OKTOBERFEST! And FALLing in Love with München.

As I write this blog post the thermometer outside my window is slowly creeping down towards five degrees Celsius, which equates to about forty-one degrees Fahrenheit. I finally get around to writing about how beautiful the weather has been the last few weeks and then on my walk home this morning I lost the feeling in my nose and ears. This next weekend the HIGH is supposed to be forty degrees. 

I've jinxed myself. 

But I'm going to look on the not-too-recent bright side of Munich and just be thankful I was able to experience fall in Germany at all, even if it was only for two weeks. Because for the last ten days or so I've been strolling down gorgeous tree-lined avenues that look like this:

 ♥

 

 And like this.

 

 

 

 

 And like all of these.

It's entirely possible that I've gone overboard on taking random pictures of the German countryside, but even if I have I feel my excuse is legitimate. Some times I just can't help myself. 

I would also like to point out that the beautiful little house pictured above is not an uncommon sight in Munich. Even in the city center the buildings are surrounded by flowers in delightful little boxes underneath windows and beside doors. It's enough to make me want to be posh and drink tee outside of little café's every day for the rest of my life. I think I'm slowly being Bavarianized. Or Europeanized. Either one is fine. 

Which actually brings me to my next point: Bavaria. And then Oktoberfest. The interesting thing about Bavaria, the state of which Munich is apart, is that so many of the things Americans think of as being 'German' are actually quite specific to the Bavarian region. Like Cuckoo Clocks. And Dirndls and Lederhosen. Giant pretzels? Bavarian. And of course there's the world's largest and greatest fair: Oktoberfest.

Now overall my experience with Oktoberfest was pretty incredible, and the festival itself lived up to my high expectations. But I have to say that my first impression was not so great.

 

Picture this: 

It's six-thirty in the morning on the first day of Oktoberfest. I arrive at the festival with three of my friends, and it's pouring rain. Literally. It's hard to find a person walking around who doesn't look like a miserable, drowned rat. For three hours we stand, huddled together under umbrellas, trying not to poke the eyeballs out of the groups similarly huddled all around us, and periodically having torrents of rain dumped on top of our heads from the group of tall, German men standing next to us, whose umbrellas inevitably re-routed the rain falling on top of their heads into our bedraggled laps. Entshuldigung. Excuse me. Was that your head I just wacked with the side of my umbrella for the millionth time? My bad.

The highlight of our morning was cheering on the security personal as they personally escorted people trying to cut to the front to the back of the line. Which, in case any of you were wondering, for being so terrifically organized in most aspects of their lives the Germans are horrible at queuing in any sort of line. It's every man and woman for themselves. Add in the promise of obscene amounts of beer and revelry to that equation and things turn ugly REAL fast.

Despite this we eventually made it into the first tent of our Oktoberfest experience. Over the next two weeks we would experience several different ones and this first one, the Schützen-Festzelt tent, was unanimously our least favorite, but after standing in the rain for so long we would have been happy for a seat in the first aid tent. As long as they served beer. 

 

Inside of the Schützen tent, about five hours into the festivities. It's difficult to tell from the picture, but the entire crowd is standing up on the benches of the tables. 

Probably the coolest thing about going on the first day, and possibly the only reason I would ever go on the first day again, was getting to be a part of the opening festivities. Like the parade!

 The not so great part was waiting in line for the restrooms for roughly, and I am not exagerrating in the least, forty-five minutes. Ten stalls for about three thousand women. It was not a pretty sight. Girls were literally crying because they had to pee so badly, squashed all together in a massive blob of estrogren and Dirndl's. Getting through the door was like being swept through on a wave of human bodies. I was clinging onto the door frame for support at one point.

Now you may be thinking, this doesn't sound like very much fun, and the truth is our first day was kind of a bust. We ended up sitting at an unmarked reserved table and consequently were kicked out of our seats thirty minutes before the festivities actually began. It was another several hours before we were able to find space big enough for the four of us, or even have our first Maß, but eventually, thanks to some awesome Austrians, we had a table to dance on and a bench to sit on while we ate our chicken. After that things got a lot better and each time we went back to Oktoberfest it was more and more fun. I met some really cool people from all over the world and got to wear my Dirndl six or seven times, which almost makes up for it's exorbitant price. And I was able to walk on my own two feet away from the fairgrounds every night, which is more then I can say for some people. 

