Just another day

It's been about a week since I received an email from an administrator with the following subject:
[Internal_users] bomb found near Potsdam Hauptbahnhof (main station)

This is a somewhat common occurrence in Germany, something I neglected to consider until that moment. Every so often, an old WWII bomb will be uncovered in the initial stages of a construction project. The Germans are unfazed by this, and do what they always do. Report it in the newspaper, evacuate up to a certain perimeter, diffuse the bomb.

But for the untested foreigner, it's a bit more frightening. Over coffee that afternoon, the director of our program said, "Oh, but you don't need to worry. You live south of the train station." "Really? I'm pretty sure, unless I had the map turned upside down, that I live north of the train station." "Hmm. Let's look at the map."

Indeed, I live north of the train station, but outside the evacuation area. Still, I was quite happy to spend the morning in Berlin at a math seminar. You can't be too careful.

Bridget!

Sorry to the rest of you. This blog might be more for my family. Too many details. Not enough laughs...

Spent last weekend in Stuttgart visiting Bridget. Fortunately, I chose to take the train there (even though it's over 6 hours). The fortunate part is because my travel coincided with the beginning of the ash cloud madness. Friday trains are usually packed, and this one was even more than usual. I learned my lesson. I now reserve a seat for every trip.

Three nights in Stuttgart, and I got pretty much the best of everything. Friday we stayed in and cooked, drank too much wine, and finally watched a movie that I'd been wanting to see. Our cousin Adam had worked on "Frozen River", and I'd wanted to see it for quite some time. The best part of having a cousin work on the film is that you watch all the credits. And then you realize he was also IN the film. How did you miss it? We found him. It was definitely him, sporting a Grizzly Adams beard and sitting in a dark truck, talking out of the side of his mouth. I suppose then that it's no surprise we missed him the first time.

Bridget had work the next day, so I entertained myself until the evening. Got to see Bridget dance with Dougie again. Hadn't seen that in quite some time so it was an especially nice treat. They partner really beautifully together, and the choreography suited them somehow. Enjoyed that piece immensely, but the next one seemed a borderline mockery of the ballet. Turns out it's a piece from the 70s. It definitely belongs in that time. Overdramatized with no story. Not a good combination.

After the ballet, we went to Eton's place for dinner. Mom, you would be in heaven in his garden. It stretches five times the size of the one in the back on Broadview. Sweeps down a hill with a view of the city. The goal of the night was to get Bridget drunk. Mission accomplished! Actually, it was a wonderful evening. Eton's an amazing cook and I ate veal for the first time in my life. Now I know why people order the stuff. I still don't know why anyone would eat fois gras, but some people seem to love it!

We hoped for a long walk and a lazy afternoon on Sunday, but a dancer in Bridget's ballet got sick. So I got a long walk and a lazy afternoon. Bridgie just got the long walk. She spend my lazy afternoon rehearsing a new dancer to go on that evening. The day of the show, they put a giant banner on the side of the building announcing the piece.



That's Bridget talking on her cell phone to the ballet master of the company, explaining the situation. He was boarding a boat with 3000 other people, traveling from Oslo (?) to somewhere in northern Germany I think. He was then to take a few trains and get back into Stuttgart a mere 36 hours later. Uggh.

That night I got to see Bridget's piece. The music mixed bits from a "This American Life" radio broadcast with different pieces of music that I believe were all by the same composer. Upon hearing the idea, I couldn't picture how it would work out. But it did, and seamlessly. One must know a lot of music in order to bring something like that together. (That, and one must work very hard I suppose.) Anyway, it was beautifully done. I was struck by how much the dancers reflected the story, and how smoothly I was moved from humor to introspection to grief and back again. The radio broadcast was simply the reading of a series of letters that people had written or found (and mostly found). It was entertaining and intense, all at once. I really enjoyed it.

As I write this I'm at home, recovering from the flu. I haven't had cheese or beer in more than 48 hours. And as most of you know, that's a very challenging thing for me. I think my stomach is almost ready. Almost.

Ich habe ein Fahrrad

As previously mentioned, the Institute is around the corner from nowhere. Travel there, even from Potsdam, usually takes more than one mode of transportation and more than 30 minutes. My location to the east of Potsdam lengthens my commute by at least 15 minutes and adds another mode of transport.

Much to my delight, I was given a bicycle on loan. For the duration of my stay, I have a much preferred method of commuting. It's over 13 km each way, and takes me a good 45 minutes on the rather hefty bicycle pictured above. Since there are no other ways I can anticipate exercising, except perhaps by lifting hefty beer mugs to my lips, the length of ride and heft of bike are probably necessary evils.

