...Wait, I think I did that wrong. ;-)
I hope some of you got that, but I suppose I should probably explain. The Abis (students who just made their Abitur/graduated) will occasionally break out into a cheer that goes something along the lines of "Abi Abi Abi!" "Tur!" "Abi!" "Tur!" and so forth, and it's essentially the "Aussie Aussie Aussie!" "Oi Oi Oi!" cheer.
So, it's been more than a month since I wrote something on here. I'm terribly sorry about that, but it's been pretty busy. The show in Mannheim went very well, and I really had a ton of fun there. We had a pretty good turnout, too, except the last show; that one was a little spare. In between those shows, I was trying to keep on top of corrections and school work, and was only marginally successful. But that's all behind me now.
Last week my Aunt Pat was here to visit me, which was a really great time. I had a lot of fun with her, and she really enjoyed seeing the "real" Germany. We didn't place a huge emphasis on sightseeing, but rather wandered around Mannheim and Heidelberg a lot, and ate lots of traditional German food, and had a beer or two, an apple wine or two, and of course pretzels.
However, since she was here, I didn't really do much by the way of school work, except what I absolutely had to do. That means that I had to finish the rest of my students' last Klausuren in the few days between when she left and Thursday, when final grades were due. It was crazy, and made crazier by a lot of other things going on.
Tuesday and Wednesday were almost wholly consumed by setting up the exhibition for the Living History Project. This is a class Romy Schuster and I have been working with all year, and the students have put together an exhibition on the partnership between St. Olaf and the Martin Luther Schule. It's a great exhibition, and very informative. Tuesday evening I also took part in the Abikammerkonzert (Abitur Chamber Concert), singing with the Voice Boys. A number of Abiturienten/innen performed various musical acts, and a couple were really impressive. Similar to St. Olaf, there is some real musical talent at this school. I think it would be good for us to try to foster some stronger connections between the music departments here, and maybe the Band/Orchestra/Choir's next international tour ought to be to Germany.
Wednesday was the opening of the exhibition, and it was also a day when the Abis pretty much take over the school. We came in to find that the teachers' lounge had been filled with balloons, and the Abis blocked all the entrances and exits to the school grounds with squirt guns and paints. Anyone attempting to get through was doused and painted. It was a pretty crazy experience, and one that I don't think would fly at all in the U.S.
Thursday I had coffee and cake with Thea Jakob, the widow of Willi Jakob, who was very influential in the reemergence of the program. It was a very pleasant meeting, and she is more or less famous for her cakes, so that was wonderful, too.
I've booked my flights to Sweden and then to D.C., where I'll finally get to meet my best friend's fiance, and then back to Chicago. Grades are in. I have already had my last 11th grade dance class, and my last conversation class. I'll have my last 8th grade dance class on Monday, and my last English class on Wednesday. My main commitments now are musical; rehearsals for the Abi Ball, and then also for the CD the Big Band is going to record. I'm very much looking forward to that. I'm going to sing Minnie the Moocher at the Abi Ball with the Big Band, too. I can't wait.
Thursday marked exactly one month till I leave Germany. It's crazy.
Saturday, June 16, 2012
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
Whoa There!
So, so, so much to tell since the last post. I'm sorry I've been so out of touch here, but life has been crazy. There's a lot to cover, so some things will be mostly just summarized, rather than described in detail, so you don't have to read a short novel just to catch up.
Easter Break was fantastic; I spent ten days in England, which was really fantastic. I visited my friend Jim, who had been my counselor at a summer study program I did at Cambridge University about seven and a half years ago. It was a blast to see him again, and we had a lot of fun hanging out in Norwich. We went birdwatching, sampled the finest of British comedy, took a brewery/pub tour, and went and saw a great blues band. I then went to Birmingham to visit my friend Agnieszka, who I knew from her exchange to the U.S. also about seven and a half years ago (the last time I'd seen her was the day before I left for England). It was great to see her, and catch up, and I also got to take a trip down to Bristol to visit a fellow Ole and swing dancer, Chris. All in all it was a wonderful and relaxing trip. I could obviously go on about quite a few things concerning England (new friends made, etc), but mostly I just hung out with people. I didn't go there with the intention to sightsee, though of course I did some, but rather just to see people and spend some quality time with them.
Then when I got back, life got busy real fast. I was having about four-six individual rehearsals every week with the members of the various sketches in the show for Center Stage, as well as having evening rehearsals in Mannheim for This Lime Bower. A girl I had hoped to potentially start something with when I returned home informed me that she had been dating someone since the first of April, so that threw me for a loop, as well, and it all just sort of swirled together into a mash of sadness at that fact, stressing out about how much work needed to be done for Center Stage, and sheer enjoyment of the moments during rehearsals with the students when things would just click. The last few weeks have been some of the most demanding, and most difficult of my life, I think. I was honestly worried about whether or not we would pull of the show at times, and whether or not the kids would really be ready for the stage.
The week before the show was insane. I'm not sure I've ever been quite so active. I was on the go constantly, trying to figure out everything that needed doing, and if not for the two teachers that helped me, Anette and Romy, I would never have gotten it all done, or figured out how to do most of it. We managed to work with the tech team, despite myriad technical difficulties relating to the room we were performing in (our normal space was under construction), and get the sound and light figured out more or less satisfactorily. Assembling the stage was a relatively minor challenge, but still a bit of a challenge. Since we hadn't been able to rehearse on the stage until that week, and indeed didn't even know what the stage would look like, all the plays had to be blocked out (that means that the actors' movements needed to be planned or fit to the stage) again in the space. Most of the shows are fairly static, but a couple required more movement. Props were assembled, and fake blood made, and sound effects found. That Thursday I had 13 and a half hours of rehearsal. 7:30 to 17:00 with Center Stage, and 20:00 to 23:00 with TiG7 in Mannheim. And then I was on the train to Rimbach again at 6:00 in the morning to get back for our 7:30 rehearsal. The title of the show, by the by, was "It's Art! (I'm Not Crazy!)."
