New blog announcement

Sorry...it's taken way longer to let you all know that we are moving blogs. New location, new career paths, new member of the family have all contributed to the new web address.

Please go to our new blog called Aix-Aix-Aix!

http://thebergmanscruz.wordpress.com

Beef, red beans and Edith Piaf

Hmm..this blog is becoming less and less about Strasbourg...this entry is all Kyoto..Japan. 

So tonight I got a rare insight of life with my mom when I'm not around.  Her pal took us out to eat beef.  In Kyoto this is a serious affair.  The beef is served raw on a bed of rice..like sushi, or slightly grilled, or in little balls all tastefully accomp

anied with delicate vegetables.  After a few be

ef dishes, we get to meet the cow that fed us...well th

e certificate that is.  Yup this place actual

ly buys an entire cow and they have the paperwork to prove it.  We learned the name, where it was born, how old was the lad, his licence number, what was his last meal and skin complexion.  This was proudly displayed with a certificate of authenticity at the center of ouor table.  Sorry bess, but you taste mighty fine!

Sadly it was time to go back to the conference centre, and back to work for our hos

t.  Our taxi driver, inspired with our french speaking, sneakily finds Edith Piaf tunes to whom my mom and her pal immediately start singing and whooing the taxi driver!  The guy was so drunk with infatuation that he missed the turn off..twice!

Fountains

If you have been to Aix, then you know it's the land of the fountain. Every block or two, a fountain has managed to be built, usually in a formidable manner right smack in the middle of a courtyard or road so as to be noticed and awed. What we learned when we moved here is that Aix had been riddled with the plague, so to bring in water, the Aixois politicians decided to not only build faucets all over the city, but beautiful fountains of all shapes and sizes. There is one fountain in the city that still has warm thermal water while the rest are cold. However, I discovered that the moss fountains which are in the middle of Cours Mirabeau, the main drag of Aix, are both supposed to have warm water too. So this forced me to go to the Tourism Office to solve this mystery. It turns out, after waiting in line for 15 minutes, wondering if I really needed to know, that the warm water will come in the winter. For the summer, they turn off the warm tap and bring in the cool water as to keep the hot city a little cooler.

Mystery solved. Now I can sleep.

New town, one-handed

So we've moved...yet again. This time, it's temporarily in Aix-en-Provence, the heart of provence where, oh yeah, thermal spas used to and still exist!!! We officially put our bags into the apt on Sep 7...at night...and then early morning Sep 8, I went into labour. So in essence, Aix and the new apt has been my reality only since coming home with Mila on the 15th.

So far, so awesome. Mila sleeps! Mila eats! Mila farts like a trucker! Which means exploring our new home has been actually pretty easy and fun to do. So far, we've become regulars at the everyday food market, finally found the Saturday market today (the best market in France, hands down, well, from what I know of this country), figured out where to print stuff for Axel (across the street...it's his regular hangout), found an ADEQUATE boulangerie for all things croissant (this will be another project I hope to partake in the coming months), and have figured out a way to nap whenever possible.




Even though this blog was originally about Alsace, we must move on. Still debating about the possible blog title change. Though Alsace was really the beginning of this adventure, so I don't really wanna lose it. So because it's really about French living, I will refrain from posting my new mama and papa trials and tribulations on here and focus on our new digs and all things that come with it. However, I will post a few things about birthing and having kids in france that I think will be interesting to those out of the country who read this blog, only because of the great healthcare debate/debacle happening in the good ol' US of A. It's been very interesting to see what our money and insurance gets us (and her).

So I hope to get back on the blog bandwagon sooner than later and give you all some insight to Aix, provence, and southern french administration (if you thought Strasbourg administration was an adventure...!)

for a little blog break...

...we just had pickles! At 6:08 am this morning (Sept 8, yes a month early). It's a girl. Mila (and maybe Mahara...still trying to figure out if this works ok in french), and 2.27 kg (5 lbs almost exactly). She came out after 24.5 hours of some pretty intense work and a lot of debate whether it would be possible for me to get her out because of the narrowness of the pelvis. Well, she made it out through the pelvis so now we know the weight limit of birthing for me. My water broke at 5:30 am on the 7th so we had no choice but to birth today.

Axel is pretty tired having to snooze on various chairs all day and night but he has started the real entry for this. Just thought I would let you all know that we're parents!

where to buy a bike in köln...and how to test your german

this comes with a disclaimer that I was only brought to this shop unknowingly.

Russian 1 had come to class a bit late way back in June and squeezed himself in the corner of the room next to the window, where there was already little space. Every 5 minutes, he would get up and look outside the window. At the break, he ran out and I watched him go and check his bike locks. When he came back in, I asked him if it was a new bike, and he said yes and he put two locks on it to make sure it wouldn't get stolen.

