When I was a child, I used to love being in our kitchen. The cliche about the kitchen being the heart of the home is pretty accurate, and even though ours was quite small, I felt most at home there. I wish I could wax eloquent about dishes my mother cooked, but honestly, the dear woman would happily forego cooking for the rest of her life if she were able. She'd probably live on cups of tea, if she could, too. Though I think the snack food industry would have some seriously problems if she were able to do so, because despite being tall and willowy, my mother loves salty snacks with her glass of wine.
I don't remember any kitchen disasters. My mother's cooking was just your normal, white-bread, middle-class western meals. She made beef stroganoff, schnitzel, chicken casserole, chops, honey soy chicken, sausages, roast beef, and various barbequed meats... see a pattern here? We were a meat-and-three-veg family, though we were thankfully blessed with more than three veg, steamed to barely-soft because my brother refused to eat his vegetables if they were well-cooked.
The one area where my mother truly excelled, far from the savouries that we devoured daily, was baking. Which seems odd, in retrospect, considering that I've heard her say on many occasions that she'd be happy not to need to cook ever again. Baking is that newly-rediscovered art that spawns potential food-bloggers left, right, and centre. I read more baking blogs than I'd care to admit to, because coincidentally, many of those great bakers are also great stylists and great photographers. I can't say anything for my mother's photography skills, because she rarely takes photos of anything other than my niece, but if her house is anything to go by, then perhaps the modern styling holds true.
My time in the kitchen of my childhood home was spent watching. And happily devouring, of course, seated on the tall stools at the breakfast bar. But I loved to watch as my mother's hands sifted and mixed, folded and blended and rendered smooth layers of creamy frosting. I learned to bake by watching. I can't honestly say that I only loved to watch the in-house cooking show that was enacted in our kitchen. I was a child, and accordingly, I hovered closely when my mother was baking, in order to scrape the last of the batter from the spoon, the beaters, the spatula, or my personal favourite, the bowl. Of course, I had three siblings to contend with, so really I never got the lion's share.
My mother also learned to bake by family tradition. She came from a slightly Irish-Catholic family, and her grandmother, the affectionately-titled Granny Jane, lived with my grandparents and their six children. Every Sunday, they'd do the baking for the week - all the breads, cakes, and biscuits that a large family could possibly eat. Granny Jane was the head of the kitchen, and I know that my mother speaks of her with nothing but love and admiration. I can only lament that I never met her, but I'm sure I could have made her a delicious vanilla slice to go with her cuppa.
My mother took cake-decorating classes at some point. As a result, our birthday cakes were phenomenal. The cupcakes that we took to shared school lunches and celebrations were the first to disappear. And I used to love to pour over her cookbooks, seeing all the beautiful creations within. I learned to cook by sheer gluttony - I wanted to try everything that looked beautiful enough to tempt me. I've never had that fear of baking that the uninitiated have to combat. I've made fluffy sponges, dense and crusty loaves of zucchini and sundried tomato bread, choc chip biscuits, butterfly cakes filled with vegan chocolate custard, about a billion (or more) vegan 'chicken' pies, and so many chocolate cakes that my slightly-too-generous tummy wobbles just thinking about. If I wanted to eat it, I could bake it.
But I've come to a point in my life where I'm unsure about baking. Unbearably weak German baking powder, a lack of custard powder, strangely textured flours, the world's slowest oven (don't even get me started on my oven!) and an incredibly annoying and ignorant Mitbewohner have combined to make me hesitate. I want everything that I pull from that god-awful oven to be perfect, so that when it gets stared at and scrutinsed by the aforementioned Mitb- and his ever-present girlfriend (seriously, doesn't she have a home to go to? She's been here for 2 weeks!) then I know my baking will hold up to my high standards.
Today, I can only say, that I'm glad they're not home. Somehow, in my recent shopping trip, I managed to grab Pasta Flour. Which, in Australia, is perfectly acceptible. It's just plain flour, milled to 0 or 00 for that beautifully textured pasta that has enough strength to withstand a quick boil. In Germany, however, it means half-flour, half-semolina. Jeez, Germany, can't you do anything right? I could make a joke about how I've finally found semolina, after looking for so long, but it's not as funny because it's still mixed with flour. Dammit!
What this means, is that I have a carrot and zucchini loaf in the oven, that is likely to never actually bake. Or at least, not to the fluffy load consistency that I want to drizzle with olive oil and flakes of salt, or warm slightly and eat for breakfast (slathered with margarine accordingly). Being the ever-confident baker, I had my grated vegetables, leftover from tonight's frittata, already in a bowl. I liberally poured in my olive oil, soymilk, and added some baking powder. (Because we all know that self-raising flour is much too difficult for this continent to manage!) Then, in the midst of slicing my baguette and flipping my frittata, I poured the pasta flour directly into my bowl. Oh, goddammit.
I find it unbearable to waste food, after the time and effort and food miles and petrol (and occasionally love) that has gone into getting it from someone's patch of dirt to my concrete cabin of an apartment. So I shrugged, mixed it in, supplemented with a little normal (albeit wholemeal) flour, and put it in the oven. It looks fantastic - all golden and crusty on the top. My kitchen smells phenomenal - a mix of soft baking, dried thyme and oregano, and the slight sweetness of the vegetables. But every time I test my loaf with a skewer, it comes out with damp and sticky dough still attached. It's been baking for nearly two hours. My confidence in my unkillable cakes is feeling a little subdued, to say the least.
Stay calm and carry on, as they say. This loaf gets another half hour. And if it's still too moist inside, well, to hell with it. Truthfully, I can't think that a semolina loaf would be too terrible... especially not if I sliced it thickly, and sauteed it on both sides in some hot olive oil to make it all caramelised and golden like all those nonnas I've been stealing recipes from for years. Nothing is ever perfect, and I'm pretty sure that my mother has passed that along to me. I'm sure that she had things in the oven that didn't turn out exactly as she hoped, but there's a good reason for why I don't remember any kitchen disasters. My mother, like her mother and Granny Jane, knew how to adapt. For everything in life, we use our skills as best as we're able. And I'm damn good at sauteeing.
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
You let your manatee down, and then you drown, that's just the way with nature.
...love that song. Never thought I'd get into that Future of the Left album, but hey, I'm happy to be surprised. Except that I haven't been letting any manatees down, thankfully. Just myself, by forgetting that I'm not eating the right things, because I'm so bored with the lack of variety in what I've been eating...
Which, in my defense, isn't entirely my fault. Certain things that used to be staples in my diet (Chinese greens, tofu, celery, pumpkin) are either completely unobtainable, terribly expensive, or of the sort of quality that I'm not going to buy. Which means that I've been upping my consumption of other things, most of which are still very healthy, and fruit/veg related.
The problem is, of course, that I'm intolerant to something (not entirely convinced it's salicylates, but I think it could just be the nightshade family or perhaps histamines?)... which means that today, AGAIN, I woke up with a swollen face. Mostly just an upper lip this time, which is more than enough to stop me from leaving the house. Not going to uni looking like I got into a punch-up, thanks. Plus I don't have much energy, but I still feel better than the last time that this happened...
Friday. Goddammit, I let this happen twice in the space of a week. I should have learned from the tiredness and the headache that my body wasn't ready to eat anything too challenging... but, of course, I was ravenous when I got home from uni yesterday, because I didn't feel like eating during the break. As if that's not enough of a sign! I always want to eat! But for some reason, I ignored it, and ate the leftover tomato and eggplant in the fridge.
Ok, I admit that I can't deal with throwing away food, and it did have to be eaten. But really, what was I thinking? I guess on Friday I wasn't sure what caused the reaction, whereas today, having eaten yesterday the remains of the same thing that I ate on Thursday evening, I'm pretty damn convinced. Kind of heartbroken, because I love cooked tomatoes, and I love eggplant. Pretty annoyed at myself. Also confused, because I've been reading so much conflicting info about food intolerances. Either way, I know that I've suspected both of those vegetables in the past, and they're both members of the same group of food, so as such, they're both banned for now. I didn't even eat very much...
Ok, whining over. I guess I'm still not convinced that I'm salicylate intolerant, because I can eat things in the "high" category with no apparent reaction. There was that summer where I stupidly planted three zucchini plants (which is what happens when I'm let loose in Bunnings) and ate more zucchini than I could bear. I wasn't even enjoying it by the end, there. But I don't recall it making me sick.
But I know it's a cumulative effect, and that salicylates stay in your system for a while, and suddenly something triggers a reaction. I'll just keep my mind open to the possibility that it's possibly something else. The nightshade thing is quite likely, though that brings potatoes into the equation, and I can't recall ever having any troubles with them. Granted, I don't eat them often enough to really find out. Either way, I'm going to go back to reading Michael Pollan, and go on a safe-diet for a few weeks. Fingers crossed, because I'm going to go nuts if I wake up with another reaction anytime soon.
This is probably deadly boring to read, but hey, it's my blog, so bad luck! ;)
Which, in my defense, isn't entirely my fault. Certain things that used to be staples in my diet (Chinese greens, tofu, celery, pumpkin) are either completely unobtainable, terribly expensive, or of the sort of quality that I'm not going to buy. Which means that I've been upping my consumption of other things, most of which are still very healthy, and fruit/veg related.
The problem is, of course, that I'm intolerant to something (not entirely convinced it's salicylates, but I think it could just be the nightshade family or perhaps histamines?)... which means that today, AGAIN, I woke up with a swollen face. Mostly just an upper lip this time, which is more than enough to stop me from leaving the house. Not going to uni looking like I got into a punch-up, thanks. Plus I don't have much energy, but I still feel better than the last time that this happened...
Friday. Goddammit, I let this happen twice in the space of a week. I should have learned from the tiredness and the headache that my body wasn't ready to eat anything too challenging... but, of course, I was ravenous when I got home from uni yesterday, because I didn't feel like eating during the break. As if that's not enough of a sign! I always want to eat! But for some reason, I ignored it, and ate the leftover tomato and eggplant in the fridge.
Ok, I admit that I can't deal with throwing away food, and it did have to be eaten. But really, what was I thinking? I guess on Friday I wasn't sure what caused the reaction, whereas today, having eaten yesterday the remains of the same thing that I ate on Thursday evening, I'm pretty damn convinced. Kind of heartbroken, because I love cooked tomatoes, and I love eggplant. Pretty annoyed at myself. Also confused, because I've been reading so much conflicting info about food intolerances. Either way, I know that I've suspected both of those vegetables in the past, and they're both members of the same group of food, so as such, they're both banned for now. I didn't even eat very much...
Ok, whining over. I guess I'm still not convinced that I'm salicylate intolerant, because I can eat things in the "high" category with no apparent reaction. There was that summer where I stupidly planted three zucchini plants (which is what happens when I'm let loose in Bunnings) and ate more zucchini than I could bear. I wasn't even enjoying it by the end, there. But I don't recall it making me sick.
But I know it's a cumulative effect, and that salicylates stay in your system for a while, and suddenly something triggers a reaction. I'll just keep my mind open to the possibility that it's possibly something else. The nightshade thing is quite likely, though that brings potatoes into the equation, and I can't recall ever having any troubles with them. Granted, I don't eat them often enough to really find out. Either way, I'm going to go back to reading Michael Pollan, and go on a safe-diet for a few weeks. Fingers crossed, because I'm going to go nuts if I wake up with another reaction anytime soon.
