I apologize for the month-long drought without my wit and insight, the last two weeks I have been on vacation and frankly there hasn't been much to talk about. The news this past month has also been so depressing that it has been hard not to be affected by it. It is pretty incredible that we are simultaneously witnessing our political system lose whatever pathetic shreds of credibility it once held on to while manufacturing a second economic crisis. This ugly episode just confirms that most Republicans seem to have no soul while most Democrats seem to have no balls. Who would have thought a day would come when the Baby-boomers pined for the reincarnation of LBJ to get Congress to work again. All the while we have created with China the economic equivalent of Mutually Assured Destruction, and are waging four wars. Please, Ron Paul, save us from ourselves. European leadership is proving to be similarly ineffective in solving it's own debt crisis, but should we be surprised that a continent which has been in a near-constant state of war for most of its existence isn't able to work as a single functioning political/economic entity?
While you all have been enduring one of the hottest and most grueling Summers on record, Germany has been having one of it's wettest and crappiest Summers ever. It has rained most of the days since I last wrote, even an escape to Munich for the past week offered no respite, even though normally if the weather is bad in the North of the country it's good in the South and vice-versa. This Summer, however, is so bad that it has trumped this adage.
The day I left for Munich was actually one of the only sunny days we've had so far, but it was terribly humid. My old housemates in Munich are most hospitable, one guy who is dating a girl in the house was so kind as to let me stay in his room for the week and even provided clean bedding and a towel, a luxury for college students. It is also tough to get them to let me pay for anything as they still treat me as a guest. In exchange for their kindness I agreed to pick up a used espresso machine from someone living not far from me in Berlin, originally a 500 Euro piece of equipment they got for 80. The machine ended up weighing 25 pounds and by the time I got to the subway station lugging the machine and my backpack. I was moving quickly and running late, sweating profusely in the Sun and humidity. As I looked down the long flight of stairs at the subway I caught a glimpse of a taxi parked nearby and decided to not take the chance of running late. The Turkish cab driver gave me a funny look then popped the trunk, it turned out to be a very well spent 10 Euros. I arrived in time to catch my train, but didn't have time to eat before the 6 hour train ride as I planned. No problem I thought, I'll grab something to eat in the dining car.
I thought wrong, the food service crew's train into Berlin was late and the normal train workers are not licensed to serve food. After some negotiating I was able to procure a Snicker's bar and a bottle of beer for an extortionate price. I successfully napped for most of the train ride to unconsciously avoid my hunger and ate the first thing I saw when I arrived in the Munich train station, which was the German equivalent of a meatloaf sandwich in a dinner roll. I thought I had arrived in the sunny wonderland of alpine foothills but the next morning woke to rain, and it continued to rain for at least half the day, everyday but one, for the rest of my visit. Our one rain-less day (I hesitate to use the word "sunny") we grilled outside of our building and indulged our colons in a variety of flame-kissed meat. We were even so lucky as to be joined by one of the Chinese students in the building, who normally do not mix readily with the round-eyed devils. After about a beer and a half he was drunk and pretty entertaining, reveling in the ability to be openly intoxicated which is very looked down upon in their society. That is not to say there aren't drunks on the streets of China. I have friends who studied abroad in China and said people would get wasted on Baijiu, which is essentially the liquor of the proletariat, a Chinese firewater costing a dollar or two for a bottle.
Our mobility being impeded by the weather, we focused on feasting, trying to prepare dishes that took as much time as possible while joking around in the kitchen and common room, and playing foosball (table soccer, which they call "kicker") in the basement. One night I made a big pot of my great-grandmother's beef stew which my old housemates remembered fondly, and was appropriate for a chilly and rainy August evening. I also helped with the painting of an old tandem bike that was being reconstructed for a trip to the Czech Republic. It was to be painted with tiger stripes in an allusion to a German children's book. I took it to be a more uplifting story than a Brothers Grimm fairy-tale, which usually involve children who don't listen to their mothers being brutally maimed or killed. The American versions are considerably watered down.
****************************************************
It is not possible for me at the moment to deliver the wedding pictures I promised from last time, so instead I will include a short piece about the Christopher Street Day Parade (Gay Pride Parade) in Berlin a few weeks ago.
It doesn't need to be a festival day in Berlin to see Peter Rabbit and whatever the hell the other guy is supposed to be playing for change on the street. In fact, you can be exposed to a wide variety of music just by riding the subway here, from Spanish guitar to Ukulele to some young kid who thinks he's a hippie. I've heard some pretty good blues guitar being played in the subway station and jazz saxophone being played on a street corner. At the subway stop I get off at every day to pick up the kids there is a young guy who plays everything on the accordion from Beethoven to Rock n' Roll, and a woman in the square I cross who is obviously an accomplished violinist. Unfortunately for them musicians, like graphic artists and English teachers, are a dime a dozen in the this town, but from what I hear people playing music on the subway can do as well as 20 or 30 Euro's an hour, while occasionally having to run away from the subway police for performing without a license.
Look! A real American Indian! Standing as still as a cigar store statue...
There are tons of party buses during the parade blasting music. On the back of this one are posters saying "Save the Sausages" in an advertisement for condom use. It is interesting to watch a gay pride parade on the same boulevard where my grandfather witnessed the armies of Nazi Germany marching out of the city to invade Poland seventy years earlier.
Here we see the homosexuals of ancient Rome brought back to life for a day. I wonder where this guy keeps his chariot stashed all year, perhaps he owns a bike rental service and uses it for advertising.
In an unprecedented reversal of opinion, even the Holy See has sent representatives to partake in this day of good will and friendliness. Benedict XVI looks much better in person, I guess Popes aren't elected for how photogenic they are.
Well, that's all folks!
No comments:
Post a Comment