Sometimes I get the feeling that people are asking themselves, "How does Molly do it? She either has a ton of money or is robbing a bank." Actually, neither of those statements are true. I am a poor student just like everyone else. But I do things a little bit differently than other students, and that has allowed me to keep my finances in check.
Number one, I have been looking at this graduate program since my first year of undergrad. I had a plan, and although I wasn't sure I would get an assistantship, I applied for it anyway, and was, of course, happy to receive it. Without it, I wouldn't be able to afford this year abroad at all.
So what else do I do to save money while abroad? Take a look....
I don't pay full price for big ticket items. For example, my zipper broke on my other coat and I needed a new coat, and fast. I wanted a quality winter jacket that would last for years, but at a discount price. I went into the Altstadt in Salzburg and went through a few of my favorite shops, trying on different coats. I really liked one that I tried on at Esprit. It fit, was a cute color, and best of all: it was affordable. It was originally being sold for over 100 Euros but I got it for over 50 percent off. How's that for a deal?
I shop around for things like haircuts, for example. I want my hair cut and highlighted, but I haven't been able to afford it here. After some research, I found a place that will let me get my hair done by a trainee. It will perhaps take an extra hour or 2, but it saves me so much money! I am going to get my hair cut and highlighted at over 50 percent off.
And a few general things...
I don't go out all of the time. I like to go out as much as the next girl, but it adds up, especially when you are drinking and somehow forget that you dropped an extra 50 Euros. When I go out, I take out a certain amount of money and stick to it. Then, the next night, when someone else asks me to go out, I politely decline. I cannot afford to go out constantly.
I cook at home. Ok, not really cook. I make pasta and salads, cut up fruit, and prepare vegetables. It saves me so much money. At the beginning of the year I was eating out a lot, but as soon as I realized it was really hurting my pocketbook, I reduced it significantly.
I know where to go. 75 cents for a postcard? No way. I go to the place around the corner that sells them for 40 cents. 3.50 for that bagel sandwich? Across the street there is a place that sells the best croissant sandwiches for 2.50.
I don't buy a lot of clothes. I am like every other woman. (I am stereotyping women: Gloria Steinem forgive me) I do love to shop. But I realize that clothes are expensive. I tend to head to the sales rack at places, and really think about it before actually buying clothing.
I work. I organized a babysitting gig here in Salzburg before even arriving here. I only babysit once a week, so it's not affecting school, and it's enough money to allow me to either: buy an item of clothing I want, go out, or take a short trip every week.
Still, you may be saying to yourself...
....But Molly. You travel all of the time. What about Abu Dhabi? What about Munich? the Netherlands? And everywhere else you go? First of all, I am an expert at planning trips on a budget. I research well in advance for the best price. I also have student discount cards that I paid for that allow me to get 50 percent off on trains in Austria and Germany. I also have befriended people all over Europe that allow me to stay with them. So think about it. I get cheap transportation and a free place to stay (and eat). What am I really paying for? I don't buy souveniers anymore, so other than paying for admission to sites, postcards and few lunches, there isn't much I have to spend my money on.
In addition, I:
also keep track of everything that I spend my money on, down to the 50 cents that I spent the other day to buy hot chocolate out of a vending machine. Anal? Maybe. But as a student I can't afford to spend a lot of money, and I need to keep track of where it is going.
I'm not perfect. I have an iced cafe latte addiction that definitely cuts in to my bottom line. But thankfully, I am able to counteract that by not buying other things that I want.
Time to sign out. I'm about to go on a tour of the Haus der Natur with my church (for free, might I add)
Bye for Now, Molly
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Monday, January 24, 2011
Weekend at Verena's
There are days abroad when everything I see is amazing. I love the small shops, the cobblestone streets, hearing German wherever I go, and everything else that is going on around me. And then there are, of course, those days where everything annoys me. I don't really let it get me down. It's all part of living in a foreign country.