This is probably deadly boring to read, but hey, it's my blog, so bad luck! ;)
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Looking up at the sky, and into the Nation Blue.
I had a bit of a relevation earlier. I was thinking ahead to the birthday that everyone thinks I should be excited about, actually. About how everyone else thinks it's more of a big deal than I think it is. And I guess I've come to some pretty good conclusions. I mean, I don't need to celebrate having made it through another year alive. I'm happy for each day as it comes. Sometimes (when I've slept well and don't have to go to uni, work, or other unpleasant obligations) I'm just thrilled to wake up in the morning. Especially when the weather is nice...
Another good reason why birthdays aren't that special is that I'm just seriously fucking lucky. I mean, most people get excited about gifts on their birthday. Why should I care about gifts? I have everything I need, plus so much more. It's lovely that my friends and family go to the effort of posting me things, or transferring me money. But I don't need anything. I've got my money for the year already sorted, and I'm not one of those people who needs something and has to wait around for a birthday in order to finally have it. If I want something, I go out and buy it. Sure, there's always limits to that (I'd love a vege spiralizer, but am I willing to pay 30 Euro to get one? Not a chance!) but generally speaking, especially for things that I find important, I can just get it myself. For the last few years, my arrangement with my parents regarding birthdays is that if I want something, I buy it and they reimburse me. Which is why I got a pair of Bettina Liano Jeans for my birthday one year. I needed new jeans, sure, but I took advantage of it and got expensive ones. And if I didn't have a birthday coming up? Well, I probably just would have bought them myself a few months later, after saving for them. That's just how it goes.
So, really, what else would I need? I have absolutely amazing parents. Sure, we disagree on plenty of things, but they're good people and they've always done their best to provide for me. I have the best friends in the world, even though they're a long way away. They're still there if I need them. I know that if I should suddenly panic about something and desperately need to talk, I could call them in the middle of the night, and they'd understand. (Especially so because I'm not the sort of person to ever interrupt someone's sleep by calling them at stupid hours!) There are always people there for me, even when I don't reach out for them.
And finally, coming to my life in Germany. Sure, there are things I don't like. I'll have a whinge about the Mitbewohner on another occasion. But it's so easy to step back from it all. Bei mir, es ist egal. I say that more often than I'd care to admit to. Not because I'm that easy going (though we'd all like to pretend that we are) but because most of the time things just don't affect me. Now, before anyone starts to think I'm completely disattached from my own life, let's not get into any Camus comparisons here. I know I have friends who don't understand how I can simply not care about things. I know that people probably find me a bit cold, when they don't know me yet. And believe me, I know that it takes me a long time to depend on anyone. In fact, I'm probably still yet to achieve that one. But I also know that it doesn't matter, in the grand scheme of things. There are more important things to worry about.
I'm just so aware that this is all temporary. Sure, I might not like something, and things are always going to go wrong. I'm still aware of how lucky I am to be here at all. But I also know that come April, I can leave it all behind, and go back to the comforts of home. Not to say that things don't affect me in the meantime, because they do. But I can always remember the bigger picture. It's so much harder to do that when I'm in Adelaide. Here, when someone in my class is hell bent on yelling out every answer, despite the fact that they're not the person that the teacher has nominated to reply, I calm myself by simply remembering that the reason why they know every preposition perfectly is that they don't have any friends, or consequently, anything better to do than study. I couldn't do that in Adelaide; I'd definitely tell them to shut up and quit being rude. But here, it's not really my problem - it's theirs. (Though if they do it to me, I'm going to make a point of it!) I'm further from perfect than a person likes to think about, but I take pride in my ability to take pleasure in the simple things, and I don't need a birthday in order to celebrate that.
Another good reason why birthdays aren't that special is that I'm just seriously fucking lucky. I mean, most people get excited about gifts on their birthday. Why should I care about gifts? I have everything I need, plus so much more. It's lovely that my friends and family go to the effort of posting me things, or transferring me money. But I don't need anything. I've got my money for the year already sorted, and I'm not one of those people who needs something and has to wait around for a birthday in order to finally have it. If I want something, I go out and buy it. Sure, there's always limits to that (I'd love a vege spiralizer, but am I willing to pay 30 Euro to get one? Not a chance!) but generally speaking, especially for things that I find important, I can just get it myself. For the last few years, my arrangement with my parents regarding birthdays is that if I want something, I buy it and they reimburse me. Which is why I got a pair of Bettina Liano Jeans for my birthday one year. I needed new jeans, sure, but I took advantage of it and got expensive ones. And if I didn't have a birthday coming up? Well, I probably just would have bought them myself a few months later, after saving for them. That's just how it goes.
So, really, what else would I need? I have absolutely amazing parents. Sure, we disagree on plenty of things, but they're good people and they've always done their best to provide for me. I have the best friends in the world, even though they're a long way away. They're still there if I need them. I know that if I should suddenly panic about something and desperately need to talk, I could call them in the middle of the night, and they'd understand. (Especially so because I'm not the sort of person to ever interrupt someone's sleep by calling them at stupid hours!) There are always people there for me, even when I don't reach out for them.
And finally, coming to my life in Germany. Sure, there are things I don't like. I'll have a whinge about the Mitbewohner on another occasion. But it's so easy to step back from it all. Bei mir, es ist egal. I say that more often than I'd care to admit to. Not because I'm that easy going (though we'd all like to pretend that we are) but because most of the time things just don't affect me. Now, before anyone starts to think I'm completely disattached from my own life, let's not get into any Camus comparisons here. I know I have friends who don't understand how I can simply not care about things. I know that people probably find me a bit cold, when they don't know me yet. And believe me, I know that it takes me a long time to depend on anyone. In fact, I'm probably still yet to achieve that one. But I also know that it doesn't matter, in the grand scheme of things. There are more important things to worry about.
I'm just so aware that this is all temporary. Sure, I might not like something, and things are always going to go wrong. I'm still aware of how lucky I am to be here at all. But I also know that come April, I can leave it all behind, and go back to the comforts of home. Not to say that things don't affect me in the meantime, because they do. But I can always remember the bigger picture. It's so much harder to do that when I'm in Adelaide. Here, when someone in my class is hell bent on yelling out every answer, despite the fact that they're not the person that the teacher has nominated to reply, I calm myself by simply remembering that the reason why they know every preposition perfectly is that they don't have any friends, or consequently, anything better to do than study. I couldn't do that in Adelaide; I'd definitely tell them to shut up and quit being rude. But here, it's not really my problem - it's theirs. (Though if they do it to me, I'm going to make a point of it!) I'm further from perfect than a person likes to think about, but I take pride in my ability to take pleasure in the simple things, and I don't need a birthday in order to celebrate that.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Photos from Warsaw.
The Jewish Cemetary.
Jewish Cemetary.
Warsaw Rising Museum.
Ghetto Wall.
Comparative Meat Rations (Pawiak Prison Museum)
Pawiak Prison Wall.
Warsaw Rising Monument.
Everyone loves a crypt.
Inside the Palace.
A little overboard on the guilding, maybe?
Gratuitous Pipe Organ... again. (St Anne's Church)
St Anne's.
Remaining section of the original city wall.
Behind the Palace.
Early morning in the Old Town.
Main Square in the Old Town.
I really just liked this fence. I can't even remember which monument it guarded.
Changing of the Guard: 8am Sunday, by the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier.Entry #4 from June Travels.
Sun 27 Jun 2010
At the hostel, tired again. Contemplating going to the bar with the drink voucher that they gave me when I checked in: one free tea/coffee/beer. I'm sure you can guess what I'll be going for, seeing as how there's free tea and coffee in the kitchen.
Today I was up at 6am again. The silent roommate and her later-arriving friend were unfortunately not so silent last night. I'm glad that they're gone today. Hopefully tonight I'll get a better sleep. I had breakfast (oats, nectarines, coffee) whilst talking to an Italian guy. I didn't feel like chatting but he was making an effort so I had to be polite. But I really had nothing to say. After breakfast I walked all teh way to the Jewish Cemetary, only to find that Lonely Planet had lied - it opened at 11am, not 9am. So I caught the tram part was back, and walked the rest. Went to the hostel to use the bathroom at about 10am, because it was close and free. Went back to the cemetary later via the Synagogue (couldn't go in because there was a service happening) and the Warsaw Rising Museum.
The Museum was free but it was also painfully crowded. I couldn't take in all the exhibits, and just felt a bit overwhelmed. But I did collect some leaflets for reading material, so I'll go over those later. I bought a cute tote bag for zl15, which is about Aud$5. I was happy to leave, though. The museum is very modern, obviously only built in the last couple of years, and designed to be overly dramatic. It's deliberately poorly lit, and navigating the exhibits in the correct order proved to be a nightmare.
Anyway, after that I caught the tram again. It was my old friend #22, who I've been on a lot lately, albeit without ever paying. Got back to the Jewish Cemetary, who now charge a small fee to tourists (Lonely Planet, you were wrong again, my unreliable friend!)... it was overgrown, as though a forest had invaded, and many tombstones were crumbling or fallen - possibly aftermath of the war? It was an interesting place to wander, anyway. I was starving by that time, so I took #22 back to the hostel. I stopped at a corner kebab shop for a delicious felafel. They weren't joking when they said the spicy sauce was very spicy, but it was awesome. Fresh, crunchy salad, and no pickles. I was still a bit hungry, but came back to the hostel to rest my weary feet.
I read the rest of The Kite Runner, which wasn't as good as the other book I've read by the same author... can't remember the title, though. The Kite Runner was re-gifted to the communal bookshelf. I decided to head back into the old town, and to grab a snack on the way. I made the mistake of getting too close to the old town, and my felafel came with seriously shoddy salad. I'd asked for no sauce, but it came with garlic sauce, and I'm still tasting strong garlic. I'm hoping it won't destroy my stomach too much - I'm too tired to get sick now. I've got my fingers crossed, anyway.
There were crowds in town - L'Oreal was hosting something, with a big stage and marquees. I think it was a fashion parade? There were too many people, so I didn't stick around to find out. Stopped in a deli for a drink because I was parched (today is sunny and warm again) but got an iced-tea flavoured iceblock (Calippo!) instead. It was the best idea, albeit much too sugary. Now someone just needs to make me a soylatte Calippo and I'll be a happy woman. Anyway, I came back here to the hostel, and now I'm writing this. I'm contemplating dinner just because I'm tired and want to go to bed (plus I have leftovers from yesterday waiting in the fridge). Might wash my sweaty face, and get my beer instead.
At the hostel, tired again. Contemplating going to the bar with the drink voucher that they gave me when I checked in: one free tea/coffee/beer. I'm sure you can guess what I'll be going for, seeing as how there's free tea and coffee in the kitchen.
