Get Thee to a Nunnery!

Just read that throughout the years, Regensburg has played host to at least 6 monasteries. Well no wonder I see my daily nun! Duh. We’ve had Benedictine monasteries, Carolinian, Dominican, Minorite, Scottish-Benedictine (and how that’s different from Regular Benedictine I have no idea,) and even one that was kind of a dorm for wealthy old women. Now I have yet to research what makes an abbey different from a monastery different from a cloister, but I will. This is gonna be an on-going process, I have a feeling.

Regensburg truly has a volatile history when it comes to religion. Tim and I are actively trying to piece all of this together, but it’s difficult to get the big picture. From what we understand, Regensburg was Catholic before the Reformation, then became Lutheran shortly thereafter (so we’re in the middle 1500s now.) Actually the Duke-type people in Regensburg had a pretty major part in igniting the Thirty Years War (1618-1648), even though the conditions were ripening for some time before it. (Side note: Tim read Germany lost a third of its population during the war because most battles were fought on German soil. That and the fact that the plague had outbreaks as well.) After the war, the city went back and forth from being Protestant to Catholic often, depending on the beliefs of the reigning Prince. How’d you like that? Today you’re Protestant, tomorrow Catholic. Even the clergy had to change, or choose to leave the city.

Unfortunately, Jews have been persecuted here since the dawn of time too, like so many places we’ve visited in Europe. It seems that Christians were not allowed to lend money, so in time of need, they would borrow from the Jews. When the debt could no longer be paid, the answer was simply to run the Jews out of town. And thus, the debt was cleared. Gives you a little insight into some history well before our years, doesn't it?

On a much lighter note, my nun spotting is going very, very well. I’ve even included our visitors and my husband on my quest. We’ve seen a nun eating ice cream in Prague. A nun on the boat to the Cloister Brewery (atta girl!) We saw one on a bike in Wurzburg. And actually, one day Amanda and I saw a nun, a monk and two priests all in the time frame of about 10 minutes. But to top it all, Tom, Jennifer, Tim and I ducked into the Cathedral Dom to check it out and ended up getting blessed by the Bishop of Regensburg. Not bad, huh.

Fish and Visitors

You know that old saying (think it's Ben Franklin) that Fish and Visitors smell after 3 days? Not true. Totally not true. At least this is what I keep telling myself as I prepare to be a visitor in the states for almost a month. (Okay, the fish part may be true. I left salmon in the fridge for almost a week once. Pee-uuu!)

After having a steady stream of visitors (stream--get it? I’m going with the fish metaphor here) we’ve just shipped off our last guest on Wednesday. I tell you what, it is so much fun to finally be the destination. We've spent pretty much every weekend for the last 7 years in a guest bedroom of either a friend or family member. Now, it feels like the tides have changed and we are getting to play host and hostess and return the favor.

A few High-Lights:

• Catching up with my old friend Amanda. Her visit was wonderfully low key, focusing less on the touristy side and more on real-life Bavaria. I did manage to take her on a few Death Marches and a road trip to Prague for lunch.
• Soccer game in Munich with my bro and sister-in-law, followed by dinner at the Weissesbrauhaus (an old haunt of Hitler and cronies.) Did I mention that it’s “Spargel (asparagus) Season” here? Great cream of asparagus soup to accompany our sausages and potato pancakes. We also took them for a boat ride up the Danube to the Cloister Brewery, where Monks have been making beer for nearly 1,000 years. (Yep, I said a thousand. It’s not a typo.)
• Middle Ages Festival in Rothenburg with my former Bradley student Kristen. This medieval walled-city from the 1500s had a weekend long, town-wide Middle Ages festival, complete with parades, wandering bands of singing knights, court jesters juggling, and of course, beer tents. Not to mention we had a breakthrough with the German language. Tim and I stayed up until 4am speaking German with our Pension Proprietress and her husband. Exhilerating.

