Karl Mag's (Or, Welcome to Chemnitz)

I live in the ghetto of Chemnitz.

And no, I'm not joking.

The area I live in - the Sonnenberg (literally "Sun Mountain") - is the sketchy and, as one German I know put it, "dangerous" part of town.

Of course, when Germans say that an area is "dangerous" to live in, they forget they're talking to someone who was born and raised on Chicago news and who has a totally different view of what a "dangerous neighborhood" means.

Dangerous to me means people are getting shot and murdered on their front porch or sidewalk.

Dangerous to Germans means vacant houses and stores filled with foreigners and poor people.

Luckily for the Germans, I am both a foreigner and poor, so I totally qualify to live in the German ghetto!

I told you I lived in the shady part of town.

But seriously, this is my building. 

Anyway, from the outside, it looks like I live in a condemned building, complete with boarded up windows, urban decay, and graffiti.

On the inside, however, my apartment is pretty nice complete with newly refurbished floors, windows, and appliances.  In fact, it's really nice.  Except for the whole no blinds thing.  (Sorry neighbors.)

I actually really like living on the Sonnenberg. Sure, it's a little creepy and vacant at night, but it's actually trying to shape up and become the "hipster" neighborhood.  (Case in point, we have a vegan cafe around the corner from me.  This baffles me, since typical German cuisine thrives on deep-fried meats and dairy.)

Anyway, the Sonnenberg was the the only part of Chemnitz that escaped the British bombing of WWII (just a few days before its neighbor, Dresden, was reduced to rubble) and the buildings here, although desperately in need of some TLC, still have the old facades from Chemnitz's glory days.

Across the street from me.

Back in the day, Chemnitz was a huge center for textile production and its sister city was Manchester, England.  The town's population exploded, workers flooded in from the fields to work in the factories, and the mill owners got rich quick.

Mehr Porridge bitte?

Dickensian Orphans aside, Chemnitz was a cool place to be back in the day.  (Well, if you weren't a worker, inhaling cotton fluff into your lungs, but I digress.)

Then WWII happened. 

And then the Soviets happened.

Instead of rebuilding the destroyed city and factories, like they did in Dresden, the Soviets gleefully clapped their hands together, realizing that a city with a large working population would make the perfect model for their ideal Soviet city.

Everything in the downtown, save the city hall and the Jakobskirche, were rebuilt and refashioned into the Soviet ideal.  Long, wide avenues built parallel to each other, perfect for Party parades, and stiff cement buildings were put into place.  

Inspired architectural choices.

Because nothing says "Celebrate the Working Man"
quite like a monstrous blob sculpture.

Even the crosswalk signs went through a remodel.

Although the Ampelmann is now a popular store in Berlin,
this is actually the happy Soviet worker going to work
and the happy Soviet worker appropriately
stopping at the crosswalk.

Oh, and Chemnitz, got a new name: Karl-Marx-Stadt.

Despite the fact that Karl Marx never lived, let alone, visited Chemnitz.

And they got this guy too:

A wild Karl appears when you least expect him.

His gaze goes right into your soul.

Did I forget to mention that Karl - aka "Der Nischel" (which is Saxon slang for the "The Head" and further proof that the Saxon dialect is crazy since it sounds nothing like the real German word "Kopf") - is a huge statue?

It's freakishly huge.

I wonder who that is?
Oh, that's me.
And Karl.

Although the residents of Chemnitz had the chance after the Wall fell to remove the Nischel and all the other Soviet-inspired art around the city, they decided to keep their bearded buddy around as a testament to their history.

The city was "rebuilt" again in the 90s with the influx of West German investors and the downtown is a bizarre hodgepodge of rebuilt pre-WWII, Soviet, and West German styles.

The old city hall and one of the new shopping malls.

More of city hall

A view down the street to the Jakobkirche

One of the old facades
(It also gets bonus points for being pink.)

Pigeons. The rats of the air.
Also old architecture.

The city convention center with its Soviet-chic style

The "Roter Turm" (Red Tower) is the last remaining piece
of the medieval city wall.  Next to it is the new Roter Turm,
which boasts 3 floors of shopping bliss, plus a movie theater.

I have no idea what this means but hooray for
Soviet art!

One last look at the soul crushing Soviet bloc housing.

Unlike its well-known brothers and sisters, Leipzig and Dresden, Chemnitz has neither the Old World charm, nor the political/historical force to compel tourists to visit.

But on the other hand, Chemnitz is quirky, unique, and always interesting.

I mean, what other city would have a permanent art installation to the fact that its on the same longitude as a large colony of penguins on the South Pole?

Oh, Chemnitz.