We have looked around quite a few bike stores and noticed that it is way more expensive to buy a bike here than in France, so I was curious to how much he paid for his bike. He told me that after class, he will bring me to the store. Price is too crazy to talk about in class.

Well, did that every peak my curiosity. After class, a few of us went to check out his new bike. Aluminum frame with apparent good quality welding, disc brakes, racing wheels...he got this and another similar bike for 300 euros total. wow. Axel and I have seen crappy bikes for more than 300 euros, used crappy bikes go for 100-200 euros. So yeah, this was a good price. Especially for 2! So we all went to the bike store together. It is on my way to school and I noticed it but saw that all they had in the front of the store was crappy old used bikes. When we went in, spoke russian, he took us to the back of the store...and there they were. Gleaming frames, with no labels, all waiting to be ridden. The owner was very wary of us being there, since there was only one who could speak russian, but he reassured him that we were all friends.

So now I can safely say that I know where to buy a bike in Köln. And that I'm in with the russian mafia.

Anyway, a few weeks later, I brought our roommate Jonatan and two of Axel's co-workers, Sarah from Scotland and Matthieu from France. I tried to get him to show us the back room without asking but because we weren't russian, there was no way he would. However, this was the first time I tested my german, in a real setting. Not only did we manage to purchase two bikes, but I got a discount through a bit of bargaining. I managed to impress myself. I realize now it's all about the confidence when you speak german. The sentence structure is crazy, but when it comes down to it, can almost be avoided entirely when bargaining for bikes with russians who really just want you out of your store.

Banned

It's true. Pregnancy really fills you up with raging hormones that cause you such weird emotions. Yesterday I cried when I read about Sam, the koala that was rescued last year during the Australian bush fires who drank water from a bottle, had to be euthanized.

This morning I sent Axel an article about some french tourists who died in a flash flood during an excursion on Mt. Pinatubo, the volcano near my town in the Philippines which erupted in the early 90s...and that region is still feeling the repercussions. Anyway, I thought it would be interesting for Axel since he went with my uncles on the exact same trip in 2006. That's all. There were no tears shed for this story. Just out of pure interest.

This was his response:


"Ok you are officially banned from reading depressing news from around the world. 
Headlines that contain the words:
Afganistan
Iran
Iraq
Dead
Missing
Torture
Kidnapped
Gangs
Hurricane
..any natural disaster
Politics
North Korea
homeless
refugee
kids
woman
racism
plane
crash
survivors
shooting
bomb
suicide
money
corporate
business
drugs
 
..are all off the headline LIST!!  until next year.
 
That leaves:
 
Home
Familly
Sports
Cycling
Hockey
Tourism
Design
Technology
Medicine
Post Cards
Health
Cooking
Gardening
Kids
Parenting
Dogs
Cats
Pets..especially articles that provide tips on resisting the urge to get one
Interior design
Sustainable development
Green energy
Space"

It's as if Axel is intentionally wanting to turn my brain to mush.
 
 

KSD

Last Sunday, Axel and were accompanied by Lisa, our landlady, to the Asian Museum. She really wanted to take us because she thought we would would enjoy it since we know much about Asia (by default and by circumstance). To be polite, we said yes, and in reality, it was pretty cool. The only thing is that it was all in German, so in a way it was good to just cruise through and not be able to read anything.

However, the highlight of the trip was not the museum, or the free food we got at the cafe because it just reopened, but the cemetery we went through to get there! It's called Melaten and it is just south of where we live (a total of 8 minutes on the bike). It's HUGE and it's beautiful. Cemeteries to me, always look the same, with the tombstones all in a row amongst the grass and dead flowers. But Melaten is full of trees! And tall ones! There are benches everywhere, with little old ladies taking care of their loved ones' plots. It's HUGE too. The link when you click on Melaten takes you to some famous people buried here. The only ones that I think are interesting is the inventor of Eau de Cologne and the woman who died twice.





OK, enough preamble. On our way back through the cemetery, I almost fell off my bike when I saw this:





and just to make sure you see what we saw, here's a closeup:



Appropriately, this was also the weekend that Axel brought home my birthday present. The snoogle. He's been freaking out about how I've been sleeping since I've been carrying a medicine ball in my gut, and the romantic gesture for my birthday resulted in this purchase. It's actually taken a few days to get used to, but now I'm all over it...except when Axel decides he is too. This is evidence that this gift was actually not for me.



I think it's fitting to rename the snoogle our KSD.

