I'm sitting in my room with the window wide open, it's almost 10 and just now dusk, and I hear someone singing upstairs in our building. The program is almost half over, and we've settled into a routine now of rehearsals, lessons, coachings, and German class. I can say more things in German every day, although I'm not conversational yet, and I hardly know any grammar. Our official class is total immersion (and the teacher doesn't even speak English), so it's hard to understand when he explains grammar (which is rare--we had our first big grammar class today. I asked him, not knowing what a can of worms I was opening, to tell us all the articles for every noun declension). (And if you also don't know what a can of worms that is, check it out: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/German_declension)
I've been working a lot on my personal mission for this summer: to get a better understanding of how MY voice works, technically and dramatically and musically, and to determine what works for me and become, or at least start to become, my own teacher. Melissa, my colleague from Mary Baldwin and best friend here, has shown me some breathing exercises she uses, which I am finding helpful. Singing is such an athletic activity--but not athletic like running a marathon. It's athletic in a a spiritual way...I am finding that singing well, for me at least, requires that I find a state of focus and connection to my breath and body that's related to yoga and meditation. For so long I have waited for someone to tell me when I'm singing correctly. But I do believe that everyone is born knowing how to use their voice (my teacher has taught me this: the baby's first cry is the most natural and efficient use of the voice). And so I am trying to listen to my body, which already knows how to sing, and find what feels most efficient and true and real when I sing. I'm using the teacher and coaches here as guides to tell me what they think sounds good--but I won't settle for what doesn't feel right to me.
Monday, June 6, 2011
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Weekend Adventures
Well, I've been trying to blog every day or every other day, but again the past few days have been busy and I was tired! But I have tonight off and so can report on the last few days.
On Sunday, we went to Leipzig, and I fell in love with the town. I am one of the drivers for the two mini-vans our program rented, so I got to drive on the Autobahn. And I learned something. I always thought (silly me!) there was ONE road called the Autobahn that had no speed limit. Not so. The Autobahn is just the German version of an American interstate or highway. Any highway is called the Autobahn, and between towns, there is no speed limit. But (fortunately for me!) not everyone drives unreasonably fast. I, of course, drive like a grandmother, even though the minivan (sadly!) actually accelerates better than my car at home. I went around 65 or 70, about the same speed I would drive on 81 at home. But I still passed some other vehicles, especially tractor trailers and trucks. One time I approached a truck that was driving slowly and wanted to pass. I checked the left lane and saw no cars at all--none approaching, none in my sight (yes, Dad, I checked my blind spot too). So I changed lanes and started to pass--accelerating slowly, as I would at home. Suddenly I heard a horn, and checking my rear view mirror, I saw a car directly behind me--really on my bumper. They had come up so quickly that I didn't have time to pass the truck before they were on top of me. I accelerated past the truck as quickly as I could and got into the right lane so the crazy impatient German driver could pass me.
Even if there's no speed limit, I think tailgating should still be illegal!
Other than that, however, my driving on the Autobahn was fairly uneventful. The GPS got us safely and quickly to Leipzig, which is an incredible town. We found a parking space in a large, open lot--not too close to the center of town, so it wasn't crowded--and walked to the Thomaskirche (Thomas Church).
This is a church where J.S. Bach was the choir master for many years, and his grave was moved there in the 1900's (and is there now). Martin Luther also preached there when he brought the message of the Reformation to Leipzig. Many of Bach's compositions were written for this church and performed there first. When Bach's music was re-discovered and became popular again after his death, it was performed first at the Thomakirche.
Of course the church has been renovated many times and in many ways, but it was incredibly moving to be in a place where so much history--both musical and religious--occurred. I have always been a fan of Martin Luther, and I walked down the aisle to a Bach cantata at my wedding. Standing on stones where these men walked, seeing the pulpit where Luther preached, the baptismal font where 11 of Bach's 13 children were baptized, and paying my respects to Bach's grave--I found myself weeping for joy and beauty and gratitude. That was what I felt more than anything: gratitude. These men lived so long ago, and yet their legacy is part of my life and has helped shape me into the person I am today. When I stood by Bach's grave, I whispered, "Danke," (thank you). I think he may have paused over the music he's writing still and responded--"Bitte."
The rest of the day was a little less uplifting, however. We had come to Leipzig in two groups because half the group had a performance in the morning. Those of us who didn't have a performance wanted to go to Leipzig earlier so we could spend some more time there. In the afternoon, we had planned to see an operetta (tickets covered by the program!). However, on our way back to OUR van, we ran into the other group--in a tiny parking lot filled with cars parked where they should not have been. (I cannot emphasize this enough: people were parked in imaginary spaces, and no-one seemed to care.) My friend Leah and I decided we should go get our van so we could meet with the other two vehicles (the other mini-van and a car) and carpool together to the theater. So we did. When we got back, the other two had left without us, leaving the students from our vehicle waiting for us. But I didn't realize this until after I had pulled into the tiny, crowded parking lot. (Do you have a guess at where this story is going yet?) Everyone got in the car and I tried to pull OUT of the lot so we could go to the theater. But I couldn't squeeze through the tiny space left for the exit. Yes, that's right: I hit a parked car.
And apparently in Germany this is a big deal. It's not enough to leave a note with your number. You must call the police for any kind of collision. So...we did. We also knew, then, that we were not going to the theater. At least I wasn't. The others in my van could have gone if they wanted to, but as it turned out, everyone was more interested in spending more time seeing Leipzig. So we waited for the police, and while we were waiting, the owner of the car I had hit showed up. Fortunately, she spoke excellent English. Then the cops came, and one of them spoke English as well. Sadly, although she was parked practically across the exit, I was still at fault. Fortunately, her car was barely scratched--although of course she seemed to think there might be severe damage. Apparently Germans are very picky about their cars. But when I spoke to the program director, she was not terribly concerned. The program has insurance and it's not a big deal. Kein problem! (No problem!)