All My Love,

Your Humble Blogger

& Simba (Who Has Been Very Absent in These Posts)

PS. Bonus points for you lucky people who realized that the title of this post is a German pun on the name Karl Marx.  The phrase "Karl Mag's" (Karl likes...) is used in lots of advertisements across Chemnitz, and I desperately want a mug with it on there.

PPS.  If you're really cool, which you are since you're reading this Blog, you should like the Blog on Facebook. 

These Kids...

So I lied about the forthcoming photos of Chemnitz thing, but at least I can say that I really like my school.

I'm on my second week of observation, so I've been popping in and out of various classrooms, interacting with kids from the 5th grade up the 12th grade, and trying desperately to remember all the names of the foreign language teachers and whether or not they told if I can use "Sie" or "du" with them.  (As if German wasn't hard enough...)

But that means in a week, I get to start teaching!  (A terrifying prospect, I know, but apparently someone thinks I'm qualified.)

Anyway, I just wanted to share some of the gems that the kids asked me when I did my 5-10 minute introduction in class.

The 10th graders were very interested in all things Chicago, but only 4 questions in, one of them (Max), went straight for the jugular and asked "What do Americans think of the gun lobby?"

I tried to answer it honestly without being biased.  I could tell they wanted to ask more about it, but luckily, another student asked about driving cars in America, and I was able to distract them with the fact that I could drive when I was 15, which made everyone freak out.

The 5th graders steered clear of politics (obviously), and instead asked me about my favorite things (which does include whiskers on kittens, but seriously, who likes copper kettles, you can burn your hands on them).

Some of the questions I had to answer:

What's your favorite food? What's your favorite fruit? What's your favorite color? What's your favorite movie? What's your favorite clothing store?  Do you like sports?  Do you like winter sports?  Do you like shopping? Do you like dancing? Do you own a house in Chemnitz?  What's your favorite tree? How old are you?

The best two questions, which were back-to-back, from the fifth graders were however:

5th grade girl: Do you have a boyfriend?
Me:  No.
(5th grade girl gives me a pitying look.)
5th grade boy: Do you have kids?!


On the other hand, other Fulbrighters have told me that they got even crazier questions:

Have you ever swam with a dolphin?

Do you have a kitchen at home?  (They were under the impression that Americans don't cook anymore, they just eat fast food.)

Do you have a lover? (From a 10 year old.)

And, last but not least, my favorite:

Is it "Yippe KI-Yay motherf*cker" or "Yippe HI-yay motherf*cker"?

Important life questions, people.



All My Love,
Your Humble Blogger
(Who Promises That Next Time She Posts There Will Be Pictures)

First Day of School

I start school today.

Teaching, that is.

Not freaking out at all.

As long as I don't mess up too badly, things should be okay, right?

  

  

  

Kind of Hating Germany (Right Now)

I meant for my next post to be a cheery, photo filled explosion of Chemnitz.

The Blog is supposed to be about my experience abroad, which sometimes includes bad experiences. And this weekend has been pretty terrible so far, so apologies for the honesty hour, but let me vent for a bit.

My power blew out today while I was cooking dinner.

And I couldn't find my landlord.
And I couldn't call him because I don't have a phone.
And I can't get a phone because I don't have a bank account.
And I can't get a bank account because I haven't registered my address with the city.
And I haven't registered my address with the city because I need my landlord to sign a piece of paper.
And I can't find my landlord.

Sometimes, I hate Germany.  (Despite the bread, the chocolate, and the shopping.)

Rage, my dear followers, a slow, boiling rage.

On the other hand, with the help of my Dad and Kaylee, I was able to find the breaker, flip the right switches, and viola! Power was back.  And I learned something about fuse boxes today.

So hooray for successful adulthood!

Even without a landlord.

Now if only he could fix my leaking sink...

Orientation and the Worst Train Rides Ever

Okay so I lied.

No photos. Not of Chemnitz at least.

Instead I went to Fulbright ETA orientation!  Orientation itself was a great experience - I met amazingly talented and driven people and overall had a great time.  It was like college orientation all over again. Except everyone there liked German and teaching too, so new topics of conversation had to be found. (Also apparently I have a very strong Chicago accent that I never realized I didn't have! Who knew?!)

We were just outside of Köln (that's Cologne to you non-German sprächige Leute out there) at a lovely resort.

A not too shabby view for breakfast!

A quick snapshot of the gorgeous
(and continually under repair) Kölner Dom.

We got broken up into groups based on our "state" for the group activities, while all 140 ETAs came together for plenary sessions.  A lot of it was technical - like visa information and job rules/regulations - but we also learned some pedagogy too.  Each state group was further divided into teaching groups, and at the end of the orientation, the teaching groups presented a lesson to their state group.