I am very, very proud of my students; of the work they put in, the progress they made, and the performances they put on. The shows went well, and even when a fair amount of lines were dropped or parts were skipped on Saturday night, the actors kept the show moving, and didn't let the audience know, which is a major part of theater. I feel very lucky to have worked with such a wonderful group of kids, and am extremely grateful to them for their efforts and their patience with their often-distracted and often-contradictory director.
This coming weekend is the show in Mannheim, and I'm looking forward to that. It's part of an English theater festival, so there are a number of actors there from the U.S. and U.K., and I got to meet a few of them the last couple days. It should be a good weekend.
All the best to everyone.
Easter Break was fantastic; I spent ten days in England, which was really fantastic. I visited my friend Jim, who had been my counselor at a summer study program I did at Cambridge University about seven and a half years ago. It was a blast to see him again, and we had a lot of fun hanging out in Norwich. We went birdwatching, sampled the finest of British comedy, took a brewery/pub tour, and went and saw a great blues band. I then went to Birmingham to visit my friend Agnieszka, who I knew from her exchange to the U.S. also about seven and a half years ago (the last time I'd seen her was the day before I left for England). It was great to see her, and catch up, and I also got to take a trip down to Bristol to visit a fellow Ole and swing dancer, Chris. All in all it was a wonderful and relaxing trip. I could obviously go on about quite a few things concerning England (new friends made, etc), but mostly I just hung out with people. I didn't go there with the intention to sightsee, though of course I did some, but rather just to see people and spend some quality time with them.
Then when I got back, life got busy real fast. I was having about four-six individual rehearsals every week with the members of the various sketches in the show for Center Stage, as well as having evening rehearsals in Mannheim for This Lime Bower. A girl I had hoped to potentially start something with when I returned home informed me that she had been dating someone since the first of April, so that threw me for a loop, as well, and it all just sort of swirled together into a mash of sadness at that fact, stressing out about how much work needed to be done for Center Stage, and sheer enjoyment of the moments during rehearsals with the students when things would just click. The last few weeks have been some of the most demanding, and most difficult of my life, I think. I was honestly worried about whether or not we would pull of the show at times, and whether or not the kids would really be ready for the stage.
The week before the show was insane. I'm not sure I've ever been quite so active. I was on the go constantly, trying to figure out everything that needed doing, and if not for the two teachers that helped me, Anette and Romy, I would never have gotten it all done, or figured out how to do most of it. We managed to work with the tech team, despite myriad technical difficulties relating to the room we were performing in (our normal space was under construction), and get the sound and light figured out more or less satisfactorily. Assembling the stage was a relatively minor challenge, but still a bit of a challenge. Since we hadn't been able to rehearse on the stage until that week, and indeed didn't even know what the stage would look like, all the plays had to be blocked out (that means that the actors' movements needed to be planned or fit to the stage) again in the space. Most of the shows are fairly static, but a couple required more movement. Props were assembled, and fake blood made, and sound effects found. That Thursday I had 13 and a half hours of rehearsal. 7:30 to 17:00 with Center Stage, and 20:00 to 23:00 with TiG7 in Mannheim. And then I was on the train to Rimbach again at 6:00 in the morning to get back for our 7:30 rehearsal. The title of the show, by the by, was "It's Art! (I'm Not Crazy!)."
I am very, very proud of my students; of the work they put in, the progress they made, and the performances they put on. The shows went well, and even when a fair amount of lines were dropped or parts were skipped on Saturday night, the actors kept the show moving, and didn't let the audience know, which is a major part of theater. I feel very lucky to have worked with such a wonderful group of kids, and am extremely grateful to them for their efforts and their patience with their often-distracted and often-contradictory director.
This coming weekend is the show in Mannheim, and I'm looking forward to that. It's part of an English theater festival, so there are a number of actors there from the U.S. and U.K., and I got to meet a few of them the last couple days. It should be a good weekend.
All the best to everyone.
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Busy Bees!
Wow, lots to report!
First off, Virginia Larson (who keeps all of us Rimbach folks up to date, and so much more) sent me an email the other day - okay, it was more like three weeks ago - and she had a couple questions, which I think I will answer here.
How would you rate your year?
To this question, I'm honestly not sure how to respond. I have had a lot of wonderful experiences here, and a few that weren't so wonderful, but it's hard to give a whole year some kind of rating. It's been a worthwhile experience on all fronts, and I wouldn't have traded it for anything else. So, I guess on a scale of 1 to 10, it ranks at "great, but incomplete?" :-P
What are the highs?
The highs...I'm really not certain, exactly. I have had a lot of experiences over here that have been truly wonderful. Getting to know my friend Jana and her family, and spending Christmas with them was a warm, welcoming feeling. Laughing about the absurdity of English with my conversation classes is definitely right up there. The opportunity to direct a play, and test myself in that role with Center Stage. Meeting and working with wonderful people at the MLS has been a high point, as well. Making Damn Good Chicken for six people - the first time I'd ever tried something more complex than stir fry for multiple people - and having it work out great was a real triumph, though of a small sort. Introducing my 13th graders to the lighter side of Shakespeare, and hearing them laugh so hard at Dogberry in Much Ado About Nothing. The list goes on.
the lows?
