A Panda-Bear Abroad

Guten Abend!

I thought it was about time I wrote a little something on here, and now that I’ve got that bloody buggering essay out the way I am a FREE FRAU!

Things is going great down the Vaterland, I’ve had lots of people tell me how good my German is (although you actually need to get a German talking to you first. This alone is a mission in itself) and I’ve just come from another lovely couple of hours with my Spanish tandem. She’s a total babe, and I think the good thing is that we knew each other before we decided to do a tandem, so we already got over the awkward small-talk in another language part. But yea, yesterday we chatted for two hours solid. She wants to do an hour or so every day apparently, so I’ll be fluent by July (which obvs didn’t happen in Spain!) PLUS I’ve got a load of pals from Catalonia who keep asking me little things in Catalan. It’s r8 good.

We’ve been having some beautiful weather down Toobs just lately, it’s been baking, and I’ve well and truly had to crack my shorts out ;) And all this heat and too much eating has led me to start going SWIMMING a few times a week. That’s great, and swimming’s deffoes my favourite…but one never quite gets used to all the granny muff that’s lurking down the Schwimmbad. Another point about those stiff-upper-lipped Germans - they LOVE to get naked, and don’t seem to have an ounce of shame :/

So, where I left off involved a little tease about a revolving dancefloor. WELL. Tübingen’s number one, most hip hop and happenin’ nightspot (aka Top 10) has a revolving dancefloor. This really is nothing to get excited about as it goes at a rate of about 0.00000000001 miles an hour and sometimes you don’t really notice it turning. It’s not a great place to be entirely honest, but in a weeny town like this where else are you gona go? I’m going to have to think of somewhere else to go, cause last week I CHUNDERED EVERYWHERE (just kept it confined to the toilet actually) and it’s going to take a while before I have the cojones to go back there…

The other week was Feiertag on a Tuesday so we took the opportunity to go to Frühlingsfest in Stuttgart. It’s a bit like Oktoberfest really - a LOT of Lederhosen about - so just lots and lots of beer, LITRES of the stuff in fact, and lots of rides so you can go whizzy whizzy barf. So these litres of beer - they take two hands to lift to your gob, and it never fails to amaze how the waiters there could carry like six full ones in one hand. They must be serious gun shows. There was lots of quality live music, and every couple of songs or so they would sing a song where you have to toast each other and then drink, so the plan is basically just to get everybody trollied. It was a pretty funny day, which culminated in us dancing on the tables to the likes of Lady Gaga and that bloody annoying Danza Kaduro song that will forever remind me of Salawanker.

So. Was noch? I went to an international dinner where my friend made pizza and tiramisu - everyone brought a dish from their home country. I made a bacon and potato gratin, which went down A STORM…even though I’m not French ;) There was a Czech girl there who made some potatoey-noodley things and some chicken and bacon combination ;) But obviously the tiramisu was the winner really. Then Saturday was the fourth ‘Tübinger Kulturnacht’ which basically translates as an evening of ‘culture.’ There was street art and poetry slams, and a really cute event where an opera singer and pianist floated down the river in a Stocherkahn and we walked along the Neckarinsel alongside them, and she sang songs about the summer and dream time. Then in what must be Tübingen’s tiniest pub there was a little acoustic singer, who was great and we all helped him out by playing the shaky egg, and then we just saw a few more bands in different places around the town.

Tomorrow’s another Feiertag, so another lovely day off ;) All being well we hope to take a trip down the river, either in a Stocherkahn or just a pedalo, and by bad weather we are going to find the giant vagina. No jokes. Point about the Germans being mental number 3 has just been proven: outside one of the medicine faculties (alas, not the gynecology institute!) some joker artist make a sculpture of a massive vagina. It’s the stuff of nightmares, and we’re going to find it tomorrow. (I was going to say “we’re going to sniff it out tomorrow” but then I realised that would be an absolute HOWLER.” Then Friday another dinner is on the cards. This time I’m a-make Cottage Pie - something that actually IS British - and my Italian Stallion(ess) pal AND my Spanish pal are going to be there. They’re both babes. I can’t wait.

The end is in sight!

Just as soon as I finish this sodding Year Abroad Essay, which WILL be today - IT WILL! - then I will finally update about what’s been going down just lately.