So, an hour later, we had more time to see Leipzig. I and a few others got a tour from Sarah, an American singer who lives in Leipzig now and is singing a role in our program. So that was great fun, and the drive home (much later) was mostly uneventful except that the GPS was very insistent about trying to take us on the road that was closed for construction. What I wouldn't give for a sense of direction...
Another funny thing on Sunday was that Andrew, one of the student pianists in our group, told me he thought I should go on the TV show "Amazing Race." He said he thought I could win. Obviously I would need a partner, but I think Phil and I together could very possibly win. He would do anything requiring physical courage or skill (like climbing, rappelling, or sports of any kind), but I could do anything requiring nerdy problem-solving skills, talking to people who don't speak English, or a Damsel in Distress routine (I have had a LOT of practice at this).
This weekend is a long one because tomorrow is Mannerstag--Men's Day. Apparently March 8 is International Women's Day, but the US doesn't observe it (shame on us!). From what I understood of our German teacher's sign language, on Women's Day you give your girlfriend or wife chocolate and flowers (got that Phil? It's like another Valentine's Day :) ). However, tomorrow, June 2, is Men's Day. It's also a religious holiday--I think forty days after Ascension--or else it IS Ascension and that's forty days after Easter. But apparently Men's Day is also an international holiday celebrated by men young, old, single, and married by (1) not working, and (2) drinking beer.
And that seems very German to me.
However, although we won't have German class tomorrow or Friday because of Men's Day, we will have all-day rehearsals tomorrow for Suor Angelica and The Beggar's Opera instead. I'm in Suor Angelica, of course, so it will be a pretty long day. On Friday, though, I might be going to Dresden (if I don't have rehearsal) because my aunt Sally, who lives in California and whom I rarely see, will be there! (Sally, if you're reading this...email me!)
On Sunday, we went to Leipzig, and I fell in love with the town. I am one of the drivers for the two mini-vans our program rented, so I got to drive on the Autobahn. And I learned something. I always thought (silly me!) there was ONE road called the Autobahn that had no speed limit. Not so. The Autobahn is just the German version of an American interstate or highway. Any highway is called the Autobahn, and between towns, there is no speed limit. But (fortunately for me!) not everyone drives unreasonably fast. I, of course, drive like a grandmother, even though the minivan (sadly!) actually accelerates better than my car at home. I went around 65 or 70, about the same speed I would drive on 81 at home. But I still passed some other vehicles, especially tractor trailers and trucks. One time I approached a truck that was driving slowly and wanted to pass. I checked the left lane and saw no cars at all--none approaching, none in my sight (yes, Dad, I checked my blind spot too). So I changed lanes and started to pass--accelerating slowly, as I would at home. Suddenly I heard a horn, and checking my rear view mirror, I saw a car directly behind me--really on my bumper. They had come up so quickly that I didn't have time to pass the truck before they were on top of me. I accelerated past the truck as quickly as I could and got into the right lane so the crazy impatient German driver could pass me.
Even if there's no speed limit, I think tailgating should still be illegal!
Other than that, however, my driving on the Autobahn was fairly uneventful. The GPS got us safely and quickly to Leipzig, which is an incredible town. We found a parking space in a large, open lot--not too close to the center of town, so it wasn't crowded--and walked to the Thomaskirche (Thomas Church).
This is a church where J.S. Bach was the choir master for many years, and his grave was moved there in the 1900's (and is there now). Martin Luther also preached there when he brought the message of the Reformation to Leipzig. Many of Bach's compositions were written for this church and performed there first. When Bach's music was re-discovered and became popular again after his death, it was performed first at the Thomakirche.
Of course the church has been renovated many times and in many ways, but it was incredibly moving to be in a place where so much history--both musical and religious--occurred. I have always been a fan of Martin Luther, and I walked down the aisle to a Bach cantata at my wedding. Standing on stones where these men walked, seeing the pulpit where Luther preached, the baptismal font where 11 of Bach's 13 children were baptized, and paying my respects to Bach's grave--I found myself weeping for joy and beauty and gratitude. That was what I felt more than anything: gratitude. These men lived so long ago, and yet their legacy is part of my life and has helped shape me into the person I am today. When I stood by Bach's grave, I whispered, "Danke," (thank you). I think he may have paused over the music he's writing still and responded--"Bitte."
The rest of the day was a little less uplifting, however. We had come to Leipzig in two groups because half the group had a performance in the morning. Those of us who didn't have a performance wanted to go to Leipzig earlier so we could spend some more time there. In the afternoon, we had planned to see an operetta (tickets covered by the program!). However, on our way back to OUR van, we ran into the other group--in a tiny parking lot filled with cars parked where they should not have been. (I cannot emphasize this enough: people were parked in imaginary spaces, and no-one seemed to care.) My friend Leah and I decided we should go get our van so we could meet with the other two vehicles (the other mini-van and a car) and carpool together to the theater. So we did. When we got back, the other two had left without us, leaving the students from our vehicle waiting for us. But I didn't realize this until after I had pulled into the tiny, crowded parking lot. (Do you have a guess at where this story is going yet?) Everyone got in the car and I tried to pull OUT of the lot so we could go to the theater. But I couldn't squeeze through the tiny space left for the exit. Yes, that's right: I hit a parked car.
And apparently in Germany this is a big deal. It's not enough to leave a note with your number. You must call the police for any kind of collision. So...we did. We also knew, then, that we were not going to the theater. At least I wasn't. The others in my van could have gone if they wanted to, but as it turned out, everyone was more interested in spending more time seeing Leipzig. So we waited for the police, and while we were waiting, the owner of the car I had hit showed up. Fortunately, she spoke excellent English. Then the cops came, and one of them spoke English as well. Sadly, although she was parked practically across the exit, I was still at fault. Fortunately, her car was barely scratched--although of course she seemed to think there might be severe damage. Apparently Germans are very picky about their cars. But when I spoke to the program director, she was not terribly concerned. The program has insurance and it's not a big deal. Kein problem! (No problem!)
