What is this "sleep" of which you speak?

Philladelphia: home of the Eagles, the Phillies, and the
world’s best cheese steaks.

But no longer home of the world’s most dedicated fans.  That title definitely belongs to Oldenburg.

Last week, I assumed that Oldenburg basketball fans could not possibly be crazier than Philly fans. No way!!  We had Eagles Court.  We threw bottles at Aerosmith.  Our Governor called our football team “wussies” and was practically impeached. 

Nobody does crazy like we do crazy.

That’s what I thought, but I will admit (on this one occasion) that I was wrong. 

Oldenburg basketball fans are definitely crazier. 

No!  Wait!  Let me explain!!

This is a compliment people; we Philadelphians are darn proud of our insanity and, though we have been proud to hold the title “World’s Craziest Fan Base”, we now reverently bestow it upon
Oldenburg.

Oldenburg game day is AWESOME.  These people come with face paint.  They come with jerseys.  They come with scarves.  They come with hair dye.  They come with DRUMS.  They come with blue and yellow socks for Pete’s sake.

In Oldenburg, “team spirit” knows no bounds.

As such, it will surprise absolutely nobody that I fit right in.  Say “Hallo” to the newest EWE Baskets fan. 

Crazy socks and all.

OK, enough with the culture:  time to hit the books.  Or just run into a wall.  It all depends on how much sense you’re making out of the books.

Other than German class, school was relatively uneventful last week.  On Monday, we talked about the Baroque era, and a poem by Martin Opitz (There’s a media player that will read it for you here).  The Baroque thing I understood.  The poem? Not so much.

To be honest though, people seemed fairly impressed that I even tried to make sense of it.

On Thursday we continued the discussion of the poem, and were told to rewrite it from a feminine perspective.  We were asked to present our poems to the class, and my group wanted me to read ours aloud.

Now, I don’t know about the rest of the world, but I have a thing about reading out loud things that I do not actually understand.  When I asked what our poem was about I was told, and I quote:

“It’s not bad.  A little explicit maybe, but really OK.”

…

……….

Yeah.  I didn’t read the poem.
Hey, it could have been worse; they could’ve easily told me it was about singing birds and sunflowers
or something, and I would have been none the wiser.  Thank goodness for kind classmates.

Now to the many reasons as to why my blog posting is a bit late this week:  I have had one heck of a
weekend!!!!!!!!

Friday night I went to a friend’s house and had “raclette”.  Essentially, it’s the German version of Fondue, but cooler.  Like Fondue, everyone gets to choose what they want to eat, but unlike Fondue, Raclette does not revolve around cheese and meat (though there is some of that as well).  With Raclette, there are tons of different types not only of cheese and meat, but of vegetables, bread, and even some fruit.  Everyone gets their own little pan and wooden spatula, both of which are about palm sized.  In the center of the table, within easy reach of all, is a… well… hmm.  It’s kind of hard to describe…

Oh just look at the picture below.

This photo, by the way, isn't mine.  I was having so much fun I completely forgot I had even brought my camera.  Anyway, in between the two metal boards there’s a miniature oven, and that is where you place your food to cook. 

You can make just about anything with Raclette; miniature pizzas, bacon wrap things, grilled vegetables, grilled cheese.  In any case, it all boils down to one word:

HolyMolyWasThatDelicious.

All through the evening we talked, chatted, and generally had a blast.  I was even able to converse about politics, albeit in very halting, fractured sentences.  After dinner and desert-- another delicious concoction, this time with whipped cream and raspberries— we watched some of the Eurovision Contest, which is super popular here.

The contest is essentially “American Idol”, but for all of Europe.  Every country chooses a group/artist to sing at the Contest and represent them.  I’m not really sure how the elimination/selection process works, but whoever ends up winning, their nation gets to host the next Eurovision contest.  Germany won last year, and is hosting this year’s contest at a soccer stadium in Dusseldorf.  The stadium holds a decent number of people; about 36,000.

And every single ticket has already been sold.

Like I said, it’s pretty popular.