A few Low-Lights

• Amanda and I were searching for a great workout the form of a Yoga class. Yoga class—check. Great workout—uncheck. Think I’ll keep looking.
• Middle Ages festival in Munich
  What we had in mind was a carnival atmosphere, with people dressed up in Elizabethan clothes and perhaps a simulation of knights jousting. What we found was a cross between a Star Trek and a Dungeons and Dragons convention in a mud pit. (The irony is that we found the perfect festival in Rothenburg a few days later, but Tom and Jennifer had already headed home.)
• My Midnight Dash to Berlin
  Lovingly called my “blitzfahrt” by my husband. Kristen was supposed to take a train from Regensburg to Berlin on Tuesday to catch her flight home early on Wednesday morning. Unfortunately, in Nurnberg at about 8pm, we realized that no train could get her there in time. Thus, the mad dash. We were successful though. Tired, but successful!
  

Anyway, tell Poor Richard that his Almanac is full-a-crap. He just needs to throw out the fish…

Meine Prufung

Some of you have asked what do with myself all day. I assure you, I am not laying around the whole time watching Soaps and eating bon-bons. (Mostly because I can’t get Soaps over here. Or bon-bons.) Actually, I’ve been taking an Intensive German class for 4 hours everyday. And that, my friends, is a lot of German. Mind you, not enough really to know what I’m saying, but just enough to get into trouble. So after 6 months of study, I take a rather large exam on Saturday to prove to the government that I can speak basic German. The test consists of a reading/comprehension section, a listening test, a written part, and an oral exam, taking up most of my day on Saturday. (And wouldn’t you know, it’s supposed to be beautiful!)

I thought in honor of my test (actually to postpone studying) I’d offer up a few of the stages that one goes through on the quest to learn another language. This list is by no means complete. Any of you are invited to add to it, as I’m sure I will as I travel down this road.

• The “Wee! Won’t this be Great Fun to Speak Another Language” Stage:
  Beware. This one is very short lived. It lasts just until you set foot in your foreign country of choice.
• The “Oh Dear God, What Have We Gotten Ourselves Into” Stage:
  Closely follows the aforementioned “Weee! Stage”
• The “Ok, There Are Stupider (no, that’s not a word) People Than Me Who Speak Multiple Languages” Stage:
  Very important as your build up your self-esteem for the fight that will ensue.
• The “You’ve Got to Be Kidding Me” Stage:
  Where you find yourself asking: How many words does this stupid language have? And why did they let a schizophrenic invent the grammar rules?
• The “Filter” Stage:
  Using selective hearing to only understand the words you already know. The rest just washes through.
• The "Ass-Outta-You-And-Me” Stage:
  Understanding 1 out of 10 words, then assuming you know what’s going on.
• The "Whoops, I’m So Sorry” Stage:
  Usually follows shortly thereafter.

That’s about as far as I’ve gotten. Okay—must study. I just need to pass, right? No need to nail it to the wall. After all, in the words of the very wise Brian Curran, “C’s get Degrees.”

Train Spotting

I am leaving my profession of teaching dance in favor of turning my favorite past-time into a full-time career. People watching. I have often enjoyed the airport for this reason. But now that the non-traveling public can no longer go to the gates, it’s not as good. Disappointment. I’ve been continually searching for new avenues. Coffee shops. Late-night Steak-n-Shake. Theatre cast parties. So over here, naturally, I'm ever on the same quest. I believe I've found my new venue. Let me offer up...Train Stations.

Here's just a taste of what my world looks like:

People going to work with briefcases and seriously furrowed brows. Teenagers dressed in the grungy-funk thing with tight black jeans and bright white chucks heading to Gymnasium (high school.) Lovers of all ages saying tearful goodbyes. Athletes with their bikes slung over their shoulders. Old, weathered women carrying baskets with truly strange things sticking out. (Germans love baskets.) Completely worn out mommies with screaming children attempting to get the giant kinderwagen (stroller) onto the train.

But hands down, what do I find most interesting? Nuns. I see one everyday, I’m not kidding. (Hmmm, is God trying to tell me something? Speak louder…I can’t understand German!) Being a nice protestant girl from the Midwest, I am completely fascinated. Where are they going? And actually where have they been? How does someone choose to be a nun? And once you do, what does your life hold? (Do nuns gossip?) I actually don’t believe I’ve seen the same sister twice. So why in the land of Martin Luther are there so many nuns?