Today I was up at 6am again. The silent roommate and her later-arriving friend were unfortunately not so silent last night. I'm glad that they're gone today. Hopefully tonight I'll get a better sleep. I had breakfast (oats, nectarines, coffee) whilst talking to an Italian guy. I didn't feel like chatting but he was making an effort so I had to be polite. But I really had nothing to say. After breakfast I walked all teh way to the Jewish Cemetary, only to find that Lonely Planet had lied - it opened at 11am, not 9am. So I caught the tram part was back, and walked the rest. Went to the hostel to use the bathroom at about 10am, because it was close and free. Went back to the cemetary later via the Synagogue (couldn't go in because there was a service happening) and the Warsaw Rising Museum.
The Museum was free but it was also painfully crowded. I couldn't take in all the exhibits, and just felt a bit overwhelmed. But I did collect some leaflets for reading material, so I'll go over those later. I bought a cute tote bag for zl15, which is about Aud$5. I was happy to leave, though. The museum is very modern, obviously only built in the last couple of years, and designed to be overly dramatic. It's deliberately poorly lit, and navigating the exhibits in the correct order proved to be a nightmare.
Anyway, after that I caught the tram again. It was my old friend #22, who I've been on a lot lately, albeit without ever paying. Got back to the Jewish Cemetary, who now charge a small fee to tourists (Lonely Planet, you were wrong again, my unreliable friend!)... it was overgrown, as though a forest had invaded, and many tombstones were crumbling or fallen - possibly aftermath of the war? It was an interesting place to wander, anyway. I was starving by that time, so I took #22 back to the hostel. I stopped at a corner kebab shop for a delicious felafel. They weren't joking when they said the spicy sauce was very spicy, but it was awesome. Fresh, crunchy salad, and no pickles. I was still a bit hungry, but came back to the hostel to rest my weary feet.
I read the rest of The Kite Runner, which wasn't as good as the other book I've read by the same author... can't remember the title, though. The Kite Runner was re-gifted to the communal bookshelf. I decided to head back into the old town, and to grab a snack on the way. I made the mistake of getting too close to the old town, and my felafel came with seriously shoddy salad. I'd asked for no sauce, but it came with garlic sauce, and I'm still tasting strong garlic. I'm hoping it won't destroy my stomach too much - I'm too tired to get sick now. I've got my fingers crossed, anyway.
There were crowds in town - L'Oreal was hosting something, with a big stage and marquees. I think it was a fashion parade? There were too many people, so I didn't stick around to find out. Stopped in a deli for a drink because I was parched (today is sunny and warm again) but got an iced-tea flavoured iceblock (Calippo!) instead. It was the best idea, albeit much too sugary. Now someone just needs to make me a soylatte Calippo and I'll be a happy woman. Anyway, I came back here to the hostel, and now I'm writing this. I'm contemplating dinner just because I'm tired and want to go to bed (plus I have leftovers from yesterday waiting in the fridge). Might wash my sweaty face, and get my beer instead.
Entry #3 from June Travels
Sat 26th Jun 2010
I'll pick up where I left off. I was on the train for 6 hours (which was quite boring, really). I ate the fruit (nectarines and cherries) and few slices of bread that I had with me. And then, for some reason, I got off the train at a large station, following a long announcement in Polish that ended with "Warsawa Centralna". Unfortunately for me, there weren't any signs on the station we'd pulled into, otherwise I might have found out a little sooner that it wasn't Warsawa Centralna, but another Warsaw station. In fact, I didn't even find that out until I left the (rather dilapidated) building, because it wasn't written anywhere inside, either.
So, I walked for a while, searching the bus and tram stops for stations that sounded familiar. Finally, I found Centralna listed as a stop on Tram #22's route. So I rushed onto the tram, which was pulling in as I read the sign, feeling mildly panicked about not paying. Most of the trams are really old and there's no ticket machine on board. So, I sat patiently on the tram for ten minutes... until everyone else piled off. I realised that it was the end of the line. So, cool as you like, I got off the tram, crossed the tracks, and waited for a tram back, hoping desperately that no one had seen me (with my rather distinctive blue Puma bag) and noticed what an idiot I was. I came to the realisation, by having the time to properly read the sign, that the one stop highlighted on each poster is the one you're standing at. (It would have been helpful had the first tram stop I found actually been labelled elsewhere, but unfortunately that's just how it goes.) I'd caught the right tram, but alas, in the wrong direction.
So I got on Tram #18, which access the same stops, and made it to the city centre. I walked to the hostel, which was both conveniently located and easy to find, once I'd gotten my bearings. I checked in, put my bags down, and immediately asked for directions to a supermarket - I was starved! I decided on the better-stocked but futher-away option, knowing that the corner store also suggested by the receptionist was unlikely to have soymilk. So I bought soymilk and oats for breakfasts, a bag of frozen mixed veg, pasta, a jar of sauce and a bag of nectarines. It was all really cheap, actually. I went back to the hostel and made pasta with veg for dinner, saving the leftover for today's lunch. I found out that the sauce that had suggested itself as Mexican-style was, in fact, must closer to Sweet and Sour. Oh well. I ate, washed my dishes, used the interenet and borrowed "The Kite Runner" from the communal bookshelf. I went to sleep ridiculously early and got up at 6am today.
I'd laid out my things the night before, so I grabbed what I needed and went for a shower. Went to the kitchen and had oats, plus coffee of course. I talked to a couple of New Zealanders and a Japanese girl, who were also eating. Realised (yet again) how awul Australian and New Zealand accents can be (especially on girls with really hoarse voices). I was outside by 7:50am, wandering around and taking photos of the old town before it became crowded with tourists. My feet were already sore - my green sneakers were still a little damp, so I was wearing my 2-pound tennis shoes with paper-thin soles.
I went back to the old town, took photos in St Anne's Church, and then went into the Palace. Saw some nice, ornate rooms, generally gilded with gold. I had to go around twice because I couldn't find the exit and was ushered by an overly helpful staff lady into the first room I'd started in, which meant I got to walk the one-way circuit yet again. I felt a bit silly, walking through it all briskly again. After that I tried to go to the Warsaw Museum but it was closed for Renovations. The lady said to come back as 12 for the English film screening but I was busy with other things by that time.
I went to the Pawiak Prison Museum, which was quite small but relatively interesting, but made the mistake of having too many tiny artifacts with vague English labels and not quite enough information to join them together into some kind of narrative. (Ed note: That seems to be a common problem with the Polish museums I saw, now that I think about it.) I saw the Warsaw Rising Monument and the Ghetto Monument. Walked back to the city via a small but very long market - bought a couple of massive peaches. My feet were really hurting by then, and I kept having to stop to rest.
I went into a Supermarket (Ed note: Carrefour, which I've since learned is in dire financial trouble, despite the amount of money I poured into them whilst in Poland), buying some pierogi for dinner, kidney beans, tinned tomatoes, a Lipton red iced tea and a salad. I walked to a nearby park (plenty of those in Warsaw!) and ate the salad whilst relaxing on a shady bench. It was a very warm day, so the iced tea was completely necessary. I went back to the hostel, still somewhat hungry, and finished off the remnants of last night's dinner. Used the internet, and read a bit more of the Kite Runner.
I decided to go out to shop, having a few things in mind, but only bought a pair of shorts - admittedly very useful, but I got overcharged, and didn't feel like pointing it out to some woman who only spoke Polish. I went into another supermarket to buy bandaids for my feet, which were blistered from wearing new shoes all day. I also bought some frozen peas & carrots for dinner, a tupperware container to use for food (essential whilst travelling) and some bikkies as a treat. Came back to the hostel and made dinner - pierogi with tomato sauce and kidney beans, plus peas and carrots. I made two meals, with the other going into the new tupperware and into the fridge for the next day.
I talked to an Italian and an Australian. (I met more Australians than any other nationality! Get out of Europe!) Had a cup of tea and my bikkies, then came back to the room. Ate two nectarines, which was a bit greedy considering the size of my dinner. Then I repacked my things, so that tomorrow I have access to shower things and clean clothes when I get up, and won't need to rustle around in my bags looking for things while people are still sleeping. It drives me nuts when other people do that. I make sure everything is all in one bag, so I can just take it from the locker and go straight to the showers.
While I was packing, a new girl came in. She hasn't said a word to me, despite coming in and out of the room several times, so I'm happy to ignore her too. My other (Korean) roommate is nicer, even though I get rapidly bored with talking to strangers. Plus the new girl just opened the window that I shut a few moments ago. I'll leave it open for a little longer, but when I go to bed, it's getting closed. I'm already covered in red welts from evil European mosquitoes. I don't know why people think that insects in Australia are a problem? It's evident they've never seen a European Summer.
So today I've done nearly everything that I had planned for Warsaw. I'm a very efficient tourist, not lingering anywhere for too long, in the fear of missing out on something. What that means is that I get more tired than anyone else. Oh well. Tomorrow is the Warsaw Rising Museum, Jewish Cemetary, and the old Synagogue. I don't think I've actually been into a Synagogue before. I'm going to wrap this up here, so that I can get into my pjs and crawl into bed.
I'll pick up where I left off. I was on the train for 6 hours (which was quite boring, really). I ate the fruit (nectarines and cherries) and few slices of bread that I had with me. And then, for some reason, I got off the train at a large station, following a long announcement in Polish that ended with "Warsawa Centralna". Unfortunately for me, there weren't any signs on the station we'd pulled into, otherwise I might have found out a little sooner that it wasn't Warsawa Centralna, but another Warsaw station. In fact, I didn't even find that out until I left the (rather dilapidated) building, because it wasn't written anywhere inside, either.
So, I walked for a while, searching the bus and tram stops for stations that sounded familiar. Finally, I found Centralna listed as a stop on Tram #22's route. So I rushed onto the tram, which was pulling in as I read the sign, feeling mildly panicked about not paying. Most of the trams are really old and there's no ticket machine on board. So, I sat patiently on the tram for ten minutes... until everyone else piled off. I realised that it was the end of the line. So, cool as you like, I got off the tram, crossed the tracks, and waited for a tram back, hoping desperately that no one had seen me (with my rather distinctive blue Puma bag) and noticed what an idiot I was. I came to the realisation, by having the time to properly read the sign, that the one stop highlighted on each poster is the one you're standing at. (It would have been helpful had the first tram stop I found actually been labelled elsewhere, but unfortunately that's just how it goes.) I'd caught the right tram, but alas, in the wrong direction.
So I got on Tram #18, which access the same stops, and made it to the city centre. I walked to the hostel, which was both conveniently located and easy to find, once I'd gotten my bearings. I checked in, put my bags down, and immediately asked for directions to a supermarket - I was starved! I decided on the better-stocked but futher-away option, knowing that the corner store also suggested by the receptionist was unlikely to have soymilk. So I bought soymilk and oats for breakfasts, a bag of frozen mixed veg, pasta, a jar of sauce and a bag of nectarines. It was all really cheap, actually. I went back to the hostel and made pasta with veg for dinner, saving the leftover for today's lunch. I found out that the sauce that had suggested itself as Mexican-style was, in fact, must closer to Sweet and Sour. Oh well. I ate, washed my dishes, used the interenet and borrowed "The Kite Runner" from the communal bookshelf. I went to sleep ridiculously early and got up at 6am today.