As you can tell from my last post, I am beginning to feel more at home. What has really helped me is spending time with a Catholic church group for University students. I have met lots of nice people, including Verena. She is also 23 and we seem to have a lot in common. This past weekend she took the train back home to visit her parents, and she asked me to join her. After about an hour on the train we arrived in her small village, where her father picked us up to take her to her house. When we got home her mother and her little sister were there to greet us. We had a nice dinner and then went to bed relatively early, since the busy week had tired us out. On Saturday she took me to the downtown area, on the water with a beautiful view of the mountains. So idyllic. I spent a long time just staring out into the distance. It looked so much like I painting I was tempted to pinch myself to see if it was real. It's that kind of moment that makes study abroad so worthwhile. Just discovering the beauty of other parts of the world.
She and I walked along the water front in the bitter cold, and then warmed up over hot chocolate in a cafe with a view of the waterfront and the lovely, snow-capped mountains. It was something out of an old Audrey Hepburn film. Just too good to be true :)
The rest of the weekend involved lots of studying (or in my case, procrastinating), as we have exams this week. Actually, as I write this, I should be studying. How typical.
With love from Salzburg,
Molly
Monday, January 17, 2011
Austria is not Germany-But so what?
I'll be the first one to admit that I wasn't wild about going to Austria. I wanted to study abroad, but in Germany. But that wasn't in the cards for me. It's as if I was meant to come here.
My first 3 months here were a test. I wasn't homesick, but I was lonely and annoyed bý the new culture that I had entered. I didn't realize that it was culture shock, but it was. I was adjusting to living in a foreign country that wasn't Germany.
It was hard to meet the locals at first. In our program, we are all Americans, and we stick with our little group. It is, after all, much easier to stay around the people that understand the same pop culture references and, of course, what it feels like to be a foreigner in this country.
However, enough was finally enough, and, although I do like the people in my program, I am here to study and learn German in context. So I decided to take the plunge and join a Catholic church group here. It was difficult for me to take that step. I am always tired on Wednesdays after babysitting, so I normally just head home. But I knew eventually, if I wanted to meet people, I had to put in the effort. So I went to the prayer circle. And, to my surprise, met many nice people that invited me to join them right away. Now I have lunches planned, parties to go to, weekly church events, etc. All it took was that one step.
I've heard it from German women living in the states before, and now I am living it here. It is difficult being a foreigner. It is lonely. You stand there at school, at the store, on the street, just hoping to be noticed. Hoping that someone will see, perhaps, that you are new to the area. Will they come up and talk to you? Will they invite you out for coffee? Will they even notice you at all?
The problem with being passive is that it gets you nowhere in a foreign land. People aren't mind readers. If you want to meet people, you have to go up to them. I'm not talking about being over aggressive and creepy. I'm talking about taking a small step. What about that nice girl in class who always says hi to you when you walk in? Why not sit next to her and ask her for her e-mail address, in case you have any questions about the class, as you are an exchange student? What about that woman you see everyday when you drop off your kids? Perhaps you could arrange a playdate and you two could bond over coffee?
It's all easier said than done. But if I hadn't walked into that church, looking all nervous and uncomfortable, I would still be lonely and out of touch with this culture. I put myself out there, and now I feel so much more comfortable here. Sometimes all it takes is a few friends and a new understanding of a culture :)
And so, I will say something I never thought I would. I love Salzburg. I really do. I love walking around and seeing the fortress, going to the cafe behind my Studentenwohnheim for a latte macchiato friddo, riding my bike to the supermarket, walking over the bridge to the bus stop while admiring the Salzach river, meeting friends for coffee and cake, babysitting for two adorable Austrian girls, and so much more. As one Republic says, 'There's nothing to complain about.' I now walk around and smile.
:)
My first 3 months here were a test. I wasn't homesick, but I was lonely and annoyed bý the new culture that I had entered. I didn't realize that it was culture shock, but it was. I was adjusting to living in a foreign country that wasn't Germany.
It was hard to meet the locals at first. In our program, we are all Americans, and we stick with our little group. It is, after all, much easier to stay around the people that understand the same pop culture references and, of course, what it feels like to be a foreigner in this country.
