ordinary" about an eccentric married couple who use a mix of psychology, meditation, and positive reinforcement to cure the chronically wacked out. Think obsessive house cleaners, hair pullers, and 40 year old virgins. All good, old fashioned reality trash. Just my kind of programming.
Today. Today's show, though, took the cake. Today's show, took a turn for the worse. Today's show, took the term "reality tv" to a whole new level. Today, I was introduced to the show called "A Spa for Embarrassing Illnesses." Yes, folks, that's really the name. This fascinating drama follows 8 seemily healthy Brits, all of whom suffer from "embarrassing illnesses," as they spend two weeks detoxing at a spanish spa said to be able to cure just about anything, no matter how chronic or debilitating. There's the 25 year women whose been diagnosed with hyderhydrosis--or excessive sweating, the 26 year old who has Irritable Bowel Syndrome and who I quote, "Can't remember the last time she had a good poo," the 41 year compulsive overeater, and the 32 year man who has such bad ezcema that he wakes up in bloody sheets. Grossed out, yet? No, okay. To cure them of their varied and sundry illnesses, they undergo everything from yoga to acupunture to colonics to counseling to a seven day fast. Throughout their journey, the voyaristic viewer is exposed to every procedure, personal discovery, and bodily omission (prodding rubber gloves and manhandling of fecal material seems to provide the shock factor the show is looking for).
It is gross out tv in it's most primal form so of course, I just HAD to watch. I was fascinated, if not also a bit dismayed by the content and by my unflinching inability to step back and turn away from the programming. I laughed. I cried. I wanted to see it again and again. It was better than "Cats." Can't wait to find out tomorrow who is sent to the infirmary first and whose diet needs alternating due to excessive dehydration.
Can't say I'd want to sign for a spa quite like that but admitting to the world that I watched it is embarrassing enough. Hmmm. Maybe I'm the one with the chronic illness...
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
A2.2
That is the level of German I tested into. It basically means that I'm in the class with the most learned of the lowest proficiency speakers. Nothing too surprising there.
It's also not surprising that the class is every bit as painful as I expected it to be. It reinforces the fact that I might very well never learn this language. I'm either too old or too dumb or too lazy or a combination of the three. I'm certain that I couldn't determine a dativ sentence from an akkusativ one to save my skin. What is ironic is that in spite of all this, I find myself getting really frustrated with the other students whose German diction is imperfect or who forget time and time again to put the verb at the end of sentences.
--Ahh, it's "ich," not "ish." It's "ich habe das vergessen" not "ich habe vergessen das."--
Yes, that's me, the pot, yelling at the kettle: "Ah, du bist schwarz!"
The only thing that annoys me more than "ish" lady is the woman in class whose diction AND grammer AND deklinations are always perfect. She giggles at people when they mispronouce words, constructs really complicated sentences fabricated with the help of her handy pocket translator, and worst of all, has the nerve to try to beat the teacher to correcting wayward students. I seeth in both red hot rage and firey jealousy. Because it's me who wants to be the lofty one who's too cool for school, who wants to think they were misdirected to a more remedial class than they should have been placed.
But I'm not. This is definately the class in which I belong. So I sit and listen and try to learn something. With a joyful attitude! Smile. I tell myself that I can do anything for a month. In fact, I might just find that my German improves once this torture, I mean, class is over.
Now, if only I hadn't left my notebook in the ladies bathroom before leaving class this afternoon .....
It's also not surprising that the class is every bit as painful as I expected it to be. It reinforces the fact that I might very well never learn this language. I'm either too old or too dumb or too lazy or a combination of the three. I'm certain that I couldn't determine a dativ sentence from an akkusativ one to save my skin. What is ironic is that in spite of all this, I find myself getting really frustrated with the other students whose German diction is imperfect or who forget time and time again to put the verb at the end of sentences.