Needless to say, the Sachsen group got into being the fake rowdy students for each of the teaching teams. We were especially boisterous while pretending to be the Level One (first through fifth grade) students.  We made basic grammar mistakes, asked random questions, and channeled our inner six year olds.

I had a great time teaching and I'm already feeling really optimistic about my school and teaching in general!

So, to recap:  Orientation was awesome.  The people at orientation were awesome.  This year will be awesome.

You know what's not awesome: the Deutsche Bahn.

According to Google Maps (the font of all mapping knowledge) and Deutsche Bahn's own website: it's a long way from Köln to Chemnitz.

A long, long way.  About 7 hours by train.  And the trains don't even go directly across the country, since the fastest trains are the ICE (InterCityExpress) trains, which means that they usually go through large cities, like Leipzig or Nuremberg.

I was all set to get to Köln.  I had decided to go a day early, see the sights, and crash in a hostel before meeting the bus to the convention center in the middle of nowhere.  My Kindle and my iPod were charged and ready.  Enormous bottle of mineral water and snacks were bought.

The trouble started when I tried to buy my ticket to Cologne.  I wanted to buy a Bahn 50 card since that would give me half off the exorbitant ticket price.  I paid for the card with no problems, but when I went to buy the ticket, my Bahn card wouldn't work right and for some reason, I couldn't get the reduced rate.

Even though I was seething, I had to catch my train to Leipzig, so I sucked up the ticket price and got onto the train.

Everything was going well - other than the awkwardness of having to ask someone to move out of my reserved seat and the four train transfers - until about halfway through the trip when the ICE reached Madeburg.

The conductor came over the intercom and announced that since the train was needed in Berlin they were going to ask all the people headed to Cologne to get off the train at Madeburg, so they could send the train back.  

They promised that there would be two train options: one that would be leaving in 20 minutes from the Madeburg station and other that would be there in an hour to take the passengers to Cologne.

Although everyone on the train was angry, at least there was an option in the works to reach Cologne in time.  But then we learned that the faster train was also broken and we were going to have to wait for the other one.

 We were all dumped off on the curb at the Madeburg station as we waited for the train. Which was running late.  And then we had to change tracks twice before our train pulled up.

It was a tiny Interregional Express (read: slow train) with only 4 cars.  The Germans, being pushy as always, barged their way onto the train.  I was forced to climb into the last car along with a business woman from Berlin, this young guy, and six bicyclists all of whom were pissed that so many people were getting on the train.

There was only standing room throughout most of the train and I used my suitcase as a makeshift seat while I hung out in the bicycle storage area of the train.  I quickly learned as the Berlin businesswoman struggled to understand what the bicyclists were saying that they were from Swabia near Tübingen! Needless to say, I was thrilled to hear the nearly indistinguishable Schwäbisch!  It almost made the whole I'm-sitting-on-my-suitcase-when-I-paid-an-extra-5-Euros-for-a-reserved-seat-thing bearable.

And then one of the adorable old Schwabian men started talking to me because I was helping the Berliner understand his Schwäbisch and he told my German was excellent!

Happy Seal of Approval Indeed!

So even though my trip ended up taking an extra two hours, I got to Cologne safe and sound.  At the hostel, I found a wild pack of Fulbright Americans and I had a great time getting to know a bunch of them. 

Needless to say, I assumed my troubles with Deutsche Bahn were over.  During orientation, I forgot about the annoyance of 5 train transfers and 2 delays.

Then came the trip back.  (At least this time, the other Fulbrighter in my city, Alex, was with me!)

Instead of going north, this train was going south through Nuremberg and after an hour layover, going back up to Chemnitz.  Which was fine, since Alex was planning on meeting up with people she had studied abroad with in Nuremberg and I was thinking more along the lines of lunch and soaking up the free wifi at the nearest Starbucks.

We climbed aboard the train with all of our baggage and were headed off to Nuremberg. And then our train decided to act up.  And by act up, I mean, the cars came uncoupled.

Obviously we had to stop.

For over an hour.

And we missed our connected train.

And then we had to wait another hour and a half for our next train.

Which took 4 hours to get to Chemnitz.

Plus, the uphill walk home pushed me
into a state of wordless rage.

But, on the bright side, I finished reading The Sun Also Rises on the train!

I have no idea what it all means and it made me vaguely depressed.  Also I openly recant part of my Hemingway hater-ade (except for the annoying fanboy thing; I totally standby it).

So that was my weekend.  And I start work on Monday! Eeeeeek!

All My Love,
Your Humble Blogger