2012 Year in Review: Parental Guidance (II of V)

The next slice of the 2012 awesome pie had a long journey before it arrived: my parents! Not only was it fabulous just getting to see them again, but we also got to do lots of traveling. And I got to play tour guide! The first stop was a trip up to Normandy in France. We stayed in the city of Caen (which is pronounced almost how you’d imagine a crow with a cold saying “caw”) and from there ventured to the D-Day beach sites, the Caen Memorial, and Mont St Michel. While it was rainy and a bit dreary for most of our trip, we had really amazing weather while at Mont St Michel!

Note the stairs. (Stairs would become a theme in this trip.) There were lots of them. LOTS of them. This is not a journey for the faint of heart... or weak of knee. 

The beach sites were gorgeous despite the cruddy conditions. It was hard to imagine how much death and devastation occurred in these places. The only place where you could even begin to get an inkling of what it was like was at Pointe du Hoc, where the Earth is still cratered from all the bombing; the original ceiling of a bunker is still in place, scorched and crackled by a flame thrower; a cement wall full of bullet holes. Profound experience.

at les arromanches

Omaha Beach, Dog Sector

Pointe du Hoc

On the way back to Germany, we stayed overnight in the city of lights at the infamous Chat Noir hotel! During our afternoon, we were able to hike amongst the bones of Les Catacombes (lay cat-uh-comb-buh, as I was so politely corrected by a Frenchman during my last visit), take in the view of and from Sacre Coeur, and sample some authentic Parisian cuisine.

Of course, to get to Sacre Coeur you must first climb Montmartre - a hill in the 18th arrondisseement (think: neighbordhood) in Paris. Fortunately, there were some stairs along the way to help. (Yey, stairs!)

At the top of the hill, we discovered that there's a little red train that runs you all the way up Montmartre for a fee. Clever thinkers, those Parisians! Ah well... we still made it to the beautiful Basilica.

It's absolutely gorgeous inside; breath-taking. Truly a must-see! And the view of Paris from this height is just awesome. Not awesome as in the casual "that's totally rad!" 80's way - I mean awesome as in reverent. I've been to the top of the Eiffel Tower and thought that the view here was more impressive. ...I wonder what it would look like from the top of the Basilica!

And 8 Euros or so later... stairs! (I told you it was going to be a thing.)

Lots of spiraling, teeny tiny steps... about 300, to be precise. Up... 

and up...

and up...

and...

totally worth it.

Paris was absolutely lovely. But after a long day it was time to head back to the Chat Noir, get some food, and get some rest. We had a train out early the next morning.

The metro was quiet the next morning - just a few people who were still drunk drinking from the night before. So it was a surprise when a very handsome man with two little boys literally ran and hopped into our train car just before the doors shut. (It was just like in Mary Poppins, when they all hold hands and hop into the sidewalk art - only these guys were jumping into the Paris Metro. Still magical, right?) They were much more awake than most of the rest of us that morning and the boys were so cute you couldn't help but smile. The dad beamed a smile back at us and I thought, “Man. This guy really looks like Usher!” A thought I later shared with my mother, who agreed. Of course a French man would be that devilishly good looking. I tried not to stare. ...too much.

After our Paris excursion we spent a few days hanging around Stuttgart, then we were off to Switzerland! Staying in Schaffhausen, our main goal was to see if we could locate any information on my grandmother’s grandparents who had come over to the States from a small nearby village named Guntmadingen. We weren’t sure if we’d find anything, but no sooner had we stepped off the train than we had run into someone selling strawberries under the family name – from Guntmadingen!! (Best strawberries I’ve ever tasted in my life!)

After checking in, we toured around Schaffhausen – visiting the Rheinfalls, seeing a castle, then wandering around downtown. From what I hear, the Swiss are pretty proud of these falls. I think I would be too. They are quite impressive.

Gorgeous!

Of course, to get to the castle we did encounter some old friends...

Stairs!!! 

(I'm pretty sure dad wanted to kill me at this point. It would've been the perfect revenge to just push me down these stairs.. these evil, soul-sapping stairs. Of course, I'm glad he didn't.)

Needless to say... we slept pretty well that night.

The next morning it was time for Guntmadingen. When we asked for assistance on finding the right bus to get us there from the front desk, we discovered that one of our potential distant cousins worked at our hotel!! She gave us lots of wonderful information and even provided contact information to stay in touch. So not only did we get to see where my ancestors lived (right up to one of the very houses they lived in!), we found someone we may actually be distantly related to. Successful journey, indeed!

That little cluster of houses in the distance? The entirety of Guntmadingen.