So, an hour later, we had more time to see Leipzig. I and a few others got a tour from Sarah, an American singer who lives in Leipzig now and is singing a role in our program. So that was great fun, and the drive home (much later) was mostly uneventful except that the GPS was very insistent about trying to take us on the road that was closed for construction. What I wouldn't give for a sense of direction...
Another funny thing on Sunday was that Andrew, one of the student pianists in our group, told me he thought I should go on the TV show "Amazing Race." He said he thought I could win. Obviously I would need a partner, but I think Phil and I together could very possibly win. He would do anything requiring physical courage or skill (like climbing, rappelling, or sports of any kind), but I could do anything requiring nerdy problem-solving skills, talking to people who don't speak English, or a Damsel in Distress routine (I have had a LOT of practice at this).
This weekend is a long one because tomorrow is Mannerstag--Men's Day. Apparently March 8 is International Women's Day, but the US doesn't observe it (shame on us!). From what I understood of our German teacher's sign language, on Women's Day you give your girlfriend or wife chocolate and flowers (got that Phil? It's like another Valentine's Day :) ). However, tomorrow, June 2, is Men's Day. It's also a religious holiday--I think forty days after Ascension--or else it IS Ascension and that's forty days after Easter. But apparently Men's Day is also an international holiday celebrated by men young, old, single, and married by (1) not working, and (2) drinking beer.
And that seems very German to me.
However, although we won't have German class tomorrow or Friday because of Men's Day, we will have all-day rehearsals tomorrow for Suor Angelica and The Beggar's Opera instead. I'm in Suor Angelica, of course, so it will be a pretty long day. On Friday, though, I might be going to Dresden (if I don't have rehearsal) because my aunt Sally, who lives in California and whom I rarely see, will be there! (Sally, if you're reading this...email me!)
Sunday, May 29, 2011
La vie boheme
The past week has been a whirl of rehearsals for Suor Angelica, lessons, coachings, and (my favorite) German food and language. I'm starting (after only two weeks!) to reach that point of learning a language where I understand, sometimes, what's being said, without actually consciously recognizing any words or being able to say how I know what's going on. For example, last night I went to Amici restaurant again with my friend Melissa, Ian (the gay big brother of the group), and Dr. Maddison (the teacher from JMU who runs the program). As always, that was a good time. We were (again) waited on by both Zali (not Zati as I wrote when we met him) and Ati, the Albanian-cum-German waiters, who also speak some Italian--but no English. (Actually, I think Ati is half Albanian and half Macedonian. He drew us a map of where he is from.) After our long and relaxed meal (I had pizza again...I should really try something else there but the pizza is just addictive), Ati invited us to come out to the Cafe Mumu (or something like that) with them after they got off work. This was one of those moments: I understood what he was saying but I don't know how. Except I couldn't understand what time he was saying (I really need to spend some time memorizing German numbers). Unfortunately, when he wrote the time down for me, it was 24:00--midnight! Later he told Ian they were actually going at 1 am. Melissa doesn't do late nights--and I usually don't either, but Ian and I considered going.
But that's all well and good for waiters who have Sundays off, but we are opera singers. Ian has a performance this morning, and both of us are the rental van drivers for today's tourist trip to Leipzig, where we'll be seeing the church where Bach was Kapellmeister for a long time (at least I think that's right) and going to an operetta matinee. And I'm singing in a concert tomorrow night. All that doesn't quite say--party at the Cafe Mumu. So we didn't go. This morning when I woke up I was thinking how I would tell them (in German of course) that I wanted to go if it weren't so late, and another time when we don't have such a full weekend, we will go.
Is it just me, or does it sound like I'm living in an opera? Albanians? Cafe Mumu (isn't the cafe in Boheme called something like that)?
Anyway. I've been thinking about what I want to accomplish this summer as a singer. I believe I wrote a while ago about how I tend to be insecure about my singing and my technique. I think I need to work out for myself what works for my voice and what doesn't and stick to it, and I need to stop trying to please everyone and trust my own judgement. That is my goal for this summer, while I am away from MY teacher and working with many different teachers and coaches who I neither know nor know if I can trust, who don't know my voice yet or my journey.
The opportunity to go to cafes in the middle of the night with German-speaking Albanians is, I suppose, just a bonus.
But that's all well and good for waiters who have Sundays off, but we are opera singers. Ian has a performance this morning, and both of us are the rental van drivers for today's tourist trip to Leipzig, where we'll be seeing the church where Bach was Kapellmeister for a long time (at least I think that's right) and going to an operetta matinee. And I'm singing in a concert tomorrow night. All that doesn't quite say--party at the Cafe Mumu. So we didn't go. This morning when I woke up I was thinking how I would tell them (in German of course) that I wanted to go if it weren't so late, and another time when we don't have such a full weekend, we will go.
Is it just me, or does it sound like I'm living in an opera? Albanians? Cafe Mumu (isn't the cafe in Boheme called something like that)?
Anyway. I've been thinking about what I want to accomplish this summer as a singer. I believe I wrote a while ago about how I tend to be insecure about my singing and my technique. I think I need to work out for myself what works for my voice and what doesn't and stick to it, and I need to stop trying to please everyone and trust my own judgement. That is my goal for this summer, while I am away from MY teacher and working with many different teachers and coaches who I neither know nor know if I can trust, who don't know my voice yet or my journey.
The opportunity to go to cafes in the middle of the night with German-speaking Albanians is, I suppose, just a bonus.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Wie essen! (we eat!)