PS. I have much to catch up on. The U2 concert! The end of german! The russian mafia bike store! The newest nun! The trips to Strasbourg! Stephane's trip to Köln! And Pickles the giant baby! Apologies for the slack blog this month. I was hit with fatigue during the hot hot weather, and the traveling on top of that got the best of me. But now I'm committed to writing all of these down and sharing.

PPS. This blog entry is dedicated to Jean-Marie, who shares my love for poorly thought english signs in foreign lands. Better than engrish sometimes.

The epic weekend begins with a day of 5 cities

This weekend Axel and I went to Berlin to see the U2 concert. This will be my next blog, but I must first tell you about the Friday, the crazy start to the crazy weekend.

Axel's colleague's partner just gave birth a few weeks ago. Being Canadian and basically living parallel lives to us, we decided that they would be the best people to ask about getting an english-speaking doctor to help us get some tests done that our Strasbourg doctors needed me to do. Unlike in Canada, the US and in France, the labs to get blood work done are not separate but rather part of your doctor's visit in Germany. This means you must make an appointment with a Germany doctor before they suck out all of your blood.

I had spoken to an english-speaking midwife when we first arrived. She was great BUT she is on vacation until the end of August. In addition, to get tests, I would still need to see a doctor anyway, so we went to the doctor recommended by Jason and Laura. I emailed the doctor to ask if it was possible to get tests done and just introduce myself. And hope that she would be able to recommend someone near where we live. Well, it turns out her english isn't as good as we thought it would be, because her response to her email was "We are waiting for you the 16.7. at 11.30 Dorotheenstr." So I got myself an appt. (and now I just realized that I arrived a day AFTER I was supposed to...god pregnancy brain is crazy). Anyway, it turns out that getting there was an adventure. It's on a secondary tram line, which means I could take the slowest tram on earth, stopping every 5 blocks from Köln to Bonn, without having to get off. OR I could do a 3 transfer trip, saving myself about 20 minutes. Being a lot less mobile makes decisions like this easy. However, taking transit in Köln means that you must have enough change to pay for the trip or have a german credit card. I, unfortunately, had neither, but because Axel and I have rebelled for months without paying, I figure I would pay for a ticket half-way and see if I get caught. Well, I got caught, but I feigned ignorant and won.

I got to Bonn and, thanks to google maps (which finally didn't fail me in Germany), I got there in 10 minutes. The office was very dated (from the 50s) but clean. The two nurses were very friendly and when I gave them my card, they didn't take the numbers or anything. In fact, they didn't charge me at all. I still don't understand why not, because all of this was in german, so I'm still waiting for my bill, or whatever. They made me fill out a bunch of forms, and because we did forms in german class in week 2, I had no problem doing it! Woohoo! Deutschkurs comes in handy!

Then I got taken to the back room to get my blood taken, pee and weight. The nurse was super nice and had written questions she needed to ask me in english on a piece of paper. Unfortunately, she didn't understand my responses so I had to pull every german word I knew to respond so that she could kind of get what she was looking for. And then I met the doctor. The only way I can describe her is that she looks like she should be a teacher in Harry Potter. Her hair is all over the place, with clips hanging from random spots that don't actually hold any hair in place, and she was dressed in layers so you couldn't really tell what the actual outfit was. In essence, she was like a cat lady without all of the cats. And when we started our appt, I knew she had a heart of gold. She is one of these women who LOVES babies, loves pregnant bellies and loves her job. We went through some questions and she would ask me, put her pen down and look at me in the eyes to listen to what I had to say. This experience is a stark contrast from my french doctor who's all business with no time for chitchat or eye contact. Then she did an ultrasound and turned to me to say, "Wow, it is HUGE. Can you still breathe?"

I told her I could, and I really only stop once going up 6 flights of stairs to our apt everyday, and she was impressed that I was still able to walk around. So she then asked if the father was really really tall, because she checked the bone growth of not-so-little pickles. I told her no, and she point-blank asked if I was sure Axel was the father. So, we have a giant on our hands. She checked the blood flow of the uterine arteries (both excellent) and the liquid flow of the umbilical cord (also excellent) and then did all of the measurements and figured out that pickles was at the maximum growth for the number of weeks. In other words, it's huge.

So then I left, made my way back to the train station and just backtracked. On my way there, the brakes of the tram started a small fire, which didn't seem to alarm the driver who came and extinguished them during a 5 minute tram break! Ax and I met at the main station, figured out how to get to the middle of nowhere airport where Ryan Air flies from, and started the other half of my day. We hit Krezfeld to switch to get to Weeze, the location of the British Air Force and the emptiest airport on earth. And then we got to Berlin.

