Meeting Jesus

So life has been a smidgen stressful lately due to causes partly my own and partly due to the financial crisis. Long story short, I found myself without a source of income for my internship at the end of February. Confident (or foolishly thinking) that I would be able to find free-lance English work on the side, I volunteered to remain at UBA so I could finish my project and publish two posters for international conventions.

And the English jobs did pop up quickly, only to fall-through one by one frustrating week after frustrating week. I've gotten very good at making my euro stretch and making the cheapest meals imaginable (I'm eating lentils and potatoes as I write this) but there was one thing that I relied heavily on: my bike. Riding my bike all around Berlin allows me to not have to pay for the U-bahn, ever. And while 2,10 might not seem like much, that's more than enough for 2 loaves of bread.

This Tuesday I was feeling particualrly low as my business English student that I thought was a gaurentee, said he had to cancel because he didn't have the money. To top it off I got a flat tire on the way to work; the same tire, for the third time. Not wanting to spend three and a half loaves of bread to take my bike on the S-bahn (you have to buy a ticket for the bike too) and since it was nice out, I decided to walk my broken bike home. I have a tire patch kit, so I could fix it and be back in business the next day.

So there I was, disheartened, pushing my pathetic little bicycle 10 km from UBA to my place in Wedding. I was about 6 km there when I passed a man talking on his cell phone. It sounded like he said something to me, and maybe he did, but I wasn't going to stop since it sounded akin to a cat call. But then my bike stops me. I look down and the rubber band thing that seems to serve no purpose other than cause problems that is also shoved inside the tire along with the innertube, had fallen out in some sections and managed to wrap itself around the gear thingy of the back tire. So much so that the tire would no longer turn. At this point I was pretty numb to crap happening in life, so I didn't throw a temper tantrum like I would if this were just one bad day in a sea of relatively normal ones.

What happened next was nothing out of the ordinary. The guy had ended his cell phone call, and walked over to me, asking if my bike was broken. Well, obviously. Ok, I didn't say that, I said 'Wie, bitte?' a lot. Which is 'What?' in English because his German was very hard to understand through his thick accent which I soon learned was Palestinian. Of course next came what always comes next when I have trouble understanding people: the guess my nationality game. Rarely does anyone guess American on the first try. I don't know why this is, and I'm not complaining. I like that I blend in. I think this guy guessed German, Polish and English before I told him I was American. So then he starts speaking English. Or attempting too. That was fun. He definitely wins the 'worst English I've heard' award. It would have been easier to communicate in German. But no, this guy insisted on speaking Deutschlish (combination of the two). He was telling me how much he would like to help me. Saying I should leave my bike locked up at his shop (he's a car mechanic) and he could give me a ride home...but only if I wasn't afraid. He could probably read the look of skeptism on my face (not that I was trying to hide it). But my skeptism came with good reason since he doesn't know me and is probaly somewhere in the neighborhood of 40. Plus he was obviously trying to impress me by talking about his big appartment and telling me I have a beautiful name. He said he could fix my bike for me, and I could come get it the next day. Well, I had no money to give this guy and every intent to fix it myself. So I told him that. And he insisted that I didn't have to pay, he just wanted to help.

If I could have pushed my bike, I would have simply walked away. But since the back tire wouldn't move anyway, and I was tired from walking 6km already plus the 3 or so I had to walk in the morning after my tire went flat, I thought, 'what else can I do?' and accepted his offer. It was only a short way home. Right before we reached my street he asked if I had eaten yet (it was about 7:30 pm). I sighed and said 'no'. I was hesitant because I wanted to get away from him as soon as possible simply because the less time one spends alone with a strange man the better, but I was also sick at the thought of going home and eating rice for the 3rd meal in a row. But then he says, 'I get you some chicken. You like chicken? You take it with you and eat at home.' and he pulls up to a place not far from my house. I was immediately relieved. I thought his asking if I had eaten was his ploy to get me to go to dinner and spend more time with him. But no, he simply pulled over to the side of the road, left the keys in the car and joked 'don't steal my car' before running in to buy a meal to go.

And as I sat in the car waiting for him to return, with aching feet and an empty stomach, I thought to myself; this is Jesus. I am meeting Jesus through this middle-aged Palestinian car mechanic who barely speaks English. I've taught campers every summer about how we experience God the most through other people. And it's not that I don't believe that, I do. It's just that unfortunately, this world we live in isn't full of people who want to help you without expecting something in return.

He dropped me off around the corner and went home to eat my feast.