This is an easy one. Loneliness. Living alone after being in the dorms at Olaf is hard, and living in a very small town makes it harder still. I miss having company in my room, or just down the hall, or across campus. Frustrations with myself and my work have cropped up on occasion, and the mistakes I make in my teaching. Wanting to do and see so much here in Europe (I have standing invitations to both Turkey and Italy, and the funds to do neither), and knowing that I have to turn them down simply because I can't do everything. I know that sounds like a whiny "low" to have, because I still have those opportunities, but it's having the opportunity in front of you, and having to say no because despite only being here for a year, there's simply no way to do everything I want to.
Tips for Luke that would be of interest to all of us?
Ask questions. A lot of information gets posted on boards and the like at the school, boards whose purpose you will be told before school has gotten underway, and many of which will only occasionally be relevant for you. If your German is anything like mine, you may not understand all the details of the info you receive, and you will be reliant on your colleagues to clear up any misunderstandings, and make sure you know what you need to know.
Take the initiative, socially and in pretty much everything else. There are a lot of great people at the MLS, but getting involved in things usually requires you to go out of your way, sometimes repeatedly, to get involved in things, whether it being having drinks with some of the other teachers, or playing in an ensemble, or whatever else might happen. You will have a lot of time on your hands, often enough, and it's entirely up to you to fill it.
So, that's that for those questions. I could probably go on and on (as you have all seen me do, by now), but there is more to tell!
The weekend of St. Patrick's Day was a Blues exchange in Heidelberg, which was pretty fun, and I met some great people, and had a good time. I had started to get kind of down about my dancing, and my level of skill, but my wonderful friend Kendra helped me get some perspective, and felt better. After all, though I've been dancing for about five years, only about two and half of those years have been spent in serious pursuit, pushing myself to learn more, and I need to keep pushing myself to practice and learn and be better.
I also hung out with my friend Lorenz that weekend, since I didn't do any of the classes during the exchange, and had the opportunity to take a nap in the ruins of a castle. It was lovely.
On the following Thursday I made Damn Good Chicken (recipe provided by my once-again wonderful friend Kendra) for the teacher dinner group, and even though I doctored the recipe a bit and was uncertain about some of the quantities required for six people, it all came out very well.
And then. My friend Nicole came to visit me on Friday (Thank you again, Anette, for driving me to Frankfurt to pick her up!) and stayed till Sunday evening. It was the best weekend ever: her visit was everything I'd been missing over here as far as my friends are concerned. On the very first night we laughed so hard and so much that our faces hurt, and they didn't get a chance to recover all weekend. There was lots of hugging (which I miss so much over here) and joking and general foolishness that I don't really get here.
Center Stage is running well, and there is sooo much to do before our performances. I'll be in England for a large part of our Easter break, but I've met with the students all in various free hours, and I think they will do well.
One more opportunity arose on Thursday. Linda Johnke, who works as a set/costume designer at the Mannheim National Theater, called me up saying that one of the three actors working on a show at a smaller theater in Mannheim had dropped out, and that they were looking for another actor. I was, of course, thrilled by the opportunity to act, though there were a lot of time constraints which needed to be worked out. My job and Center Stage are, of course, my main priorities, but I met with the director today, and there should be no conflicts, so I will be performing in a short play called "This Lime Tree Bower." The show goes up the week after the Center Stage show (which I still have to title. >_> Oops), and is a very interesting little piece (it will only be just over an hour long).
Busy, busy bees!
Best wishes to all of you.
First off, Virginia Larson (who keeps all of us Rimbach folks up to date, and so much more) sent me an email the other day - okay, it was more like three weeks ago - and she had a couple questions, which I think I will answer here.
How would you rate your year?
To this question, I'm honestly not sure how to respond. I have had a lot of wonderful experiences here, and a few that weren't so wonderful, but it's hard to give a whole year some kind of rating. It's been a worthwhile experience on all fronts, and I wouldn't have traded it for anything else. So, I guess on a scale of 1 to 10, it ranks at "great, but incomplete?" :-P
What are the highs?
The highs...I'm really not certain, exactly. I have had a lot of experiences over here that have been truly wonderful. Getting to know my friend Jana and her family, and spending Christmas with them was a warm, welcoming feeling. Laughing about the absurdity of English with my conversation classes is definitely right up there. The opportunity to direct a play, and test myself in that role with Center Stage. Meeting and working with wonderful people at the MLS has been a high point, as well. Making Damn Good Chicken for six people - the first time I'd ever tried something more complex than stir fry for multiple people - and having it work out great was a real triumph, though of a small sort. Introducing my 13th graders to the lighter side of Shakespeare, and hearing them laugh so hard at Dogberry in Much Ado About Nothing. The list goes on.
the lows?
This is an easy one. Loneliness. Living alone after being in the dorms at Olaf is hard, and living in a very small town makes it harder still. I miss having company in my room, or just down the hall, or across campus. Frustrations with myself and my work have cropped up on occasion, and the mistakes I make in my teaching. Wanting to do and see so much here in Europe (I have standing invitations to both Turkey and Italy, and the funds to do neither), and knowing that I have to turn them down simply because I can't do everything. I know that sounds like a whiny "low" to have, because I still have those opportunities, but it's having the opportunity in front of you, and having to say no because despite only being here for a year, there's simply no way to do everything I want to.
Tips for Luke that would be of interest to all of us?
Ask questions. A lot of information gets posted on boards and the like at the school, boards whose purpose you will be told before school has gotten underway, and many of which will only occasionally be relevant for you. If your German is anything like mine, you may not understand all the details of the info you receive, and you will be reliant on your colleagues to clear up any misunderstandings, and make sure you know what you need to know.
Take the initiative, socially and in pretty much everything else. There are a lot of great people at the MLS, but getting involved in things usually requires you to go out of your way, sometimes repeatedly, to get involved in things, whether it being having drinks with some of the other teachers, or playing in an ensemble, or whatever else might happen. You will have a lot of time on your hands, often enough, and it's entirely up to you to fill it.
