Das grosse Kuerbis Abenteuer (the Great Squash Adventure)

As it's starting to get colder here in good old Nordrhein-Westfalen, I've found myself hankering after some squash. Butternut, to be specific. Mashed, prepared by Tyler kitchen staff. They always had extraordinary butternut squash. Mmmm...nutmeg, cinnamon, a little sugar. Delicious. So I asked the host fam if they knew anything about the availability of Butternuss-Kuerbis in Deutschland. They did not know what I was talking about.

I turned to my trusty Google, which gave me German butternut squash recipes. Still, I had not seen it in any stores. I started looking in earnest. Everytime I saw a grocery store, I went in and looked for squash and moist brown sugar, which apparently doesn't exist in Germany. No dice. I went to some Asian food stores, hoping they'd have my exotic Kuerbis. They didn't. Also, no White Rabbit candy. An Asian food store without White Rabbit candy. I even worked up the courage to ask (Entschuldigung. Haben Sie White Rabbit candy? Weisse Bonbons mit einem Hase?). Claudia joined me on my quest, checking out the big grocery store and emailing a local organic farmer. And at last, good news! The organic farmer grows Butternuss-Kuerbis every year. Super! Claudia reserved a Kuerbis and I was assigned the task of picking it up at the local farmer's market in the big city of Geilenkirchen.

The directions were simple. From the train station, turn right, then possibly left at some point. Okay, so maybe not simple. I thought I saw the farmer's market, but then it was someone's driveway. Ooops.

Nicht eigentlich ein Gemuesemarkt.

I finally found the farmer's market, which was bustling with old German ladies buying flowers. Cute.

Really a farmer's market

I found the right stand and purchased the reserved squash plus an additional. I was too timid to buy all of the squash, although I considered it. I have never picked up a reserved squash before, and I'm not sure that they had reserved a squash for someone before, from the funny look that gave me.

Hilde's Gruenzeug (aka best Gemuese stand EVER!)

Medicat guards the Kuerbis. Don't mess with Medicat.

Now the question is, was soll ich mit diesem Kuerbis kochen? (What should I cook with this squash?) Es gibt viele Moeglichkeiten. Was denkt ihr? (There are many possibilities. What do you guys think?) Please please comment on my blog. Bitte bitte bitte.

The Legend of the German Pickle Ornament

This weekend I learned something that made me really sad. I was talking to Claudia about German holiday games and asked about the tradition of hiding the pickle ornament and people having to find it. She looked at me like I was crazy. Not sure if it was just a problem with my German skills, I described the ornament in English. Still no idea. We asked Roger. He'd also never heard of this tradition. In my mind, this was one of the most important parts of a German Christmas. We decided to ask some of their German friends, and if they didn't know, we could safely conclude that it was not German.

I googled "German pickle ornament" and found the following page: German Myth 11. How can this be a myth? I don't understand. Why does everyone in America believe that this is a German tradition? I HAVE a pickle ornament. Why do they sell German pickle ornaments that have nothing to do with Germany? I am still really upset about it. Claudia made the observation that I was like a child who found out for the first time the Santa Claus wasn't real. And it's true. I don't remember ever believing in Santa Claus, so I can't remember the feeling, but I'm sure it's pretty similar.

Mietvertrag gekuendigt...check!

Some of you may be in suspense as to whether or not I got my apartment keys. I did. My room, however, is less than stunning. I have a feeling that this dorm may be some sort of ripoff for international students. It's far away from campus, but if you're im Ausland you wouldn't know that it's very possible to get closer apartments more cheaply. They even admit to charging international students more. So I got my keys and found my room and it is...a room. Bed, desk, closet, two burners, tiny fridge, tiny bathroom and a door. No oven. How can I bake without an oven? That's a silly question. I can't. How will I make apple crisp? I won't. I decided this situation was unacceptable. Also, the place was dirty. There were spices strewn about the cabinet and an old pair of work boots under the sink. In addition to these grievances, it seems like a really lonely place to live. Since everyone has their own "kitchen," there's no real need to go outside. There's no common room to hang out in. I got a really sad picture of me, coming home everyday to my room, heating up a can of soup, playing on the internet and then crying myself to sleep. And that is even more unacceptable than my inability to make apple crisp.

So I decided to ausziehen (move out) before I even einziehen-ed (moved in). However, I signed a lease that was good through the end of July. Would it be an insurrmountable mountain of German bureaucracy to get out of lease? It seemed that that would be the case. With great fear and trepidation, I went to the Wohmraumvermeitung office to ask. Surpisingly, it was not at all difficult. I wrote my name, room number, checked some boxes, signed it and now all I need to do is make an appointment with the Hausmeister to move out. Unfortunately, I had to give 2 months notice, so I will sort of move in until the end of December. I'm now on the hunt for a sweet WG (Wohngemeinschaft) in the city. We'll see how that goes, given my previous apartment hunting experiences.

Im Labor

So things are a little different here in German labs. First of all, everyone is confused by me. I'm not a PhD student or a postdoc. It's inconceivable to Germans that someone would take a year to do research without getting a degree just because it looks great on your CV and hey, you're getting paid to live in Europe for a year. Does not compute. Was bin ich? Ich bin nichts. Misch-masch aus Bachelor und Doktorand.

Also, they don't really have space for me. I spent the first two weeks in the lab of mein Betreuer Marcus (supervisor/trainer) and now am working in the lab of a grad student who went back to India for a month. So basically, I got used to one lab, moved to another (which is not organized in anything resembling a logical manner), and will be moving somewhere else in a month. Great. Story of my life.