However, enough was finally enough, and, although I do like the people in my program, I am here to study and learn German in context. So I decided to take the plunge and join a Catholic church group here. It was difficult for me to take that step. I am always tired on Wednesdays after babysitting, so I normally just head home. But I knew eventually, if I wanted to meet people, I had to put in the effort. So I went to the prayer circle. And, to my surprise, met many nice people that invited me to join them right away. Now I have lunches planned, parties to go to, weekly church events, etc. All it took was that one step.
I've heard it from German women living in the states before, and now I am living it here. It is difficult being a foreigner. It is lonely. You stand there at school, at the store, on the street, just hoping to be noticed. Hoping that someone will see, perhaps, that you are new to the area. Will they come up and talk to you? Will they invite you out for coffee? Will they even notice you at all?
The problem with being passive is that it gets you nowhere in a foreign land. People aren't mind readers. If you want to meet people, you have to go up to them. I'm not talking about being over aggressive and creepy. I'm talking about taking a small step. What about that nice girl in class who always says hi to you when you walk in? Why not sit next to her and ask her for her e-mail address, in case you have any questions about the class, as you are an exchange student? What about that woman you see everyday when you drop off your kids? Perhaps you could arrange a playdate and you two could bond over coffee?
It's all easier said than done. But if I hadn't walked into that church, looking all nervous and uncomfortable, I would still be lonely and out of touch with this culture. I put myself out there, and now I feel so much more comfortable here. Sometimes all it takes is a few friends and a new understanding of a culture :)
And so, I will say something I never thought I would. I love Salzburg. I really do. I love walking around and seeing the fortress, going to the cafe behind my Studentenwohnheim for a latte macchiato friddo, riding my bike to the supermarket, walking over the bridge to the bus stop while admiring the Salzach river, meeting friends for coffee and cake, babysitting for two adorable Austrian girls, and so much more. As one Republic says, 'There's nothing to complain about.' I now walk around and smile.
:)
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Oops, wrong train + Hey-you're American: why aren't you fat?
Oops, wrong train
On Thursday I made the long journey from Goslar back to Salzburg. Everything went smoothly for a while, until the 2nd time I was supposed to change trains. When I arrived at the correct platform I noticed that the train arriving several minutes before mine was delayed, a normal occurrence when dealing with Deutsche Bahn (the German train company). A few minutes went by and then a train arrived. Assuming it was mine, as the other train was to be very much delayed, I double checked (it was indeed heading to Munich) and got on. I read my trashy gossip magazine, watched lifetime movies until my laptop battery died, and then basically died of boredom. As I glanced at my watch I was a bit surprised. We were already 20 minutes late, and I had missed my next connecting train in Munich. I didn't remember an announcement that we were delayed, as is customary in this situation. Then suddenly there was an announcement on the loudspeaker, "Ladies and gentlemen, we have arrived at Ulm main station." Ulm?? I wanted to go to Munich! I spoke with the woman next to me, asking her why we weren't in Munich. "We will be, in 2 hours!" Huh? Then I realized what I had done. I had gotten on the train that takes for ever and stops in all major cities. In other words: the wrong train! I learned that the hard way....
------
Hey-you're American: why aren't you fat?
On Saturday, the day after arriving back in Salzburg, my friend Chuck and I went shopping at the local mall. This type of outing always ends with coffee at McCafe, and that day was no different. He and I got seats next to two morbidly obese Austrian girls. They had more than there fair share of food on their plates, and they of course had dessert to go with it.
When I sat down with my iced coffee, I was excited to taste it. I hadn't had iced coffee in a long time. When I tasted it, I made a face, as it had sugar in it, even though I had specifically asked the barista whether or not it was sweetened. I explained to Chuck, in English what they had done. The fat girls next to us talked about me in German, thinking that I didn't understand. They wondered out loud why I was complaining about it not having sugar. And at one point the girl said, "I guess not all Americans are fat. I mean look at us, Austrians are fatter."
