Bikexperiment, Day 2

(For those wondering, that should be pronounced "bike-speriment," with "bike" being pronounced normally.)

So, day two of riding. I rode for approximately an hour-ish today, though I don't know exactly how much. I braved the embarrassment of riding in front of others and rode around my neighborhood a bit (there's very little traffic there, so it's not a big deal), though one across the train tracks definitely pointed and evidently got a kick out of my obviously novice bike riding. Oh well. I've never minded making a fool of myself in public, so long as I knew I was doing it, and did it on purpose. I'll deal with it.

It went pretty well. I can get started/stay upright the vast majority of the time, though I'm still rather unskilled with things like turning and going uphill (though I managed uphill a couple of times, on a relatively low-incline hill), but I'm getting better all the time, that I can tell. I'm also rather sore right now, because I tense up way too much, and only start to relax when I'm going downhill, or something like that. Keeping my fingers on the brakes keeps me from squeezing the handlebars too tightly, which is also a good thing.

Hope all is well with all of you!

I'm on a Bike

Props to you if you recognize the reference, but don't worry about it if you don't, because it's not a very good song anyway.

If I wanted to reference a good song, I'd have put something along the lines of "I want to ride my bicycle, I want to ride my biiike..." (Thank you, Queen, for writing so many songs that involve bicycles. Even if they are rather bizarre lyrics to include.)

So, it's Herbst Ferien, which means I have two weeks of no school to get through. I say "get through" because the first week of that is a little tough. My social circle is not very large in Rimbach, right now, so I'm, well, a little bored. I went out to dinner and then watched a thoroughly bizarre Danish film called "Adam's Apples" with some other teachers on Friday night (a film I'm still not sure if I actually liked. Some parts were funny, but on a whole, I'm not certain that I'd bother watching it again.), but other than that I don't have much by way of plans. Hanging out with a friend tomorrow, which should be fun, and I was potentially going to go to some kind of ski-aerobics class with another friend tonight, but I may not go to that, because my tennis shoes are soaked, and I'm a little sore.

Which brings me to the title of this post (it's official, I'm needlessly verbose. It took me....what, twenty lines of text to get to the point?), which is that I have officially begun to teach myself how to ride a bike. Before you all go crazy and ask "You can't ride a bike? Can you swim?" (If I am asked that question one more time, I swear, I might explode.), yes, I can't ride a bike. I got to training wheels as a child, and refused to learn how to ride properly. Mostly it was because the continued failure to actually learn it made me furious (yes, I know that falling down a bunch is normal; didn't make me any less mad), and I was a very stubborn child. I'm pretty much just happy that I didn't break the bike in the moments I was angry enough to really want to break something.

See, I used to have a really bad temper. An irrationally bad temper. Yes, anger is usually irrational, but I would get angry at the smallest, stupidest things. For the most part it was a childhood thing, and I grew out of it. I was pretty sure in Brazil, for example, that I had nothing to worry about as far as my temper went anymore. I have discovered over time that certain things will still set me off pretty easily. One of those things is feeling incompetent or failing repeatedly at something, which usually leads to the feeling incompetent. This doesn't happen too horribly often, since I usually also tend to try not to take anything too seriously, since whatever it is I'm doing probably isn't exactly life-changing. But every once in a while, something really gets me going. Attempting to ride a bike today was one of those things.

Anyone who has spent the majority of their life unable to do something that 90% of the population does without actively thinking about, and has tried to learn said thing, knows what I'm talking about. It's even a cliche. "It's just like riding a bike." I loved when people would say that to me, so that I could calmly turn to them and say, "I can't ride a bike." And then watch their face contort as they tried to think of what to say to that. But seriously, it is ridiculously frustrating and embarrassing to have so much difficulty learning something that is essentially the poster-child of "easy."

Which is why I took my bike to an abandoned patch of grass, out of view, and practiced for two hours.

I can stay upright, at least for a while, though I probably could have chosen a better spot to practice, since the ground was uneven and the grass ridiculously long. But I'm getting it. I need a lot of practice, but the simple fact that I actually TRIED today is pretty huge. So I thought I'd share.

And no, I'm not riding on the street much yet. I don't feel like getting hit by a car anytime soon, so I'd rather have much better control before I actually try to go anywhere.

Bitchfresse

So, I went to the Mannheim National Theater fest, and saw a number of neat previews of the season's shows, as well as a couple snippets of "Avenue Q," which will be performed at the theater sometime next year, I believe. I'm not sure exactly when. It's translated into German, which I find a little unfortunate - some of the syllabation was a bit forced in the translation - but all in all I think they did a great job of it. It'll be a good show. I also got to see a preview of former guest teacher Linda's show, Bitchfresse, which is about hip hop and the like in Germany. I went and saw that this past Sunday, and that was quite a good time. I couldn't understand everything, but I got most of it, and it was hilarious. The two actors/singers who performed it played off each other very well, and were great both musically and physically. One of them seemed a bit nervous, as I saw him visibly shaking at one point, but I've certainly been there. My intermediate acting final I was shaking like a leaf during my last monologue. Thankfully it looked at least semi-intentional.