I wish this was the nice happy ending, but unfortunately, my bike got stolen from outside his shop that night. So now I have no bike. But he apologized profusely and offered to buy me a new one, so I believe that Jesus didn't steal my bike.

As American as Apple Pie

We had a Christmas office party on Wednesday to which everyone brought something they either bought or made. I figured I'd make something that was typically american. And apple pie was the frist thing I could think of. Although apple pies came from the English (and the Dutch had a version as well) it's as close as I could get without just bringing in corn. But the beautiful thing about America is that everything is easy. If you wish to make a pie you can simply go to your grocers (that is typically opened later than 8pm) freezer and get the frozen crust that come in a handy aluminum pie pan. (I originally wrote 'tin', but an aluminum pie tin doesn't make sense.) Thanks to Toytown the English speakers in Germany forum, I was aware of the difficulties I was about to face. There were a few forum discussions about pie crusts and other differences between baking ingredients here and the states. It's hard to ask Germans about these differences because at work yesterday we were talking about cooking and I said "There's no brown sugar in Germany" and I got the 'sure there is' response. I suppose they're right too, it may be brown sugar, but it's certainly not the same as the american stuff. But that's beside the point; there's no brown sugar in apple pie (however, there is in apple crisp). From Toytown I knew I would not find frozen pie crusts anywhere. I also knew that it would very difficult to find (or expensive to buy at KaDeWe) both a pie pan and crisco. I had found an recipie online that looked doable enough. I'd link it for you, but I don't remember which website I got it from. I needed one that didn't take ice water because we have no freezer so I had no way of getting ice. The one I found called for cool but not cold water, so I was good to go. I also needed Crisco, but I knew what to look for as a German equivalent (Biskin) and all-purpose flour (which I read is Mehl 405 in Germany).

I had stayed at work a little late and had to go pick up my bike from the shop. (My tire is fixed!) I stopped by Kaisers at first because it's pretty big and should have had Biskin according to Toytown. They didn't, of course but I still needed a pie pan, so I thought I was inevitably going to have to stop at KaDeWe, which according to the website closed at 8. It was 7. I didn't want to have to buy everything there because things would be cheaper elsewhere and I thought there was a possibilty that Woolworths would have pie pans. They have all sorts of different bunt cake and tart pans, but no pie pans. So I was hurrying to Gesundbrunnen because I was trying to get on the S-bahn before my two hours expired from coming home from work and the KaDeWe was closing soon, when I saw a sign from Kaufland. I had read about this place too. This is basically like a Giant or a Wegmanns or any other super food store. I knew I would be pushing it time-wise, and if I were smart I would have gone to KaDeWe and came back to this place since I think it was open later, but I didn't care, and I went investigating. After a long period of stupidly staring and wandering through the butter/margarine aisle, I finally found a small block of Biskin, and they also had pans that were generally pie shaped, so I figured they would do since I knew via Toytown that American pie pans were €22 at KaDeWe and that just wasn't worth it.

Victoriously, I returned home to make my pie. The directions in making a pie crust that I found had two places where they said something along the lines of 'DO NOT touch touch the shortening with your hands, make sure you touch it only with the flour because otherwise the heat from your hands will melt the shortening' and 'DO NOT exsessively knead the dough like you would bread'. I'm pretty sure I did both of these things. Not intentionally, I just wasn't sure how not to. I say this because it was supposed to 'look like peas' at one point and it never really did and it was supposed to actually hold together in a nice ball and it never really did that either. But, gosh darn it, it somehow worked. In the end, it rolled out rather successfully and turned into a delicious pie. I only wish I had a slice of American cheese to put ontop of it.

From Sea to Shining Sea

So a lot has happened since November 14th (like Ashley's birthday - Happy Birthday) and my surprise trip to America. It felt good to be back, even if it was only for a week. I ate so much junk that my digestive trac is still in the process of forgiving me. But it was good, American junk. The most important part of the trip (not relating to seeing people) was that Lehigh finally beat Lafayette. My excitement was slighty masked by the fact that I couldn't feel my feet due to the cold. But, such is life.

Immediately after my return to the Fatherland, I left to go to Bad Saarow (which is somewhere not in Berlin) for the practice weekend retreat thing with the Blasorchester. Think band camp without all of the wierd tradition stuff and more ping pong, but an equal amount of beverage consumption. It was a lot of fun. I talked to a lot of new people and may have even come out of it with a swimming partner. On the way back on Sunday, those that wanted to participate went to this indoor/outdoor heated pool of salt water. When we were outside in the cold air, but warm water, it reminded me of the hot spring Ashley took me to when I visited her in Alaska. It was very relaxing.