Fortunately, the differences between the German and American educational systems have so far worked in my favor. German bachelor's degrees are somewhere in between our associate's and bachelor's, so Marcus was amazed that I knew how to run a column. I love low expectations.

There are nicht nur differences in how degrees are granted, sondern auch in how people work in the lab. It seems to me like it's a lot hard to get things done here. Here's a list of the rules:

• Solvents can only be picked up between 11 and 11:30. They come out of gas station like pumps. All solvents must be distilled before use. There are no solvent columns, no sure seal bottles, no analytical grade solvents for running columns.
• The chemical store room is only open from 10-11 and 2-3. That is it.
• Waste must be brought down on Tuesdays between 10 and 11 (I think. Uhoh, better clarify that one.)
• NMR: We don't take our own. And sometimes it seems like they only have one spectrometer. The turn around can be a little slow.
• The Arbeitsbescheinigung (those Germans and their Bescheinigungen): everyone was a little letter in their lab saying that they are authorized by our adviser to work in lab. If a security person comes, they will ask to see it and a photo ID). I don't have one of these Bescheinigungs yet. Uhoh.
  

Here are the not rules (Was sind Sicherheitsregeln? Ich weiss nicht. (What are safety regulations? I don't know)):

• Eating and drinking in lab are okay.
• Not wearing Schutzbrillen (safety glasses) also okay.
• Putting something in the base bath without goggles or gloves is also somehow okay.
• The waste containers are not labeled until they are taken down on Tuesday. Then, it seems like the label is kind of made up. All waste goes into the same container.

Erex misses Smith and AstraZeneca real bad. Erex also misses being Erex and would like to request that all subsequent personal correspondence be addressed to Erex rather than this Erin character. A quick note about my name and Germans. I was really afraid that no one would be able to pronounce my name and I would be Air-reeeen/have to adopt a new German identity (eine neue deutsche Identitaet) after my experiences in Marburg (namely Ellen our teacher and the gay, drunk, possibly-extraterrestrial Chinese guy who made me dance with him the student bar). However, everyone I've met can totally say my name (which is more than I can say for my ability to say their names. Sorry, Germans!) And apparently, the movie Erin Brockovich was popular in Germany.
German: Erin, wie Erin Brockovich? Me: Genau!!! (Exactly!)

Und schon wieder deutsch geslappt!

Hallo, blog fans! Sorry that I've been slacking off lately. My schedule of research, having my German corrected by Roger, riding horses and playing with the cat has gotten in the way. I will try to improve my blog ethic, but for now, here is a sad story of my German skills failing me and the inflexibility of German bureaucrats.

I needed to pick up the keys from my Hausmeister, so I called this morning and said "Hallo ich moechte mein Schluessel abholen. Muss ich ein Termin machen?" And he said, "adhf;kadhfg;kadjfhgkajh." It sounded like Russian or possibly Czech. And I said "Was?" to which he responded with "asdjhfkladshflkafgh" and then hung up.

So I went to the Wohnheim to try to find him and my keys (after getting lost at a Bushof and not having had Fruehstueck/Kaffee (grumpy Erin)), but he wasn't in his office. So I called again. This time I think I understood "Ich weiss nicht, wo der Hausmeister ist. Keine Ahnung." Nicht, Hausmeister and Keine Ahnung were definitely in the sentence. And then he immediately hung up on me. So I waited outside the office for about 1 hour, but he never came. One might think I had the wrong number, but I'm pretty sure this is not the case, as I called the number hanging outside of the Hausmeister's office, and checked it about three times. Also, Germans answer the phone by saying their name, and he said "Otten", which is the name of the Hausmeister.

Usually I don't have too many problems communicating in German. Bank transactions, purchasing train tickets, registering at the college. Alles war kein Problem. So I felt a little sad and helpless in this situation. How am I supposed to get my keys for the apartment for which I've already paid rent? I don't know. I am going to have a native German speaker call for me tomorrow, and hopefully that will pan out.

Feeling a little annoyed, I decided to get my Bescheinigung for health insurance, so it wouldn't be a totally wasted day bureaucratically. On the way was a Starbucks, which I could not pass up in my sad state. I decided the perfect comfort food would be a caramel macchiato, and paid 4.20 Euro for a grande. If a Euro equals a dollar, that's already more expensive than Starbucks prices in the States. While waiting for my drink, I did the conversion in my head and realized that I'd just paid about $6.25 for a coffee. Pretty appalling! And it was not as good as the ones they make in Amerika. But the Starbucks ambiance was pretty much the same. I will have to stick to a plain old coffee in the future.

I proceeded to get my Bescheinigung (all students in Germany are required to have health insurance, and since Fulbright paid for classy private insurance for us, I needed to take my private insurance letter to this office to get a certificate that said I didn't need to have public health insurance so that I can officially be registered. Showing the letter from the private insurance company to the office at the university was not good enough.) No problems, transaction conducted entirely in German. That helped my German self-esteem a little bit. I then tried to take my Bescheinigung to the office so that they could finish my registration. I arrived at 12:35, five minutes after the end of their Sprechstunden (office hours). This meant that they were still in the office, working, but were unwilling to accept my Bescheinigung. I went to the Info-Service-Center (main office for internationals), where they called the people and asked if I could just leave my Bescheinung with them. But nein, das ist verboten! I must personally bring this paper to them and say "Hi, I'm Erin. Here is my Bescheinigung." I miss Smith College, where people were actually helpful and you could leave papers in a dropbox or send them through campus mail.

This is not to say all Germans are unfriendly. On the contrary, my hosts Claudia and Roger and all the people they've introduced me to, are pretty much great. And the people in lab are also nice, but lab requires a whole separate post.