Well, I've been wondering what to write about because the past few days have been more of the same. We have rehearsals and German class every day, sometimes I have individual lessons or coachings, and I've been practicing German as much as possible. I'm also spending way too much money on food.
So far, my friend Melissa and I have gone out to dinner several times. Eating out is much cheaper here than in the States, but I still can't afford to do it every day. But Melissa and I have sampled Czech food, Chinese food, Italian food, and of course lots of German food. There's a Mexican/Indian place (is it just me, or is that really strange combination?) we want to try. The only thing I haven't tried is American food. I'm told it's different here and therefore interesting, but let's be honest: I don't care that much for American food at home. I don't want to eat it here. I certainly don't want to go to McDonald's--ugh!
German food, however, is amazing. For the first few days I tried to follow my Stateside dietary guidelines--low gluten, low dairy, and very careful about meat. But after a few days, I was told that most meat here is probably not factory farmed, especially if I buy it from the butcher or the street vendors. And the bread is all fresh-baked, which at home I usually find easier on my stomach, gluten-free or not. So I've been eating bread rolls from every bakery (backerie), brotwurst from the street vendors, and ice cream cones (ok, I think they were gelato or yogurt, which I eat at home) from the little Eiscafes. And have I mentioned the coffee? I may never drink drip coffee again. Well, I'm sure I will, but I won't enjoy it for a long time. I am completely spoiled for coffee in the States. Here, every little shop sells Kaffee--and it's not drip coffee. It's French press or espresso, and it's billig (cheap)! A small cup is usually less than one Euro, and I add some milk and sugar. It's strong and foamy and oh, so good! Amazingly, even though I've been eating everything, I feel great! I haven't had the tiniest allergic symptom since I've been here. My stomach, so sensitive at home to any change in diet or schedule, has been fine since the first day of exhaustion. However, I am being very careful about how much I eat, because despite all the exercise, I think the warnings I had about the possibility of gaining weight are true. If I didn't pay attention, I think I could get very fat here.Everything is so delicious!
However, there has been an issue this week with fresh fruits and vegetables here. There's been a bacteria on some produce, and a number of people in Germany have gotten food poisoning. Two people from our group--Anne, one of the teachers, and Susan, the wife of one of the coaches, have gotten sick. Today we were all officially warned to thoroughly wash and/or cook everything, and to immediately tell the group leader if we have any symptoms of food poisoning. But most of us are still fine, and hopefully no one else will get sick.
Today for lunch Melissa and I ate at a Fleischerie--a butcher shop. I wasn't sure what to order because I didn't know any of the words on the menu. I looked at what some other people had and ended up getting some help from a nice couple who spoke some English. The husband turned out to be a Romanian who plays cello in the orchestra for the opera house! His wife spoke very good English and helped me order. I ended up with a Schnitzel, which turned out to be a chicken patty, and mashed potatoes. It was great and I ate it all without even considering whether the chicken was free-range. Then Melissa and I sat at a sort of picnic table outside.
Now, I have heard that here it's acceptable to just sit down with people you don't know in a cafe if there are chairs available. Today, this happened! A German guy--a student--came and joined us. So we spoke with him in broken and slow German, a little English, and some Spanish--which he spoke as well. He was very nice and helpful and taught me to say "I like to practice German": "Ich ΓΌbe gern Deutch." That will probably be my new favorite phrase.
So far, my friend Melissa and I have gone out to dinner several times. Eating out is much cheaper here than in the States, but I still can't afford to do it every day. But Melissa and I have sampled Czech food, Chinese food, Italian food, and of course lots of German food. There's a Mexican/Indian place (is it just me, or is that really strange combination?) we want to try. The only thing I haven't tried is American food. I'm told it's different here and therefore interesting, but let's be honest: I don't care that much for American food at home. I don't want to eat it here. I certainly don't want to go to McDonald's--ugh!
German food, however, is amazing. For the first few days I tried to follow my Stateside dietary guidelines--low gluten, low dairy, and very careful about meat. But after a few days, I was told that most meat here is probably not factory farmed, especially if I buy it from the butcher or the street vendors. And the bread is all fresh-baked, which at home I usually find easier on my stomach, gluten-free or not. So I've been eating bread rolls from every bakery (backerie), brotwurst from the street vendors, and ice cream cones (ok, I think they were gelato or yogurt, which I eat at home) from the little Eiscafes. And have I mentioned the coffee? I may never drink drip coffee again. Well, I'm sure I will, but I won't enjoy it for a long time. I am completely spoiled for coffee in the States. Here, every little shop sells Kaffee--and it's not drip coffee. It's French press or espresso, and it's billig (cheap)! A small cup is usually less than one Euro, and I add some milk and sugar. It's strong and foamy and oh, so good! Amazingly, even though I've been eating everything, I feel great! I haven't had the tiniest allergic symptom since I've been here. My stomach, so sensitive at home to any change in diet or schedule, has been fine since the first day of exhaustion. However, I am being very careful about how much I eat, because despite all the exercise, I think the warnings I had about the possibility of gaining weight are true. If I didn't pay attention, I think I could get very fat here.Everything is so delicious!
However, there has been an issue this week with fresh fruits and vegetables here. There's been a bacteria on some produce, and a number of people in Germany have gotten food poisoning. Two people from our group--Anne, one of the teachers, and Susan, the wife of one of the coaches, have gotten sick. Today we were all officially warned to thoroughly wash and/or cook everything, and to immediately tell the group leader if we have any symptoms of food poisoning. But most of us are still fine, and hopefully no one else will get sick.
Today for lunch Melissa and I ate at a Fleischerie--a butcher shop. I wasn't sure what to order because I didn't know any of the words on the menu. I looked at what some other people had and ended up getting some help from a nice couple who spoke some English. The husband turned out to be a Romanian who plays cello in the orchestra for the opera house! His wife spoke very good English and helped me order. I ended up with a Schnitzel, which turned out to be a chicken patty, and mashed potatoes. It was great and I ate it all without even considering whether the chicken was free-range. Then Melissa and I sat at a sort of picnic table outside.