To continue, Germany’s candidate this year is Lena.  Nope.  Just Lena.  She’s only about 19 years old, but she won last year’s contest and is going again this year to sing "Taken by a Stranger".

No.  Don’t keep reading until you watch the video.

“Taken” is pretty good I think, and so is the album she’s got on Amazon.

I promise I’ll stop hyper linking now.  I just get a little overexcited when I figure
out how to use technology...

To sum up:  Lena is really good, the song she’s singing for Eurovision is really good, and Germany is really excited for the contest (held in May I think).

Friday was a blast (like I said), and Saturday I had a soccer game with my team.  We lost 2 to
nothing.  I was the goalkeeper.  

I know, not exactly a fantastic debut.  

I did, however, block an overhead shot (top right corner, parried it over.  Very difficult when you’re as short as I am), and a breakaway play in which I literally got stabbed in the back—by someone’s toe.

OK, you can stop smiling now; it’s really not that entertaining; it bloody well hurt. 

I was pretty tired after the game, but caught up with some friends in the city later on anyway.  I
got home really late (or really early, depending on how you look at it), and was too tired on Sunday to write anything worthy of being posted. 

There you go: excuse for late paper?

Too. Much. Fun.

I must now repeat what I said before: much as I enjoy keeping in touch with everyone, I am not in Germany simply to write funny stories back to y’all.

Though, the habit has proved quite therapeutic.  Which reminds me:

Mom, Dad, you couldn’t have named my sister something other than “Morgan”??  No offense intended, it’s just… well…

I now have one word with three meanings!! 

For those of you who don’t know, “Morgen” is the word for both “tomorrow” and “morning” in German. 

It also happens to be the name of my little sister.  Oh no, it’s not at all confusing or anything.

My nose just grew about 4 feet long.  Suffice it to say that, once again, Senor Padilla’s advice proved true.  Due to several embarrassing instances, I am always sure to ask “Morgan my sister? Or Morgen as in Tuesday? Or Morgen as in four hours ago? 

Now to this week’s agenda: watch more TV, eat Doulna, and figure out why the heck the post office is holding my packages hostage.

Point number one:  I mentioned earlier that I had dinner at a friend’s house on Friday, but what I didn’t mention was that she has a twin sister who studied in Washington last year.   She asked me how everything was going and how I was coping with the language, and she seemed very surprised that I wasn’t watching more TV.

Really, with the look she gave me… I’ve never felt so guilty about not watching TV in my life!

But she was right; watching TV is actually a fantastic way to improve my listening skills.  Remember “supersonic speed”?? Yeah, that’s how fast people on TV talk; you don’t realize it though, until McDreamy (or was it McSteamy???) starts talking in German.

But then again, those of you who can keep those characters straight probably aren’t paying attention to the dialogue anyway…

Point number two:  Doulna is the Turkish version of a Gyro, but WAY tastier.  It is one of the many awesome things that Germany has to offer, but the US does not.  

And after a month here, I still haven't eaten any.  Really, where are my priorities these days??

I wonder if they’ll figure out a way to commute between Germany and the US in the future; I’d looooove some Doulna for lunch, but I’m really missing those Saturday morning bagels from RJs...

Last point:  Seeing as I flew into Amsterdam, Holland and then took a train to Germany, the number of bags I could take with me across the pond was basically cut in half.  After I had packed my suitcase and carry-ons, I packed a few boxes to send via the post.  These were rush shipped about a week after I arrived in Germany, which means that I should have had them last week.  At the latest.

Yeah, I got one package on Saturday.  It was the last package my parents shipped: 3
shirts, a pair of shorts, a pair of socks, a bag, and McKay.

Now, as relieved as I am to see McKay again (how did I ever live without him!), I would really love to receive that big package of clothing  so I could mix up my wardrobe a bit.

C’mon.  If I’m concerned about my wardrobe (and I have no fashion sense to speak of), then you know it’s bad. 

Oye, post office:  aren’t you going to give me a list of demands or something??

On the agenda for this weekend?  Another Baskets game (YEAH!!), physics (NOO!!), and some stuff I haven’t planned yet.  That’s all for now.

Over and out,
Shannon