Clearly, it didn't take us long to visit. We even walked over to the neighboring town (whence the photo was taken) to check out the church and its graveyard. It's the very church where ancestors of mine were wed and buried - a humbling experience. After seeing it all first-hand, we understood why everyone in town (including our bus driver, who clarified our desire three times before shrugging, laughing, and issuing our tickets) thought it was so funny that the American tourists wanted to see Guntmadingen!

On the train back home, mom happened to browse a magazine that had been left in our seating area. In her browsing, she came across a photo of someone she recognized: one of the little boys from the train in Paris. In fact, both of the little boys – hand-in-hand with that handsome young man that had looked so much like Usher. We were able to make out enough of the article to determine that yes, the photo was of Usher. In fact, he had recently (a few days prior) held a concert in London. Meaning he was in Europe. Meaning...

We. Saw. Usher!!!!

(dad wasn’t nearly as thrilled.)

Sadly, my parents couldn't stay much longer after that. It was hard to let them leave, but it was a very good visit that created lots of wonderful memories. Plus there were more adventures to be had!



<< 2012 Year in Review, Part I                                                         2012 Year in Review, Part III >>

2012 Year in Review: Tulips and More! (I of V)

…hello, Blog.

I bet you thought I forgot about you. That’s simply not tr- …what’s that? Oh, I know I haven’t written in ages! It’s just that things get busy… I get lazy… and then people were all, “OMG the world is going to end!” So I thought really… what’s the point? Zombies (because we all know that’s how the world’s going down) can’t read anyway. Even if they could, I’m pretty sure they’re more preoccupied with brains than with the internet. (Clearly they have not been introduced to Grumpy Cat.) But then a funny thing happened! Or really, didn’t happen. The apocalypse. It just… it didn’t… happen. Then I was left feeling rather silly! Because now here are all these people dying (or I guess not dying, really) to read my blog and I’ve not been very accommodating. So I thought, “Oh! I’ll update on New Year’s Day to mark the start of a whole new season of blogging!” And, as we all know, when I say one day… I really mean sometime long after that. In this case, I’m only two days late!

While the year of 2012 did not usher in the Zombie Apocalypse, it did bring me a whole heaping pile of awesome. As I forgot too long procrastinated sharing it with you all… let me take the time to do so now.

My year started with a newfound sense of freedom. After several long years, four moves, and a change (or two) in majors I finally completed my undergraduate degree! My diploma arrived shortly after the new year and there was much rejoicing. (yaaaaaaaay)

After a long, gray winter, the hubs and I finally got around to seeing more of Europe by taking a tour of The Netherlands (namely Holland) and visiting the world-famous Keukenhof. It was nothing short of amazing! Let’s see if I can sum up our trip in 10 words: cats, cows, cheese, chocolate, Chocomel, windmills, Anne Frank, tulips, canals. …nope, not quite. There were also chickens and clogs, fresh fish and amazing hand-painted Delft pottery. I mean, just amazing! And when I type tulips, I should write TULIPS! because there were so. many. They also came in thousands of varieties! But the best part? The scent of the wind after caressing hundreds of acres of tulips.

TULIPS!

Tiltin' with the 'mills.

Cat & Canal

Shortly thereafter, I took a day trip to Munich with a friend of mine. After I got us off the train at the wrong stop like a total traveling pro, we made our way to Dachau! It was a beautiful, warm and sunny day… which was in complete contrast of the dark history of the camp.

I still don’t think I can put into words the effect the camp had on me, but I can say that it was very interesting to see the various reactions of others visiting that day. When we left, my friend and I were rather somber and reflective; though we did chat a bit. This, of course, was interrupted by the only person who could interrupt such a mood – the Classic American.

The Classic American is the only fitting title for these people, I think – akin to the name of a sandwich you might see on the menu at Denny’s or something. It’s not that they don’t speak the language, it’s that they come expecting everything to be in English. They have almost no idea what to do if there isn't English translation or an English speaker around. Then when they find someone who does speak their language, they must engage in conversation. Conversation, of course, is their word for flaunting their limited knowledge of any- and everything and attempting “jokes” that often consist of their lack of understanding of their cultural flub-ups or frustration at cultural differences. ('Why should I tip the woman who’s sitting outside the bathroom? She’s just sitting there!' accompanied by the look of, 'Am I right or am I right?') Then they expect and try to get you to laugh in agreement. In general, they’re annoying to those of us who are just trying to blend in.  

While it was completely jarring having to speak with someone who seemed completely unaffected by everything he’d just seen, we didn’t have to tolerate him long! Soon the bus arrived and we were whisked to the bahnhof, where friend and I fled to the Munich city center to explore a bit. We even had time for a quick trip to the famous Hofbrauhaus and some souvenir gathering!