Things are going well otherwise. My English students had to take their first Klausur (one of the two major tests during their term, for the Americans reading), and I received a few unkind glances in regards to it, but I think most teachers get that when giving a test. All in all they look pretty good, though now of course I have the joyous task of correcting them. It's a little more complex than grading homework. But I'll survive, since after this week it's fall break, during which I'll be spending a week in Munich. I can't wait; the friend I'll be staying with is a girl I met in the Amazon while in Brazil, and I haven't seen her for five years. I'll also probably stop by and see a friend I made last time I was in Germany, seven years ago, and catch up a little with her. It should be a great break.

I have decided (almost 100% certainly) that Center Stage will be performing "The Importance of Being Earnest," by Oscar Wilde. I think it's a good show, and relatively simple in meaning, though of course not all of Wilde's puns and innuendo will carry to a German audience. I think we can make it work well, though, and it should be a good experience for both me and the actors in the group. I'm excited.

That's all for now. Hope all is well with all of you.

An Incredibly Small World

So last night I'm out Blues dancing, and after a group of us leave the bar where we dance, we're walking down the streets of Heidelberg, and suddenly someone calls my name from behind me. At first, I'm confused, so I turn to see if I was maybe just hearing things, but then someone calls it again. I see a tall fellow with blonde hair walking toward me, a younger guy with a beard, who doesn't really look familiar. He says, "Is your name Ian? Ian Hathway?" I say yes. "From Janesville?" I say yes, wondering who the hell this random person is who knows where I come from, and he says "I went to Craig high school. Eric; we were in Band together. I played sax."

WHAT.

That's right. I come to Germany, go Blues dancing in Heidelberg (admittedly a very international city), and by chance run into a person who went to high school with me. I saw him AGAIN by chance early this afternoon at the train station, and we talked a little bit more. He graduated in 2009, and after seeing him again, I clearly remember him being in Jazz Band with me my junior year, when I was in Jazz II. He's studying at the university in Heidelberg for a semester.

The world is a far smaller place than we ever realize.

Well That Was Fun

Things are collectively going well, which is the good news. I cooked dinner for five other teachers tonight, and it went pretty well, though somehow some of the rice didn't cook properly, but it was all right in any case. It's interesting trying to host anything in this apartment, though, since there really isn't a table made for more than four people, nor seating for even that many, so it's kind of an adventure. It all worked out though, and we had fun, as usual.

I'm also going Blues dancing again tomorrow, which should be great. I will have to be careful, though, which brings us to the bad news: I have somehow managed to rather heavily bruise my ribs on my left side. There is no outward sign of it, no swelling or discoloration, but the pain is definitely reminiscent of a bruise, as opposed to having pulled a muscle or something similar. I say somehow because I'm not quite sure how I did it. I did collide with another player while playing soccer on Tuesday last week, but my ribs didn't start hurting till the following Sunday, so I'm not sure if that's the sole cause. So I'm taking it easy and not moving too fast for the most part, since anything that jars my upper body hurts. Unfortunately, laughing also hurts, so I spend a fair amount of time in pain when I hang out with some of my friends here. One compassionately suggested that she could punch me whenever she made a joke, so that I wouldn't laugh, but I kindly refused her generous offer.

Things are picking up in school. I'm now singing with the a capella group, the Voice Boys (kind of an amusing name, in my opinion), as well as playing with the big band, playing soccer (though not right now), and tomorrow is the first meeting of Center Stage, the English theater group, which I am now the head of. The teacher who normally leads it is pretty swamped, and although she'll be helping me at all stages of the group, I'm the one actually in charge of it this year, so that should be fun. I'm looking forward to it, though (Dona, thank you for so many good theater exercises! I will put them to good use!), and to picking a show for us to do. I also have to write the first Klausur, or major test, for my English class. They'll take that on Wednesday.

The other note of bad news, which is something I find thoroughly infuriating, is that a student turned in homework that was quite literally a paragraph copied straight out of a National Geographic article. I cannot stand intentional plagiarism like that. When a student forgets to quote something, okay, that's an honest mistake, but cribbing a whole paragraph and turning it in as your own is lazy and insulting to your teacher, besides being illegal. Not to mention how ridiculously obvious it is. Suddenly perfect grammar and an expansive vocabulary? Hmm, whatever could this mean?
I spoke with my class about the issue of plagiarism at some length, and I believe I made enough of an impression as to not have to deal with it too much in the future, but only time will tell. I of course also spoke directly to the student in question after class was finished, and said student seemed genuinely repentant, so here's hoping the lesson sticks.