Last month, our dear friend, Erin, came all the way to Köln go visit us after a greuling 14 hour interview in Heidelberg (Yes she got the job!!). She is the reason why Ax and I are in Europe in the first place as she had done the ISU summer program (called SSP for more acronym lingo) in 2006 and came back a full blown space geek.

So being surrounded by space cadets meant a day of space for us! We went to axel's awesome job to check out the European astronaut centre! This is THE training center for all European astronauts, training that is a minimum of 4 years with various exercises like learning how to fix something in space by mimicking Zero gravity in a ten meter deep pool. Most parts of the international space station has been made to a 1:1 scale (not all though, because the whole thing is the size of 2 football fields) and astronauts practice orientation and experiments in them. There is a simulator for the Russian mobile that took our own Bob Thirsk up just last month which they practice take off and landing. All of the experiments have their own rooms for practicing the experiments. A fellow canadian and isu alum, Jason, who coincidentally had a wife who just had a baby a couple of weeks ago, walked us through all of the modules and was still thrilled by it all. But this was not the coolest part.

In the storage room of ISS:


Erin, Jason and I:


On one of the exercise machines, trying to look like I'm defying gravity:


Axel pretending to do an experiment:



Jason and Erin in the EAS lobby:



Stewart, yet another Canadian (from Newfoundland) and isu alum, showed
us his area-the control room!!! Most of us reference "Houston" from
the Apollo 13 movie as the control room but in reality it is just the
main one. Europe has two-one in Munich and this one! Russia also has
one but is segregated from the rest. We lucked out because Stewart was
around to show it all to us. The astronauts were sleeping so we
couldn't see them but we saw all of the camera views of the iss of
earth! Wow. It is pretty amazing to see our planet from far away. He
showed us the astronauts' extremely packed schedule (in 5 min
increments!) and all of the things they monitor to ensure all is safe
on board. What was really impressive was the enormity of the planning
and monitoring of 6 people just above our heads. And the sacrifices
these people are making for the advancement of human knowledge of
space and in reality, our own planet. I didn't really get excited
about it until I had seen how many people are really involved in this
cause. And how Stewart and Jason still get excited about what they do.


Here we are in the control room...in the background you can see a feed of "Houston", the main control room.


Erin then got treated to another typical Köln day when we have
visitors - pouring rain. To add to the desolate city feel, it was yet
another holiday in germany so nothing was open. I think we now know
that for next time we tell people to bring an umbrella and make sure
not to come when it's an important day for Jesus.

The wrong day for an ill-fitting shirt

This morning I realized that my favourite shirt has hit maximum stretch and is no longer wearable if I don't want massive cleavage, as my belly stretches it to the limit. But because I was in a hurry to make it to school early, I decided to wear it one last time and just hope that no one notices me popping out of my shirt.

I left 5 minutes early because today is Canada Day so, to celebrate, I decided to pick up a little pastry for german class. You have to get to the bakery early to get the good sweet brotchen or buns and because they are really cheap, they go fast. Well, I got there one customer too late and had to get the bigger (but still the same price) cake instead. Why I like the brotchen is because you don't have to deal with cutting them. Why is this important? You will see in a second.

I got upstairs and found that I was early enough so that only the new students that we are getting this week and our teenager were the only ones there. And when I say new students, I mean two priests. Yes, two priests to match our two nuns. And two gays. As the class trickled in, I went to get some plates and a knife to cut the cake. The two gay boys came in, took one look at the new additions, and looked at me cutting the cake...then american gayboy sat down and motioned for me to pull up my shirt...because not only was I showing way too much, but the priests were also taking note. It was the longest cake cutting I've ever done. It was downhill from there.

I ended up sitting beside one of the priests and my stupid cleavage was an obvious distraction. He kept staring at me...and then at my belly...and then at my hand. I thought I must have had cake on it, until the break when italian gayboy pointed out that I must have looked like a hooker in his eyes because here I was, boobs hanging out, pregnant in a tight shirt, and no wedding ring.

The class seems to get a little wilder and more foul-mouthed when we get new holy people for some reason. Today, we talked about being a fotomodell (model) and our teacher talked about how in Germany, everyone thinks that Heidi Klum is the devil. And then italian gayboy was asked about his tattoos so he took off his shirt to show them off. I spit up my water on the floor when this happened because he's a big, hairy man, so him with the nun and priests in the background was worth a photo (it was way too obvious to take a photo today, so I'm waiting until tomorrow). A little teaser on some of the tattoos: a polkadot bow tie around his neck, a chain that "hangs" from his neck attached to sunglasses on his chest, across his abdomen is written SUPERSTAR with a rollerskate flanking each side, a pencil tattoo behind the right ear and my new favourite, on each of his fingers on his right hand a letter that together spells CAKE because he loves cake.