I'd laid out my things the night before, so I grabbed what I needed and went for a shower. Went to the kitchen and had oats, plus coffee of course. I talked to a couple of New Zealanders and a Japanese girl, who were also eating. Realised (yet again) how awul Australian and New Zealand accents can be (especially on girls with really hoarse voices). I was outside by 7:50am, wandering around and taking photos of the old town before it became crowded with tourists. My feet were already sore - my green sneakers were still a little damp, so I was wearing my 2-pound tennis shoes with paper-thin soles.
I went back to the old town, took photos in St Anne's Church, and then went into the Palace. Saw some nice, ornate rooms, generally gilded with gold. I had to go around twice because I couldn't find the exit and was ushered by an overly helpful staff lady into the first room I'd started in, which meant I got to walk the one-way circuit yet again. I felt a bit silly, walking through it all briskly again. After that I tried to go to the Warsaw Museum but it was closed for Renovations. The lady said to come back as 12 for the English film screening but I was busy with other things by that time.
I went to the Pawiak Prison Museum, which was quite small but relatively interesting, but made the mistake of having too many tiny artifacts with vague English labels and not quite enough information to join them together into some kind of narrative. (Ed note: That seems to be a common problem with the Polish museums I saw, now that I think about it.) I saw the Warsaw Rising Monument and the Ghetto Monument. Walked back to the city via a small but very long market - bought a couple of massive peaches. My feet were really hurting by then, and I kept having to stop to rest.
I went into a Supermarket (Ed note: Carrefour, which I've since learned is in dire financial trouble, despite the amount of money I poured into them whilst in Poland), buying some pierogi for dinner, kidney beans, tinned tomatoes, a Lipton red iced tea and a salad. I walked to a nearby park (plenty of those in Warsaw!) and ate the salad whilst relaxing on a shady bench. It was a very warm day, so the iced tea was completely necessary. I went back to the hostel, still somewhat hungry, and finished off the remnants of last night's dinner. Used the internet, and read a bit more of the Kite Runner.
I decided to go out to shop, having a few things in mind, but only bought a pair of shorts - admittedly very useful, but I got overcharged, and didn't feel like pointing it out to some woman who only spoke Polish. I went into another supermarket to buy bandaids for my feet, which were blistered from wearing new shoes all day. I also bought some frozen peas & carrots for dinner, a tupperware container to use for food (essential whilst travelling) and some bikkies as a treat. Came back to the hostel and made dinner - pierogi with tomato sauce and kidney beans, plus peas and carrots. I made two meals, with the other going into the new tupperware and into the fridge for the next day.
I talked to an Italian and an Australian. (I met more Australians than any other nationality! Get out of Europe!) Had a cup of tea and my bikkies, then came back to the room. Ate two nectarines, which was a bit greedy considering the size of my dinner. Then I repacked my things, so that tomorrow I have access to shower things and clean clothes when I get up, and won't need to rustle around in my bags looking for things while people are still sleeping. It drives me nuts when other people do that. I make sure everything is all in one bag, so I can just take it from the locker and go straight to the showers.
While I was packing, a new girl came in. She hasn't said a word to me, despite coming in and out of the room several times, so I'm happy to ignore her too. My other (Korean) roommate is nicer, even though I get rapidly bored with talking to strangers. Plus the new girl just opened the window that I shut a few moments ago. I'll leave it open for a little longer, but when I go to bed, it's getting closed. I'm already covered in red welts from evil European mosquitoes. I don't know why people think that insects in Australia are a problem? It's evident they've never seen a European Summer.
So today I've done nearly everything that I had planned for Warsaw. I'm a very efficient tourist, not lingering anywhere for too long, in the fear of missing out on something. What that means is that I get more tired than anyone else. Oh well. Tomorrow is the Warsaw Rising Museum, Jewish Cemetary, and the old Synagogue. I don't think I've actually been into a Synagogue before. I'm going to wrap this up here, so that I can get into my pjs and crawl into bed.
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Entry #2 from June Travels.
Fri 25 June 2010
So, I'm on a train to Warsaw. Or at least, I'm relatively sure that I am, but it's impossible to be certain with Polish rail. Md wasn't kidding when he said they run on "Wodka and Prayer". Though, this train is clean, even if it is rather slow. I was hearing yesterday from a German woman in the hostel that the trains themselves can be new (such as the Intercity that I'm presently on) but that the rails are too old and in bad condition. I know this train takes nearly 2 hours longer to arrive in Warsaw because of engineering work, so I guess at least they're trying to fix the problem.
Anyway, the rail stations aren't a friendly place for foreigners - at least, not in Gdansk. Most of the destination signs don't work and of course, there's no English. I expect that it'll be easier in bigger stations. So: yesterday. I was up bright and early at 6:30am. I'd gone to sleep early because I was so tired after my early morning. So I showered and got ready, and wasted the 1 & 1/2 hours before breakfast by catching up on the internet. I had open sandwiches (German-style) for breakfast. Sadly, the coffee was instant. (Ed note: I'd soon realise how good that breakfast was, when I stayed at other hostels.) I ate and lounged around for a long time. Then I went on a wander through the old town, to the remnants of an old Mill complex that was bombed out in WWII and never demolished or repaired. It's crumbling, and trees grow in the mortar and on the ceilings.
Then, after many photos, I walked out to the Solidarity Museum. It was underground, and small, but pretty cool. I bought a tshirt, which I think will be too big, but I like it anyway. After that I went on a long walk, finding the Gdansk fortress built in a hill behind the Old Town, and housing a museum... it was entirely in Polish, so incomprehensible to me. I bought more cherries and nectarines at the fruit market, and sat in a park eating some. I went back to the hostel to rest my tired feet and put some things into my locker - I've been carrying too much weight in my bag, which is quite difficult when I need the two heaviest items: water and camera.
I hung around reading for an hour, which was a silly idea in retrospect (despite my aching feet) because it meant that I was too late to see the Postal Museum. Oh well. I took some photos of the monument and went for another wander. Saw yet more churches, etc. I was back in the hostel to use the internet for a bit when I decided that I was hungry. I think that really, I just wanted to eat something hot, which is a little more fulfilling than the fruit and rice cakes that I'd snacked on. I went for a wander to a kebab place, which was a total mistake. Not only did my felafel come with pickles (!!) but the entirely thing was drowning in the cheap and nasty tomato sauce that I'd opted for. So much sauce! It was terrible. I went back to the hostel, disappointed but no longer hungry, brushed my teeth, internetted (yes, internetting is a verb now) and had a very early night.
Consequently I kept waking up very early. I got out of bed at about 6am and showered. I'm wearing my 2 Pound black Primark sneakers today because I dropped one of my green sneakers in water last night, and it's still a little damp. Had a coffee and read some of the book I found in the room. It's seriously good, so I've stolen it for the journey. I had to wait to use the net because the guy working on night duty at the hostel was sleeping in the common room (girlfriend in tow) and the door was locked. So when he was finally up I could use it. Had breakfast - open sandwiches again - minus cucumber, and plus a few slices of bread and jam. I walked to the station, waited for a while, and here I am on the train.
Photos from Gdansk.
Gdansk.
Entry to the Solidarity Museum.
Gdansk Fortress.
Gdansk Fortress.
Until WWII, this was a Mill.
Abandoned Building on the Mill site.
Monument to Fallen Shipyard Workers.
"The Library."
Ship O' Tourists, Ahoy!
The long way down from St Mary's Tower. Oh, my aching legs!
...but at least the view was nice. Gdansk Old Town.
This was just another section of the 400+ steps to climb.
Gratuitous Pipe Organ photo. Sorry, I'll try to restrain myself on these.
...and on these. Lots of stained glass windows. Pretty colours.
I'm also a sucker for a pretty ceiling.
The floor in St Marys.Entry #1 from June Travels.
So, I'm finally getting around to typing up what I actually saw when I was away... keep in mind that I wrote it in a book (with appropriately awful handwriting) and that this is now severely outdated for anyone who keeps up with my life. Sorry about that. I'm not exactly the most motivated person, unless I'm wildly excited about something... and about this, I'm not. Oh well.
Wed 23 June 2010
So, a new travel journal. It's been a long time since I used of these. But the availability of the internet is likely to be sporadic over the next few weeks, so I think it's safer to record my thoughts here rather than risk forgetting them. I'm in Gdansk, but I'll step back a little to account for when I last blogged. I believe that was Sunday or perhaps Monday morning, staying at Ad's house. It was really good to catch up with him, and I hope he does move to Australia. But at times it felt like he was reserved, and he didn't smile as much as he used to. It's sad to see your friends heartbroken. But really, there's nothing I can do to help.
So, on Monday night I cooked dinner. I was hungry and tired because A and I had gone for a massive walk around the Thames that afternoon. I made dinner quite late, as we'd already been to the kebab shop for a late lunch (and I had awesome felafel). I made a tagine-style dish in a spiced tomato sauce, couscous salad, and a nectarine & vanilla upside-down cake for dessert. We sat outside because it was warm, eating and talking, having a few drinks with his parents. It was really nice.
On Tuesday I was up at 7am and on the train to london by 8am. That meant that I was able to maximise my day (and consequently my shopping!)... I spent some quality time at Marks & Spencer, found cute shorts and a new suit jacket, as well as a few other items. I also caught up with Mk and Tr. I met Mk at 12 and we had a coffee - he paid, because I'd bought him a beer when we caught up on Sunday. We grabbed snacks for lunch (or, rather, I purchased a sandwich and cubed mango, whereas he obeyed his budget and ate the bread rolls and nectarines that he'd brought with him).
We went to Primark for further shopping (shoes for 2 pound? Why, yes, I do believe I need a pair of black canvas sneakers!) before meeting Tr at Marble Arch. We walked all over London (ok, mostly in a straight line, but London is huge!) to finally reach the Twinings shop, but I was in good company and we had some laughs. We all stocked up on tea from a tiny shop that's been in the same location for 300 years, and at 4:30pm we went our seperate ways. For the record, I bought a tin of loose-leaf Ceylon Orange Pekoe, some Darjeeling teabags and a box of Elderflower + red berries (I think Cranberry, but I forget, and I'm too lazy to go look) for the Mitbewohnerin.
I caught the train to Maidenhead, where I called the M family and A came to pick me up. I was starving, so had leftovers from the previous nights' dinner. A had already polished off the leftover spinach risotto from Saturday night. I was repacked my bags, discovering that to my dismay, I could barely fit it all in and still zip my bag. I got a few hours sleep, got up at 3:15am and A drove me to Stanstead. I didn't have time to grab a snack in the airport, which was a pity. I was starving by the time we landed. We all started piling off the plane, down the stairs and onto the tarmac, when the air hostesses made us stop and said we couldn't disembark. So we sat on the steps, 30m from the terminal, for 20 mins. Then we all got back on the plane and waited for another 10 mins. I was not impressed! I still have no idea why we were delayed.
I found an ATM in the airport (it took a little searching, despite the airport being about as large as a shoebox) and took out 500 Zl - about 125 Euro. Exchange rate = win! I realised while I was waiting for the bus that I had no change with which to pay the fare, but thankfully the driver was in a rush and just waved us all on. There really were a lot of people waiting for the bus. I had another panic when I realised that I had no idea where to get off, but thankfully the bus stopped outside the train station, so I could navigate to the hostel from there. The staff were very friendly - a little flirty, even, in some instances. I couldn't get into the room as they hadn't cleaned it yet, so I left my bag there and went for a wander.