Had my over-eagerness not gotten us off the train too early, we probably would have had more time to hang around. However, what I was able to see of Munich was pretty amazing and I know there's much, much more.

2012 Year in Review: Part II! >>

FESTivities!

Don your dirndls and lace up your lederhosen, ladies and gents! It's fest season!

Lederhosen don't actually need lacing... but it was the best I could come up with. The point is that it's that well loved time of the year when Germans come together to celebrate some long-dead royalty's wedding day (or birthday)!

And beer.

...ok, fine. It's mostly about the beer now, but history is important too!! I'll give you the gist and let you google the rest.

I'm sure by now most of you have figured that I'm referring to the infamous Oktoberfest in Munich. While you would assume that Oktoberfest would actually be held during the month of its namesake (the original actually was), you would be incorrect. They hold it in late September. Why? Better weather, of course! Even though King Ludwig's wedding day was super cool and all; and they invited the common folk to come out and celebrate with them, that's in fact not the fest I'm referring to. I'm actually more excited about our local Volksfest!

The Cannstatter Volksfest in Stuttgart began as an agricultural festival, celebrating "OMG we actually survived that hellish winter!" and held on King Wilhelm's birthday. They probably should have held it on Czar Nikolaus's (yeah, the Russian guy) birthday since he was the one that sent the grain that saved their frozen butts... but he wasn't king, like his cousin. And May is a terrible month to celebrate a harvest! Good month for "sweet Jesus we survived the winter!" though... hmm... I digress.

Volksfest here is very similar to Oktoberfest in Munich, but it has a few less tourists. If you ever get a chance to attend, you must get the full effect by popping your head into one of the tents. Do this before 1700, when table reservations kick in, and you can grab any open seat you can find! It could be a little crowded, though, as any time during fest season is a good time to drink. This was the scene when we arrived around 1400 this year.

Once you secure a seat, it's time to order your halbes Hähnchen (half chicken) and your Mass (liter of fest beer). Other food and beverage is available, but this gives you the authentic experience. Eat quickly though because before you finish that beer, you'll be standing on the bench, swinging your stein and singing along to the live entertainment!

You may not know the words, but as long as you move your mouth and appear to be having a good time you're in good with your tent neighbors! It's also a fair bet that you'll at least be able to hum along to a good portion of the playlist. In the States, you can keep your Li'l Wayne, Justin Bieber, and One Direction. Over here, we rock American 80's! Don't like the 80s? Have another beer. You'll love this great American export by the time you reach the bottom.

After your second liter mass, it's time to hit some rides. If you're not feeling like the tilt-a-whirl, the log ride, or the sling shot, at least shell out the Euro for a calm trip on the Ferris wheel. This is a particularly enjoyable time after the sun has set and you can get a good view of the fairgrounds all lit up. 

Finally, if you attend the fest with a sweetheart, make sure to pick up a heart-shaped, decorated Lebkuchen with your favorite valentine-type message on it before the night is over. Don't wait too long before catching the train home, though. The later you wait, the greater your risk for getting wet!

The Inevitable

Oh, crap. Blogger has a "new look" and I am now completely lost... I'm sure this new facade is beneficial in some way; more streamlined, more user friendly, more profitable or something. Still, it makes me feel the way I imagine a 78 year old who's never touched a computer to feel about sending an e-mail.

Change.

It's so good; so healthy! Yet it's scary and annoying and frustrating as all get out.

I was going to write about something entirely different today, but having encountered this new obstacle I think that Change is an excellent topic! We all have to face it and it's quite possibly the most frequent hurdle military-related folk have to overcome. For some of us it never gets easier, no matter how often we deal with it; others embrace it like a picture of a cat on the internet. I choose to embrace change the way I would a baby that's just pooped itself: with much hesitation and a sick feeling, knowing that I have to deal with whatever horrid substance just entered that diaper and is assaulting my senses.

When I was in retail, I freaked out when my manager changed how we queued customers on Black Friday. Why on Earth change something that has worked for years? It's not broke, don't "fix" it! Keep your smelly, baby-poo ideas to yourself and let me run my business! ...I was like a five year-old who had just been told she couldn't take her teddy bear to mall. Sure it was probably a smart decision! I could see the benefit in it (when I wasn't thinking what a stupid idea it was). But like hell I wanted to go through with it!

Imagine how I felt when I found out I was going to have to lend my husband to the war effort for 12 months.

...which turned into 15 months.

I remember laying in bed a week or two before he was scheduled to leave with that sinking feeling in my stomach, trying to think of some way to get out of having to face this. There was no military or political reason I could think of that would cancel the deployment.... so maybe if I got terminally ill he could get excused! No... they send people all the time whose loved ones are sick or cancerous. Oh! What if I got hit by a car? I would get hurt, but not dis-figuratively so, and go into a year-long coma - waking up just in time for his homecoming! But what if he dies while I'm in the coma? No good. ..what if Afghanistan spontaneously imploded?!