Because it was their first day, the priests didn't have their books yet, so american gayboy lent them his book and we shared mine...they not only forgot to say thank-you, but they accidentally took his book home. We joked about how it would be sprayed with holy water when gets it back. I tried to make some small talk before they left by asking where they were from. They were not very friendly. In fact, they were borderline rude to me, but when they said "Providence", italian gayboy shouted, "Oh I had an ex-boyfriend from Rhode Island! Providence boys are adventurous!!"

Needless to say, we all decided to go for lunch to debrief. The russian mafia boys, the gayboys, and me, the pregnant hooker (as italian gayboy called me after he saw me "seducing" the priest with my cleavage and belly).

Russian mafia boys:




Gayboys:

It's not a drum solo!

I have been experiencing some pretty funky moves by Pickles this past month. Mostly kicks and turns, but probably once a day, there are hard kicks on one side with really fast movements on the other side. I imagined this to be Pickles figuring out how to use the kick drum with his feet while drumming fast on a snare with its hands. But then I figured it out and looked it up: Hiccups!

There goes my idea of getting pickles to be the next drummer savant.

For those who are keeping tabs, Pickles will officially be 27 weeks big tomorrow (Wednesday). That means, according to these freaky baby websites, it is about 2 pounds (the weight of a head of cauliflower) and about 14 inches (35 cm) from tip to toe. It is very sensitive to light. I tested it. I held a light to my stomach and it moved away from it...and then I did it again, and it still moved away. It moves a lot when I am hungry, while I'm eating and then once I've had enough, gives me a big kick in the bladder and then rests until the next cycle. Also, when Axel's alarm goes, it starts to kick. It has actually kicked Axel in the back and in the butt so it made him get out of bed. It has also figured out a way to put itself in the most awkward spot in the abdomen while riding my bike so I have to slow down or stop all together until it decides to try another spot. And it likes using my ribcage as an upside-down perch. When it does this, I think about my little brother who was obsessed with bats when he was 4-5 and when asked about what he wants to be when he grows up, he said "Nocturnal." So maybe I am growing a part-human, part-bat, part-condiment in the belly right now.


So here's some food for thought. A girl we met through ISU (she did the summer program last year, is TAing this summer session, will be going to the master's this year and is dating one of Axel's classmates) just had a great article written about her. She was born at 28 weeks and was just over a pound. Not only did she survive, but now she's a rocket scientist. This has reassured me that if Pickles does decide to enter the real world way earlier than it needs to, it has a chance to not only survive, but also be good at math. Here's the article link.

not a total bust of a day

Today was my "big" errand day. I had to pick up a train ticket at the main station for my friend Caroline (saved her 25 euros), then go and try to get a part for the bed we currently sleep on because apparently we broke it (although I suspect it was broken before...otherwise this will be the second bed we have broken in europe this year, and please don't think dirty thoughts because you shouldn't be), and then deposit our rent at our landlady's bank because to transfer money from a french bank to a german bank, we have to get mailed to us a special code (which meant that the special code got mailed to our Strasbourg apt) and pay 10 euros for the special transaction.

Another thing to note is that because we haven't established residence in Germany, we can't get a german bank account, so we have to stick with BNP in France, so we can take out cash for free at Deutsche Bank. Don't let the name fool you, because it's not the bank of Deutschland. There is only ONE Deutsche Bank downtown, ONE near our house and ONE in another area that is relatively in the vicinity that we hang out in. The other banks seem to have a hold on every other convenient location for banks and ATMs, so there have been times when Axel and I have been left in the lurch and have had to go home to get money, rather than pay 10 euros at another ATM. Yeah, TEN EUROS!!! Our Spanish roommate had the same problem we have, but for her, there was no sister bank she could go to, so she had to pay 8 euros for ever 100 euros she took out. I don't really understand how the EU could have organized 1 set of currency for the continent without setting up the banking system to do the same. And this is where France surpasses Germany - because in France, all of the ATMs are free with your french account. In Germany, it's not the same.

OK, back to my day. What I haven't mentioned yet is that Germany, like France and I am suspecting the rest of europe, has special hours of operation. What is unlike France where places are closed anywhere from 11h30 - 14h30, is that in Germany, some places are open all through the day, some are closed from 11-12, others 12-13 and still others 13-14. Today was a bust because I got to the bed store at 12h20 and it was closed from 12-13. Because I am a frequent pee-er now that Pickles has proclaimed my bladder his/her kingdom, I knew I couldn't wait for 40 minutes without access to a washroom. So I decided to get to our landlady's bank since I would be able to get there by 1 for the opening...except it closed from 1-2 so I missed both places. So I headed home, ate lunch and peed lots, and headed out again at 4. And then I missed the bank hours because it's open until 6 pm EXCEPT mondays (which was an asterisk and small writing exception...I will read this more carefully next time). And then when I went to the bed place, they told me that it was during assembly that the bed probably started to fall apart because someone torqued it too much and we needed to buy glue.