Actually, first I bought bread and jam from a tiny deli and made sandwiches. Then I looked around the old town. The architechture is much nicer than the crumbling Soviet-style buildings that I saw on the bus ride into the city, but still pretty shabby. The streets are in very poor repair (as was amply demonstrated by the bus ride). I walked along the river, climbed the brutal tower in the main church (St Mary's) and photographed places of interest. Consequently, I'm not quite sure that I'll do tomorrow, but I'm sure I can work something out.
I came back to the hostel at 2pm to put my stuff into my room. The room is called "The Library": newspaper and magazines have been used in place of wallpaper, and there are shelves of old Polish books lining the walls. I quite like it. It's definitely a pity that I had to take a top bunk. I used the free internet for a little while, to let A know that I arrived here intact, and replied to emails from both L and Sd. Then I went out again and wandered more. First, I went to the post office to pick up my Polrail train tickets, which were waiting as a Post Restante letter. Then, I managed to post back to Germany a few items of clothing that I don't want to potentially destroy here. The post office wasn't where my emailed map from Polrail said it would be (in fact, it was actually in the main rail station building). There were some language difficulties but I got there in the end. It's definitely good that I'm so stubborn, but I hate addressing someone when I don't know their language. Either way, it got posted, and I have my tickets.
I walked to the Monument to Fallen Shipyard Workers and took a lot of photos, and then had a slow wander back through town. I found some outside fruit and veg markets where I bought white cherries with a red blush across their skin, plus a few nectarines. I ate them whilst sitting in the sun, and then came back here to the hostel. I talked to an Australian roommate for a while, found a book in English, and wrote here. For the record, the book is "A Good Scent from a Strange Mountain" by Robert Olen Butler, and it's a collection of stories, each written in a Vietnamese voice, regarding the aftermath of the war; new lives, new countries, new rules. It's an awesome book, so I'm planning on posting it home so that Mum can read it. I think she'll like it. Anyway, it's 10 past 8 here, and I'm exhausted, definitely ready for bed. I know it's early, but I think I might just have to bite the bullet.
Wed 23 June 2010
So, a new travel journal. It's been a long time since I used of these. But the availability of the internet is likely to be sporadic over the next few weeks, so I think it's safer to record my thoughts here rather than risk forgetting them. I'm in Gdansk, but I'll step back a little to account for when I last blogged. I believe that was Sunday or perhaps Monday morning, staying at Ad's house. It was really good to catch up with him, and I hope he does move to Australia. But at times it felt like he was reserved, and he didn't smile as much as he used to. It's sad to see your friends heartbroken. But really, there's nothing I can do to help.
So, on Monday night I cooked dinner. I was hungry and tired because A and I had gone for a massive walk around the Thames that afternoon. I made dinner quite late, as we'd already been to the kebab shop for a late lunch (and I had awesome felafel). I made a tagine-style dish in a spiced tomato sauce, couscous salad, and a nectarine & vanilla upside-down cake for dessert. We sat outside because it was warm, eating and talking, having a few drinks with his parents. It was really nice.
On Tuesday I was up at 7am and on the train to london by 8am. That meant that I was able to maximise my day (and consequently my shopping!)... I spent some quality time at Marks & Spencer, found cute shorts and a new suit jacket, as well as a few other items. I also caught up with Mk and Tr. I met Mk at 12 and we had a coffee - he paid, because I'd bought him a beer when we caught up on Sunday. We grabbed snacks for lunch (or, rather, I purchased a sandwich and cubed mango, whereas he obeyed his budget and ate the bread rolls and nectarines that he'd brought with him).
We went to Primark for further shopping (shoes for 2 pound? Why, yes, I do believe I need a pair of black canvas sneakers!) before meeting Tr at Marble Arch. We walked all over London (ok, mostly in a straight line, but London is huge!) to finally reach the Twinings shop, but I was in good company and we had some laughs. We all stocked up on tea from a tiny shop that's been in the same location for 300 years, and at 4:30pm we went our seperate ways. For the record, I bought a tin of loose-leaf Ceylon Orange Pekoe, some Darjeeling teabags and a box of Elderflower + red berries (I think Cranberry, but I forget, and I'm too lazy to go look) for the Mitbewohnerin.
I caught the train to Maidenhead, where I called the M family and A came to pick me up. I was starving, so had leftovers from the previous nights' dinner. A had already polished off the leftover spinach risotto from Saturday night. I was repacked my bags, discovering that to my dismay, I could barely fit it all in and still zip my bag. I got a few hours sleep, got up at 3:15am and A drove me to Stanstead. I didn't have time to grab a snack in the airport, which was a pity. I was starving by the time we landed. We all started piling off the plane, down the stairs and onto the tarmac, when the air hostesses made us stop and said we couldn't disembark. So we sat on the steps, 30m from the terminal, for 20 mins. Then we all got back on the plane and waited for another 10 mins. I was not impressed! I still have no idea why we were delayed.
I found an ATM in the airport (it took a little searching, despite the airport being about as large as a shoebox) and took out 500 Zl - about 125 Euro. Exchange rate = win! I realised while I was waiting for the bus that I had no change with which to pay the fare, but thankfully the driver was in a rush and just waved us all on. There really were a lot of people waiting for the bus. I had another panic when I realised that I had no idea where to get off, but thankfully the bus stopped outside the train station, so I could navigate to the hostel from there. The staff were very friendly - a little flirty, even, in some instances. I couldn't get into the room as they hadn't cleaned it yet, so I left my bag there and went for a wander.
Actually, first I bought bread and jam from a tiny deli and made sandwiches. Then I looked around the old town. The architechture is much nicer than the crumbling Soviet-style buildings that I saw on the bus ride into the city, but still pretty shabby. The streets are in very poor repair (as was amply demonstrated by the bus ride). I walked along the river, climbed the brutal tower in the main church (St Mary's) and photographed places of interest. Consequently, I'm not quite sure that I'll do tomorrow, but I'm sure I can work something out.
I came back to the hostel at 2pm to put my stuff into my room. The room is called "The Library": newspaper and magazines have been used in place of wallpaper, and there are shelves of old Polish books lining the walls. I quite like it. It's definitely a pity that I had to take a top bunk. I used the free internet for a little while, to let A know that I arrived here intact, and replied to emails from both L and Sd. Then I went out again and wandered more. First, I went to the post office to pick up my Polrail train tickets, which were waiting as a Post Restante letter. Then, I managed to post back to Germany a few items of clothing that I don't want to potentially destroy here. The post office wasn't where my emailed map from Polrail said it would be (in fact, it was actually in the main rail station building). There were some language difficulties but I got there in the end. It's definitely good that I'm so stubborn, but I hate addressing someone when I don't know their language. Either way, it got posted, and I have my tickets.
I walked to the Monument to Fallen Shipyard Workers and took a lot of photos, and then had a slow wander back through town. I found some outside fruit and veg markets where I bought white cherries with a red blush across their skin, plus a few nectarines. I ate them whilst sitting in the sun, and then came back here to the hostel. I talked to an Australian roommate for a while, found a book in English, and wrote here. For the record, the book is "A Good Scent from a Strange Mountain" by Robert Olen Butler, and it's a collection of stories, each written in a Vietnamese voice, regarding the aftermath of the war; new lives, new countries, new rules. It's an awesome book, so I'm planning on posting it home so that Mum can read it. I think she'll like it. Anyway, it's 10 past 8 here, and I'm exhausted, definitely ready for bed. I know it's early, but I think I might just have to bite the bullet.
Monday, July 19, 2010
Now I'm going to talk about food.
I just figured I'd adjust this blog with a good post, seeing as how I was mighty sour in the last one. I'm like that, so it's not like I'd bother to apologise or remove the post (especially as how it's highly unlikely that anyone in question will find it)... we're all allowed to be sour sometimes.
So, speaking of sour, on my way home from uni today I bought a 500g tub of red currants! I even got a photo of them, set against my lovely red sheets (more on that later) under a nice ray of sunshine. I'm such a sucker for berries. I guess that having lived in Adelaide for the past two and half decades has that effect on someone like me. Sure, we get strawberries -they're much harder (texturally) than the ones I find here, which are delicately on the verge of mush. And they've got a little more tang in the flavour, probably from having been picked considerably earlier. It's only a pity that so many are grown hydroponically, which is both convenient for mid-Winter strawberry cravings and inconvenient when those cravings require the strawberries to actually have some flavour. But I digress...
Before I forget, a word on the sheets: I don't know if I've already discussed this, but bed linen here seems considerably different to at home. I certainly haven't been able to find a flat sheet anyway, so it's time to either stoop to shufling through the sheets at Real, or worse, actually splashing out good money at one of the exorbitantly priced homeware-type stores around town. Evidently people are just happy to wash their quilt cover on a regular occasion? But I'm not quite sure what they do when the weather is in the mid-30s, as has been happening lately with this year's freak weather patterns. I like to sleep covered - it's something that I've always preferred, even when I was a child and we had no air-conditioning. (Hm, no wonder Summers always seemed hotter when I was a child!) So when it started to heat up here, with no fan and no airconditioning, I was forced to sleep without quilt. Needless to say, between the weather and the lack of covers, I've been sleeping pretty poorly for the past week or so. It's a little better now, but I still wake up at least once in the middle of the night for no apparent reason, and it's still awfully hard to get out of bed in the morning.
Which leads me to my next tangent: running. Because it's going to be awfully hard to get out of bed tomorrow morning. I went for a jog today, because my weight is getting to the serious point where I'm having to squeeze into my jeans. And honestly, not only do I not want to have these extra 5kg around my waist (it sure as hell hasn't gone anywhere useful, I'll tell you that!) but I don't want to have to buy new clothes. So it's about time I got off my backside and got active again. I never realised how much I'd miss my pilates and yoga at the WEA. I should send Letitia a postcard... I'll put it on my to-do list.
So, back to my rant on bed linen. Standard quilts here are actually designed to be smaller than one's bed, so as to necessitate a second when one has company. (Get stuffed, I'm not buying two quilts! And I'm a notorious quilt thief... good thing I like being single, or I'd have some serious problems.) I just find the whole system so very German. Quite proper, indeed. And let's not get me started on my overpriced pillow, which has conveniently flattened itself out, to the point where I'm actually contemplating the trip to Bielefeld Ikea in order to buy more stuffing... all this for a normal pillow as opposed to one of those European ones so large it takes up half the bed and yet so soft that it's like not using a pillow at all... oh, my.
So, my day was filled with things other than taking photos of berries that match my linen. German class was actually pretty awesome this morning. We have a substitute teacher for four days this week and I really enjoyed her teaching methods. We're learning prateritum, which she admits is boring, and yet I still managed to have more fun in one day than I've had in the last week of German classes. I'm probably going to be mildly devestated when she leaves. Plus we had a bunch of people not show up today, which meant that I actually learned something. Many things, now that I stop to think about it. I'm really not enjoying the large group. I just don't learn anything, and my attempts to study at home are absolute rubbish. It's so much easier to just learn things in class... end lament.