Now, I have heard that here it's acceptable to just sit down with people you don't know in a cafe if there are chairs available. Today, this happened! A German guy--a student--came and joined us. So we spoke with him in broken and slow German, a little English, and some Spanish--which he spoke as well. He was very nice and helpful and taught me to say "I like to practice German": "Ich ΓΌbe gern Deutch." That will probably be my new favorite phrase.
Saturday, May 21, 2011
Ich verstehe ein Bisschen Deutch
Yesterday was a banner day: I was right about directions. My friend Melissa and I were riding our bikes to German class. We came to an intersection and she said, "I think it's this way," indicating the right. "I thought it was to the left," said I, "so you're probably right." (It's always safe for me to assume my instinct is wrong when it comes to directions.) So we rode a little way and then realized we were going the wrong way. Melissa said, "I think I was wrong! I think we should have gone left." We turned around and headed back. Sure enough, when we got to the next intersection--there we were! Take a right across the park, past the shirtless German boys sitting by the roundabout in the park (seriously: every time I've passed this spot, there has been a group of at least 8 half-naked German guys just hanging out and showing off. They remind me of my neighbors The Keg Boys in college--do they ever go to class?), and straight up the hill to German class on the right!
Today I walked from the hotel to the downtown area by myself. On the way I was greeted (for no reason I could see except that I was smiling like an idiot) by a Vietnamese man. He spoke German to me, of course, and I had to answer with what is quickly becoming my favorite phrase: "Ich verstehe ein Bisschen Deutch " (I understand a little German). He asked me where I was from and told me he was from Vietnam. Then he said some other things I didn't understand, to which I smiled and nodded, and then we said goodbye.
At least I can carry on the beginning and end of a conversation, even if I miss the entire middle!
Today's highlight, however, was the snowman (der Schneemann). When I arrived downtown, I ran into Andrew, one of the pianists from our program. We both wanted to do some shopping and started to wander in that direction together. We had a sing-through of Suor Angelica this afternoon, but at that time we had about an hour before that happened. So we're just meandering along, looking in the shops (the few that are open! a lot of places close on Saturday!), and suddenly Andrew says, "Rachel, there's a snowman behind you." I turned around and stared. Indeed, there was a man in a very large snowman costume walking down the street. So I waved. "Allo," said the Snowman. "Allo," I replied. Then, of course, he said something I didn't understand. I of course brought back my signature phrase: "Ich vershehe ein Bisschen Deutch!" He replied, "Is ok, I am international Snowman!"
Well, you don't meet one of THOSE every day.
So we chatted with the Snowman a little, in rough English (on his part) and worse German (on mine). We learned that he was advertising the grand opening of a costume shop just down the street ("Two hundred meters! Only two yards!" "No, that's two hundred yards." "Vat? How many yards in a meter?") He also had coupons for us to get a free hat at the costume shop. Naturally we accepted--how can you refuse a free hat from a new costume shop when you're in Germany?
When we got to the costume shop, there was a cart, like an American old-fashioned ice cream cart, in front of it. But instead of ice cream, the sign said "Cocktails!", and he was selling drinks. I also saw a sign for soda, although I'm not sure that wasn't a lie. "Allo," I said to the man in the cart. "Allo," he replied, and then (again!) something I couldn't understand. "Ja," I smiled and nodded, "ein Coke, bitte?"
So he poured me some champagne in a small plastic cup. It was 50 cents (all his drinks were 50 cents)...and I didn't have the heart to turn it down. Besides, how often will I have the chance to drink champagne for only 50 cents before lunch while wearing a free cowboy hat in Germany? (At this rate, it might be every Saturday. I don't know.)
Those of you who know me know that I am a lightweight. The champagne was delicious and strong, and I had not yet had lunch. I got a little tipsy but had a Doner (a popular kind of sandwich) and a coffee and was almost completely sober by the time we started rehearsal. But it was long, and I really was sober by the time I sang.
Tomorrow we have the day off, but some of us are getting up to hear a Bach cantata in a Lutheran church (and Luther was from Saxony!) accompanied by an organ made by the company that designed Bach's organs. Guess I'd better get some sleep!
Today I walked from the hotel to the downtown area by myself. On the way I was greeted (for no reason I could see except that I was smiling like an idiot) by a Vietnamese man. He spoke German to me, of course, and I had to answer with what is quickly becoming my favorite phrase: "Ich verstehe ein Bisschen Deutch " (I understand a little German). He asked me where I was from and told me he was from Vietnam. Then he said some other things I didn't understand, to which I smiled and nodded, and then we said goodbye.
At least I can carry on the beginning and end of a conversation, even if I miss the entire middle!
Today's highlight, however, was the snowman (der Schneemann). When I arrived downtown, I ran into Andrew, one of the pianists from our program. We both wanted to do some shopping and started to wander in that direction together. We had a sing-through of Suor Angelica this afternoon, but at that time we had about an hour before that happened. So we're just meandering along, looking in the shops (the few that are open! a lot of places close on Saturday!), and suddenly Andrew says, "Rachel, there's a snowman behind you." I turned around and stared. Indeed, there was a man in a very large snowman costume walking down the street. So I waved. "Allo," said the Snowman. "Allo," I replied. Then, of course, he said something I didn't understand. I of course brought back my signature phrase: "Ich vershehe ein Bisschen Deutch!" He replied, "Is ok, I am international Snowman!"
Well, you don't meet one of THOSE every day.