I think that's all for now. I hope life is treating everyone well.

The Best Day

Yesterday I went to a theater piece at the school, called "Tannöd," and although I only understood perhaps 40% of the speech, I enjoyed it. It was an interesting, dark piece, about a family who had been murdered, and from what I understood, I believe the killer stayed in their house for a couple days, feeding the cattle, etc. Very bizarre. The play itself dealt with the after effects, interviews with other townspeople and things of the sort. It's amazing how much can be communicated through simple body language and expressions.


But the real meat of this post, though it may not be very long, is that I just had the best day. My friend Jana picked me up around 12:30, and announced "We're going to Heidelberg." I had no problem with this, and so we got into the car and drove to Heidelberg, talking about music and listening to a French group called ZAZA, who I really like, now. I joked that I was glad I'd made a friend with good taste.

In Heidelberg, we continuously joked around, and ate Japanese for lunch, and walked up to the castle in the humidity (and were sweating more than we thought we would. She griped, so I picked her up and basket-carried her up the last set of steps as a joke.), and just stood and enjoyed the view. I hadn't grabbed my camera, since I didn't realize we'd be going to Heidelberg, but I'm sure I'll go there again. We turned back when we saw you had to pay to actually go into the castle, and randomly talked with some older ladies from Alabama on the walk down the hill. We then stopped and ate what are without doubt the BEST WAFFLES IN THE WORLD. I kid you not. I had a fresh-made Belgian waffle with homemade raspberry sorbet and hot chocolate sauce on it. It was pretty much the best thing I've ever eaten. She had the same, but with maracuja sorbet. We walked back to the car and drove back to Rimbach, where I showed her some Lindy Hop videos so she had some idea of the kind of dancing I do, and then upon her protesting that she cannot dance, I taught her a little basic Blues, at which point I discovered that she follows very well. We then proceeded to dance for an hour and a half to the songs on a Blues CD I gave her last week, before she went home, instead of watching "Shawshank Redemption" like we'd planned. Best change of plans ever made.

Today was the best day. ^_^

What Will You Do When You're Old?

So, in my conversation class today, we talked about what we're going to do, and what we all want to do in the future, and I encouraged the students to ask questions, either of me about the United States or about myself, or else of each other, as well. And one student asked about whether or not I wanted to have kids later in life, since I had mentioned that I'm not a fan of small children. I responded that I don't want to have children, or don't see any reason for me to have children (with my usual caveat that I'm not going to say "I will never have children," lest I end up with eight). And another girl promptly asked me, "But what will you do when you're old?" I knew what she meant, more or less, but for the sake of a little black humor I cocked my eyebrow and looked at her, and said simply, "Die." I laughed and said I was joking, of course, but that I would probably continue doing when I was old whatever it was I was doing the year before, and the year before that, etc. And she said, "But you'll be alone." To which I responded, "Of course I won't. I have brothers, and they'll have kids, and I have very close friends, and very tightly knit friendships. But as for dying alone, well, even if I had kids, I wouldn't force them to live in my basement till I died, so I highly doubt that they'd be in the house in any case." We all laughed and joked, and kept the conversation light, but it did spark a thought that I think is rather odd.

In the U.S., and here as well, it seems that people think that to have family means only to get married, and have kids. I think that's silly, since our families are much larger than just that small nuclear unit, but also because we oftentimes forge friendships that are at least as close as the bonds that blood makes between us. My brother Andy, for example, is neither biologically nor legally my brother, but calls my parents Mom and Dad, and is such a part of the family in so many ways that he can't really be called just a "friend." He's my brother. For my parents, for quite some time I imagine it was almost like having another son, since he was at our house so often, and would help out with things when we needed it, would go on family trips with us, or take care of things for us when we were gone on trips he didn't/couldn't go on. The concept of ever actually being alone, truly alone, is preposterous. The only way for someone to be alone is for them to be physically or socially isolated, by themselves or others, from contact with other human beings.

Coupled with this idea is the implication that a person can't have a fulfilling life without having kids. That, I definitely think ridiculous. Now, this is not to take anything whatsoever away from parents. My own, for example, are incredible people. As a matter of fact, I would argue that raising a child is by far the most difficult endeavor a human being can undertake. But to think that it is somehow the only way for a person to feel fulfilled in their life is something I just cannot credit.

So, if I end up old, lonely, and bitter at all my friends who have children, please remind me that I said this now, and say "I told you so." :-P

Best wishes to you all.