OK, so why isn't this a total bust? Well, we just found out that we rented our place in Strasbourg for July!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Relief! Now we don't have to worry about paying double rent, AND we can pay our medical insurance for the trimester!! Oh yeah, life is good.

Learning a new language with a mix of people, rather than burnt out university students, really is more fun

I say this because the demographic of the class is as follows:

- 1 x 16 year old Turkish boy who's idea of fun is to try and bum smokes off the guys in the class
- 1 x nun from Japan who took a 9 week english course in Manila just before coming here, thus cannot communicate in any language except silence and awkward gazes (we don't know where the other one went. I have a theory that she was there to make sure that the nun we managed to keep, Sister Christophe, didn't have anyone in class tempting her into something bad)
- 2 x older people - man from Turkey (we still don't get if his name is Aslan or Mehmet...sometimes he uses Aslan and sometimes Mehmet...even the teachers are confused but whenever we ask which name to use, he just says yes) and woman from Poland who came here with her boyfriend after, gasp, DIVORCING her husband (she talks about the divorce in hushed tones)
- 1 x icelandic/croatian - yes, he really is from iceland. He moved here because there are no jobs in Iceland and he said that there are also no women to marry.
- 2 x russians - One guy was born in Georgia, moved to Moscow when he was 10, moved to London when we was 20 and now that he's 30, moved to Köln after meeting a Kölsch girl two months ago. The other couldn't find a job in Russia so came here but after a week, the government told him he needed to learn how to speak german so he is now taking german for 6 months.
- 1 x brazilian girl - I didn't realize this until we had a little gossip session with the gay boys, but she apparently complained about our teachers already because she said they couldn't teach. However, in order to learn how to speak and write german, I figure you have to do your homework (which she never does, I know because I sit beside her everyday), and make an effort to say things with a german accent, not a portuguese accent. Her favourite excuse after being corrected is that in portuguese, they don't have these weird accents.
- 1 x thai girl - she sits on my other side and has decided that I am magic. I mentioned that she thinks I healed her wrist (she convinced herself that without me, she would have needed a cast). She asked me if she could buy the baby a gift, and I said no because it's not necessary, but she told me that it's really for her because it would bring her good luck, so how can I refuse!? So today, she brought me pictures of stuff that she would like to buy for pickles, circled in a catalog. She brings me food every day and if I don't eat it all, she assumes i don't like it and tries a new food the next day. She is here because her younger boyfriend that she met in Thailand wants to marry her but they can't get married until she learns german (according to the govt).
- 2 x gay boys - One is from New Jersey and works at a french bistro near school (which has burlesque nights twice a month). He moved here because he fell in love with a boy online who has lived here for 20 years and is a hair stylist, who wants to make sure that I don't get a "butch cut that all pregnant women seem to think is flattering just before they give birth" so has promised to cut my hair in a flattering way before I pop. The other is originally from Italy, moved to London when he was 17 to pursue fashion, went back to Italy to continue, got a job in NYC for two years, went back to London and then the Netherlands. He then had a choice to go to San Francisco to get his master's in fashion design or settle down for a bit with his german boyfriend...so he chose Köln.

So, now that the intro is done, let me fill you in on why it's more fun and exciting to learn german with a mix of people, rather than the same dreary student crowd. Today, we were asked by our teacher what we did for the weekend. From the crowd, we learned how to say:

- I was grounded because my dad saw me smoking cigarettes with my friends
- I went to a gay bathhouse and felt very fat and hairy
- I went to church to pray and listen to very sad music
- I went to buy another bike from underground russian bike shop where bikes are 25% of the regular price. I can find you a deal if you want one.
- I was naked all weekend at home

During one of our breaks last week, the thai girl asked to take pictures of us. Most of the time, it's usually the girls left in the room while the boys smoke outside, but that day, italian gay boy was there and so got asked to take our picture. He said that Boy George (who you all must know...if you don't, shame on you) taught him how to look sexy in every picture - just blow out softly when the picture is being taken, and you will have that sexy model look. Then he made our nun do the madonna vogue pose, which she had no idea was not madonna, the virgin.

We also get some interesting skits when the gayboys are paired with each other. We have had one skit at a sexy lingerie store where one is asking where to buy some velcro lingerie for his strip show, and another that I did with one where he was the lesbian with bad hair and bad fashion sense, and I was the sales person trying to make her buy more fasionable clothes.