So we chatted with the Snowman a little, in rough English (on his part) and worse German (on mine). We learned that he was advertising the grand opening of a costume shop just down the street ("Two hundred meters! Only two yards!" "No, that's two hundred yards." "Vat? How many yards in a meter?") He also had coupons for us to get a free hat at the costume shop. Naturally we accepted--how can you refuse a free hat from a new costume shop when you're in Germany?
When we got to the costume shop, there was a cart, like an American old-fashioned ice cream cart, in front of it. But instead of ice cream, the sign said "Cocktails!", and he was selling drinks. I also saw a sign for soda, although I'm not sure that wasn't a lie. "Allo," I said to the man in the cart. "Allo," he replied, and then (again!) something I couldn't understand. "Ja," I smiled and nodded, "ein Coke, bitte?"
So he poured me some champagne in a small plastic cup. It was 50 cents (all his drinks were 50 cents)...and I didn't have the heart to turn it down. Besides, how often will I have the chance to drink champagne for only 50 cents before lunch while wearing a free cowboy hat in Germany? (At this rate, it might be every Saturday. I don't know.)
Those of you who know me know that I am a lightweight. The champagne was delicious and strong, and I had not yet had lunch. I got a little tipsy but had a Doner (a popular kind of sandwich) and a coffee and was almost completely sober by the time we started rehearsal. But it was long, and I really was sober by the time I sang.
Tomorrow we have the day off, but some of us are getting up to hear a Bach cantata in a Lutheran church (and Luther was from Saxony!) accompanied by an organ made by the company that designed Bach's organs. Guess I'd better get some sleep!
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Auf Deutch, bitte!
For the past two days, I have been having SO much fun. We started German classes on Monday (my first ever), so I've had three German classes in my life (an hour and a half each). And now I've been in Germany for three full days (if you count today, which is nearly over). And already I'm starting to be able to communicate well enough to engage my most important superpower of networking.
Last night, Melissa and I went to dinner at the Italian restaurant that is downstairs from our hotel in the same building. Our waiter, Zati (not sure about the spelling), was an Albanian who speaks German, Albanian, and some Serbian--but no English at all. Another waiter helped him communicate with us, but mostly we spoke the universal languages of sign language and telepathy. Fortunately, I'm fluent in both of those, and I'm learning how to say a few things in German as well! We ordered some really delicious food. (I ordered a small veggie pizza and intended to eat part of it and take some home for later. I ate the entire thing--after covering it in the olive oil that was on the table.) We also had a great time trying to talk to him. I asked him how to thank him in Serbian, and he had to ask his father, who was sitting at the next table and looked like he could possibly be part of the Serbian mafia--and who stared at us after I thanked Zati in Serbian. (It's falla, if you're wondering!)
This morning I bravely ventured downtown all alone (alleine)! If you know me at all, you know that I am terrible with directions. I can get lost anywhere, even places I've been many times before. I get lost in people's homes on my way back from the bathroom, and I got lost once backstage at an audition (and that's a story for another blog post, maybe!). So trying to find my way around a strange town in a foreign language which I really don't speak or understand at all is daunting, to say the least. But I am a bold and fearless explorer! So, since I've been following my colleagues around for the past few days, I decided to try exploring on my own a little today. I knew I would probably get lost, but I also knew it was the only way I would ever learn my way around at all. I left the hotel and was relieved to see Zati standing outside the Amici Restaurant with a friend, smoking (everyone seems to smoke here! or at least all the men). So I asked, "Wo ists...downtown? With the cobblestone streets?" (gesturing to the street). Zati looked confused, but his friend seemed to understand. He explained to me slowly, in German: "Gehen (counting on his fingers) einz, zwei, drei Gasse (street)...[some words I didn't understand]...und links (gesturing to the left, a word I already knew)...und...(more incomprehensible words and an arm gesture which clearly meant "continue to the end".
Clear as mud.
So I walked to the third cross street, turned left, kept going straight for a few blocks, and lo and behold! Downtown! Cobblestone streets and all the shops! However, next I had to find my way to the theater for a meeting. But Theater is the same in German, and I was hopeful that I might run into another American from our group, less directionally challenged than myself (as is pretty much everyone in the world), who could lead me to the theater. Sure enough, I saw one buying some bread (Brot) in a little shop almost as soon as I found the downtown. "Brian!" I cried, "I'm glad to see you! Do you know how to get to the theater?" He looked at me oddly. (I think it was right around the corner from where we were.) "Yes." "Whew," said I, "I'm hopeless with directions, you know." We had a little time, so we wandered around a little and I helped him buy a bottle of water (Wasser?, along with a gesture outlining a bottle, and "to go" [spoken in English], with a gesture out the door).
After our meeting, the entire group went together to German class. And after THAT, I had coffee with another member of the group (Ian) at a cafe that was one of the few businesses that survived under Communism. Kinda cool, and the coffee here is just wonderful and cheap. No drip coffee, but French press everywhere for 1 or 2 Euros or even less. And espresso drinks are cheap too. I guess if you like weak coffee it would be awful, but I like it strong and chewy, and I think it's fabulous. I also prefer my water with bubbles, and that's the default here, although they do charge you for the water.
Anyway, after our coffee, Ian had to go back to the theater for rehearsal, and I was headed back to the hotel. I bravely set off on my own without even asking him to explain to me how to get back. I thought I knew--I did so well this morning! But I missed a turn and found myself in completely unfamiliar surroundings.
Well, I knew that was coming. It's the only way I can ever learn my way around a new place: by getting lost a lot. Fortunately I had nowhere to be and nothing particular to do, so for a while I just kept walking. I saw some signs that said "Hotel Kronzprintz" (where we are staying) with an arrow, but eventually I realized I must have missed the turn for the Kronzprintz and had clearly gone too far. So I plucked up my courage and approached a stranger.
"Bitte, wo ists der Bahnhofstrasse?" (The Bahnhofstrasse is the street I'm staying on.) Well, he started speaking German--quite quickly--and I didn't understand. But he gestured down one street and indicated some turns, and I understood--go down that street, then left.