So, this evening I went to Marktkauf. As if I haven't given that place enough money lately! Another 20 Euros gone, simply because St told me they had soy yoghurt on sale. (They did, and believe me, I stocked up.) The amount of soymilk I've gone through lately is phenomenal. Probably also has something to do with the amount of coffee I've been drinking (hello, stovetop espresso!) and the vast amount of oats & fruit I've been eating. Today's breakfast was the standard quick-cooking oats mixed with rolled spelt grains with fruit-of-the-moment persimmons and a drizzle of honey. I probably shouldn't buy something like rolled spelt too often (let's compare nearly 1.80 for 500g to 25c for the same amount of oats) but I'm actually in love with the taste. It would go incredibly well with dark chocolate... but that's a thought to save for another occasion. One where I'm not so concerned about fitting into my jeans.
At Marktkauf I also caved in and bought another two avocados, to feed my current addiction. At this rate, I'm not going to have any money left for when my sister comes to visit... I think a 30c discount on these avocados has spun into a 30 euro addiction. Which, in that I've probably already about 8-10 of them, means I still have 5-7 avocadoes left. Good! They're not stringy for once, and they're huuuge. We'll pretend I don't eat a whole avocado every day, and we'll even overlook the fact that sometimes I just eat them with a teaspoon (not forgetting the sprinkling of salt). I'd like to curb this food obsession, but realistically, it's not going to happen. I just need to go for a jog when I get up for a stretch from reading my blog roll, instead of going to the kitchen for a cup of tea and a snack. We all have our vices... it's just that most of mine can be found in a large supermarket.
So, the point of writing this entire post was to avoid doing my German homework. Sadly, I'm a pretty fast typer, though I only wish I could keep up with my thoughts... but what that means is that I've had my fill of rambling, yet still have time to do my homework before my ridiculously early bedtime. I swear I'll eventually get around to posting my entries from Poland and the Czech Rep... eventually. Not to mention all the photos that I need to get off of my camera... and the ones that I took off my camera at Mi's house... and finding some nice ones to email to my parents... why is a day only 24 hours?! I wish it was longer so that I could actually get something done, as well as having ample time to sleep. I'll add that to my list of unrealistic daydreams and get to learning some more verbs... today I introduced the class to "schwitzen". It's good to know I'm such an over-achiever here... ha!
So, speaking of sour, on my way home from uni today I bought a 500g tub of red currants! I even got a photo of them, set against my lovely red sheets (more on that later) under a nice ray of sunshine. I'm such a sucker for berries. I guess that having lived in Adelaide for the past two and half decades has that effect on someone like me. Sure, we get strawberries -they're much harder (texturally) than the ones I find here, which are delicately on the verge of mush. And they've got a little more tang in the flavour, probably from having been picked considerably earlier. It's only a pity that so many are grown hydroponically, which is both convenient for mid-Winter strawberry cravings and inconvenient when those cravings require the strawberries to actually have some flavour. But I digress...
Before I forget, a word on the sheets: I don't know if I've already discussed this, but bed linen here seems considerably different to at home. I certainly haven't been able to find a flat sheet anyway, so it's time to either stoop to shufling through the sheets at Real, or worse, actually splashing out good money at one of the exorbitantly priced homeware-type stores around town. Evidently people are just happy to wash their quilt cover on a regular occasion? But I'm not quite sure what they do when the weather is in the mid-30s, as has been happening lately with this year's freak weather patterns. I like to sleep covered - it's something that I've always preferred, even when I was a child and we had no air-conditioning. (Hm, no wonder Summers always seemed hotter when I was a child!) So when it started to heat up here, with no fan and no airconditioning, I was forced to sleep without quilt. Needless to say, between the weather and the lack of covers, I've been sleeping pretty poorly for the past week or so. It's a little better now, but I still wake up at least once in the middle of the night for no apparent reason, and it's still awfully hard to get out of bed in the morning.
Which leads me to my next tangent: running. Because it's going to be awfully hard to get out of bed tomorrow morning. I went for a jog today, because my weight is getting to the serious point where I'm having to squeeze into my jeans. And honestly, not only do I not want to have these extra 5kg around my waist (it sure as hell hasn't gone anywhere useful, I'll tell you that!) but I don't want to have to buy new clothes. So it's about time I got off my backside and got active again. I never realised how much I'd miss my pilates and yoga at the WEA. I should send Letitia a postcard... I'll put it on my to-do list.
So, back to my rant on bed linen. Standard quilts here are actually designed to be smaller than one's bed, so as to necessitate a second when one has company. (Get stuffed, I'm not buying two quilts! And I'm a notorious quilt thief... good thing I like being single, or I'd have some serious problems.) I just find the whole system so very German. Quite proper, indeed. And let's not get me started on my overpriced pillow, which has conveniently flattened itself out, to the point where I'm actually contemplating the trip to Bielefeld Ikea in order to buy more stuffing... all this for a normal pillow as opposed to one of those European ones so large it takes up half the bed and yet so soft that it's like not using a pillow at all... oh, my.
So, my day was filled with things other than taking photos of berries that match my linen. German class was actually pretty awesome this morning. We have a substitute teacher for four days this week and I really enjoyed her teaching methods. We're learning prateritum, which she admits is boring, and yet I still managed to have more fun in one day than I've had in the last week of German classes. I'm probably going to be mildly devestated when she leaves. Plus we had a bunch of people not show up today, which meant that I actually learned something. Many things, now that I stop to think about it. I'm really not enjoying the large group. I just don't learn anything, and my attempts to study at home are absolute rubbish. It's so much easier to just learn things in class... end lament.
So, this evening I went to Marktkauf. As if I haven't given that place enough money lately! Another 20 Euros gone, simply because St told me they had soy yoghurt on sale. (They did, and believe me, I stocked up.) The amount of soymilk I've gone through lately is phenomenal. Probably also has something to do with the amount of coffee I've been drinking (hello, stovetop espresso!) and the vast amount of oats & fruit I've been eating. Today's breakfast was the standard quick-cooking oats mixed with rolled spelt grains with fruit-of-the-moment persimmons and a drizzle of honey. I probably shouldn't buy something like rolled spelt too often (let's compare nearly 1.80 for 500g to 25c for the same amount of oats) but I'm actually in love with the taste. It would go incredibly well with dark chocolate... but that's a thought to save for another occasion. One where I'm not so concerned about fitting into my jeans.
At Marktkauf I also caved in and bought another two avocados, to feed my current addiction. At this rate, I'm not going to have any money left for when my sister comes to visit... I think a 30c discount on these avocados has spun into a 30 euro addiction. Which, in that I've probably already about 8-10 of them, means I still have 5-7 avocadoes left. Good! They're not stringy for once, and they're huuuge. We'll pretend I don't eat a whole avocado every day, and we'll even overlook the fact that sometimes I just eat them with a teaspoon (not forgetting the sprinkling of salt). I'd like to curb this food obsession, but realistically, it's not going to happen. I just need to go for a jog when I get up for a stretch from reading my blog roll, instead of going to the kitchen for a cup of tea and a snack. We all have our vices... it's just that most of mine can be found in a large supermarket.
So, the point of writing this entire post was to avoid doing my German homework. Sadly, I'm a pretty fast typer, though I only wish I could keep up with my thoughts... but what that means is that I've had my fill of rambling, yet still have time to do my homework before my ridiculously early bedtime. I swear I'll eventually get around to posting my entries from Poland and the Czech Rep... eventually. Not to mention all the photos that I need to get off of my camera... and the ones that I took off my camera at Mi's house... and finding some nice ones to email to my parents... why is a day only 24 hours?! I wish it was longer so that I could actually get something done, as well as having ample time to sleep. I'll add that to my list of unrealistic daydreams and get to learning some more verbs... today I introduced the class to "schwitzen". It's good to know I'm such an over-achiever here... ha!
Sure, the composition is pretty terrible, but you have to accept that the subject matter is still pretty damn good. :)
Sunday, July 18, 2010
A word of warning...
... I'm in a bad mood. With that out the way, I can now continue to explain what I've actually been doing with my time since I last wrote. What I sadly haven't done is write up my entries from the Poland trip, but I'll get around to it this week. I hope.
So, from last time I wrote. The German course was Friday as well, which was marginally better than Thursday, but admittedly, still sucked. I went home and mucked around in my room for a bit (read: I read my blog roll instead of cleaning) and eventually put on some rice to cook, to make sushi. Finally used that packet of sushi rice that's been sitting in my pantry for ages. It's a pity I used it on exchange students, but whatever, making sushi is fun! I made corn fritters to use as filling because they're so much better than just using the kernels - they've got that extra salty crunch that only comes from something fried. And they're delicious. Sd came around and really just watched me make the sushi rolls... I told him he was there to entertain me while I worked. He shyed away from trying to make one until the last roll, when he finally saved into peer pressure (mine) and managed a sushi roll. Sure, it was a bit messy, but not too bad for a first attempt. It was only going to be eaten by the Erasmus group, anyway, so I didn't much care. He went home to get changed and I made some more rolls and got ready for the party; aka, made sure I looked presentable. The day had been hot so it was nice to have a shower afterwards. I'm not used to such sticky heat.
Anyway, I can't say much about the party. I wasn't there for very long, thankfully, because I was bored. I felt like whenever I was with Sd, a lot of people I'd usually talk to wouldn't come up and say hello. I can understand what Mi was saying about that, now, but I still don't really get why. Anyway, I sampled bits of various food, felt rather sick at the end of it, and was pleased to finally go. We didn't stick around to hear whose food was voted the best. We'd just missed a bus and didn't feel like waiting 55 minutes for another, so we walked instead. Note to self: never trust Sd with directions. He told me he knew where he was going, but managed to take us on the longest possible route to get back. I was tired and honestly just felt like screaming, or better, curling up on the median strip and getting some sleep. He insisted on walking me home, which I guess is a nice move, but I really just wanted some alone time. He actually walked directly past his own house to walk me home. So it was nice to be home, on my own, and just fall into bed. Really, it was an unspectacular night.
Funnily enough, a few days later I received an email from Eurobiz (one of their group mails) to say that significant amounts of damage had been done to the place and they were expected to pay a 360 Euro fine. Apparently furniture was broken, chair were thrown into the neighbours' yard, and the KFC next door had reported their damage to the police. Eurobiz were politely saying they weren't going to point fingers, but would like all exchange students to chip in 5 Euro to cover the damage. Um, hello? Not fucking likely. As if I'm going to dig into my pocket to contribute to a terrible party that I'd already paid to attend, not to mention brought a large volume of food to. I think they should have pointed the finger at the idiots who got wasted and trashed the place. Hell, I think they should have told the police. No matter how drunk you are, it's never acceptable to start destroying things for your own amusement. So, really, I think they should have made the right people pay and left everyone else alone. I think a few people probably feel the same, which would be why I've gotten a second group email about everyone chipping in... ha. Just bite the bullet and abuse the kids who did it, and maybe then you'll get someone to cough up some cash. Or maybe I'm just getting old and sour. Probably both. ;)
Anyway, Saturday and Sunday I finally had the opportunity to have some down time. I'd told Sd that I was getting suffocated by being friends with him and needed more space, that I don't want to hang out with the same person all the time, and he respected that. So I finally caught up on my blog roll (which has grown to 54 blogs followed), drank lots of tea, and cleaned my room. Hell, I even cleaned the bathroom and the kitchen for good measure, because I wasn't convinced that they'd been cleaned during my absence. So I finally felt like I was home again, and it was good.
