Thursday, August 30, 2007

Jeremi on the job hunt

Last week Jeremi applied for his first job since getting here. This was a fair bit of work for both of us, as we decided after asking around a bit that it would be better to send the cover letter in German, even if the CV was in English. We also tried to "Germanize" the CV a bit, by changing the chronological order the way they do it here (oldest to most recent), and adding a birthdate and a photo. They also usually include family situation (i.e. single, married, how many kids) on CVs here, but it's not considered obligatory, unlike the date of birth. People here think it's hysterical that it's technically against the law in Canada to ask these sorts of questions when hiring people.

We'd written up a nice cover letter in English and then tried to translate it into the best German we could muster, but of course the nicely constructed phrases had to be broken into little chunks so that the grammar didn't get too complicated. I brought it to a native-speaking colleague to have a look over it, and she very kindly spent about an hour and a half with me rewriting the whole thing so that it sounded better.

But this still left the photo, so last week we had a little photo shoot, with Jeremi trying to look nice and professional. After taking several pictures, here's the one we settled on:
But of course the lighting could have been better, and it's not centred so well, and he's got a touch of red-eye, so I played around in iPhoto and magically transformed it into this:
Now not only is the lighting and colour better, the picture framed more nicely, and the red-eye fixed, but I also managed to get rid of the zit on his forehead and the shiny bits on his cheeks, nose and forehead. I'd hire him, wouldn't you?

That is, unless we sent in the full-body picture by mistake...
(Or maybe they're hire him all the more, but I don't know that I want him doing that sort of a job.)

In other news, we're heading to Niedernhausen this weekend, a town between Frankfurt and Wiesbaden, for the wedding party of our friends Jenny and Leo, who we know from Canada. We'll tell you all about it next week.

Thursday, August 23, 2007

A darker side of Germany

Last Saturday we woke up to the sound of helicopters. Upon looking outside we found that this wasn't the usual medivac bringing people to and from the hospital, but rather a black surveillance copter hovering just north of where we live. We also saw a lot of people up and down our street, much more than is normal on a Saturday morning. By noon we could hear the chanting of about 1000 people from the city centre, and while eating brunch we had a couple dozen riot police running down our street.

Unlike usual, this was not all due to a rowdy football game. Rather it was because last Friday, August 17th, was the 20th anniversary of Rudolph Hess's death. You know, Hitler's deputy, convicted at Nuremburg to spend the rest of his life in prison, died of apparent suicide at the age of 93 in 1987, that guy. It seems that the far right party in German politics, the NPD, sees fit to organize celebrations on this day. Not celebrations because the guy died, but celebrations of what he stands for. (They tore down the prison where he lived after his death so that it wouldn't become a shrine.)

In other surrounding bundeslands (states) in Germany laws had been passed to make it illegal to hold protests on this day or weekend, but the courts in Gera (in Thüringen, where we live), decided that was a bit too undemocratic, as the official reason for the protest was concern over a law against "incitement of the people". According to Deutsche Welle's English website, this law carries prison time or fines for publicly glorifying or justifying the Nazi terror regime. Germany has remarkably strict laws about this sort of thing, at least by Canadian standards. Among things that are illegal here are denial of the Holocaust, performing Nazi salutes, and printing or selling copies of Mein Kampf. (Not that I want to do these things, but isn't banning ideas a bit, well, fascist?)

So the big deal on the weekend was due to about 300 right-extremist protestors holding a march in Jena Nord, just north of where we live, and there was a counter-demonstration by about 1000 anti-fascists (i.e. normal people) in the centre of town. The police were out in full force, doing their damndest to keep a buffer zone between the two groups. (We happen to live in the buffer zone.)

What's more troubling is that this protest was apparently just a dry run for the "Fest der Völker", or festival of nations/peoples, which is happening September 8th. This is a huge neo-nazi party for like-minded folks from across Europe, and it's happening right here in Jena. The city council is even asking citizens to come out to protest, so that this is not what Jena is known for. It should be interesting. Below are a few images from one of the news sites of the events last Saturday. First off are the right-wing extremists. They've really made an effort to clean up their image from the punk/skinhead look. Unfortunately I can't quite make out the black text on their banner, but the red just says free nationalists, and where they're from.
Next up is a group with a banner reading: National Socialism or Ruin. (Kind of like nazism or bust, I guess.)And here's the last group. Why, they cleaned these young men up so nicely they look almost as squeaky-clean as fascists in the 1930s!
And it really is almost all young men. Mostly young, unemployed men from poor cities in East Germany. And the NPD has come in and set up youth programs (like the Girls and Boys Club, but with less tolerance), and offered something for them to do.