Ignorance is everywhere, not just in America. No, not all Americans are fat. And for the record, I frequent McDonald's for the coffee and not for the quarter pounder with cheese (which I have never even had, by the way). And some Americans can speak German-10% of the population to be more exact. You, my dears, are twits.
Oh life abroad... Adding to stories for my upcoming best-seller :)
On Thursday I made the long journey from Goslar back to Salzburg. Everything went smoothly for a while, until the 2nd time I was supposed to change trains. When I arrived at the correct platform I noticed that the train arriving several minutes before mine was delayed, a normal occurrence when dealing with Deutsche Bahn (the German train company). A few minutes went by and then a train arrived. Assuming it was mine, as the other train was to be very much delayed, I double checked (it was indeed heading to Munich) and got on. I read my trashy gossip magazine, watched lifetime movies until my laptop battery died, and then basically died of boredom. As I glanced at my watch I was a bit surprised. We were already 20 minutes late, and I had missed my next connecting train in Munich. I didn't remember an announcement that we were delayed, as is customary in this situation. Then suddenly there was an announcement on the loudspeaker, "Ladies and gentlemen, we have arrived at Ulm main station." Ulm?? I wanted to go to Munich! I spoke with the woman next to me, asking her why we weren't in Munich. "We will be, in 2 hours!" Huh? Then I realized what I had done. I had gotten on the train that takes for ever and stops in all major cities. In other words: the wrong train! I learned that the hard way....
------
Hey-you're American: why aren't you fat?
On Saturday, the day after arriving back in Salzburg, my friend Chuck and I went shopping at the local mall. This type of outing always ends with coffee at McCafe, and that day was no different. He and I got seats next to two morbidly obese Austrian girls. They had more than there fair share of food on their plates, and they of course had dessert to go with it.
When I sat down with my iced coffee, I was excited to taste it. I hadn't had iced coffee in a long time. When I tasted it, I made a face, as it had sugar in it, even though I had specifically asked the barista whether or not it was sweetened. I explained to Chuck, in English what they had done. The fat girls next to us talked about me in German, thinking that I didn't understand. They wondered out loud why I was complaining about it not having sugar. And at one point the girl said, "I guess not all Americans are fat. I mean look at us, Austrians are fatter."
Ignorance is everywhere, not just in America. No, not all Americans are fat. And for the record, I frequent McDonald's for the coffee and not for the quarter pounder with cheese (which I have never even had, by the way). And some Americans can speak German-10% of the population to be more exact. You, my dears, are twits.
Oh life abroad... Adding to stories for my upcoming best-seller :)
Sunday, January 2, 2011
A Brush With Death
Dear Germany,
I love you, but I hate your public transportation system on holidays. Why? read on...
Today, Sunday, January 2nd is the day after New Year's Day. This is the day that everyone (and I mean everyone) in Germany takes the train back home to wherever the hell they came from. And that means the trains are fuller than full. Why then, would the train to Hannover be half the size of a normal one? Hasn't Deutsche Bahn done this before? Aren't they aware that more than 5 people are going to be on the train? Next time I would suggest a larger train. Thanks :)
Oh and the bus from Goslar to Bockwiese was fabulous. Getting on the bus was an adventure. Tired of waiting in line, I waited for my first opportunity to get onto the bus through the backdoor (I had a pre-paid ticket anyway). As I got on, the crazy bus driver screamed at me and the others who had decided to take this route rather than wait 10 years to get on, and accused of of getting on the bus without a ticket. I have one you twit, I just want to be able to get on the bus? Ok? So after being forced to get back in line, I was the last person to get on. All of the seats (and spots to stand) were in fact full, but I made everybody squeeze in so I could get on. I was nearly in the bus driver's lap, but it worked out.
Until the bus driver started driving. He screamed at us for about 15 minutes, claiming that he is overworked and underpaid, and that they should have more than 1 bus running every 2 hours on a holiday, since they know there are going to be a lot of people traveling. I fully agree with this, but can't he take this up with his boss? What can a group of tourists do about it? As he went on with his little spiel, I honestly was afraid we wouldn't make it to Bockwiese alive. I was hoping he wasn't suddenly getting suicidal on us at that point....