On Monday the German class started again, and we met our second teacher - she seems pretty nice. Monday night I ate too much and then went for a walk. I didn't feel like going out to the Spanish night, which prompted a call from Sd, who didn't understand that I just wanted my own space. Ugh. Last week just blurred into one day, really. Tuesday our class finally lost the five students who belonged in Mittelstufe, and whoa, was I glad about it. After the pause we had just six in the class, which was actually pretty brilliant. Unfortunately, on Wednesday the remnants of the other G2 class joined ours, which left us with 18. Frankly, while it's nice to have new people, 18 is far too many. Most exercises don't have 18 examples, so chances are people miss out. And we're never allowed the time to do exercises by ourselves, which honestly just means that I'm not learning. I can't learn from hearing things: I have to do them myself, in a reading-based format. So when other people answer before I've decided what my answer would be, it's pretty useless as a form of education. I have a feeling I'm going to have to actually start studying this term. It'll certainly be the first time in my university education that I've needed to do so.
So, at some point this week, possibly Tuesday night, I told Sd that I wasn't happy with hanging out so much and that I just wanted to be alone sometimes. He has no concept of "space". Even my best friends at home are people I don't see every day, so the idea of hanging out constantly with one friend here is just roo much. We don't even have anything in common, and he's just not a good friend like other people are. It took him a pretty long time to get the picture, which probably wasn't helped by my mediocre German. But I managed in the end, and I thought that he'd finally understood what I was trying to say. I've since reconsidered, because he still wants to hang out constantly, but after tonight I think maybe he gets it a bit more. But I'll get around to that.
So, every day I had German class. Monday and Tuesday I was lazy and ate in the Mensa, which was enough to put me off of their food for another few weeks at least. Otherwise I was enjoying having time to hang out by myself. On Thursday C took photos of me with a few other people in our class, for use in various propagandha by the International Office. I was the token white girl, which amused me to no end. I hope the photos end up being used somewhere, even if I'm not photogenic, simply because it would be funny.
On Friday afternoon I got a call from Sd, sounding kinda concerned, and asking if he could come over. So I said yes, thinking that something was wrong. And it turns out that nothing was, but I'd just worried for 45 minutes (he took ages to arrive) for no reason. The truth of it was that he'd missed me, and was speaking about it with B, and she told him that he should just call me. So we hung out and chatted for a bit, and established that we were going to still be friends and that everything was ok, but that I just really didn't want to hang out so often. So I felt pretty glad about that. I guess he just panicked, thinking that we weren't going to hang out and that he'd be lonely. Kinda understandable when you're so far away from home.
Anyway, the real highlight of the week was Saturday. I got up later than usual (probably 8am, what a shock!) and ate breakfast, etc. before catching a train to Munster. There, I met up with Mt and T and their kids, for the train to Rheine. It sounds like they've had a hellish beginning to their year here, but they're definitely troopers and have managed to survive it this far, to their credit. I certainly couldn't survive in a two-room apartment with 4 other family members. So it's a pretty admirable feat, though I'm glad to hear that they've got another place lined up. It'll be a relief for everyone, I'm sure. Anyway, it was absolutely brilliant to see them, and to catch up on what's been happening. I didn't really have anything interesting to say, because really, life here is pretty quiet. But that's ok with me for the moment, while I'm definitely needing some space.
Anyway, H and her husband picked us up from the train station in Rheine. Their house is gorgeous, kept in the traditional style, and with a stunning backyard. They've got fruit trees and red currant bushes, the latter keeping the kids pretty well occupied. I probably would have joined them, being something of a berry fiend myself, except that the possibility of adult conversation in fluent English was simply too good to resist! Honestly, it was brilliant. I didn't realise how much I missed having discussions about anything other than the life I'm living, because that's all I seem to talk about here in Pb. I have friends here, but they're not the sort of friends with whom I can transcend daily life - they're not like my friends in Adelaide. So really it was just completely refreshing to talk about issues that don't directly relate to me. Plus I was seated at a table with four very interesting people, which always helps!
H and Ma had really outdone themselves with the lunch. There were grilled rounds of zucchini and eggplant, strewn with salt and oregano, which were my personal favourite. I'm a sucker for eggplant! There was a Spanish tortilla, made according to Jesus's recipe, which meant that it was absolutely delicious. Sacrelicious, perhaps. Plus Moroccan-style carrots, a green salad, and slices of baguette with a delicious garlicky sundried tomato dip. Followed by apricot teacake with a sprinkled sugar crust... oh, divine. Finding good apricots is always such a ray of sunshine, because none ever live up to the ones I feasted on in the summers of my childhood. And these were perfect; sweet, rich, collapsed fruit under a layer of soft vanilla cake. I know that I'm not supposed to eat these things, but really, it's worth the later stomachache!
Ma spoke to me about potentially helping out somehow with a course he takes next semester. The topic is Australian English, so hopefully I can be of some use... I've got his email address so I'll write tomorrow for some further information, but it sounds pretty awesome. And it would definitely look good to be able to say I've worked for the Uni Pb. But honestly, I'm just interested in what the topic material is, because I'd like to know more about the language I speak, and why it's different from other peoples' English. And why people from far-North Queensland speak with the most awful accent in the country... save anyone who has come from New Zealand, of course. ;)
About 5pm we headed back. I was able to transfer directly to a train to Hamm, and then only have a 15 min wait for my Pb train to leave, so my journey back was pretty swift. I was tired, so sms'd Sd to ask if it was ok to postpone dinner until today. He agreed, so I got to crawl into bed early, and really, I couldn't have asked to a better end to an awesome day. I finally got a good sleep, only waking up once, so I woke up feeling pretty awesome this morning. I stayed in bed until 7:30am, even! And then I did some laundry, etc. Checked lots of things on the internet, talked to A, and emailed J our potential itinerary for December's travels. I'm so excited about travels... it's going to cost a fortune, which already has me in a state of mild heart attack, but I'm sure the parents will lend me some more money. Something like going skiing with my sister in the Swiss Alps and staying at an Ice Hotel in far northern Sweden are something that will only come once in a lifetime.
So, I spoke with Sd around lunchtime, and he said he was hungry. I told him to eat something, because dinner wasn't going to be until after 6pm. Of course, when he showed up, he was complaining that he was hungry, because he hadn't eaten anything. I offered him something to snack on, but he declined. Then, while I was cooking, he proceeded to complain that he was hungry, and actually had the nerve to ask why the food wasn't ready, waiting for him, when he arrived. I told him I wasn't his goddamn wife and he could wait. I just thought that was so damn rude! And I asked why he hadn't ducked into the city to get something to eat, because it's only a 15-minute journey by foot each way. And he said something about not having time, which was completely a lie, because he'd been in the library all afternoon. I honestly began to think he was just stupid. He's not, but honestly, sometimes he's pretty clueless.
Part way through dinner it became clear that we'd run out of things to say. It was painful, awkward silence. He said he found it funny when we had miscommunication, and I said I hated it. I can't think of anything worse, because I'm not a patient person, and I lose my cool when I have to explain myself over again. It makes me think that the other person isn't listening in the first place. I eventually told him that he was acting like we were a couple and that it made me feel uncomfortable, and that maybe I should just do some study that evening. He took the hint and left, and I was so glad to see him go. I was still angry about the whole thing. I just don't want to see him every day, and he doesn't seem to get that at all. And hey, if someone else is cooking me dinner, I'd shut up and be appreciative. He's never cooked anything for me, so I don't see why he was complaining. I'm still angry about it.
Anyway, I think that's enough venting for now. I'm going to just give up on today and go to bed. I think it's the best way to deal with it.
So, from last time I wrote. The German course was Friday as well, which was marginally better than Thursday, but admittedly, still sucked. I went home and mucked around in my room for a bit (read: I read my blog roll instead of cleaning) and eventually put on some rice to cook, to make sushi. Finally used that packet of sushi rice that's been sitting in my pantry for ages. It's a pity I used it on exchange students, but whatever, making sushi is fun! I made corn fritters to use as filling because they're so much better than just using the kernels - they've got that extra salty crunch that only comes from something fried. And they're delicious. Sd came around and really just watched me make the sushi rolls... I told him he was there to entertain me while I worked. He shyed away from trying to make one until the last roll, when he finally saved into peer pressure (mine) and managed a sushi roll. Sure, it was a bit messy, but not too bad for a first attempt. It was only going to be eaten by the Erasmus group, anyway, so I didn't much care. He went home to get changed and I made some more rolls and got ready for the party; aka, made sure I looked presentable. The day had been hot so it was nice to have a shower afterwards. I'm not used to such sticky heat.
Anyway, I can't say much about the party. I wasn't there for very long, thankfully, because I was bored. I felt like whenever I was with Sd, a lot of people I'd usually talk to wouldn't come up and say hello. I can understand what Mi was saying about that, now, but I still don't really get why. Anyway, I sampled bits of various food, felt rather sick at the end of it, and was pleased to finally go. We didn't stick around to hear whose food was voted the best. We'd just missed a bus and didn't feel like waiting 55 minutes for another, so we walked instead. Note to self: never trust Sd with directions. He told me he knew where he was going, but managed to take us on the longest possible route to get back. I was tired and honestly just felt like screaming, or better, curling up on the median strip and getting some sleep. He insisted on walking me home, which I guess is a nice move, but I really just wanted some alone time. He actually walked directly past his own house to walk me home. So it was nice to be home, on my own, and just fall into bed. Really, it was an unspectacular night.
Funnily enough, a few days later I received an email from Eurobiz (one of their group mails) to say that significant amounts of damage had been done to the place and they were expected to pay a 360 Euro fine. Apparently furniture was broken, chair were thrown into the neighbours' yard, and the KFC next door had reported their damage to the police. Eurobiz were politely saying they weren't going to point fingers, but would like all exchange students to chip in 5 Euro to cover the damage. Um, hello? Not fucking likely. As if I'm going to dig into my pocket to contribute to a terrible party that I'd already paid to attend, not to mention brought a large volume of food to. I think they should have pointed the finger at the idiots who got wasted and trashed the place. Hell, I think they should have told the police. No matter how drunk you are, it's never acceptable to start destroying things for your own amusement. So, really, I think they should have made the right people pay and left everyone else alone. I think a few people probably feel the same, which would be why I've gotten a second group email about everyone chipping in... ha. Just bite the bullet and abuse the kids who did it, and maybe then you'll get someone to cough up some cash. Or maybe I'm just getting old and sour. Probably both. ;)
Anyway, Saturday and Sunday I finally had the opportunity to have some down time. I'd told Sd that I was getting suffocated by being friends with him and needed more space, that I don't want to hang out with the same person all the time, and he respected that. So I finally caught up on my blog roll (which has grown to 54 blogs followed), drank lots of tea, and cleaned my room. Hell, I even cleaned the bathroom and the kitchen for good measure, because I wasn't convinced that they'd been cleaned during my absence. So I finally felt like I was home again, and it was good.