Oktoberfest, thank you for the 'time of my life' and the crazy stories, most of which are better told in person.

And now some pictures, which do a far better job capturing the festival then I ever could. 

 

 Welcome to DIE WIESN!! Oktoberfest, for all of those not in the know :)

 Stop. It's Dirndl Time!

See the Hofbrau Maß in this photo Dad? You're looking at your souvenir :)

 

 Augustiner Tent

 Hofbrau kegs on their way to the tent.

We love giant, Bavarian pretzels. 

And a video!!

This was taken inside the Hofbrau tent and will give you an idea of how amazing the atmosphere was. P.S. This song was, by far, my favorite to dance to.

So there you have, in a nutshell, my Oktoberfest experience. 

Prosit!

Oktoberfest ist zu ende.

As of last Friday I am officially a legal alien. That's right, I now have my Visa, and have no immediate thought of being deported. As long as they don't find out about my bank heist. The whole process was actually quite intimidating. I went by myself to the Auslander office early on Friday morning to try and make an appointment. I had previously gone with my host mother the Monday before, but we didn't have all the necessary paperwork with us and she was unable to take a second day off from work, so yours truly was back four days later all on her own, surrounded by Germans about as happy with their jobs as the poor souls who work inside the DMV offices. I sat in the waiting room for about an hour before my number was called, and during that time one of the lady's dealing with people like me kept stalking in and out of her office in between appointments. She was crabby and looked as if she was taking no prisoners. Thanks to her I had an upset stomach all morning.

I'd already decided to try and conduct my interview entirely in German. To be an Au Pair in Germany requires at least a basic understanding of the language: they won't grant you a Visa unless you can credibly prove some comprehension. I didn't have any sort of certificate; I had an unofficial copy of my transcript which listed my single German class and I was afraid it wouldn't seem too believable if the first words out of my mouth were, "Mein Deutsch is nicht so gut. Bitte sprechen Sie Englisch?" Anyone can Google Translate and memorize that. I just knew though that if I was unlucky enough to have my number called by that woman she would make the process as difficult on me as possible. She'd talk a mile a minute and ask me half a dozen seemingly irrelevant questions. I sat in that waiting room for an hour, all alone, envisioning myself being shipped back to California with my tail between my legs because one grumpy lady was going to brand my German inadequate. Nobody can ever say that my imagination is inadequate because it took me to some pretty crazy places during the course of that hour. You can imagine my relief when my appointment ended up being with no doubt one of the friendliest employees in the entire office. 

And, despite her speaking rather slowly and not questioning a single bit of my application, I understood most of what she was telling me and was able to correctly follow all of her instructions.

Sarah: 1 

Deportation Committee: 0 

This last weekend my friends and I were racking our brains trying to think of something relatively cheap and entertaining to do that didn't involve crazy amounts of money or any considerable time spent outside. We'd already been to the English-speaking cinema the last four weeks in a row and had pretty much exhausted that option. Although there's nothing more delicious then going to the movies on a rainy day. 

Eventually we decided upon bowling, which turned out to be a lot of fun. It was all disco-lights and screaming children and even some bowling lessons for Siobhan. And I made friends with one of the waiters and got a plate full of free candy.

 

Giant, gummy dolphins and lizards. And mice! 

 No one does Haribo quite like the Germans.

This week is the last before my mini-holiday. My host family will be traveling through Halloween and the first few days of November and I'm planning on making a few day trips to places like the Austrian city of Salzburg and the Neuschwanstein Castle while they're gone. And I get to sleep in!