But left where?
Well, nothing for it but to try! So I started down that street hoping I might recognize the turn (yeah, right!), but knowing I could always ask for directions again. Soon enough I decided I was pretty lost again. So again I approached a stranger: "Bitte, wo ists der Bahnhofstrasse? Hotel Kronzprintz?" Again the flood of German. Is my accent good enough that they think I'll understand? Or are they actually speaking slowly and carefully and I just can't understand anyway? Again I followed the gestures, but again, after a few blocks, I decided I needed directions again.
Well, you know the drill. This man was actually more helpful--the other two were helpful but didn't seem to know any English, so they couldn't even give me a few words--and took some time and even walked a few steps with me to point me in the right direction. He explained several times, in English and German, until I actually understood what to do. Also the directions were shorter this time, since each round of getting lost had actually gotten me a little closer to my destination. So I walked down the street, turned left, and--voila! I was on the Bahnhofstrasse. A few blocks down I saw the Amici restaurant, which meant I was home. What a relief!
Of course I was wearing my sandals, which gave me some blisters. But it was totally worth it. I was actually very excited that I was able to communicate well enough to get home, even though I did have to ask multiple people. The truth is, I probably would have had to do the same thing in a city where everyone spoke English. It hardly has to do with the language barrier, just my problems with direction!!
Tonight Melissa and I went out to dinner again--this time to a Czech restaurant. Yes, you read that right. I know I should be eating more German food--and I am--and I will--but seriously?? Italian is one thing, since we have it in the States, but how many chances will I have to eat Czech food? We ordered an appetizer, a salad, and an entree and just shared everything.
Fortunately the waiter spoke German and some English. Not Czech, although I did ask him to read for me the Czech names of the dishes we ordered. And the menu was in all three of those languages. Our salad had this description in English: This everyone in Czech Republic loves. Good enough for me! It was fabulous--a thick chunk of Camembert cheese on toast with salad, which I'm pretty sure was made from local greens, because they were really fresh and delicious. It was also more expensive than most restaurants here--about the same as a nice sit-down place in Virginia--say Clementine's in Harrisonburg or maybe the Mockingbird in Staunton. I should stop eating out so much, although mostly it's very cheap, but it's such a great way to practice German!
Last night, Melissa and I went to dinner at the Italian restaurant that is downstairs from our hotel in the same building. Our waiter, Zati (not sure about the spelling), was an Albanian who speaks German, Albanian, and some Serbian--but no English at all. Another waiter helped him communicate with us, but mostly we spoke the universal languages of sign language and telepathy. Fortunately, I'm fluent in both of those, and I'm learning how to say a few things in German as well! We ordered some really delicious food. (I ordered a small veggie pizza and intended to eat part of it and take some home for later. I ate the entire thing--after covering it in the olive oil that was on the table.) We also had a great time trying to talk to him. I asked him how to thank him in Serbian, and he had to ask his father, who was sitting at the next table and looked like he could possibly be part of the Serbian mafia--and who stared at us after I thanked Zati in Serbian. (It's falla, if you're wondering!)
This morning I bravely ventured downtown all alone (alleine)! If you know me at all, you know that I am terrible with directions. I can get lost anywhere, even places I've been many times before. I get lost in people's homes on my way back from the bathroom, and I got lost once backstage at an audition (and that's a story for another blog post, maybe!). So trying to find my way around a strange town in a foreign language which I really don't speak or understand at all is daunting, to say the least. But I am a bold and fearless explorer! So, since I've been following my colleagues around for the past few days, I decided to try exploring on my own a little today. I knew I would probably get lost, but I also knew it was the only way I would ever learn my way around at all. I left the hotel and was relieved to see Zati standing outside the Amici Restaurant with a friend, smoking (everyone seems to smoke here! or at least all the men). So I asked, "Wo ists...downtown? With the cobblestone streets?" (gesturing to the street). Zati looked confused, but his friend seemed to understand. He explained to me slowly, in German: "Gehen (counting on his fingers) einz, zwei, drei Gasse (street)...[some words I didn't understand]...und links (gesturing to the left, a word I already knew)...und...(more incomprehensible words and an arm gesture which clearly meant "continue to the end".
Clear as mud.
So I walked to the third cross street, turned left, kept going straight for a few blocks, and lo and behold! Downtown! Cobblestone streets and all the shops! However, next I had to find my way to the theater for a meeting. But Theater is the same in German, and I was hopeful that I might run into another American from our group, less directionally challenged than myself (as is pretty much everyone in the world), who could lead me to the theater. Sure enough, I saw one buying some bread (Brot) in a little shop almost as soon as I found the downtown. "Brian!" I cried, "I'm glad to see you! Do you know how to get to the theater?" He looked at me oddly. (I think it was right around the corner from where we were.) "Yes." "Whew," said I, "I'm hopeless with directions, you know." We had a little time, so we wandered around a little and I helped him buy a bottle of water (Wasser?, along with a gesture outlining a bottle, and "to go" [spoken in English], with a gesture out the door).
After our meeting, the entire group went together to German class. And after THAT, I had coffee with another member of the group (Ian) at a cafe that was one of the few businesses that survived under Communism. Kinda cool, and the coffee here is just wonderful and cheap. No drip coffee, but French press everywhere for 1 or 2 Euros or even less. And espresso drinks are cheap too. I guess if you like weak coffee it would be awful, but I like it strong and chewy, and I think it's fabulous. I also prefer my water with bubbles, and that's the default here, although they do charge you for the water.
Anyway, after our coffee, Ian had to go back to the theater for rehearsal, and I was headed back to the hotel. I bravely set off on my own without even asking him to explain to me how to get back. I thought I knew--I did so well this morning! But I missed a turn and found myself in completely unfamiliar surroundings.