I tell ya, the people you meet abroad...
Maybe I could right a book? haha.
I love you, but I hate your public transportation system on holidays. Why? read on...
Today, Sunday, January 2nd is the day after New Year's Day. This is the day that everyone (and I mean everyone) in Germany takes the train back home to wherever the hell they came from. And that means the trains are fuller than full. Why then, would the train to Hannover be half the size of a normal one? Hasn't Deutsche Bahn done this before? Aren't they aware that more than 5 people are going to be on the train? Next time I would suggest a larger train. Thanks :)
Oh and the bus from Goslar to Bockwiese was fabulous. Getting on the bus was an adventure. Tired of waiting in line, I waited for my first opportunity to get onto the bus through the backdoor (I had a pre-paid ticket anyway). As I got on, the crazy bus driver screamed at me and the others who had decided to take this route rather than wait 10 years to get on, and accused of of getting on the bus without a ticket. I have one you twit, I just want to be able to get on the bus? Ok? So after being forced to get back in line, I was the last person to get on. All of the seats (and spots to stand) were in fact full, but I made everybody squeeze in so I could get on. I was nearly in the bus driver's lap, but it worked out.
Until the bus driver started driving. He screamed at us for about 15 minutes, claiming that he is overworked and underpaid, and that they should have more than 1 bus running every 2 hours on a holiday, since they know there are going to be a lot of people traveling. I fully agree with this, but can't he take this up with his boss? What can a group of tourists do about it? As he went on with his little spiel, I honestly was afraid we wouldn't make it to Bockwiese alive. I was hoping he wasn't suddenly getting suicidal on us at that point....
I tell ya, the people you meet abroad...
Maybe I could right a book? haha.
Kerstin
In fall of 2008, I went with my mother to Toronto to experience the city (and the Toronto Film Festival) for the very first time. And I did. We saw the sites and even an awesome German film, which included a question and answer session with the director after the film. However, I never expected to meet such a wonderful friend.
One morning we got up bright and early to head to Niagara Falls. My mother had arranged for us to go with a tour group, thus avoiding logistics and making it more comfortable for us. On the bus I wanted to die. It must've been 8am, an ungodly hour for me (come to think of it, anything before noon is ungodly to this girl), and I was half asleep. However, as soon as I heard someone speak German, I just perked up. (To this day hearing German in America makes me smile) I turned around to see a girl about my age conversing with her mother in what happens to be my foreign language of choice.
To say something or not to say something? Sometimes I do, sometimes I don't. But the girl was my age, and we were going to be on that bus for a long while...so I thought, why not? And I did say hi, and we did start to talk. She was German, studying at a university nearby, and her mother was there for a visit. Her name is Kerstin, and we spent most of the day talking.
At the end of the day, we exchanged first and last names, promising to add each other on facebook: and we did. We e-mailed back and forth for about a year and a half. Just short facebook messages, letting each other know what was going on in our lives. And then it got to a point where I was going to study abroad. I got a scholarship to study in Salzburg, and when I told Kerstin that, she mentioned that she studied only 20 minutes away from there! It was really a ridiculous coincidence.
So, a girl that I had only met one time met me at the train station in Salzburg, helped me get to my room, and hung out with me at dinner that night. Since then we have met up numerous time, including when she helped celebrate my birthday with me. In February we are going to visit her parents in Abu Dhabi, where they currently live.
Who would've thought? Just reach out and say hi to someone. You never know where it will take you!
One morning we got up bright and early to head to Niagara Falls. My mother had arranged for us to go with a tour group, thus avoiding logistics and making it more comfortable for us. On the bus I wanted to die. It must've been 8am, an ungodly hour for me (come to think of it, anything before noon is ungodly to this girl), and I was half asleep. However, as soon as I heard someone speak German, I just perked up. (To this day hearing German in America makes me smile) I turned around to see a girl about my age conversing with her mother in what happens to be my foreign language of choice.