--Ahh, it's "ich," not "ish." It's "ich habe das vergessen" not "ich habe vergessen das."--
Yes, that's me, the pot, yelling at the kettle: "Ah, du bist schwarz!"
The only thing that annoys me more than "ish" lady is the woman in class whose diction AND grammer AND deklinations are always perfect. She giggles at people when they mispronouce words, constructs really complicated sentences fabricated with the help of her handy pocket translator, and worst of all, has the nerve to try to beat the teacher to correcting wayward students. I seeth in both red hot rage and firey jealousy. Because it's me who wants to be the lofty one who's too cool for school, who wants to think they were misdirected to a more remedial class than they should have been placed.
But I'm not. This is definately the class in which I belong. So I sit and listen and try to learn something. With a joyful attitude! Smile. I tell myself that I can do anything for a month. In fact, I might just find that my German improves once this torture, I mean, class is over.
Now, if only I hadn't left my notebook in the ladies bathroom before leaving class this afternoon .....
Monday, March 31, 2008
Fist of Fury
Ugh. German class begins again tomorrow. Different school, different set-up. Same sad, sad story.
I just got back from taking my 1 hour "placement test" for the course I've signed up for tomorrow. It was one hour where I was handed what John calls "The Wu-Tang Clan Fist of Fury." There were verb tenses, prepositional phrases, and loooong strings of sentences to which I never remember being exposed. On the second--yes second question--I started trying to remember tricks from college about how often "C" is the right answer in multiple choice questions. Oh, and it was timed! Fifteen minutes for 77 questions and 20 minutes to answer what my vacation was like in German. My written response looked something like this: "Last May (chosen b/c I couldn't remember how to spell October), I drove to Dresden with my Friend. We drove my car. When we got to the hotel, we went to see our room. In Dresden, we saw many churches (or did I say "cherries"? I'm not sure). They were pretty. Dresden was very nice. I liked it." Brillant. A linguist in the making.
Now, I will admit to be a perpetually lazy student. Not just in German but basically in all areas of academia. I enjoy class (well, occassionally) because I feel like I'm making an effort to learn by just showing up. But when it comes to studying or exerting some self-propelled effort I am sorely lacking. I never studied for the GRE b/c I didn't want to sacrifice my "free time." That's why I never went to get a Masters. And I basically switched majors my Junior year of college because studying every night for, you name it--Chemistry, Biology, Statistics--was not idea of what university was all about. I mean, I am a well rounded person, I can not be caged. Oh, and I also have a test phobia so I always assume that no matter how well I know a subject I will fail it. A good way to approach tests. Don't you think?
When the teacher started grading the test, I looked away. It panics me to see my personage evaluated on paper. Really, sir, I'm not as dumb as I seem. Just tell me I failed and send me to remedial German. I can take it.
So, tomorrow classes begin and I find out whether I'm in a class with the people who've never been exposed to German or with the ones with learning disabilities, like me. Should be fun. Five hours a day of non-stop Deutsch for five days a week for a month. I'm really looking forward to it. Wish me luck!
I just got back from taking my 1 hour "placement test" for the course I've signed up for tomorrow. It was one hour where I was handed what John calls "The Wu-Tang Clan Fist of Fury." There were verb tenses, prepositional phrases, and loooong strings of sentences to which I never remember being exposed. On the second--yes second question--I started trying to remember tricks from college about how often "C" is the right answer in multiple choice questions. Oh, and it was timed! Fifteen minutes for 77 questions and 20 minutes to answer what my vacation was like in German. My written response looked something like this: "Last May (chosen b/c I couldn't remember how to spell October), I drove to Dresden with my Friend. We drove my car. When we got to the hotel, we went to see our room. In Dresden, we saw many churches (or did I say "cherries"? I'm not sure). They were pretty. Dresden was very nice. I liked it." Brillant. A linguist in the making.