Well, I knew that was coming. It's the only way I can ever learn my way around a new place: by getting lost a lot. Fortunately I had nowhere to be and nothing particular to do, so for a while I just kept walking. I saw some signs that said "Hotel Kronzprintz" (where we are staying) with an arrow, but eventually I realized I must have missed the turn for the Kronzprintz and had clearly gone too far. So I plucked up my courage and approached a stranger.
"Bitte, wo ists der Bahnhofstrasse?" (The Bahnhofstrasse is the street I'm staying on.) Well, he started speaking German--quite quickly--and I didn't understand. But he gestured down one street and indicated some turns, and I understood--go down that street, then left.
But left where?
Well, nothing for it but to try! So I started down that street hoping I might recognize the turn (yeah, right!), but knowing I could always ask for directions again. Soon enough I decided I was pretty lost again. So again I approached a stranger: "Bitte, wo ists der Bahnhofstrasse? Hotel Kronzprintz?" Again the flood of German. Is my accent good enough that they think I'll understand? Or are they actually speaking slowly and carefully and I just can't understand anyway? Again I followed the gestures, but again, after a few blocks, I decided I needed directions again.
Well, you know the drill. This man was actually more helpful--the other two were helpful but didn't seem to know any English, so they couldn't even give me a few words--and took some time and even walked a few steps with me to point me in the right direction. He explained several times, in English and German, until I actually understood what to do. Also the directions were shorter this time, since each round of getting lost had actually gotten me a little closer to my destination. So I walked down the street, turned left, and--voila! I was on the Bahnhofstrasse. A few blocks down I saw the Amici restaurant, which meant I was home. What a relief!
Of course I was wearing my sandals, which gave me some blisters. But it was totally worth it. I was actually very excited that I was able to communicate well enough to get home, even though I did have to ask multiple people. The truth is, I probably would have had to do the same thing in a city where everyone spoke English. It hardly has to do with the language barrier, just my problems with direction!!
Tonight Melissa and I went out to dinner again--this time to a Czech restaurant. Yes, you read that right. I know I should be eating more German food--and I am--and I will--but seriously?? Italian is one thing, since we have it in the States, but how many chances will I have to eat Czech food? We ordered an appetizer, a salad, and an entree and just shared everything.
Fortunately the waiter spoke German and some English. Not Czech, although I did ask him to read for me the Czech names of the dishes we ordered. And the menu was in all three of those languages. Our salad had this description in English: This everyone in Czech Republic loves. Good enough for me! It was fabulous--a thick chunk of Camembert cheese on toast with salad, which I'm pretty sure was made from local greens, because they were really fresh and delicious. It was also more expensive than most restaurants here--about the same as a nice sit-down place in Virginia--say Clementine's in Harrisonburg or maybe the Mockingbird in Staunton. I should stop eating out so much, although mostly it's very cheap, but it's such a great way to practice German!
Monday, May 16, 2011
The same, but different....
I'm actually a little disappointed by how little culture shock I feel. When we flew out of Munich (and I had a window seat), I kept looking at the landscape--the grass, trees, and houses--hoping to see something completely different from what I'm used to. I told myself the grass was a different color and the forest made me think of Grimm's fairy tales, as if a wolf or an old woman in a candy house might be hiding in it. But really, things are not so different here.
This morning my alarm went off at 7, and as I lay in bed thinking about getting up, I heard a garbage truck outside. I looked out the window at the familiar sound. The garbage men wore bright orange coveralls, and as I watched, a student in a rode by on a bicycle, wearing a backpack. Cars drove carefully around the garbage truck, and a man walking a beagle came into view and stopped to light a cigarette. I could be in any city in the world, and yesterday at the convenience store, a Lady Gaga concert was playing on the television. (It was "Poker Face.")
But, of course, unlike every other city in the world, this city is full of Germans. One of the girls in the program said to me yesterday that, in general, the German men look and dress a bit like American gay men, and the women look a bit like American lesbians. As a stereotype that is somewhat (although not entirely) true, which is of course how I developed one of my favorite games to play when people-watching in New York City: Gay or European? (Do I need to explain how to play? It's a simple guessing game. Here's where I got the idea: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PpFlR5t4WGw)
Anyway, it's time to get ready for the day! Today I have more free time than yesterday, so I'll be able to practice a little (finally! I don't go three days without practicing at least a little unless I'm sick), and I also have a small staging rehearsal for Suor Angelica--for only the two Angelicas and the two Genevives. I'm glad to be starting so early...I hope I remember my music! But I'll review everything this afternoon before German class.
This morning my alarm went off at 7, and as I lay in bed thinking about getting up, I heard a garbage truck outside. I looked out the window at the familiar sound. The garbage men wore bright orange coveralls, and as I watched, a student in a rode by on a bicycle, wearing a backpack. Cars drove carefully around the garbage truck, and a man walking a beagle came into view and stopped to light a cigarette. I could be in any city in the world, and yesterday at the convenience store, a Lady Gaga concert was playing on the television. (It was "Poker Face.")
But, of course, unlike every other city in the world, this city is full of Germans. One of the girls in the program said to me yesterday that, in general, the German men look and dress a bit like American gay men, and the women look a bit like American lesbians. As a stereotype that is somewhat (although not entirely) true, which is of course how I developed one of my favorite games to play when people-watching in New York City: Gay or European? (Do I need to explain how to play? It's a simple guessing game. Here's where I got the idea: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PpFlR5t4WGw)
Anyway, it's time to get ready for the day! Today I have more free time than yesterday, so I'll be able to practice a little (finally! I don't go three days without practicing at least a little unless I'm sick), and I also have a small staging rehearsal for Suor Angelica--for only the two Angelicas and the two Genevives. I'm glad to be starting so early...I hope I remember my music! But I'll review everything this afternoon before German class.
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