 

And now, some random thoughts and minor grievances that pop into my head whilst I go about my days :)

1. An iPod filled with music is the best way to pass the time while waiting for trains and buses.

2. Coffee is not nearly as disgusting as previously thought. 

3. The same goes for sparkling water.

4. And liverwurst.

5. Fall is, by far, my favorite season. 

6. Not being able to watch any television shows opens up a whole lot of free time in a person's schedule.

7. Nobody does Halloween quite as well as the U.S. of A.

8. Replacing all of the Eis shops with candied nuts for the winter season is lame. Doesn't anyone understand that the colder the weather, the more time you have to eat your ice-cream before it melts?

Rest in (Temporary) Peace Balla Benni's Eis Shop.

9. A hug and a smile from the boys can make my day instantly better.

10. Guys in Lederhosen = Happiness. 

11. Schittgablerstrasse is an awesomely hilarious name for a bus stop. And yes it's pronounced exactly as it sounds.

Things I miss:

1. My family and friends. 

2. Ice-cubes.

3. Free water in restaurants. 

4. Macaroni and Cheese.

5. In'N'Out.

6. Halloween.

7. My dogs.

Anyone who can ship me any one of these items will be my best friend for life.

Seriously.

XO

Sarah

 

 

 

 

Happy Two Month Anniversary to Me and Munich!

Oy vey. It's been so long since I've updated this blog that I don't even know where to begin.

I'm just going to post a random picture of a street in Munich, to act as my lead in.

And also because its a really pretty building.

Note the beautiful blue skies in this photo, which I've learned to take full advantage of while I can. One day it will be warm and sunny and the next day it will be ridiculously cold and pouring rain. I'm afraid I may have overestimated my ability to handle living in the cold. Time to invest in some serious winter clothes. My only other option is to never leave the house, which I'm sure some snowy mornings will seem like a really good idea.

But looking on the bright side, when it does snow there is a massive hill just behind my house that I'm told is a great spot for sledding. And once the children all go to bed the adults apparently gather back outside and go to town on the sleds themselves. Which is awesome.

Today is the the twenty-first of September, which means I've been in Europe for exactly two months, and also means that in less then twenty-four hours Oktoberfest will officially begin. I can't even begin to convey to you how excited I am, or how amazing the energy is in the city right now. Tourists have literally been POURING into Munich over the last few days. It takes twice as long to get anywhere by train or bus, and I've heard more English accents in the last week then I have in the past two months put together. I'd gotten used to just tuning out the conversations going on around me, because I couldn't understand most of what was being said anyway, but now I can eavesdrop again, which makes for a much more interesting journey on the U-Bahn. 

And for anyone who, like me, is wondering why the name of the festival isn't Septemberfest, I found out that it used to take place later in the year, but was moved to the middle of September to try and insure that the weather was nicer. Although I looked at the forecast for tomorrow and its supposed to rain all day long, so there you go.

Three weeks ago I went to a local Oktoberfest celebration in the town of Rosenheim, which is about a forty-five minute train ride outside of Munich. It was much smaller then the actual festival, but almost everyone we met was actually a resident of Munich. There were so many people wearing Lederhosen and Dirndl's and it was so cool being inside the beer tents, which were much bigger then I was expecting them to be. And I bought a Dirndl, which I'm completely in love with. I think I'm more excited about the opportunity to wear it around for the next three weeks then anything else.

It's kind of difficult to tell from this picture exactly what it looks like, but I'll be sure to get a better one tomorrow. Hopefully sometime in the morning before I start to drink any of the German beer, because after one or two maß the chances of me getting a decent photo are absolutely depressing. 

Inside of one of the two Rosenheim beer tents, though as you can see, I would hardly call this mammoth structure a tent. If you look really closely at the middle of the frame you can see what my friend Siobhan calls the Oopma Loompa band. Every so often they would play a special drinking song, at which point everyone would begin to sing along with our maß held up above our heads. At the end of the song you cheers everyone at your table and say Prost!. And if you don't look the person in the eye as you say Prost you will supposedly be cursed with seven years of bad sex, so be careful out there. 

The boys are all officially back in school so I've returned to somewhat of a normal schedule. I get up in the mornings and help them all get ready for the day, and then walk with the three youngest to their respective day programs. During the day I am free to do as I please, and then in the afternoons I pick the boys up from school and then help the parents until bedtime, which is usually around eight thirty. 