As expected, the town is prepared for cyclists. My entire route consists of paths or bike lanes, and I am almost always in good company on my bicycle. I begin my travel in the small town of Babelsberg, encountering treacherous hazards just outside my front door. (See "Paris -Roubiax".) Smooth road awaits in just a few blocks, and then it's fifteen minutes of riding to the Potsdam Haubtbanhof. Over the bridge (Potsdam is an island!), past the reconstruction site of the old palace (read "hole in the ground"), and 10 minutes of city riding put me in Park Sanssouci.


Past the New Palace, a few more cobbled hazards, and I'm onto a 2 km path that runs between the western edge of Potsdam and the small town of Golm. Apparently the path is less than ideal on rainy days, but I avoid the ride on rainy days so hopefully I will never know!

The winter was long and cold for the people in northern Germany, but spring is coming and each day seems the perfect day for a ride into work.

Parks - Babelsberg and Sanssouci

This is Bablesberg Tower, which sits in Bablesberg Park. It's about a 25 minute walk from my apartment to get there. People come with their dogs, their friends, their kids. And because they're German, no one walks on the grass. Everyone walks on the paths. The tower was built in the 1850s and at one time apparently took in guests. (Not guests in the Sir Thomas More sense, but actual guests.) Someone told me you can climb to the top and get a good view of the surrounding area. I'm saving that for my next free Saturday.



Also in the park is a summer palace that was built in the 1830s for one of the Kaisers. Nice digs, huh? The place has been falling apart for years and you can pay money to go inside and tour the "construction process". On the sign they mention that budget constraints are keeping them from achieving their goals on time. I guess it's bad all over.

Coming around the corner of the castle, I stumbled on what looked like dormitories. I couldn't figure out what they were, or why they were right next to this beautiful castle. At the exit of the park, I looked at the map and saw those buildings are affiliated with the University of Potsdam. So they might, in fact, be dorms. I would be worried, if I were in the US, that the castle might turn into a frat house.

On the other side of town sits Park Sanssouci. The place is enormous, and on a spring afternoon it's packed with tourists and locals. Again, everyone stays on the paths. On the far western end of the park sits the New Palace, built in the 1760s. It's a beautiful structure, but as with many other places it has seen better days. Still, it's incredibly imposing.

Here is the New Palace. Note the large amounts of construction going on. Around the base and the roof of the palace, there are statues approximately every 15 feet. On the main part of the building, these are all adults. Off to the side of the palace, on a smaller and shorter part of the building, they're cherubs.

We're not in Hamburg

At the suggestion of my mother, I'm trying to make friends. While her initial suggestion was that I meet people for biking trips, we both agreed that the state of my bike makes such outings prohibitive.

Went to dinner on Wednesday night to a "burger place" with a bunch of the grad students. I've never been to a burger place where they didn't ask you how you wanted it cooked. Except, I suppose, McDonalds. And that should tell you something about the quality of the burger. If this is the standard, which it very well may be, the standard is very, very low. In contrast to the pathetic display of a burger was the glorious side. I ordered a "Riesencheeseburger mit wedges." Wedges, you ask? Wedges are quartered red potatoes, coated in something and deep fried. Accompanied by a dip made primarily of SOUR CREAM. These people know how to party. It almost made up for the ghastly burger. Almost, but not quite. I had to drink a few beers just to comfort myself.

Potsdam, Babelsberg, Golm

In descending order of population, Potsdam, Babelsberg, and Golm. Arrived to what I believed was Potsdam (was actually Babelsberg) on Easter Monday. Stores closed. People indoors. Quiet town. Terrifyingly boring.

I was overtired, nervous about the new beginnings, and uncertain about what to do with the rest of my day. Consequently, did nothing. First day proved memorable only in its lack of entertainment. Oh, did buy a Donner kabob. Basically a gyro. My main suggestion, don't say yes to the addition of red cabbage. It's not very good.

The Institute is not in the middle of nowhere. It's actually just around the corner from there. There's no good way to get there, and after a few days of frustration I am happy to report that I am now in possession of a bike. Courtesy of the Institute, for the duration of my stay. It's about 45 minutes by bike, but I anticipate it will be an excellent way to get some exercise every day.

The bike, for the record, is not aerodynamic or flattering. It is a "Wicked Witch of the West" bike, a "Beach Cruiser", a "To Pedal this thing I'm going to get Thighs of Steel" bike. But I'll look more like a native this way. Plus, I'll get thighs of steel. That's a bonus you can't turn down!