On Monday the German class started again, and we met our second teacher - she seems pretty nice. Monday night I ate too much and then went for a walk. I didn't feel like going out to the Spanish night, which prompted a call from Sd, who didn't understand that I just wanted my own space. Ugh. Last week just blurred into one day, really. Tuesday our class finally lost the five students who belonged in Mittelstufe, and whoa, was I glad about it. After the pause we had just six in the class, which was actually pretty brilliant. Unfortunately, on Wednesday the remnants of the other G2 class joined ours, which left us with 18. Frankly, while it's nice to have new people, 18 is far too many. Most exercises don't have 18 examples, so chances are people miss out. And we're never allowed the time to do exercises by ourselves, which honestly just means that I'm not learning. I can't learn from hearing things: I have to do them myself, in a reading-based format. So when other people answer before I've decided what my answer would be, it's pretty useless as a form of education. I have a feeling I'm going to have to actually start studying this term. It'll certainly be the first time in my university education that I've needed to do so.
So, at some point this week, possibly Tuesday night, I told Sd that I wasn't happy with hanging out so much and that I just wanted to be alone sometimes. He has no concept of "space". Even my best friends at home are people I don't see every day, so the idea of hanging out constantly with one friend here is just roo much. We don't even have anything in common, and he's just not a good friend like other people are. It took him a pretty long time to get the picture, which probably wasn't helped by my mediocre German. But I managed in the end, and I thought that he'd finally understood what I was trying to say. I've since reconsidered, because he still wants to hang out constantly, but after tonight I think maybe he gets it a bit more. But I'll get around to that.
So, every day I had German class. Monday and Tuesday I was lazy and ate in the Mensa, which was enough to put me off of their food for another few weeks at least. Otherwise I was enjoying having time to hang out by myself. On Thursday C took photos of me with a few other people in our class, for use in various propagandha by the International Office. I was the token white girl, which amused me to no end. I hope the photos end up being used somewhere, even if I'm not photogenic, simply because it would be funny.
On Friday afternoon I got a call from Sd, sounding kinda concerned, and asking if he could come over. So I said yes, thinking that something was wrong. And it turns out that nothing was, but I'd just worried for 45 minutes (he took ages to arrive) for no reason. The truth of it was that he'd missed me, and was speaking about it with B, and she told him that he should just call me. So we hung out and chatted for a bit, and established that we were going to still be friends and that everything was ok, but that I just really didn't want to hang out so often. So I felt pretty glad about that. I guess he just panicked, thinking that we weren't going to hang out and that he'd be lonely. Kinda understandable when you're so far away from home.
Anyway, the real highlight of the week was Saturday. I got up later than usual (probably 8am, what a shock!) and ate breakfast, etc. before catching a train to Munster. There, I met up with Mt and T and their kids, for the train to Rheine. It sounds like they've had a hellish beginning to their year here, but they're definitely troopers and have managed to survive it this far, to their credit. I certainly couldn't survive in a two-room apartment with 4 other family members. So it's a pretty admirable feat, though I'm glad to hear that they've got another place lined up. It'll be a relief for everyone, I'm sure. Anyway, it was absolutely brilliant to see them, and to catch up on what's been happening. I didn't really have anything interesting to say, because really, life here is pretty quiet. But that's ok with me for the moment, while I'm definitely needing some space.
Anyway, H and her husband picked us up from the train station in Rheine. Their house is gorgeous, kept in the traditional style, and with a stunning backyard. They've got fruit trees and red currant bushes, the latter keeping the kids pretty well occupied. I probably would have joined them, being something of a berry fiend myself, except that the possibility of adult conversation in fluent English was simply too good to resist! Honestly, it was brilliant. I didn't realise how much I missed having discussions about anything other than the life I'm living, because that's all I seem to talk about here in Pb. I have friends here, but they're not the sort of friends with whom I can transcend daily life - they're not like my friends in Adelaide. So really it was just completely refreshing to talk about issues that don't directly relate to me. Plus I was seated at a table with four very interesting people, which always helps!
H and Ma had really outdone themselves with the lunch. There were grilled rounds of zucchini and eggplant, strewn with salt and oregano, which were my personal favourite. I'm a sucker for eggplant! There was a Spanish tortilla, made according to Jesus's recipe, which meant that it was absolutely delicious. Sacrelicious, perhaps. Plus Moroccan-style carrots, a green salad, and slices of baguette with a delicious garlicky sundried tomato dip. Followed by apricot teacake with a sprinkled sugar crust... oh, divine. Finding good apricots is always such a ray of sunshine, because none ever live up to the ones I feasted on in the summers of my childhood. And these were perfect; sweet, rich, collapsed fruit under a layer of soft vanilla cake. I know that I'm not supposed to eat these things, but really, it's worth the later stomachache!
Ma spoke to me about potentially helping out somehow with a course he takes next semester. The topic is Australian English, so hopefully I can be of some use... I've got his email address so I'll write tomorrow for some further information, but it sounds pretty awesome. And it would definitely look good to be able to say I've worked for the Uni Pb. But honestly, I'm just interested in what the topic material is, because I'd like to know more about the language I speak, and why it's different from other peoples' English. And why people from far-North Queensland speak with the most awful accent in the country... save anyone who has come from New Zealand, of course. ;)
About 5pm we headed back. I was able to transfer directly to a train to Hamm, and then only have a 15 min wait for my Pb train to leave, so my journey back was pretty swift. I was tired, so sms'd Sd to ask if it was ok to postpone dinner until today. He agreed, so I got to crawl into bed early, and really, I couldn't have asked to a better end to an awesome day. I finally got a good sleep, only waking up once, so I woke up feeling pretty awesome this morning. I stayed in bed until 7:30am, even! And then I did some laundry, etc. Checked lots of things on the internet, talked to A, and emailed J our potential itinerary for December's travels. I'm so excited about travels... it's going to cost a fortune, which already has me in a state of mild heart attack, but I'm sure the parents will lend me some more money. Something like going skiing with my sister in the Swiss Alps and staying at an Ice Hotel in far northern Sweden are something that will only come once in a lifetime.
So, I spoke with Sd around lunchtime, and he said he was hungry. I told him to eat something, because dinner wasn't going to be until after 6pm. Of course, when he showed up, he was complaining that he was hungry, because he hadn't eaten anything. I offered him something to snack on, but he declined. Then, while I was cooking, he proceeded to complain that he was hungry, and actually had the nerve to ask why the food wasn't ready, waiting for him, when he arrived. I told him I wasn't his goddamn wife and he could wait. I just thought that was so damn rude! And I asked why he hadn't ducked into the city to get something to eat, because it's only a 15-minute journey by foot each way. And he said something about not having time, which was completely a lie, because he'd been in the library all afternoon. I honestly began to think he was just stupid. He's not, but honestly, sometimes he's pretty clueless.
Part way through dinner it became clear that we'd run out of things to say. It was painful, awkward silence. He said he found it funny when we had miscommunication, and I said I hated it. I can't think of anything worse, because I'm not a patient person, and I lose my cool when I have to explain myself over again. It makes me think that the other person isn't listening in the first place. I eventually told him that he was acting like we were a couple and that it made me feel uncomfortable, and that maybe I should just do some study that evening. He took the hint and left, and I was so glad to see him go. I was still angry about the whole thing. I just don't want to see him every day, and he doesn't seem to get that at all. And hey, if someone else is cooking me dinner, I'd shut up and be appreciative. He's never cooked anything for me, so I don't see why he was complaining. I'm still angry about it.
Anyway, I think that's enough venting for now. I'm going to just give up on today and go to bed. I think it's the best way to deal with it.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
King of the Gutters, Prince of the Dogs.
So, I know I still haven't gotten around to posting what I wrote while I was in Poland and the Czech Republic, but I figured I'd write a quick update now and post in those later. Not that anyone reads this, so really, it doesn't matter.
I'm tired and not in the greatest mood. Today was the first day of the German Course - I'm in G2 (Grundstufe Zwei) now. In our class, lots of people were missing, but we had at least 4 people who said they've completed the equivalent with another course and are too good to be with us. Which is great for them, but I don't think they realised how much they were putting down those of us who really belong at that level. The first exercise we did was way too hard and I had no idea about any of the words. It was just painful. After the break things were a little better, but it was still the same couple of people talking, and I didn't open my mouth if I could help it. I don't want them to hear my bad grammar. And I don't want the new teacher to see that I suck even after finishing G1. Too much stress right now...
C is in my course, so I might finally stop ignoring him... seeing as I think that since today he's finally stopped ignoring me. About time.
Anyway, after the course I had lunch in the Mensa with Sd. Then I went to Rewe to buy a few things for the 'bring-a-plate' component of tomorrow's farewell for Erasmus students. I'm going to mark Sushi. Sd is apparently going to help. We'll see. Anyway, when I was in Rewe I missed a call from him. Turns out he didn't have to work after all so he met me there and we came back here. Hung out for a while, then he had a sleep and I made a cake with red currants. (Well, I made two cakes, but I've already eaten half of one. Definite eating control issues.) He woke up really tired and in a bad mood, so we hung out and had tea and cake in the kitchen, but it wasn't any fun. I was glad when he left. Plus, I habe Deutsch Hausaufgabe zu tun. Schlimm.
So, yesterday I did two loads of laundry, which should be dry now, because today the weather was 30 degrees. Nice. I ate way too much for dinner (soft tacos, then using some of the extra torillas like crepes with sweet filling). Yesterday I was glad to be home. Now I'm wishing I was anywhere else. I want out.
I'm tired and not in the greatest mood. Today was the first day of the German Course - I'm in G2 (Grundstufe Zwei) now. In our class, lots of people were missing, but we had at least 4 people who said they've completed the equivalent with another course and are too good to be with us. Which is great for them, but I don't think they realised how much they were putting down those of us who really belong at that level. The first exercise we did was way too hard and I had no idea about any of the words. It was just painful. After the break things were a little better, but it was still the same couple of people talking, and I didn't open my mouth if I could help it. I don't want them to hear my bad grammar. And I don't want the new teacher to see that I suck even after finishing G1. Too much stress right now...
C is in my course, so I might finally stop ignoring him... seeing as I think that since today he's finally stopped ignoring me. About time.
Anyway, after the course I had lunch in the Mensa with Sd. Then I went to Rewe to buy a few things for the 'bring-a-plate' component of tomorrow's farewell for Erasmus students. I'm going to mark Sushi. Sd is apparently going to help. We'll see. Anyway, when I was in Rewe I missed a call from him. Turns out he didn't have to work after all so he met me there and we came back here. Hung out for a while, then he had a sleep and I made a cake with red currants. (Well, I made two cakes, but I've already eaten half of one. Definite eating control issues.) He woke up really tired and in a bad mood, so we hung out and had tea and cake in the kitchen, but it wasn't any fun. I was glad when he left. Plus, I habe Deutsch Hausaufgabe zu tun. Schlimm.
So, yesterday I did two loads of laundry, which should be dry now, because today the weather was 30 degrees. Nice. I ate way too much for dinner (soft tacos, then using some of the extra torillas like crepes with sweet filling). Yesterday I was glad to be home. Now I'm wishing I was anywhere else. I want out.
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