Short of the miraculous implosion that would somehow leave all the innocents safe and unharmed, I realized I was going to have to actually do this. It was the most disheartening realization of my life. Maybe next to the realization that I had known that I actually chose this life. I'm nearly positive that there's a moment in every military spouse's life when we think back to that moment of confidence we had when we thought "S/he's probably going to get deployed... but that's ok! I can do this! :-D" and want to punch our past selves in the face. Not for choosing the person we did! Just for being so damned cocky in thinking this would somehow not be excruciatingly difficult.

You know those moments in action movies where they make the hero out to be even more of a bad ass because someone who's obviously terrified asks 'how are you not afraid?!' and the hero's always like "I am."

THAT'S a deployment. Only you don't feel like more of a BAMF when you're going through it. Your heart still races every time there's a knock at the door. You just have to keep moving forward; adapt to what you are forced to endure.

But change in military life isn't always awful. After all, there's the opportunity to live in exciting new places like Germany! See the world! But don't think that makes change any less difficult.

The difference is that first, you are elated! The dawn of this realization is slow and steady, full of beautiful and exciting colors. Each little obstacle is just a check box toward the awesomeness coming your way. The promise of a new day distracts you, lets you ignore the fact that the night is dissolving.

Then at some point it hits us all, the stress of change. The crowning moment where all the little things come to a head. Suddenly we're in full daylight, forced to confront the sun and realizing we can't snuggle up in the comfort of our own bed.

For me, it was only a few weeks after we arrived. Our cat, Clyde, was suddenly very sick and it was clear he needed a vet. Feeling confident, I called the on-post clinic to schedule an appointment. I didn't even know where the clinic was! But I'd figure it out, I told myself. Except the woman on the phone informed me that they didn't have an appointment available for another 3 months and I would have to see someone "on the economy", as they say. ['On the economy' refers to anything off-post; thus, outside the little American economy and part of actual Germany.]

Enter Amy. Thank the stars for Amy!

Amy was a fellow spouse who had contacted me as part of the 'welcoming committee'. Normally I would avoid such things like the plague - grateful for their enthusiasm and service, but weary of their potential dysfunction and gossip. Persistent and spunky, she won me over though. I was thankful for her in general, but even more so when she came to my (and Clyde's) rescue! No sooner had I posted the sick kitty dilemma to Facebook than she had called me, given me the number to a vet (that spoke English), and told me she was on her way to scoop us up. She even told me what to say!

I only noticed my hands were shaking as I was writing a note to my husband, in case he came home while we were gone. I realized things were bad when I had to will myself to pick up the phone and dial the vet. I was terrified of how this exchange would go! What if they didn't actually speak English? What if we couldn't understand each other without the context of body language?! What if the number was wrong... Oh, why did Clyde have to get sick now? Why didn't I take German in college? WHY did we have to come to Germany?! The thrill had warn off and I was outside my comfort zone. So methodically, I checked things off in my head: get Clyde into carrier, find and set out his medical record, write note to husband, write down our new phone number and address, set out proper forms to take with us. Then frantically, I left it all on the counter.

Despite the fact that we were cutting into his lunch time, the vet was amiable and took good care of us. Note: us. Not just Clyde.

I was beginning to feel the relief of having successfully overcome another obstacle of change when they asked for my phone number. ...which I didn't know. And my address. ...which I couldn't remember. And my VAT form. ...which I didn't have. And the medical records. ...that I'd left on the counter. All of these were things that Amy had specifically told me to bring and I'd forgotten them. I wanted to burst into tears on the spot! She was on very good terms with the vet and here I was setting a bad example as an American, a military spouse, and making her look bad by being completely unprepared, disorganized, and incompetent! I wanted to crawl under a rock but couldn't! So I did the next best thing: stopped talking.

If I get too uncomfortable in a situation I do one of two things: babble uncontrollably or clam up entirely, resorting exclusively to body language and generic sounds of agreement (mm-hmm!). This time I chose the latter. The race had gone on too long and my legs simply would not launch me over this last hurdle. But I was not alone. They took up the slack I left in the conversation and it all worked out happily in the end. What I saw as a mountain of frustration and inadequacy was nothing to fret over for them and they got me through, despite my lack of words.

So in the end, it isn't always about the outcome or the destination. It isn't whether something is getting better or worse. Sometimes, it is just about the change. For many of us, change is scary and difficult. The important thing to remember is that you don't have to go through it alone. There are people and tools all around us that are meant to help.

Now if only I could get Blogger to stop giving me these instructions in German...