Then the next day (last Monday) I had to move after work. So there I was moving to a new apartment with practically no clean clothes. But the move went well. Monika and Dieter drove me and my stuff, and they brought a box and a couple of bags to help me fit everything into some sort of transport device. Living with more people is so much nicer. And the apartment isn't as old and crappy. My room is no longer big enough to do a cartwheel in, but it's bigger than the one I had in college on Polk Street (I think, I've never been good with spacial relations). And, I have a bed now. No more plain mattress on the floor for this girl. Mila, the kitten is adorable and everyone is really nice and asks a lot of 'how is it in America?' type questions. Fun Fact: Apparently Germans (or at least the ones I live with) don't just stick potatoes in the oven and then eat them skins and all (a la baked potatoes). Because I did that this weekend and they all commented on how they had never seen that before. The more you know. This is rushed and not as entertaining as usual because I'm hungry, and I get to go home now. One bad thing about the new place is we haven't gotten the internet figured out yet. So this weekend I watched an embarassing amount of Dawson's Creek on DVD.

Erdnuss

So I was eating peanuts with Tanja, this lady I work with, in the break room when she decided to tell me about this idea she had.

Tanja (paraphrased and translated into English): I try this sometimes, watch. After you get the peanuts out of the shell, you add a little salt while they're in your hand, and then the peanuts taste salty.

I proceeded to tell her all about how, in America, you can buy peanuts with salted shells.

She was amazed.

America once again, has trimuphed.

Impulse Buy

Imagine this, you're standing in line at the grocery store, getting ready to check out. The person in front of you has a cart overflowing with various goods, so, like most people, you scan the headlines of the magazines, wondering if there could be any truth to the claim that some lady in Tennessee birthed a half man half monkey. When suddenly, you realize 'Oh man, I almost forgot. I need a new toothbrush' or 'My flashlight could use new batteries.' It's a good thing we have crafty business men and women in our country that know the importance of product placement. The checkout line self is teeming with things the average american might realize they need upon a simple reminder. Yesterday I was in the grocery store buying mushrooms on my way home from work. The line was rather long, so I looked at the impulse buy shelf. It's a good thing I did, because it reminded me that I had forgotten to buy ... an individual serving of Jägermeister, or a small bottle of some sort of whiskey. Welcome to Germany, where Jägermeister is like tic tacs.

Essen

Once I get a way to get the pictures off of my camera and onto the computer, I'll post some pictures of my apartment. Before I left, I was very adamant about Mom bringing my memory stick drive with her to Lehigh when I had thought I'd forgotten it, but as it turned out, I did have it. However, I forgot to transfer it from my band camp bag to my Germany bags and, ironically, sent it home with her. One of these days, I'll go buy myself another one. I also need to buy myself a jacket. Already, in September it's in the 50's and the 40's at night.

We have a small kitchen in the apartment with a gas stove and oven, and a very small refrigerator. And when I say gas stove, I don't mean like the one I had at Polk street, although that was a gas stove. This is one that you have to actually light with a match or a lighter. The first week I ate basically sandwiches, granola, and yogurt since those were the only thing I bought the first time I went to the grocery store. Grocery shopping is interesting in Germany. There are different types of stores. There are the one like Aldi that have most of what you need. But then they usually don't have good vegtables. For fresh vegtables, you go to a market and for bread, you go to a bakery. So after you've been to those three places, you've got what you need. I went grocery shopping the beginning of last week. I wasn't entirely sure what I wanted to get. I guess three months of not cooking for myself got me out of the habbit of menu planning and I wasn't quite sure with the German stores would have to offer (I still haven't really figured out all the possibilites) I bought chicken breast and deli turkey, cheese (Gouda and Swiss), eggs, and vegetables that I would eat in the States. So it's essentially the exact same stuff I eat. The only things I miss are frozen vegetables (that way you don't have to eat them right away) and cheddar cheese. I did make some awesome stuffed mushrooms the other day. This was during the week Paul was really busy and I never saw him and it was also my first time using the oven. It took me forever to figure out where to light the thing. And then it took even longer (and a whole lot of matches) to succeed at lighting it. And I have no idea what the temperatures are on it because it's just numbered 1 through 8.

I only cook dinner. I eat lunch with my work folks in the Kantine on the first floor of the UBA. I get a discount for being an intern and it's pretty cheap to begin with. I've eaten all sorts of different stuff there.