I’ve seen many in the train station coming and going. I’ve passed a few on the street in the Old Town. On the train the other day, a very nice sister helped me with my German homework. Yesterday, actually I saw one recycling.

But, do you know what interests me most, and this is just ridiculous. Their shoes. (This says so much about me as a person, doesn’t it.) All of the sisters I’ve recently seen have the black habit and headpiece, but a very different choice in shoes. So I got to wondering why and realized, it’s only shoes that differentiate them from the rest of the flock. Wonder where they shop…

Just a normal weekend in...SWEDEN!

A couple weeks ago on a normal Wednesday evening, Kristi, Tim and I were sitting around our dinner table chatting about Godknowswhat when Tim happened to mention that Luftansa was having some sort of a sale. My first question: Do airlines have sales?!? Followed shortly by the second question: Where are we going? Kristi has been looking for a way to fly her husband over here in May, so out came the laptop amidst the chicken-salad-sammies and my nerd husband began doing his thing. Unfortunately for Rick (Kristi’s hubby) we came up short on transatlantic travel. But…we happened to stumble upon some good European deals. Dublin, Scandinavia, Beijing…(yes, I realize Beijing is not in Europe.) In short, on a Wednesday evening at 9:30pm we booked ourselves a nice little weekend va-ca to Stockholm leaving just two days later. These are the days when I love, love, LOVE living in Europe.

Ah, Sweden, home of such greats as Abba, Pippi Longstocking, Swedish Meatballs and one of the largest grossing companies: IKEA. Side note: I hate Ikea. Yes, I did furnish my entire Chicago apartment post college with this build-it-yourself furniture. But the fact that they traipse me all around the store through the Kinder department and bedroom sets when all I really want is a picture frame makes me avoid it like the dentist’s office.

Stockholm is just beautiful. It's been called the “Venice of the North” due to all the canals and water that have made it an important port city. For us, we thought it was kinda New England meets Munich—with a little water splashed on top. The three of us had a wonderful weekend. Had a beautiful little hotel, complete with a very helpful receptionist. We got in Friday in time to wander the old town and find dinner. Saturday we followed a Harbor tour that was in Kristi’s guidebook. (Travel tip, oh what number are we on now, 6? Get a good guidebook for any adventure. You see so much more.) Then we ended up at the Vasa Museum, which might just be the coolest museum ever.

A little bit of history: The 'Vasa' was a Swedish warship built in 1628 that sunk on her maiden voyage due to improper counterweighting. (Whoops. Can't imagine that went well for the engineers.) Anyway, they didn't have the technology at the time to bring her back up to the surface, so she sat at the bottom of the Stockholm Bay for something like 333 years. Because the water is a combination of sweet and saltwater, she was almost completely preserved. Fast forward to 1962 when she was rediscovered and raised again to the surface. Not to mention painstakingly restored. I believe nearly 90% of the boat on display today is original. I'll add some pictures here soon to give it some justice, but looks like one of the boats from Pirates of the Caribbean.

Sunday, we took most of the day to see the folk, open-air museum, which shows the homes of the Swedish people through the last couple hundred years. Then had time to swing through the Nobel Museum (Alfred Nobel lived here) before we flew home.

You know, just your normal, standard, everyday weekend.

Keeping It Real

I realize that my last entry about my mom and cooking was pretty sappy. Although I had some positive feedback from the women in my life, it seems the men were not so pleased. I received this from one of my high school friends. And I quote, “Mrs. Klaus, your last blog post was so intensely cheesy that I needed to take a nap after reading. Seriously. But I enjoyed it nonetheless” he added, diplomatically. “I want to hear more comical fish-out-of-water, HSK, a stranger-in-a-strange land stories. Less Little Women and more Lost in Translation.”

Thank you Andrew for dowsing me in cold water to bring me out of my funk. It was pretty bad, huh. I’ll see what I can do. Lord knows I do something ridiculous everyday.

Canary Island Getaway