To say something or not to say something? Sometimes I do, sometimes I don't. But the girl was my age, and we were going to be on that bus for a long while...so I thought, why not? And I did say hi, and we did start to talk. She was German, studying at a university nearby, and her mother was there for a visit. Her name is Kerstin, and we spent most of the day talking.
At the end of the day, we exchanged first and last names, promising to add each other on facebook: and we did. We e-mailed back and forth for about a year and a half. Just short facebook messages, letting each other know what was going on in our lives. And then it got to a point where I was going to study abroad. I got a scholarship to study in Salzburg, and when I told Kerstin that, she mentioned that she studied only 20 minutes away from there! It was really a ridiculous coincidence.
So, a girl that I had only met one time met me at the train station in Salzburg, helped me get to my room, and hung out with me at dinner that night. Since then we have met up numerous time, including when she helped celebrate my birthday with me. In February we are going to visit her parents in Abu Dhabi, where they currently live.
Who would've thought? Just reach out and say hi to someone. You never know where it will take you!
Who knew?
It’s really funny how things work out. Put yourself out there and who knows what kind of wonderful people you are going to meet.
For example:
On a warm day in May of 2007 I was invited to go swimming with my friend Felicia at the beach by her house. I was definitely in, despite not being in love with the sun. I do enjoy swimming, so I thought, why not? When we got to the beach we set our towels down and laid down for a while. My mind drifted off, until I heard the child next to me. He was speaking with his mother in German. German was my major in college, and I loved listening to natives speak. I was especially proud to be able to understand them. After a few minutes, I got up the courage to say something to the little boy. I don’t remember exactly what I said, but within seconds he said, in German, “Hey mom, that girl can speak German!.” She explained to him that we were in America, and that I couldn’t speak German. Then I explained to her that I, indeed, could speak it. Surprised, we began a conversation. I told her, and the other German women with her, that I studied German at college and had even traveled to Germany once. They were impressed. When I told them I loved kids and that I babysit, I had sold them. A few took down my name and number, including Christine. I really had no idea how things would evolve from there.
A few months later, after I had arrived back from another three week stint in Germany, I sat on my mom’s bed, crying, missing Germany. In a way I was homesick for a country that wasn’t even mine. Trying to distract myself,I grabbed my laptop, checked my inbox, and there was an e-mail from one of the women that I had spoken with at the beach! I hadn’t really expected it. It’s like meeting a guy at a bar. You give him your number, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that he will call. But, as my mom says, “when one door closes, another one opens.” Her name was Christine and she had two young boys. She said they lived nearby, and asked if I was still interested in babysitting. I was so excited! I replied yes right away, and we arranged a meeting soon after.
I didn’t remember which family they were. They were a large group of women and children that day on the beach. So, as I rang the doorball, I was excited to see which family it actually was. I was a little bit nervous. I wanted them to like me, and I was hoping I’d like them. Would my German be okay? Would the kids like me?
I needn’t have worried. When I came over for a visit I expected to stay for a few minutes. I ended up staying for a few hours, playing with the kids. They were just so adorable I couldn’t resist. And then there’s Christine. I don’t know what it is about her, but she is just one of those people that others are drawn to. She’s so kind, so fun, easy-going, so down to earth, so easily amused. It’s nearly impossible to be sad around her. I can’t think of a time I’ve been around her and haven’t laughed.
I ended up babysitting for the kids about once a month, but I saw them more often. We met at my house, at there’s, at Crust Pizza, at the circus, at the…you get it. There was a friendship developing.
During this time Christine also recommended me to other German woman. The Germans in the Birmingham/Bloomfield area were a community. News of a German speaking babysitter spread fast, and I quickly became very busy. I loved it. Half of my week was spent speaking German, or a least in German-speaking households. The parents loved it because I could speak German with their children, most of whom were toddlers and didn’t speak English. I loved it because I felt like I was taking a crash course on the German language and culture. I was getting more experience than the other people studying German at my university. I felt lucky.