So, that's that for those questions. I could probably go on and on (as you have all seen me do, by now), but there is more to tell!
The weekend of St. Patrick's Day was a Blues exchange in Heidelberg, which was pretty fun, and I met some great people, and had a good time. I had started to get kind of down about my dancing, and my level of skill, but my wonderful friend Kendra helped me get some perspective, and felt better. After all, though I've been dancing for about five years, only about two and half of those years have been spent in serious pursuit, pushing myself to learn more, and I need to keep pushing myself to practice and learn and be better.
I also hung out with my friend Lorenz that weekend, since I didn't do any of the classes during the exchange, and had the opportunity to take a nap in the ruins of a castle. It was lovely.
On the following Thursday I made Damn Good Chicken (recipe provided by my once-again wonderful friend Kendra) for the teacher dinner group, and even though I doctored the recipe a bit and was uncertain about some of the quantities required for six people, it all came out very well.
And then. My friend Nicole came to visit me on Friday (Thank you again, Anette, for driving me to Frankfurt to pick her up!) and stayed till Sunday evening. It was the best weekend ever: her visit was everything I'd been missing over here as far as my friends are concerned. On the very first night we laughed so hard and so much that our faces hurt, and they didn't get a chance to recover all weekend. There was lots of hugging (which I miss so much over here) and joking and general foolishness that I don't really get here.
Center Stage is running well, and there is sooo much to do before our performances. I'll be in England for a large part of our Easter break, but I've met with the students all in various free hours, and I think they will do well.
One more opportunity arose on Thursday. Linda Johnke, who works as a set/costume designer at the Mannheim National Theater, called me up saying that one of the three actors working on a show at a smaller theater in Mannheim had dropped out, and that they were looking for another actor. I was, of course, thrilled by the opportunity to act, though there were a lot of time constraints which needed to be worked out. My job and Center Stage are, of course, my main priorities, but I met with the director today, and there should be no conflicts, so I will be performing in a short play called "This Lime Tree Bower." The show goes up the week after the Center Stage show (which I still have to title. >_> Oops), and is a very interesting little piece (it will only be just over an hour long).
Busy, busy bees!
Best wishes to all of you.
Monday, March 5, 2012
Tension and Release
Today's blog has nothing to do with the kind of tension and release I normally talk about. It's a common topic in dancing, especially Lindy Hop, when we talk about a lot of dynamic stretch and release in the swing out (the basic step) and the rest of the dance.
No, the tension I'm talking about here is the good ol' fashioned heart-in-throat tension that you feel when something really important and decisive is going on.
Some time ago, my closest friend over here, Jana, informed me that she had an audition at the Mannheim Theater Akademie, and wanted me to help her. I of course agreed, and we set about figuring out what to do. We looked through some possibilities, and she selected her monologues and we got to work. I didn't really get involved until closer to the end of the process, after she had the monologues memorized and was ready to start working more stylistically, though we talked about the identities of her characters early on as well.
One of the characters she chose was Phebe from As You Like It, a play I was just in last February, and really love. Thankfully, I learned a lot from my experience with the show, and from my director about playing Shakespeare, and was able to give her a lot of helpful feedback on her Phebe. She had a great grasp of the character, and by the time the audition rolled around, I felt it was her strongest monologue.
I went with her to the audition on Friday, which turned out to be about a 6 1/2 hour ordeal, and involved quite a bit of nerves. The aspiring actors were put together for a movement warmup/audition, then split up to sing and then to give their monologues, one at a time. After the first monologue, Jana emerged looking less than optimistic. The auditioners had interrupted her, something she was not used to, and gave her direction. She had taken that as a sign that her monologue was unsatisfactory, but I assured her it was normal, and that they were also looking for potential and how well the actors took direction, not just a polished performance. I also assured her that she would wow them with Phebe, and yelled "Knock 'em dead!" as she went off to deliver Phebe. She came back looking very happy, and told me that though they'd interrupted her again (as they had everyone else), they had also all been laughing as she continued with the monologue, in all the right places.
I could not have been nearly as nervous as she was when she went back to hear the final decision and to get feedback from the auditioners, but my heart was trying its level best. I was really on edge, and thought I heard her laugh from the room they were in, and eventually she came out with a smile on her face, but was then ushered into another room before I could find out what the deal was (though the smile was promising). Finally she came out and I said, "Well??" She odded her head, and ran towards me, and we both geeked out a little bit. She went to call her parents, and attempted to trick them by saying she had big news in a somber voice, but couldn't pull it off on account of being too excited. We celebrated with her parents and had a great night, hearing all about it.
I mostly share this with all of you because I am very proud of her, and very proud of the work that she did. But it's also to remember that even though my job here is teaching, sometimes you find yourself being apart of something really special that you'd have never expected.
Congratulations, Jana!
No, the tension I'm talking about here is the good ol' fashioned heart-in-throat tension that you feel when something really important and decisive is going on.
Some time ago, my closest friend over here, Jana, informed me that she had an audition at the Mannheim Theater Akademie, and wanted me to help her. I of course agreed, and we set about figuring out what to do. We looked through some possibilities, and she selected her monologues and we got to work. I didn't really get involved until closer to the end of the process, after she had the monologues memorized and was ready to start working more stylistically, though we talked about the identities of her characters early on as well.
One of the characters she chose was Phebe from As You Like It, a play I was just in last February, and really love. Thankfully, I learned a lot from my experience with the show, and from my director about playing Shakespeare, and was able to give her a lot of helpful feedback on her Phebe. She had a great grasp of the character, and by the time the audition rolled around, I felt it was her strongest monologue.