And now for the counter-protest. Many more people, and right in the centre of the city. This sea of people is completely filling a large intersection and a little park where there's a fountain and the patio of an ice cream shop. (I almost called it an Ice Café, before remembering that that's really not what it's called in English.)
And this shot doesn't show the number of people as well, but you do get to see some of the diversity. Notice the women and older people? I guess things aren't that hopeless after all...

Thursday, August 16, 2007

Denmark

A few short days after bidding a sad good-bye to Marie (after spending a last weekend in Leipzig with her at her friend Pauline's), we headed to Denmark. Our friends Calin and Susanne had been there already for a week and a half when we arrived, as they were vacationing at Susanne's parents' home there.

We didn't want to spend a fortune on train tickets (and believe me, it can cost a lot to take the train only a few hours here), so we were thrilled when we were able to find some cheap 29 euro tickets from Jena to Rostock, where we could catch the ferry to Falster island, where Susanne's parents live. The only catch was that we had to take 7 different trains from 22:50 Wednesday night until 8:03 Thursday morning, and the longest single train ride was one hour and thirteen minutes. On the upside, it meant that I could work all day on Wednesday and still get to spend Thursday in Denmark, so I was all for it. And for once, Deutsche Bahn didn't let us down with hopelessly late connections. (One train was somewhat late, but the train we had to catch after was also slightly late so it all worked out.) To remember our foolishness, we decided to take pictures at every train station we stopped at.

So here's Jer in Jena at around 22:45, waiting for the first train to arrive...
And then half an hour later here I am in Naumburg...
And then in Halle (an der Saale) waiting for train number 3...
I even managed to sleep a little on that train, when I wasn't being bothered by Jeremi photographing me.And then at 1:22 we made it to Magdeburg, where we got to hang out for around 3 hours waiting for the next train. We managed to find a bench in the station, but the doors were left open all night. Luckily we'd thought to bring a blanket, so Jeremi was able to get some warm sleep. Unfortunately it was continuously interrupted by a few really drunk men who decided to hang out at the train station all night, occasionally singing and shouting to experience the excellent accoustics. Ah, Magdeburg.
And from there the next stop was Stendal...
and then Wittenberge.
Yup, it's really getting lighter now. And then we transferred trains again in Schwerin,
until finally we made it to Rostock!But our transportation was not over. We actually took another regional train up to the ferry terminal, and then boarded the ferry to Denmark. We didn't get a picture of the last regional train, but Jeremi did take a picture of these enourmous windmill blades that were on the ground at the port:
Here's a picture of the ferry after it arrived:
And here's Calin and Susanne's car, when they came to pick us up:
Finally, we made it to Susanne's parents' house. We were staying in their guest cabin in the backyard, which was just perfect. (Her dad originally built it as a shed, but he did too good a job, so it became a cabin for guests.) Here's me unpacking my bag, getting on my swimsuit before we spent the afternoon swimming in the warm (and surprisingly fresh!) waters of the Baltic sea.
On Friday they took us to yet another island, to a park where there were huge chalk cliffs going into the sea. We'd never seen chalk "in the wild" before, and that was pretty damn cool. So we took a whole bunch of pictures.
On the way there we stopped in another town, had some beers at a local brewpub, and looked at shoes and sunglasses. Calin and I tried on sunglasses that made us look like celebrities:
(These sunglasses were actually pretty cool, because I couldn't see the frames at all while I was wearing them, but they fit really tightly to my face, so they fogged up from the moisture of my eyes. They also shifted around like crazy when I smiled because they were sitting halfway down my cheeks. Maybe this is why Victoria Beckham never smiles.)

On Friday night we went to a village party nearby so that Susanne could meet up with an old friend from high school. The village was really small, and the party was in someone's backyard in a big tent. When we first arrived a really drunk man who didn't speak English at all sort of adopted me, and we sort of made conversation in German while he brought me around to introduce me to people, and then he sat me down and brought us beers. Here's the tent from the party:
After a while the mosquitoes came out a bit so we headed back to Susanne's friend's parents' place for a few more drinks and conversation. (We really want Susanne and Calin to visit Canada with us sometime, but we think it might be better in the late fall or winter, because I think they'd die if they had to put up with our mosquitoes. Calin's been to Minnesota before, so at least he knows what it'll be like...)