A few months after I that first meeting with Christine and her family at their house, Christine and I had lunch (at Crust, naturally), with another German woman named Susanne. Susanne also had two young boys, and was looking for a babysitter. So who better to watch them than me? (Don’t answer that). I was hoping I would get along with this family as well as I did with Christine's. At first, I was a bit nervous around Susanne. She is so direct, and isn't one to bite her tongue when someone is out of line. But I soon discovered what a sweetheart she is. She is one of the warmest, kindest people I know. Come to her with a problem, and she will make you feel better. I always looked forward to the afternoons when her son, Nikolaus was asleep, and she would come home with lunch for us from Panera Bread. She would make me tea, and we would sit down, share a sandwich and talk. 2 people, different ages, and different cultural backgrounds, enjoying each other's company.
All good things come to end, and so did this. In December of 2008, many German expat families headed back to Germany for good, including 2 families to whom I was very close: Christine and her family, and Susanne and hers. I invited them to lunch with my mother and me on my 21st birthday to help celebrate, and say goodbye. We had an enjoyable lunch. The kids crawled around the whole place, but I don’t think anyone minded. They were pretty cute. All went well, even with the goodbyes. I know people say it’s a stereotype that Germans are “tough,” but I think it rings true. I tried not to get emotional as I hugged them goodbye. Afterall, I knew I was heading to Germany during the summer (2009). I would see them right?
All of this reasoning seemed to work for me: until I sat down in the car and we drove back home. I started bawling. I felt like I was saying goodbye to close friends that I’d known forever. I may have not known them forever, but it sure felt like it. I cared about them like they were family.
Fast forward to December 11, 2010. 2 years after we celebrated my 21st birthday together, and having seen them numerous times since, Susanne and her family celebrated my 23rd with me in a restaurant in Salzburg. As we toasted with wine, Susanne said she never guessed we would be reunited again: in Salzburg of all places! And I was inclined to agree. You just never know where life will take you.
For example:
On a warm day in May of 2007 I was invited to go swimming with my friend Felicia at the beach by her house. I was definitely in, despite not being in love with the sun. I do enjoy swimming, so I thought, why not? When we got to the beach we set our towels down and laid down for a while. My mind drifted off, until I heard the child next to me. He was speaking with his mother in German. German was my major in college, and I loved listening to natives speak. I was especially proud to be able to understand them. After a few minutes, I got up the courage to say something to the little boy. I don’t remember exactly what I said, but within seconds he said, in German, “Hey mom, that girl can speak German!.” She explained to him that we were in America, and that I couldn’t speak German. Then I explained to her that I, indeed, could speak it. Surprised, we began a conversation. I told her, and the other German women with her, that I studied German at college and had even traveled to Germany once. They were impressed. When I told them I loved kids and that I babysit, I had sold them. A few took down my name and number, including Christine. I really had no idea how things would evolve from there.
A few months later, after I had arrived back from another three week stint in Germany, I sat on my mom’s bed, crying, missing Germany. In a way I was homesick for a country that wasn’t even mine. Trying to distract myself,I grabbed my laptop, checked my inbox, and there was an e-mail from one of the women that I had spoken with at the beach! I hadn’t really expected it. It’s like meeting a guy at a bar. You give him your number, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that he will call. But, as my mom says, “when one door closes, another one opens.” Her name was Christine and she had two young boys. She said they lived nearby, and asked if I was still interested in babysitting. I was so excited! I replied yes right away, and we arranged a meeting soon after.
I didn’t remember which family they were. They were a large group of women and children that day on the beach. So, as I rang the doorball, I was excited to see which family it actually was. I was a little bit nervous. I wanted them to like me, and I was hoping I’d like them. Would my German be okay? Would the kids like me?
I needn’t have worried. When I came over for a visit I expected to stay for a few minutes. I ended up staying for a few hours, playing with the kids. They were just so adorable I couldn’t resist. And then there’s Christine. I don’t know what it is about her, but she is just one of those people that others are drawn to. She’s so kind, so fun, easy-going, so down to earth, so easily amused. It’s nearly impossible to be sad around her. I can’t think of a time I’ve been around her and haven’t laughed.