As a teaser, it involved revolving dancefloors, and beers so heavy you need two hands to lift them.

Tschüß!

That time of the week again

Where I write stuff about what’s been going on down the Vaterland.

I personally would like to start with that I think is the biggest piece of news EVER: I finally met my flatmates. Not in a particularly amicable situation mind - I went into the kitchen one day and there was a note suggesting we all meet up to discuss some “organisational matters” and could we please “all sign below, or suggest another time if tomorrow at 12 noon is not convenient.” They seemed ok enough, one’s doing a geography masters and another is doing Japanese studies, and another one who wasn’t there is growing some chili plants in the kitchen. That aside, they’re still a super antisocial bunch, and this afternoon I felt resentment swell inside of me when I was cleaning the bathroom that I share with this lad Sven, and Sven walks past and doesn’t even acknowledge that I’m cleaning the bathroom that he’s got piss-stains all over. Grrrrrrr.

Aside from that, it’s been a highly amusing week.

We kick off with last Tuesday where my classes actually began - with translation. This was perhaps the biggest “it’s a small world, isn’t it?” moment ever, because my lecturer comes from Bridgwater and went to Richard Huish. I thought it would give me a chance to practice some Deutsch, but it turns out the whole class is taught in English, and the only translation is German-English. Simples. Being the only English kid there, they’re either going to hate me, or want to be my bezzies ;)

Then Wednesday night we had a swabian dinner. The food, lentils, spaetzle and little rubbery frankfurter sausages was hardly cuisine, but the night was made hilarious by the fact that we all just got well and truly battered…some bright spark thought it would be funny to go to the pub for two hours, because we were two hours early for the dinner. The night culminated in us playing a German version of 21s and me telling some poor lad how “I f****** love writing! Writing’s my favourite!” Massively hungover the next day, and the only way to chase those sickly feelings away was by going for all-you-can-eat Schnitzel. Turns out all-you-can-eat is actually only two.

We also went to a Couch Surfing party on Friday night, and after deciding we’d probably just have one drink and then leave, we stayed on and on and on and then really had to leave otherwise we’d miss the last bus home. Cue another big ol’ hangover and an attempt at all-you-can-eat ribs…but it was closed :(

(We did however succeed in all-you-can-eat pancakes yesterday. I ate eight, and was ok with this, having vowed never to eat ten again after that infamous pancake eat-off with James in freshers - my friend Tizzy however, did scoff ten and then declared she could have eaten more, but wanted to better herself next time, and also apparently the waiters were laughing at her.)

Class-wise, they kicked off properly this week, and I’ve already done two hours of Catalan - “em dic Beccy, tenc vint-i-u anys” - answers on a postcard if you know what that means. Really interesting, but obviously I wanted to pronounce everything like Spanish. I had my first Spanish class today an all I’m in the grupo superior which is B2-C1 level which I’m quite chuffed about, although I bet it’s only a matter of time before my brain goes on language-strike and I can speak in neither German nor Spanish.

 And now, awaiting me this evening is a night out at Tübingen’s number one nightspot: Top Ten. Complete with revolving dancefloor, so one has heard. I’ve got a mountain of work I need to get through, but I’ve seen my modules for next year, and realise I’m going to have to kiss goodbye to anything resembling a life from September onwards, so figure my work here can wait for now.

It’s time for those untranslatable words again

yveinthesky:

The Local, an English-language online news portal localised for Germany just released its very own least of those queer untranslatable German words that students of the language encounter sooner or later.

Here are some of my favourites they listed which I haven’t posted yet on my “untranslatable” tag:

Handschuhschneeballwerfer (HOW COULD I FORGET THIS!)

Everyone hates the coward willing to criticize and abuse from a safe distance. The Germans equate that person with the lowest of the low: the one who wears gloves when throwing snowballs. As far as they’re concerned, a snowball fight is not a snowball fight until someone gets frostbite!

Treppenwitz

Another wonderful German word, for a bittersweet situation familiar to everyone on the planet. The Treppenwitz, literally “stair-joke,” is the brilliant comeback you think of when you’re already out of the door and halfway down the stairs. “And you, sir, are a prick! Ach! If only I’d thought of that at the time!”