On Saturday it was Hans' (Susanne's dad's) birthday. They have a belief in Denmark that if you're good during the year then the weather is nice on your birthday. Hans must have been really, really bad, as it poured rain for much of the day, making a small lake in their backyard.

We went to visit a nice little harbour town during the day, with a beautiful castle that some rich people actually own, and maybe even live in from time to time. Here we are in front of the castle:
And on the walk along the waterfront we found a big old teeter-totter which provided us with no end of entertainment. The handle was really low, such that if you were getting bumped while at the top holding on to the handle just made you fly forward instead of only up. And of course with me teeter-tottering against Jeremi, I was getting bumped a lot. They got a great picture of me looking terrified here:
And another of Jeremi's graceful dismount. He's really all leg, I swear.
On the way home we stopped for ice cream at a place we'd seen earlier that made their own waffle cones that smelled so good. But since it had been raining all day the sidewalk and patio were somewhat flooded, so we had to ditch our shoes and go wading to the cafe.
And there we were served the biggest ice creams I have ever seen in my whole life. And we only got the medium size! They also came with about a cup full of either whipped cream or marshmallow fluff on top. I finished it, but it hurt. And I never want to eat ice cream again.
Here's Susanne hiding behind hers:
Then that night we had a big delicious birthday supper for Hans. Actually, every meal that we ate there was big and delicious. We were truly well fed, and pretty well never hungry.
It was sort of like visiting my family in this regard, where there is sometimes too much food. I forgot to mention the supper on Thursday night, which was a traditional Danish meal of potatoes with a white sauce with parsley, beets, and something like really thick slices of bacon cooked until crispy. And the restaurant even had a thatched roof, which was pretty common there (and in norther Germany), but a huge novelty to us. And the breakfasts and the lunch that met us when we got back from the ferry were huge arrays of breads and toppings. It seems that these toppings are sort of a set thing though, and a particular sauce goes with a particular cheese or meat, and it's not really done to mix and match them in strange and different ways, which of course we did. (Usually Susanne's dad gets scolded for doing this, so he was happy to have someone even worse than him.) And now we're sort of in overeating detox, at least for now. Though all this talk of food is making me hungry... ...but not for ice cream.

Prague: not a cultural experience

I have to admit that the title came from Marie, and not us. The problem was not Prague lacking culture, it's practically dripping with it, but rather the way in which we experienced Prague that may have been less edifying than it might have been.

We were really there as tag-alongs with Marie. Four years ago she took a month-long course in Barcelona to teach English as a foreign language, and she and three of her classmates were having a reunion in Prague at the end of July. (They had another reunion two years ago in Beijing, and the next one is planned for Montreal in 2009.)

But it wasn't just Marie, her three friends, and us. Here's the rundown of our travelling companions: Vicki, English, around 30, living in Barcelona; Joanna, also English and around 30, living in the UK; Robin, American, around 45, been living in Beijing for the past 20 or so years; Addy, from Hong Kong, around 35, Robin's boyfriend; Harvey, 8, originally from the Philippines but adopted son of Robin living in Beijing; and Nick, 18, from North Carolina, Robin's nephew (and who he introduced to us as his niece). And of course the three of us.

And so everywhere we went we were 9 people, continually doing headchecks and trying to negotiate large tables at cafés. And we were a loud and boisterous group of 9, not exactly blending in smoothly. Here's a picture of our motley crew, less Jeremi:
From left foreground, moving clockwise, that is Nick, Marie, Addy, Harvey, me, Vicki, Robin, and Joanna.

We took the train to Prague Wednesday night after work, and got in fairly late. Jeremi and I were supposed to be staying at some sort of apartment, as there was no room left at the hotel where the others were booked. From the train station we went there but it was really an apartment building, with no check-in or anything like it. (This was a bit of a mistake on our parts - we were supposed to go to another office to pick up the keys.) After a phone call to the emergency contact number of the booking agency we found out that (a) we had to go pick up our keys somewhere else and (b) the place we booked was occupied, but there was another apartment for us only a block away from where Marie and the others were staying. Though it meant a lot of walking around town after midnight, it did really work out well for us in the end. We had a huge 2 bedroom apartment, complete with a full kitchen (even a North American-sized fridge!), an eating area, a living room, and a TV with a few channels. It was perfect, and cheaper than the hotel. We didn't take any pictures of the apartment from the inside, but here's a view from the street.