I went with her to the audition on Friday, which turned out to be about a 6 1/2 hour ordeal, and involved quite a bit of nerves. The aspiring actors were put together for a movement warmup/audition, then split up to sing and then to give their monologues, one at a time. After the first monologue, Jana emerged looking less than optimistic. The auditioners had interrupted her, something she was not used to, and gave her direction. She had taken that as a sign that her monologue was unsatisfactory, but I assured her it was normal, and that they were also looking for potential and how well the actors took direction, not just a polished performance. I also assured her that she would wow them with Phebe, and yelled "Knock 'em dead!" as she went off to deliver Phebe. She came back looking very happy, and told me that though they'd interrupted her again (as they had everyone else), they had also all been laughing as she continued with the monologue, in all the right places.
I could not have been nearly as nervous as she was when she went back to hear the final decision and to get feedback from the auditioners, but my heart was trying its level best. I was really on edge, and thought I heard her laugh from the room they were in, and eventually she came out with a smile on her face, but was then ushered into another room before I could find out what the deal was (though the smile was promising). Finally she came out and I said, "Well??" She odded her head, and ran towards me, and we both geeked out a little bit. She went to call her parents, and attempted to trick them by saying she had big news in a somber voice, but couldn't pull it off on account of being too excited. We celebrated with her parents and had a great night, hearing all about it.
I mostly share this with all of you because I am very proud of her, and very proud of the work that she did. But it's also to remember that even though my job here is teaching, sometimes you find yourself being apart of something really special that you'd have never expected.
Congratulations, Jana!
Sunday, February 26, 2012
Losses and Celebrations
Despite it only having been thirteen days since my last post, a lot has happened.
I did not mention in my last blog what my plans were for Karneval, which was last weekend. I had already received word some time ago that my friend Katie, another dancer from MN, was going to be in Cologne for the weekend of the 18th of February, and I had decided to go up to Cologne and see her. It was only afterward that we both remembered that this would be Karneval, and Cologne is essentially the place to be for Karneval celebrations in Germany. We forged on ahead, and despite some complicated arrangements regarding at whose place I was staying which night (with a friend of my friend, and then a German dancer that lives in Cologne as well), I ended up going up on Sunday, hanging out with Katie and her friend Christina (who is something of a Karneval Grinch), and had a great time. We saw the film The Artist, which I highly recommend; it's an exceptionally charming film, and very well crafted. We were at one point accosted by an Afghani man who wanted to ask me (hearing that I was American) why America was still in Afghanistan, and what we were doing there. He was not aggressive precisely, but very insistent, and as such the whole encounter was a little disconcerting; you never know in what direction such a discussion will go, under the circumstances. But he parted with us in a fairly friendly manner, so it was no problem.
We saw a couple parades while we were there, and although the parades themselves were nothing spectacular (the usual fare of bands of varying levels of skill, people in costume throwing candy, and various sponsors and organizations with floats), it was the spectators that really made the experience. Almost everyone I saw was dressed up in some way, costumes ranging from just a headband or hat to elaborate and fantastical. I loved the rampant silliness in the crowd. I had no costume, but after switching hosts to my friend Sanni, we improvised one with the supplies she had, and we went out to a Karneval party, which was also pretty fun.
Of course, the first part of the title tells you all that there's more to it, and there is. I also received the news on Sunday night that my grandfather had passed away. While surprising in its timing, of course, the actual idea of his passing did not come as too much of a shock, since his health had been deteriorating for a long time. He had suffered a number of strokes about seven years ago, and had been slowly sliding downhill ever since.
The loss of a family member under such circumstances is a bizarre thing. I am saddened by his death, and I will miss seeing him, yet in many ways the man I knew as my grandpa has been gone for years, and he had not recognized me or known who I was for probably three years. How to feel, under those circumstances? In many ways, I don't think that his loss will hit me until I am home and amongst my family members again. Being alone over here creates a real sense of distance, both physical and psychological, from the grieving process. I could not attend his visitation, or funeral, though I will certainly visit his grave when I return. And although his death saddened me, I was surrounded by an environment which he would have loved: the silliness and fun of Karneval. My grandfather had always loved to dress up, and to play tricks on other people, and I felt it was fitting that I was wearing his jacket during the weekend. He especially would have liked a camera I saw which squirted water into the face of the person who was trying to take a picture. I enjoyed myself during Karneval, in part despite my grandfather's death, and in part in honor of my grandfather's life.
The circumstances of his passing brings up an interesting question, however, on saying goodbye. I have not been able to attend the funeral of either of my grandfathers, as my Grandpa Heasty passed away while I was in college, just before finals, and since I had already taken almost a full week off school to see him before he died, I needed to be back at St. Olaf in order to make sure I was keeping somewhat abreast of my school work, little as I wanted to at that time. And yet, with my Grandpa Heasty, who passed away a little less than two years ago, I was able to speak with him one last time before he slipped into a coma in his last days. In that way I was able to say goodbye to him before he died, and I was also present at his burial.
With my Grandpa Hathway, it's such a different set of circumstances. As I said, in many ways, my grandpa had already been gone, for me, for a number of years before his body finally gave way. But there was no moment in which there was a sense of him being about to go, or a moment in which I had the foreknowledge of what was to come. He just gradually slipped away, being less and less present each time I saw him. It's such a strange and tragic way to lose someone; the gradual loss of all the things that make that person who they are. But even that knowledge is tainted with the evidence that some part of them still remains, even till the end.
Grandpa Hathway, who was always a tinkerer at heart, and was very mechanically minded, and when he was in the first nursing home he stayed in (which he was not happy in, as no one there knew ASL, and therefore he couldn't speak with anyone; we eventually managed to find a home where all the staff were required to know ASL, and he was significantly happier there) he escaped relatively frequently; he would watch the nurses and caretakers when they unlocked doors, and remember the number codes, or one time picked up a caretaker's keys, examining them one by one, and later taking the same keys, having already figured out which key worked for which doors.
