Adventures with Kohlrabi: The First Weeks Back

Hello my dearest followers,

Sorry this last post has been so delayed! I hope all of you, especially those in the grip of the notorious "polar vortex", are enjoying your snow days and staying comfy and warm at home.

It's quite cold here in Chemnitz and we got our first snow (that stuck around and then turned into sheets of ice) this Monday.  But more on that later...

Coming back to Germany after spending nearly 3 weeks in America was a rougher transition than I had expected.

First of all, each time I take a transatlantic flight they seem to get longer and more terrible. The flight back to Berlin was pretty terrifying, we had a lot of turbulence going over Iceland and I was having Tower of Terror flashbacks while the dude next to me was peacefully snoring away, blissfully unaware of the possibility that this could have gone all "Lost" at any moment (or at least it seemed that way).

Luckily, for the long flight I had a trusty companion (other than Simba, of course): my friend Calie, who is currently working in Reutlingen.  Through a stroke of luck, we had seats near to each other and I could happily spend the flight kicking Calie's seat.  (I jest.)

Then of course, the jet lag.  The first day back was manageable, considering that I had to spend my time getting from Berlin to Chemnitz (although I did break up the trip to visit Claire in Leipzig).

The whole time on the train was a test of wills: Don't fall asleep. Don't fall asleep.

DON'T. FALL. ASLEEP.

When I finally got back to Chemnitz, I happily collapsed onto my bed and basically spent the whole first weekend back sleeping.

It was glorious.

Although during the flight back, I was filled with a tinge of reluctance about going back to Chemnitz and school, once I arrived on Monday, I was so happily greeted by my students and my coworkers, I felt immediately back home.

Within the first week, I was happily back in classroom and helping to lead lessons.

But sometimes, I do have suppress my laughter in class.

Last week, one of my eighth graders asked me for the opposite of word "expensive" and I told him.

And I watched as he wrote down "sheep".

(I did correct him, after feigning a coughing fit to cover up the urge to laugh.)

Please give me the Teacher of the Year award.

Oh look, you find them online and you can fill them
out yourself!

Printing one out and hanging it up right now.

Now, as for the title of this post.

One my fellow teachers has taken me under her wing, which is really sweet of her, and one day we were discussing cooking and winter meals.  She was giving me advice for making homemade soup bases and one of her directions included Kohlrabi.

Huh?

My confusion was evident.  We searched in vain in multiple dictionaries only to discover that "Kohlrabi" is also kohlrabi in English.

Behold! Kohlrabi!

Then the next day, to my amazement, my coworker brought me an enormous kohlrabi as well as another kohlrabi head (not sure if that's the technical term, but oh well, using the German method of making up new words) which she had chopped up and placed into a snack box for me. (Which is SO German, by the way.)  She kept smiling encouragingly at me as I timidly tried the raw pieces of kohlrabi, which has a melon-y texture but a bland vegetable taste.

Kohlrabi is a weird vegetable and I still have no idea what I'm supposed to do with it.

Eat it raw? Sauté it? Roast it?

WHO KNOWS.

But hopefully I will figure out what to do with it before it rots in my fridge.

No promises, though.


Finally, I want to end with a little tale of woe that will hopefully amuse you, dear reader.

So it finally snowed here in Chemnitz and okay, we barely got 3 inches, but Germans clearly have different ways of dealing with snow and ice.

And by that, I mean, that instead of shovels, they opt for just walking over the snow until it compacts into sheets of ice; and instead of salt, they opt for throwing down tiny chunks of rocks, or even more ineffectively, sand.

Have you ever walked on cobblestones covered in ice with tiny rocks frozen into it, dear reader?

No, of course not, because Americans salt the earth because we want the ice to, you know, go away.

Another fact for you:  I live at awkward distance to my school.

It takes about 25 minutes to walk there. But if I want to take the bus, I would have to wake up earlier to get to school at the same time.

Which is a big no.

So I usually walk to school, which
is actually quite refreshing.

And the final pertinent fact for this story: As many of you are aware, I have a higher than average klutz ratio, which is normally endearing RomCom heroine, but less endearing and funny in real life.

Anyway, this little story takes place earlier this week when I was tragically running late to school.  I had gotten nicely dressed up and was wearing a new pair of (frankly) adorable pants.

You can see where this is going.

I was about halfway to school when I slipped and fell on a patch of rocky ice.  After realizing that not only had I ripped my new pants at the knee, but that I was also gushing blood everywhere.

I then had to make the choice between heading onward to school or turning back home. Judging by the general unfriendliness of our school secretary (who really has no right to be that grumpy ALL THE TIME. Seriously, how can someone be so grumpy all the time?!), I made the fateful decision to go home and open up my stash of BandAids.  (Which are not Disney Princess themed, which might be the greatest tragedy of the whole affair.)

But that also required calling the school and telling them about the whole thing.

Pride comes before the fall, but sometimes it seems the other way around happens too.

After sucking it up, I set out again to get to school for the next class period on time.

When I slipped.

And fell.

Again.

After mumbling some choice words in both English and German and brushing myself off again, I arrived at school only to find out that the class I had tried to come to was taking an exam.

Which meant I really didn't need to come at school at all.

ONLY MY LIFE.

Such is life and luckily I have a good sense of humor!

Because, really, all I could do at that point was laugh.

Anyway, my dearest followers, the moral of the story is: stay safe out there in the winter weather!

Lots of Love,

Your Humble Blogger

(Whose bruises and scrapes are healing quite nicely.  Today they're sort of a shade of purple-green.)

PS. The long-awaited Tübingen post will be up soon, I hope!