Now, I will admit to be a perpetually lazy student. Not just in German but basically in all areas of academia. I enjoy class (well, occassionally) because I feel like I'm making an effort to learn by just showing up. But when it comes to studying or exerting some self-propelled effort I am sorely lacking. I never studied for the GRE b/c I didn't want to sacrifice my "free time." That's why I never went to get a Masters. And I basically switched majors my Junior year of college because studying every night for, you name it--Chemistry, Biology, Statistics--was not idea of what university was all about. I mean, I am a well rounded person, I can not be caged. Oh, and I also have a test phobia so I always assume that no matter how well I know a subject I will fail it. A good way to approach tests. Don't you think?
When the teacher started grading the test, I looked away. It panics me to see my personage evaluated on paper. Really, sir, I'm not as dumb as I seem. Just tell me I failed and send me to remedial German. I can take it.
So, tomorrow classes begin and I find out whether I'm in a class with the people who've never been exposed to German or with the ones with learning disabilities, like me. Should be fun. Five hours a day of non-stop Deutsch for five days a week for a month. I'm really looking forward to it. Wish me luck!
Friday, March 21, 2008
Wishing You Were Here
I had the strangest dream last week. I dreamt I was driving to Stonecrest Mall on the way to J's mom's house when I had to make a critical decision: Taco Bell or Dairy Queen. I couldn't decide what was more compelling a cheap, flimsy, beef soft taco or a chili dog and Butterfinger Blizzard. What is weird is that I can't tell you the last time I had either one of these items, let alone the last time I stepped foot into Taco Hell. Ever since last week, however, I would give anything to be back in the states long enough to go.
It is torture to have a craving for something and to know that there is no way on earth to satisfy that craving. It's like the more you want it, the more you think about it, the more you want it. It's even worse when you get real-time American television that advertises said food craving on an hourly commercial roll. I tried to quench the Tex-Mex grumblings by sneaking into a VERY shady restaurant in my neighborhood (think: sandy beach-like floors, cheap teaky tables, somberos, and signs advertizing Jagermeister Fridays) to order an "enchilada." Other than the fact that I received beef wrapped inside of a soft taco, nothing has ever tasted further away from an enchilada than this. Something inside me knew this but I had to give it a try. Sigh.
So, what do you do to exorcize the food demons? Why, you blog about them in a list dump. Here are the foods I would die for right now.
1. Cupcake, any cupcake, from Whole Foods.
2. Pumpkin chocolate chip cookie from Whole Foods.
3. A beef soft taco and enchilada with refried beans and rice...oh, and queso dip with jalapeno peppers
4. Butterfinger Blizzard
5. French fries from Steak and Shake
6. Chili Dog with Orange Julius Milk Shake from the Varsity
7. Everything bagel with cream cheese from a local bakery
Mmmm. My mouth is watering just thinking about it....wishing you were here.
It is torture to have a craving for something and to know that there is no way on earth to satisfy that craving. It's like the more you want it, the more you think about it, the more you want it. It's even worse when you get real-time American television that advertises said food craving on an hourly commercial roll. I tried to quench the Tex-Mex grumblings by sneaking into a VERY shady restaurant in my neighborhood (think: sandy beach-like floors, cheap teaky tables, somberos, and signs advertizing Jagermeister Fridays) to order an "enchilada." Other than the fact that I received beef wrapped inside of a soft taco, nothing has ever tasted further away from an enchilada than this. Something inside me knew this but I had to give it a try. Sigh.
So, what do you do to exorcize the food demons? Why, you blog about them in a list dump. Here are the foods I would die for right now.
1. Cupcake, any cupcake, from Whole Foods.
2. Pumpkin chocolate chip cookie from Whole Foods.
3. A beef soft taco and enchilada with refried beans and rice...oh, and queso dip with jalapeno peppers
4. Butterfinger Blizzard
5. French fries from Steak and Shake
6. Chili Dog with Orange Julius Milk Shake from the Varsity
7. Everything bagel with cream cheese from a local bakery
Mmmm. My mouth is watering just thinking about it....wishing you were here.