It's a very strange feeling, and one I'm not sure I wholly understand. Funerals and visitations are a necessity for most of us; it's a time and a place to share in our grief, to say goodbye, to gain some closure in the loss of someone close to you. Yet when we have all been mourning the loss of my grandfather a little bit each day, his death is more of a time for us to express that grief publicly, and to allow others to share in it. However, in true Hathway spirit, we also celebrate one of the most remembered and missed aspects of my grandfather's life: his humor. My grandfather was a trickster, and I feel secure in the knowledge that more than a few angels will be wondering where they misplaced their harps, or when their robes were dyed pink.
Rest in Peace, Grandpa Jack.
I did not mention in my last blog what my plans were for Karneval, which was last weekend. I had already received word some time ago that my friend Katie, another dancer from MN, was going to be in Cologne for the weekend of the 18th of February, and I had decided to go up to Cologne and see her. It was only afterward that we both remembered that this would be Karneval, and Cologne is essentially the place to be for Karneval celebrations in Germany. We forged on ahead, and despite some complicated arrangements regarding at whose place I was staying which night (with a friend of my friend, and then a German dancer that lives in Cologne as well), I ended up going up on Sunday, hanging out with Katie and her friend Christina (who is something of a Karneval Grinch), and had a great time. We saw the film The Artist, which I highly recommend; it's an exceptionally charming film, and very well crafted. We were at one point accosted by an Afghani man who wanted to ask me (hearing that I was American) why America was still in Afghanistan, and what we were doing there. He was not aggressive precisely, but very insistent, and as such the whole encounter was a little disconcerting; you never know in what direction such a discussion will go, under the circumstances. But he parted with us in a fairly friendly manner, so it was no problem.
We saw a couple parades while we were there, and although the parades themselves were nothing spectacular (the usual fare of bands of varying levels of skill, people in costume throwing candy, and various sponsors and organizations with floats), it was the spectators that really made the experience. Almost everyone I saw was dressed up in some way, costumes ranging from just a headband or hat to elaborate and fantastical. I loved the rampant silliness in the crowd. I had no costume, but after switching hosts to my friend Sanni, we improvised one with the supplies she had, and we went out to a Karneval party, which was also pretty fun.
Of course, the first part of the title tells you all that there's more to it, and there is. I also received the news on Sunday night that my grandfather had passed away. While surprising in its timing, of course, the actual idea of his passing did not come as too much of a shock, since his health had been deteriorating for a long time. He had suffered a number of strokes about seven years ago, and had been slowly sliding downhill ever since.
The loss of a family member under such circumstances is a bizarre thing. I am saddened by his death, and I will miss seeing him, yet in many ways the man I knew as my grandpa has been gone for years, and he had not recognized me or known who I was for probably three years. How to feel, under those circumstances? In many ways, I don't think that his loss will hit me until I am home and amongst my family members again. Being alone over here creates a real sense of distance, both physical and psychological, from the grieving process. I could not attend his visitation, or funeral, though I will certainly visit his grave when I return. And although his death saddened me, I was surrounded by an environment which he would have loved: the silliness and fun of Karneval. My grandfather had always loved to dress up, and to play tricks on other people, and I felt it was fitting that I was wearing his jacket during the weekend. He especially would have liked a camera I saw which squirted water into the face of the person who was trying to take a picture. I enjoyed myself during Karneval, in part despite my grandfather's death, and in part in honor of my grandfather's life.
The circumstances of his passing brings up an interesting question, however, on saying goodbye. I have not been able to attend the funeral of either of my grandfathers, as my Grandpa Heasty passed away while I was in college, just before finals, and since I had already taken almost a full week off school to see him before he died, I needed to be back at St. Olaf in order to make sure I was keeping somewhat abreast of my school work, little as I wanted to at that time. And yet, with my Grandpa Heasty, who passed away a little less than two years ago, I was able to speak with him one last time before he slipped into a coma in his last days. In that way I was able to say goodbye to him before he died, and I was also present at his burial.
With my Grandpa Hathway, it's such a different set of circumstances. As I said, in many ways, my grandpa had already been gone, for me, for a number of years before his body finally gave way. But there was no moment in which there was a sense of him being about to go, or a moment in which I had the foreknowledge of what was to come. He just gradually slipped away, being less and less present each time I saw him. It's such a strange and tragic way to lose someone; the gradual loss of all the things that make that person who they are. But even that knowledge is tainted with the evidence that some part of them still remains, even till the end.
Grandpa Hathway, who was always a tinkerer at heart, and was very mechanically minded, and when he was in the first nursing home he stayed in (which he was not happy in, as no one there knew ASL, and therefore he couldn't speak with anyone; we eventually managed to find a home where all the staff were required to know ASL, and he was significantly happier there) he escaped relatively frequently; he would watch the nurses and caretakers when they unlocked doors, and remember the number codes, or one time picked up a caretaker's keys, examining them one by one, and later taking the same keys, having already figured out which key worked for which doors.
It's a very strange feeling, and one I'm not sure I wholly understand. Funerals and visitations are a necessity for most of us; it's a time and a place to share in our grief, to say goodbye, to gain some closure in the loss of someone close to you. Yet when we have all been mourning the loss of my grandfather a little bit each day, his death is more of a time for us to express that grief publicly, and to allow others to share in it. However, in true Hathway spirit, we also celebrate one of the most remembered and missed aspects of my grandfather's life: his humor. My grandfather was a trickster, and I feel secure in the knowledge that more than a few angels will be wondering where they misplaced their harps, or when their robes were dyed pink.
Rest in Peace, Grandpa Jack.