The boys LOVE playing soccer, and my football skills have gotten about a million times better since I've been here. I'm not sure FC Bayern is ready to recruit me yet, but give me another few months and I'm sure they'll be begging me to play for their team. Speaking of, I am determined to see them play at the massive Alliance Stadium while I am here. The Germans take their football very seriously, and from what I can tell the atmosphere at the games is like the bleachers at the Giants stadium multiplied times twenty. There are parties going on in the train stations before the games even start. 

This just looks like fun. But be careful, the video is really loud.

Two weeks ago we had a birthday barbeque for Miss Shandi, which was a lot of fun. We went to one of the biggest grocery stores I've seen since I've been in Germany, and went to the 'ethnic' food section where they keep the American food labeled with little American flags so you know you're in the right place. If ever you're feeling homesick you can buy off-brand macaroni and cheese, Pop Tarts, cheese Whiz, marshmellows, peanut butter, or cake mix. Which except for the random candy selections, is the entire section. 

High-class cuisine. 

We did buy a box of the cake mix though, and I must say we made some awesome cupcakes, which looked like this...

 Sehr gut! Und alles gute zum Geburtstag Shandi!

  

We also somehow managed to make our way to the clubs to continue the celebration later that night, which is another story entirely, and danced the night away, literally. I came home the next morning with about five pounds of glass stuck to the bottom of my shoes, a tragic end to my favorite pair of heels. 

And finally, last weekend I tried Vietnamese food for the first time in my life, and it was absolutely delicious.  I spent a good part of Sunday exploring the English Gardens and people watching with the other Au Pairs, and had some of the best Eis since I've been in Germany.

I've also had multiple conversations entirely in German. Mind you these were very basic conversations, but they still took place all the same! My new favorite phrase is "Ich verstehe, aber ich habe eine schwierige Zeit Deutsch zu sprechen." I use it almost every day.

This time tomorrow I'll be at Oktoberfest, and I can't wait to tell you all about it :)

XO

Sarah

Vegas has got nothing on AMSTERDAM! Except for the casinos.

So a few days turned into a little more then a week, which shouldn't surprise me because I'm horrible about procrastinating when it comes to my writing, but I am finally updating my blog with my trip to Amsterdam!

If any of you were waiting on the edge of your seats for this blog post (hello Madre!), I apologize for the delay.
P.S. Mom, thanks for always being my biggest fan and reading everything I put in front of you<3

Our trip to Amsterdam began in the Dublin airport where, for the first time in my life, I ate a bagel with cream cheese and salmon on it. And it was delicious. I also briefly considered spending an obscene amount of money on four different books, mostly because I've been having withdrawals not having my own personal library of at my fingertips, but then I remembered that I am an Au Pair with quite a limited income, and that somewhere in Munich there is supposed to be a second-hand, English book store. In the end all but one of the books remained on the shelves, which took an almost embarrassing amount of willpower and quite a bit of internal debate.

   

Plus I'm 99.9% sure the flight attendants wouldn't have allowed this to fly as my carry-on, so it's a good thing my common sense won out in the end.

When we arrived in Amsterdam a taxi took us to the apartment we were staying in, which was on one of the many canals coursing through the city, and very picturesque. The Anne Frank house was right across the street, as well as the Westerkerk Cathedral, which Anne frequently mentions in her diary. It was surreal to hear the same bells chiming that she found so much comfort in, but I must say that, although I love me some church bells, even I apparently have a limit of endurance when it comes to how often they chime. These bells went off every fifteen minutes, NO MATTER WHAT TIME OF DAY OR NIGHT, and once an hour they would play a lengthy song. The first few times I loved it. Really up until about two o'clock in the morning I loved it. But then, after it woke me up roughly five different times, I started to feel a little bit differently about the Westerkerk bells. Theresa swears that the Jetsons theme song was played every so often, but I can't personally vouch for this. Although I've heard rumors that Stairway to Heaven has been played.

Beautiful, but should only be enjoyed during the light of day. Although watching him play the bells is pretty spectacular.
 