Friday, March 14, 2008
Fun with Adverts
I came across the link below to this great Dutch clothing site called HEMA on Snooker's blog.
It's just a bit of fun to help you procrastinate on finishing that memo you've been putting off at work for the last week. I mean, the last thing you feel like doing at work is working, right?
Just make sure you turn up your volume and close your office door. It gets progressively louder as the video continues. Plus you don't want any of your nosey office mates to think you're doing anything more than a bit of product research--which is what you are doing--assuming you work in IT in the graphics department and have been asked to create a site that attracts more customers to your home page, one where customers can't actually buy anything. Riiiight. Well, you probably don't need an excuse anyway, do you? Besides, you wouldn't be on this blog now unless you were really desperate for some internet drivel to distract you from working.
Just click and wait for the fun to ensue. http://producten.hema.nl/
It's just a bit of fun to help you procrastinate on finishing that memo you've been putting off at work for the last week. I mean, the last thing you feel like doing at work is working, right?
Just make sure you turn up your volume and close your office door. It gets progressively louder as the video continues. Plus you don't want any of your nosey office mates to think you're doing anything more than a bit of product research--which is what you are doing--assuming you work in IT in the graphics department and have been asked to create a site that attracts more customers to your home page, one where customers can't actually buy anything. Riiiight. Well, you probably don't need an excuse anyway, do you? Besides, you wouldn't be on this blog now unless you were really desperate for some internet drivel to distract you from working.
Just click and wait for the fun to ensue. http://producten.hema.nl/
Thursday, March 13, 2008
A Matter of Taste
This is what I've been eating for breakfast this week. It is bircher mueslix--a yogurty, oatmeal cereal that is mixed with fruit, usually apples and pears.
I discovered my taste for mueslix just last week when a friend introduced me to it at the gym. I thought I knew what mueslix was--just another type of granola cereal--but this is quite different. Substantial in a healthy way and it guarantees that you won't need to eat another bite until after lunchtime.
It's quite easy to make. Some raw oats soaked overnight in juice, spices, and yogurt that is then mixed with natural or flavored yogurt the next morning to loosen it up. Traditionalists put grated apple, orange, or pear in as well, but I prefer berries. I feel very German eating it. Like somehow, I've become more native. More in touch with my Swiss-German compatriotes.
I've found a lot of comfort finding foods here that I like just as much if not better than I did in the States. I've always appreciated good pork but you just can't beat the variety and flavors of the good 'ol pig you can get here. You could eat a different type of bread, pastry, or cake here every day for a year and still not taste all of the amazing variations of homemade love that German bakers proudly prepare. And that's not to mention the beer, tea, and diversity of root veg that you can buy by the truck load in this country.
There is one taste, however, that I have not been able to appreciate and that is the parsnip. I don't think I'd ever had a parsnip before moving to here but as mentioned above, if you don't embrace the root vegetable you will be going hungry for fresh veggies during the winters, my friend. I had it a few weeks back so I knew that I didn't like parsnips. But I keep forgetting what the dag-on word means in the German so I keep on ordering the horrid flavored soup from our local take-out restaurant. So, sadly, I had it again tonight for dinner and as always, I had to convince myself throughout the "meal" that "No, I was not going to throw up this soup. (Hiccup) That I secretely liked parsnips and that they were good for me. That the smell, that awful, dirty sock smell (hiccup), was just the nutrients derived from the healthy root of the Gods. Yumm." When I finally swallowed my last mealy-parsnipity mouthful, I breathed a sigh of relief. Mind over matter and all of that.
So I'm not writing off all "exotic" root vegetables in Germany and I will definitely continue to venture into the unknown spheres of the German culinary universe. But, believe you me, the parsnip is one food that will not knowingly find it's way into this expat any time soon. I just don't have enough pep in me. (Hiccup)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