Monday, February 13, 2012
The Doldrums
So, it's official. I've hit the doldrums, at least temporarily.
For those of you who don't know, the doldrums are an area of water (evidently near parts of the equator) where the pressure and winds and tides are exactly wrong for nautical navigation. The winds can completely disappear, leaving the water without any swell or tide, and ships can be stranded for days, even weeks. The conditions in the doldrums can also lead to more severe weather than other parts of the open sea, making it a less than ideal place for a sailing vessel.
Now, since I have not recently taken up sailing, nor am I anywhere near the equator, I'm sure you all understand that I'm speaking metaphorically.
I'm not really sure what it is in particular, though it's almost certainly a combination of multiple factors, and I imagine most of the guest teachers experienced something similar. I just feel sort of listless, puttering about with no direction.
In all honesty, I should be feeling pretty good. I paid my deposit for Herrang Swing Camp, the biggest dance event in the world, so it's certain that I'll be going there in July. I went to two parties over the weekend, and had fun at both. The first was my favorite bartender's 40th birthday, at his pub, and there was a band, and whatnot. I also met another American there, a fellow named Victor who has been living here since 1988. He was a hoot, and we got along great. That one went pretty late. The other was a housewarming party for a colleague who just moved into a new (and very nice) apartment. It was fun, as well, though the conversations were tough; most of the people spoke over top of each other, making it night impossible for me to understand anything most of the night. We did all have particular fun at one point when our hosts had to go out briefly to pick something up: we rearranged the living/dining room, so that the table and couches were in the opposite positions they had been when our hosts left. Their reactions were pretty great when they returned. I also went on a nice walk to a nearby village called Albersbach with another colleague of mine, on a really beautiful day.
So, in short, I am still having fun, and good times, but I'm also just...blah, sometimes.
One thing I know is contributing to that is that I made some rather large attendance mistakes with my 11th grade dance class, so that their report cards have to be altered, which makes rather a lot of work for the administration (unfortunately, I cannot fix that myself). So I feel like a fool, or the rookie that screws up what is arguably the easiest part of the job. So that both contributes to, and is fed by, this listlessness I've been feeling.
The main part of it, most likely, is simply the let down of "after Olaf" catching up to me. At Olaf there was so much going on, all the time, and here I'm on my own so often. I think it's more or less something of an involvement-withdrawal. I'm pretty involved here, and try to keep that up, but it's still a pretty big difference. There are things I can, and want to keep doing, but sometimes keeping my forward momentum going is tough. It's a temporary funk, and honestly, I feel better now than I did over the last four days or so, but it's still just a sort of background feeling.
As for what else is going on, I'm finishing casting my actors in Center Stage, and we will begin rehearsing our sketches (finally!) this week. I am looking forward to that, and I think it'll be a good show, all things considered. There are some interesting logistical details to be worked out, since the room we'll be playing in has four large pillars in it, but we'll figure it out.
My apologies for the long space between blogs. I will hopefully keep them more frequent from now on.
All the best.
For those of you who don't know, the doldrums are an area of water (evidently near parts of the equator) where the pressure and winds and tides are exactly wrong for nautical navigation. The winds can completely disappear, leaving the water without any swell or tide, and ships can be stranded for days, even weeks. The conditions in the doldrums can also lead to more severe weather than other parts of the open sea, making it a less than ideal place for a sailing vessel.
Now, since I have not recently taken up sailing, nor am I anywhere near the equator, I'm sure you all understand that I'm speaking metaphorically.
I'm not really sure what it is in particular, though it's almost certainly a combination of multiple factors, and I imagine most of the guest teachers experienced something similar. I just feel sort of listless, puttering about with no direction.
In all honesty, I should be feeling pretty good. I paid my deposit for Herrang Swing Camp, the biggest dance event in the world, so it's certain that I'll be going there in July. I went to two parties over the weekend, and had fun at both. The first was my favorite bartender's 40th birthday, at his pub, and there was a band, and whatnot. I also met another American there, a fellow named Victor who has been living here since 1988. He was a hoot, and we got along great. That one went pretty late. The other was a housewarming party for a colleague who just moved into a new (and very nice) apartment. It was fun, as well, though the conversations were tough; most of the people spoke over top of each other, making it night impossible for me to understand anything most of the night. We did all have particular fun at one point when our hosts had to go out briefly to pick something up: we rearranged the living/dining room, so that the table and couches were in the opposite positions they had been when our hosts left. Their reactions were pretty great when they returned. I also went on a nice walk to a nearby village called Albersbach with another colleague of mine, on a really beautiful day.
So, in short, I am still having fun, and good times, but I'm also just...blah, sometimes.
One thing I know is contributing to that is that I made some rather large attendance mistakes with my 11th grade dance class, so that their report cards have to be altered, which makes rather a lot of work for the administration (unfortunately, I cannot fix that myself). So I feel like a fool, or the rookie that screws up what is arguably the easiest part of the job. So that both contributes to, and is fed by, this listlessness I've been feeling.
The main part of it, most likely, is simply the let down of "after Olaf" catching up to me. At Olaf there was so much going on, all the time, and here I'm on my own so often. I think it's more or less something of an involvement-withdrawal. I'm pretty involved here, and try to keep that up, but it's still a pretty big difference. There are things I can, and want to keep doing, but sometimes keeping my forward momentum going is tough. It's a temporary funk, and honestly, I feel better now than I did over the last four days or so, but it's still just a sort of background feeling.
As for what else is going on, I'm finishing casting my actors in Center Stage, and we will begin rehearsing our sketches (finally!) this week. I am looking forward to that, and I think it'll be a good show, all things considered. There are some interesting logistical details to be worked out, since the room we'll be playing in has four large pillars in it, but we'll figure it out.