Thursday we spent walking around the old city, seeing some of the sites, such as the famous Karlov bridge. We ate and drank well of course, partaking in much of the famous Czech beer and their tasty meat-centred traditional dishes. Among the sites we saw was the astronomical clock on one of the churches in the old city square:
and this crazy statue of upside-down trees by the river:
And a nice view of the castle from the old bridge:
Friday was our day of actual cultural experiences. We took a bus an hour northwest of the city (almost a third of the way back home, actually), to the town of Terezin, or Theresienstadt as it's called in German. This is an old fortified city that was designated a Jewish ghetto by the Nazis during the war. Jews (and people married to Jews or designated Jews for whatever reason) were shipped there from all over Europe, and held before being moved onto labour or death camps. Naturally many people died there, often from disease brought on by malnutrition, overcrowding, and poor sanitation. Something like 145 000 people were brought to Theresienstadt during the war, 33 000 of them died there, and only 17 000 were left when the Soviets liberated it. It was a difficult place to visit, and I found it incredibly upsetting. I can't believe that people still live in such a place. (The last non-Jewish residents were forced out in the early 1940s, but people moved back after 1948, when the Soviets stopped using it as an internment camp for ethnic Germans.) What it made me realize is that I should never go to Auschwitz, no matter how good an idea it seems at the time. We didn't really take any pictures here.

After returning to Prague Friday evening we went out for supper to a restaurant where there just happened to be a drag show that evening. After some consultation we decided to stay for it. For Marie and Jeremi it was their first time at a drag show, and it was fabulous. The people at the bar had no problem with Harvey staying as well as long as his dad didn't mind, so everyone got to enjoy it. And enjoy it we did, singing along and dancing on benches as the night wore on. Here's one of the lovely ladies:
and Marie and I whispering secrets to each other...
and Addy and Vicki singing along for all they're worth...
and Marie up on the bench, singing, and holding up someone's lighter...
Ah yes, good times were had by all.

Saturday was somewhat slower after a night like that, and Jeremi and I only met up with the rest of the group for supper. I also only stayed out until 1:00 or so on Saturday night, while Jeremi, Joanna, Vicki, Nick, and Marie stayed out until around 5:00 at a neighbourhood bar where people kept trying to sell us drugs.

Sunday morning the others weren't really up before lunch, so Jeremi and I took the opportunity to visit an old fort only about 5 minutes from where we were staying. Inside there was a gothic cathedral with really beautiful mosaics on its doors, as well as the national cemetary, which is filled with writers, poets, musicians, and artists.
We also found it really funny that all along the outer sides of the walls of the fort they'd built clay tennis courts, and there was a tennis club just outside the ancient fort's walls. Here's a view from the top of one of the walls:
On Sunday our big group outing (before leaving on the train in the afternoon) was to the Museum of Communism. This museum was located in the same building as a casino next to a McDonalds, so you might be able to guess that they weren't looking back fondly at the good old days. In fact, the level of pro-capitalist propaganda was really quite amazing. Still it was interesting thing to see, and they had a really fabulous sign:
as well as great old statues of Carl and Lenny (Karl Marx and Vladimir Lenin):

Sunday we headed back on the train, and we'd made reservations as the train is often busy on Sundays. When we got to our seats we found that we were three out of a group of four (two pairs of chairs facing each other), but that the fourth seat was taken up by a man who was sleeping very heavily. He'd also left some of his things on one of our seats, so we were trying to gently wake him up so that he could move them. But there was no waking this guy up. We tried talking and even gently shaking him, but there's only so much we felt comfortable doing to a complete stranger who was much older than us (around 60) and with whom we may or may not share a language.

And so instead we moved his things to the floor and Jeremi climbed in carefully to the place beside him where his legs barely fit, while Marie and I were sobbing with laughter.Once back at home we needed a couple days to take it easy (while I was working, of course), so Marie and the cat chilled out and studied German while drinking sangria.