I ended up babysitting for the kids about once a month, but I saw them more often. We met at my house, at there’s, at Crust Pizza, at the circus, at the…you get it. There was a friendship developing.
During this time Christine also recommended me to other German woman. The Germans in the Birmingham/Bloomfield area were a community. News of a German speaking babysitter spread fast, and I quickly became very busy. I loved it. Half of my week was spent speaking German, or a least in German-speaking households. The parents loved it because I could speak German with their children, most of whom were toddlers and didn’t speak English. I loved it because I felt like I was taking a crash course on the German language and culture. I was getting more experience than the other people studying German at my university. I felt lucky.
A few months after I that first meeting with Christine and her family at their house, Christine and I had lunch (at Crust, naturally), with another German woman named Susanne. Susanne also had two young boys, and was looking for a babysitter. So who better to watch them than me? (Don’t answer that). I was hoping I would get along with this family as well as I did with Christine's. At first, I was a bit nervous around Susanne. She is so direct, and isn't one to bite her tongue when someone is out of line. But I soon discovered what a sweetheart she is. She is one of the warmest, kindest people I know. Come to her with a problem, and she will make you feel better. I always looked forward to the afternoons when her son, Nikolaus was asleep, and she would come home with lunch for us from Panera Bread. She would make me tea, and we would sit down, share a sandwich and talk. 2 people, different ages, and different cultural backgrounds, enjoying each other's company.
All good things come to end, and so did this. In December of 2008, many German expat families headed back to Germany for good, including 2 families to whom I was very close: Christine and her family, and Susanne and hers. I invited them to lunch with my mother and me on my 21st birthday to help celebrate, and say goodbye. We had an enjoyable lunch. The kids crawled around the whole place, but I don’t think anyone minded. They were pretty cute. All went well, even with the goodbyes. I know people say it’s a stereotype that Germans are “tough,” but I think it rings true. I tried not to get emotional as I hugged them goodbye. Afterall, I knew I was heading to Germany during the summer (2009). I would see them right?
All of this reasoning seemed to work for me: until I sat down in the car and we drove back home. I started bawling. I felt like I was saying goodbye to close friends that I’d known forever. I may have not known them forever, but it sure felt like it. I cared about them like they were family.
Fast forward to December 11, 2010. 2 years after we celebrated my 21st birthday together, and having seen them numerous times since, Susanne and her family celebrated my 23rd with me in a restaurant in Salzburg. As we toasted with wine, Susanne said she never guessed we would be reunited again: in Salzburg of all places! And I was inclined to agree. You just never know where life will take you.
Tourist?
On a sunny day in Munich in September 2010, Susanne, her son Frederic, and I went on a bike ride through the famous Englischer Garten in Munich. Along the way I admired the beautiful scenery and enjoyed the company of 2 people who are basically family. Once we got into town, and we had gotten our ice cream, we were ready to do a bit of site-seeing. Susanne kept asking if I wanted to take pictures, if I wanted to look at this or that. And that is when I discovered: I'm not much of a tourist.
Sure, I do enjoy the occasional tourist trap, and there are certain things one must see in every city one visits, but I honestly prefer spending most of my time in Europe as an anthropologist. I like to live with families and experience their everyday life. It sometimes leads to mishaps, but also to good memories and amazing stories.
I have also been able to better understand what German people are truly like. What have I experienced? They are strong and tough, honest to a fault, caring, and loyal. They are a people that I have truly grown to love. They have become a part of me.
I'm starting to think that I was German in another life ;)
Sure, I do enjoy the occasional tourist trap, and there are certain things one must see in every city one visits, but I honestly prefer spending most of my time in Europe as an anthropologist. I like to live with families and experience their everyday life. It sometimes leads to mishaps, but also to good memories and amazing stories.
I have also been able to better understand what German people are truly like. What have I experienced? They are strong and tough, honest to a fault, caring, and loyal. They are a people that I have truly grown to love. They have become a part of me.
I'm starting to think that I was German in another life ;)
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