So yeah, no regrets about taking german. It really is fun.

Parrots of Ehrenfeld?!

For those who have seen this documentary, you may have wished that you also had a wild flock of parrots in your backyard. We did.

And now, we do!!!! The park across the street from us has a flock of parrots living in the trees! Unfortunately, they move too fast to get a picture with my phone cam.

Some of you know that birds seem to have a problem with me. We have now attributed it to my newly-found superpower, electromagnetism. Axel is sure that this is screwing up the birds and thinking that they have to fly towards me like they are migrating. Anyway, two days ago I was riding through the park and I got side-swiped by one of the parrots. Sigh, the price you pay for having a superpower.

mein deutsch Kurs - monnat eins

So we are ending the first month of german and can I tell you how fun and hard this language is? I thought learning french was a challenge. It's like easy math compared to german.

Here's why:

1. Artikels (articles) of words: feminine, masculine, neutral. Like in the latin languages like french, spanish and portuguese, BUT these don't have neutral. They also do not correspond to fem and masc in german. For example, the sun = le soleil in french (masculine) is die sonne in german (feminine). So you can't use instinct. There are a FEW ways you can tell if something is masc, fem, or neut but in reality, you have to memorize.

2. Plurals of words: So in english and those other ass-easy languages, to make something plural, you do something logical like add an -s. Well in german, you add either an -s, -en, er, -¨e, -¨er, -e, -, -nen, and so on. In other words, you not only have to know the word in german, its gender but also what it looks like pluralled!

3. W = V, V = F, J = Y, St = Sht, Sp = Shp, ch = almost sh, tsch = ch, ß = ss (sort of). I don't think I have to justify this with an explanation

4. capital Letters in the middle of the Sentence. Apparently, to distinguish nouns from adjectives. Yeah, because we really need to know.

5. numbers - here's where I somehow become a complete dyslexic and can't connect my sight to my brain. So when you want to say - 75, for example, you say "five and seventy". I thought french was hard with the 70-79 being 60 + 10-19, and 80 being 20x4 and 90-99 being 20x4 + 10-19. No, french has nothing on turning your brain completely inside out. You can't write a number while it is being recited because you have to leave a space between to fill it in. If you don't get this, try saying my phone number the way the french say it: 77-97-84-44 but in german: "7 and 70- 7 and 90- 4 and 80- 4 and forty...and then try to write that logically and neatly. Can't do it.

6. The making up of words by putting several together to make up the new word. Here's are some examples. I will put a line between the words put together:

- wollteppich - woll|teppich (woll = wool, teppich = carpet)
- herrenbekleidung - herren|bekleidung (herren = men, bekleidung = clothing)
- sportsbekleidung - sports|bekleidung (sports clothing)
- kaufhausplan - kauf|haus|plan (kauf = sell, haus = house, plan = map : store map)
- neunzhenhundertneunundneunzig - neunzhen|hundert|neun|und|neunzig = 1999

I will add to this but suffice it to say that instead of just making two words, they make a really long word that makes people who are learning freak out at its length. What I kind of like about it though, is that when I don't know the word, I make one up and sometimes, they understand!!!!

7. Nominativ vs Akkasativ vs. Dativ artikels - ah, this has continuously stumped my class. You have this in every language, but in german, the artikel changes IF it's a masculine word. And if it's a neutral word, you add an -s if you aren't using the word in the sentence. I won't try to give you examples or explain it, or else I will screw myself up and not be able to understand it myself. I am currently the only one in the class who gets when to use nominative articles, versus accausative, versus dative.

This is all I will post for now. Month 2, which I am still contemplating on whether or not I should do, will surely bring more of these posts!

My class, now 12, is still as varied as ever. The gay boys have decided to keep the nuns on their toes by writing and acting out dialogue that we have to make up. While everyone else's is a boring "I would like to find a computer to buy" dialogue, theirs was "I would like to buy sexy lingerie for my strip tease show" and "I am looking for cocaine and crystal meth" dialogues. Despite this, they actually made a significant effort to befriend the nuns, but the nuns wanted nothing to do with the tattoo-ridden colourful sassy men, so don't blame them. They are keeping the class entertained and not boring at all.

apparently i'm more than just round...

...I'm also a healer!?!

Yesterday the thai girl in my class, who has brought me cherries to take home and always has food and water for me (she's like my backpack of supplies), asked me a question. She asked if I have ever had a child or if this was my first. I said yes, and then she requested something I've never been asked for. She asked me to hold her wrist because she fell last weekend and hurt it badly. She said that it would heal faster if I touched it because I'm pregnant with my first child and it would be the only time I had this power.

wow.