The view from the front steps of our apartment.

That first night we had Italian food for dinner; five Euros for pretty much anything on the entire menu. You would think at those prices the food would be a little sketchy, but it was actually really good. Plus there were musicians strolling up and down the street where the restaurant was located, which made the food taste even better. We also, much to our disgust, saw a public, open toilet in use for the first time. Men would literally just stroll into this little cubicle, pull their pants down, and go to town. Their lower body is covered, but their head isn't, and at one point I accidentally make eye contact with someone. Most awkward experience of my trip, hands down.

Friday we walked around the canals of the city, and even took a boat tour. I attempted to listen to the information in German, but only got about three minutes in before I switched back over to English. But it's the thought that counts, which is what I'm going to tell the people at the Visa office if they give me any trouble. I am trying I promise! I've even had quite a few legitimate conversations in German, because English was simply not an option. I'm starting to be able to read advertisements and understand announcements made on the trains, so there's hope for me yet!

Friday afternoon we went to see the Anne Frank house, which was very haunting and left a strong impression on me. Otto Frank, Anne's father, wanted the rooms to be devoid of any furniture when they opened the museum to symbolize the void left behind by the millions of people who were deported and never returned. There is a small model set up in one of the rooms: it looks like a little doll house, and it shows exactly where all of the furniture was. The most poignant thing is the original markings on the walls tracking the growth in pencil of Anne and her sister over their two year stay in the annex, and seeing all the pictures pasted on the wall in Anne's room: the original photos she clipped from magazines and newspapers. There were a few comic strips and pictures of movie stars and entertainers. There was a small photo of the young Princess Elizabeth, and postcards of famous pieces of art and moments in history. It was difficult to imagine how they could have borne living in such cramped quarters for two years. They couldn't make a sound during the day, because the men working down in the warehouse below the annex were not aware of their existence. Almost every step I took was accompanied by a sharp creak of the floorboards; they would have barely been able to move around at all. The walls were dark and were lit up only by the dimmest of lights; all of the windows were covered with heavy curtains so that no light could escape through them.

You walk all throughout the rooms of the house, and up through the secret staircase with the bookcase hiding the entrance to the annex. The attic is one of the few places visitors aren't allowed access to, but there is a mirror set up so that you can see the window Anne mentions quite frequently in her diary.

"The two of us looked out at the blue sky, the bare chestnut
tree glistening with dew, the seagulls and other birds
glinting with silver as they swooped through the air."
Anne Frank, 23 February 1944

 

Entrance into the secret annex. 

They also have many artifacts left over from Anne and her family, including Anne's actual diary, the typewritten index card which categorized her into the records of Bergen-Belsen, and quite a few family photos and video recordings. The Red-Cross letters are on display which confirmed to Otto Frank the deaths of his entire family, as well as interviews with various people who either helped the family whilst they were in hiding, or remembered seeing Anne in the concentration camps. Anne's handwritten short stories and poems are up on the walls: her father publishing her diary was the kindest memorial he could have given to the girl who wanted nothing more to be free, and to be a writer. The fact that she is now such a celebrated authoress, despite her short life, was one of the most inspirational things I took away from the museum.

I tried Indonesian food (or at least I think it was Indonesian food, I can't quite remember) for the first time Friday night, and like the salmon bagel, it too was absolutely delicious. I think my taste buds most slowly be dying off, because I am much less of a picky eater then I was five years ago. I actually think its fun to try new foods now, whereas before you couldn't pay me to eat anything that smelled or looked remotely different or foreign. I guess I'm growing up :)

I also have to stress how in love I am with the street performers I've seen thus far in Europe. And the fact that they have giant chessboards set up that anybody can walk up to and play with. 

Awesome street performers:

Giant Chess board:

 (I've seen several of these in Munich as well. One of these days I'm going to challenge someone to a game.)

Saturday Theresa and I took a little trip to the Red-Light District. I'm not sure exactly what I was expecting, aside from the obvious, but I can say that it was interesting to see, and that it was quite an experience. We went twice, once during the day, and once at night. In the daylight hours it was more humorous then anything. We went to a condom museum that Theresa had read about on the Internet...