Rabenmutter

In keeping with their 19th century image of family roles, Germans have a special word for a bad mum. It literally means “raven mother.” Apparently baby ravens in the wild eat nothing but ketchup and are allowed to play with scissors. “Look, that child has not got a hat on and it’s below 20 degrees Celsius. What a Rabenmutter.”

Kummerspeck

The English have “comfort food,” but the ever-thorough Germans have taken that concept to its obvious biological conclusion. Kummerspeck, literally “sorrow bacon,” is the extra bulges that develop once you’ve consumed too much comfort. “Is that Kummerspeck, or are you just pleased to see me?”

Verabredet

Germans don’t just agree to meet up at two, and then rely on their mobile phones to explain why they’re late. They make utterly clear, unambiguous appointments. And then they describe themselves as “verabredet.” “You are late. We were verabredet. I am simply not understanding this.” It’s an adjective that defines a whole culture.

Fahne

This does not just mean flag. It’s also the special type of flag that flutters in your face and stings your eyes when a drunkard tells you he always loved her, you know, honestly, really loved her, despite how it looks. “Please wave that Fahne somewhere else.”

Fully Vorbereitet For My Time in Tubingen

So. Another week ist schon vorbei - and I’m having a fab time here.

I decided this week to take part in a Beratungskurs for us foreigners - so basically a course where they help us with getting to know the town and the uni, ploughing through all the bureaucracy, and just generally having a laugh and meeting a few people. I was a bit dubious at first, especially when they put on coffee and cake and you’re expected to just go and get talking to people - I hate that - but in the end I got chatting to a few lovely people, one of whom is called Marta and we’re going to start a Spanish tandem. And the best thing of all? They just plied us all with lots of champagne!

So our group went out on Wednesday night and just had a few drinks and got to know each other and we ended up in this dodgy little underground bar - which turns out used to form part of the Gastapo’s secret tunnels, of which there are loooooaads all running underneath Tübingen. Next night we had our first proper student night out in a club called the Blauer Turm - it was ok, but soooooo hot and soooooo many people, and really old-school music taste.

Friday was a much-needed night off, and I started thinking about making up my timetable and which classes I’m going to take. Touch wood, it’s not proving to the the absolute nightmare that was timetabling in Spain…yet. Just for a laugh I’m going to start Catalan classes, just to get another semi-language under my belt and get a cheeky two credits in the bag. That starts tomorrow, and I’m really keen to see what it’s like. I’m taking a German writing workshop, where they teach you how to write according to different styles and genres. I’ve never even done anything like that in English before, let alone learn how to do it in German - so that’ll be really cool. Other courses I’m considering are translation, German grammar (boring, but probably my favourite thing ever) and a conversation class where they teach you to actually speak like a normal person, instead of just, “Yes, I like the library very much, thank you.”

Then last night was the last day of the course, where we had a guided tour around Tübingen which was r8 interesting. In the evening we went to a little bar called the Schloßcafe - because it forms part of the city’s castle - and had an end of course dinner, followed by a HILAROUS gypsy/Balkan band that had us dancing the night away, and getting incredibly sweaty.

Today’s been pretty quiet, and, prison diary-style: “It’s Day 12, and still no sighting of the flatmates. Masculine products have appeared in my bathroom, but the owner it yet to introduce himself.” I could just walk in on him in the bathroom - that would be an amusing introduction. SO I’ve had to make myself lots of new pals elsewhere, so tonight I’m teaming up with my lovely new Italian Stallion friend Nicoletta (who has the most incredible hair I’ve ever seen) and we’re going to the weekly screening of a Midsomer Murders-style thriller called Tatort (Crime Scene.) I found out last night that Nicoletta also stayed with Käthe through Couch Surfing when she first got here too - such a small world! Anyway so Tatort should put my German, attention, AND crime-solving skills to the test, and will probably be a very nice end to what has been a very nice week.

PS: “Hier kotzte Goethe” means “Goethe was sick here.”

So there we have it; big old philosophical great, vomming out the windows all over Tübingen. They covered that sign up on Good Friday - he’s a disgrace!

ANYWAY, so my punbelievable linguistic abilities are letting me down and I’m yet to think up a really witty (immature) name for Tübingen. It’s probably going to be hard to top Salawanker, but your suggestions are welcome!