My apologies for the long space between blogs. I will hopefully keep them more frequent from now on.
All the best.
Friday, January 13, 2012
Back to Work!
So, I had a wonderful last week or so of break, beginning with New Year's, and following up with a trip to Copenhagen to visit a couple of exchange students who had lived in Wisconsin for a year.
New Year's here was great. I was at my fellow teacher Anette's apartment, and met a bunch of her friends (a number of whom were also teachers, though not all), and we had raclette, which is (I believe) a Swiss thing. We each had our own little individual frying pan things, and we put food in and put them into a central stove-type-thing. It was different, but the food tasted good, so no complaints here. I got along really well with Anette's friends, especially a fellow named Rupert, and another teacher named Maria, who immediately after learning I was a native English speaker said, "Oh! I have to show you this." And promptly wrote something on a piece of paper. She then explained that her students had to do a presentation on Central Park, and that one had started the presentation with the following sentence:
"Central Park is a large pubic park in New York City."
I cracked up as soon as I saw the sentence. I love the little mistakes we all make with foreign languages ^_^
At midnight, of course, we all went outside, and that was something I have never witnessed before. Anette lives near a very large public space, some kind of park or something. But it's large, and flat, and you can see a fairly long ways. And every last inch of that space was covered with smoke from fireworks.
They were everywhere. I don't think there was a single group of people there without at least one box of fireworks, and for the Americans reading, I mean the kind of box which is about a 1'x8", and about 8" tall, firing something like a dozen projectiles into the sky. And everyone was out on the street, firing them all off. It was insane. I thought Americans were the crazy ones when it came to things that went boom, but I saw Germans placing these boxes, lighting them, and taking a single step backward to watch them go off. I am somewhat shocked I didn't see anybody blown up or burnt while we were out there. They were only a few feet from cars in other instances. For a fellow raised by a firefighter, it was quite a spectacle. I've seen some great fireworks displays in the States, but nothing like the free-for-all that New Year's Eve brings to Germany.
Copenhagen was...amazing. It was great to see Tine again, who lived in Janesville for a year waaaaaaay back when - about 13 years ago, now. We had a ton of fun together, and she and Anette seemed to get along very well, too.
Copenhagen itself is a beautiful city. We didn't make a lot of concrete plans, but we walked around the city a lot, and saw as much of the city by foot as we could. There are simply too many things to tell you about the city, and so I will include a couple of links. These are the albums of pictures I took while we were in Copenhagen.
New Year's here was great. I was at my fellow teacher Anette's apartment, and met a bunch of her friends (a number of whom were also teachers, though not all), and we had raclette, which is (I believe) a Swiss thing. We each had our own little individual frying pan things, and we put food in and put them into a central stove-type-thing. It was different, but the food tasted good, so no complaints here. I got along really well with Anette's friends, especially a fellow named Rupert, and another teacher named Maria, who immediately after learning I was a native English speaker said, "Oh! I have to show you this." And promptly wrote something on a piece of paper. She then explained that her students had to do a presentation on Central Park, and that one had started the presentation with the following sentence:
"Central Park is a large pubic park in New York City."
I cracked up as soon as I saw the sentence. I love the little mistakes we all make with foreign languages ^_^
At midnight, of course, we all went outside, and that was something I have never witnessed before. Anette lives near a very large public space, some kind of park or something. But it's large, and flat, and you can see a fairly long ways. And every last inch of that space was covered with smoke from fireworks.
They were everywhere. I don't think there was a single group of people there without at least one box of fireworks, and for the Americans reading, I mean the kind of box which is about a 1'x8", and about 8" tall, firing something like a dozen projectiles into the sky. And everyone was out on the street, firing them all off. It was insane. I thought Americans were the crazy ones when it came to things that went boom, but I saw Germans placing these boxes, lighting them, and taking a single step backward to watch them go off. I am somewhat shocked I didn't see anybody blown up or burnt while we were out there. They were only a few feet from cars in other instances. For a fellow raised by a firefighter, it was quite a spectacle. I've seen some great fireworks displays in the States, but nothing like the free-for-all that New Year's Eve brings to Germany.
Copenhagen was...amazing. It was great to see Tine again, who lived in Janesville for a year waaaaaaay back when - about 13 years ago, now. We had a ton of fun together, and she and Anette seemed to get along very well, too.
Copenhagen itself is a beautiful city. We didn't make a lot of concrete plans, but we walked around the city a lot, and saw as much of the city by foot as we could. There are simply too many things to tell you about the city, and so I will include a couple of links. These are the albums of pictures I took while we were in Copenhagen.
Copenhagen 1
Copenhagen 2
If they don't work, I'll sort them out, but I hope you can all see some of the pictures. It was really an amazing trip.
School has, of course, started again, and I'm frantically finishing the tests I need to have finished (I was not so...diligent over break as I perhaps ought to have been) in order to input the students' grades next week.
On a lighter note, however, a good friend of mine from St. Olaf has evidently been traveling around a bit over here, and is arriving tomorrow for a visit. She'll stick around till Tuesday, and while I unfortunately could not find any dancing for us over the weekend, I imagine we'll figure something out.
All the best to all of you, and my wishes for a great year.
Copenhagen 2
If they don't work, I'll sort them out, but I hope you can all see some of the pictures. It was really an amazing trip.
School has, of course, started again, and I'm frantically finishing the tests I need to have finished (I was not so...diligent over break as I perhaps ought to have been) in order to input the students' grades next week.
On a lighter note, however, a good friend of mine from St. Olaf has evidently been traveling around a bit over here, and is arriving tomorrow for a visit. She'll stick around till Tuesday, and while I unfortunately could not find any dancing for us over the weekend, I imagine we'll figure something out.
All the best to all of you, and my wishes for a great year.
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