Of course I did it...felt like a total knob doing it though (everyone in the class was staring at us, wondering if I would do it).

When I told Axel, I got the best reaction - he was really mad that he didn't know about this before because we could've milked this new power for the last few months! Anyway, I have 3 months left, so if anyone needs a little healin', you know who to call.

full circle - back in strasbourg

i am killing time at the internet cafe that i spent way too much time in last september while we waited to get hooked up at home. times have changed - it has moved into the new mall which means a whole new clientele. In other words, there are no dirty old men checking out dirty old porn, nor are there huge groups of teens playing online games (probably because the nez mall is far away from their school). but the french keyboard is still my enemy, as are the hardest chairs in the world.

I am in town for less than 8 hours to go to my doctor's appointment. It was pouring rain when i had to walk fifteen minutes there and fifteen minutes back, and as soon as i got on the tram, the sun came out. It is as if koeln (i am not even going to attept to find the umlaut) weather is following me.

Now that I have been here, had lunch with Caroline, and sat around a cafe, i can safely say that I miss Strasbourg. The feel of the city alongside the smells of the bakeries can't be beat. Nor can the friendliness of the french compared to the germans. I really didn't give the french much credit, but it is nice to walk into a store and be greeted by every sales person warmly! I was in Paris yesterday and realiwed that part of this french love is that i miss communicating properly. The grunts and pseudo german i have been speaking really doesn't warm the locals, so I know that this less friendly attitude is really my fault!

However, the challenge of not stepping in dog crap really does kill the mood.

Two nuns walk into a room...

...just got two new students in the class. I snuck in a photo with my phone (I think god will officially strike me down if I wasn't on the list before).





My two gayboys then got jealous and made me take a picture of them. I love german class!

Growth spurts sind nicht Spaß!

So I have noticed that when women are pregnant, belly growth is not gradual but rather comes in spurts. Last Saturday, Axel and I went out with our friend Daria (another ISU student who is in Luxembourg for her internship) for the day. We walked around the city and ended up at the chocolate museum. The day started off fine but as it progressed, so did my aches and waddle. It had gotten to the point where Axel looked at the belly and was shocked to see that he noticed a difference from the morning. I normally walk without a waddle, but for some reason, that day, there was no stopping the new swaying of the hips. I noticed the belly too, not only because of the largeness but also because it was starting to hurt to carry around. My back was dealing with it poorly so I sat when I could.

The next day I could barely stand up. And the belly was still huge. So Sunday was a write-off for everything but laying around.

However, on Monday morning, I was fine again. And the belly was bigger but not as big as Sunday. And my back wasn't sore, nor was my belly. I spoke to my friend Tara who knows two other women who are pregnant (due the same time as me coincidentally) and she was amused to hear me say this because she heard the same thing from her friends just recently. So I think what is happening to the body is that it tries to keep things the same (in science terms, it tries to maintain homeostasis) and does it until it reaches a critical point where it can't anymore, and then bam, growth spurt. This is the 3rd time I've experienced this and every time I am wiped out physically and spend 2-3 days just exhausted and sore. It's amazing what our bodies are able to deal with.

Little Pickles has definitely had a growth spurt. Axel felt it kick for the first time on May 25th, which freaked him out a bit, and now I can see my belly move whenever it kicks. I am really conscious of where he/she is chillin' out too and I can tell when it is ready to move. The latest trick Pickles has is to kick hard in the middle of the night to wake me up and force me to pee. So he/she is definitely learning how to get my attention.

I've been experimenting with music and sounds to see what Pickles responds to. We initially narrowed it down to music with a deep bass (with its first favourite being from the Bach Cello Suites (No. 4 in E flat major, BWV 1010: Prelude) but now I think Pickles is really into all things string as long as there is bass in the song. It doesn't respond to any of the pop divas (Cher, Madonna, Britney) or the sounds of ukelele (sorry Jack Johnson) but it loves jazz, classical and heavy metal (sorry neighbours). And cuban music...not brazilian or spanish...it is definitely cuban. Oh, and it likes one Shakira song (Anne, this might be your belly dancing gene coming out). How I have been running this experiment is that when Pickles responds to a song, I put it in a list of songs it kicks to. Then I mix it in with songs it doesn't kick to. And then I see when it kicks. Pickles is very consistent as to what it likes and doesn't. Or what it likes to kick to and what it doesn't! Still trying to decide if it likes to kick when it likes or dislikes something!!

Another reason for Pickles kicking is when I'm hungry and when I'm eating. As soon as I get hungry, it kicks. And when I'm eating, it kicks. But as soon as I'm done, the kicking's over.

So my next set of experiments are to see if I play music it kicks to just after I eat to see what takes kicking precedence - music or food!