(Window display at condom museum.)

And poked around in a few of the shops. There were a few women sitting in front of the windows but most of them just looked ridiculously bored. Some of them had their phones out and weren't even paying attention to what was going on in the street. There were a few bachelor and bachelorette parties strolling around (the bachelor parties made more sense then the bachelorette parties), and mostly people who you could tell were just curious to see what it looked like. It's true what they say about cameras though: we saw a few people whip them out to try and take pictures, and the women get really angry. They'll open the doors and yell at the offender to delete the picture or they'll call the police. So good luck if you want to try and take any illicit photos.

During the night time it was much different, kind of seedy and gross. Of course this is coming from my perspective, me being a woman (obviously), but it wasn't the prostitutes that creeped me out as much as the guys who literally just stood there and stared at them from the other side of the glass. Some of them would make really lewd comments and others would just sit there with drool pooling at the corners of their mouths. Not very attractive.

And this is the only picture I have of the Red-Light District, because I was not in the mood to get my camera confiscated. But I saw all the red lights. They exist!!

So that, basically, is my trip to Amsterdam in a nutshell. It was a beautiful city, at least the outer, more touristy part of it. And the last thing I'm going to say about it, is that if you're a pedestrian, check both ways about FIVE HUNDRED times before you cross the streets. There are thousands of people cruising by on bicycles and motorbikes, and they will literally plow through you if you get in their way. Half the time there isn't even an actual sidewalk for pedestrians, you just have to dive into a tree or a bush if you see one coming. At the very least they ring their little bells at you from about ONE MILE away so you have ample time to find a decent bush. So considerate. The cars are pretty crappy too. Theresa and I were half standing in the middle of a road because there were so many bikers flying past that we couldn't make it up onto the sidewalk, when this car comes flying around the corner and then speeds up when he sees us in the street. It was like he was trying to prove a point: pedestrians don't belong on the roadways! As if my mother hadn't already taught me that invaluable lesson when I was five years old. And this is an exaggeration by only the slightest, it really is that bad.

"My experience in Amsterdam is that cyclists ride where the hell they like and aim in a state of rage at all pedestrians while ringing their bell loudly, the concept of avoiding people being foreign to them." -Terry Prachett (See it's not just me.)

I'm paraphrasing my last two weeks in Munich because I waited too long to blog about them, and because I don't want to sit here writing a novel. Let's just say it was filled with a lot of fun people: really great clubs and karaoke bars. A little bit of shopping, a little bit of sight-seeing. I went swimming two different times at a lake with a gorgeous view of the Alps, and to an Aquatics center with the boys and my host parents because it's been so incredibly hot here. I've had movie nights and sleepovers with the other Au Pairs, and I went to eat at the Hard Rock Cafe so that I could get my ranch and macaroni and cheese fix. They're also one of the only restaurants that will give you re-fills and ice in your beverage. And the only place where I can get a glass of still water for free. So there's that. I went to an English-speaking cinema and to a really good concert at the Olympic park, and spent the whole week with one of the cutest four-year old boys I've ever met. Every day I feel closer and closer to each of the boys: they're all so special and pretty spectacular.

I feel like, as of yet, I haven't given Munich nearly enough attention, especially because I think it's such an incredible city, but I promise to rectify this problem within the next few weeks. I'll have more time now that the boys are back to a more normal schedule, and now that I've finished writing about my trip to Ireland and Amsterdam it will be much easier to focus on my life here. Next week: it's time to buy a dirndl and get ready for Oktoberfest! (which actually takes place in September), and post my list of the things I want to see and try in Munich before I leave. Which I first have to finish writing, and which I'm sure will get longer and longer as the year goes on  :)

Theresa:

This is why I love you and why it was so hard to say good-bye to you in Amsterdam. Because you eat cheerios like a pigeon. Miss you already.

And to my padre: Happy Birthday!! I wish I could have been there to celebrate with you but I know we'll have many more to come. You're the best dad a girl could ever ask for. And I'm not biased. :)

XO

Sarah