Plays, Shopping, and Living

Sitting upstairs and eating with a view is delightful.

Weina's choice of 'pig's knuckle'. She said it was delicious.

Yum, yum, yum. My meal of last week and yesterday (and breakfast this morning and possibly lunch).




A little 'addendum' from last week... This small statue displayed in the Museum in the Roman Passage, suggests that the Romans were manly men.

December 5
This morning and the week past.

I step into the dark hallway and press the light switch. Glass-like high pings of music float down the hall as the florescent bulbs wake. Night outside at 6:00 AM. The white of the frozen ground hides in the dark except where exposed by the yellow of streetlamps. All is quiet. Sunday morning. Those not away for the wochenende are resting from a late night and week of hectic activity. After a 10:30 AM cup of glüwein yesterday at the Weihnacht Markt, visiting the Guttenberg Museum while Marion was interviewed by a potential flat-mate near the Dome (cathedral), lunch again at the same restaurant as last week, missing Oxfam because it closes at 2:00 on Saturday, and shopping for a few essentials, we came back to the Sportshaus. Bus 6, from Weisbaden, was late. We, a group of children who had been ice-skating, an elegant grandmother with red hat and scarf and a snow-suited grandson, and an ancient couple waited -- then waited some more. In 30 degree weather with wind (I foolishly hatless) time moves at glacial pace.

The bus, when it came, was full. The automatic door kept closing on us as we tried to get on. We stepped into the midst of the damaged and lame. The vague smell of human waste inadequately cleaned, faces with twisted noses and caved in toothless mouths, wheelchairs with slumped bodies, and happy voices with slurred poorly enunciated words. Others on the bus were standing, avoiding the nearby empty seats. Were they giving space or keeping their distance? The group debouched at the nearest stop to the Weihnacht Markt. The Christmas Market is the center of civic outings this time of the year, action, lights, glüwein, gifts and fun.

At home, rather than lying down in my cozy but isolated room, I sat with Marion and Nur (from Algeria) in the common kitchen.I drank my small pot of coffee in an attempt to quiet my massive headache and enjoyed trying to follow the conversation, mostly in French, between warm, outgoing Nur, an Arabic teacher from Algeria, and Marion. At times, I was able to follow the main flow of conversation; at others, Marion helped in the translations. We talked about teaching, ‘souvenirs’ (memories), the importance of our experiences, and the effects of climate or weather on the way people behave – being outwardly oriented or inwardly oriented. (Environmental determinism, once more, rears its head). Regarding memories, Nur told of a science fiction film where the main character, a very poor man, sold his memories, one by one, as they were all that he had. At the end, he had no memories left. Life, then, had no meaning. So, he committed suicide. How fortunate I am to have such a banquet of souvenirs placed before me each day.

Dec. 3
Everyone leaves the department by about 1:00. At 4:00 I went to the city center for shopping. It is amazingly challenging to carry groceries, new pillow, a bag with a newly purchased longer coat, and backpack onto a completely packed, rush hour bus. People that I bashed in the face with my pillow were most understanding and tolerant. I am so lazy with all the conveniences of an auto at home. So much more isolated though.

Nov. 30
I left immediately after the seminar, walked on my Yak Tracks half a mile, in the dark, in 19º weather, (uphill both ways too : ) to the bus stop. Marion, Weina, and I met at the theatre in the city center at 6:45 so that we could attend ‘My Fair Lady’. We were in the attic seats, furthest from the stage possible. Fortunately this allowed me to stand and sit and stand and sit throughout the performance. The play was performed in German, of course, and, was set in today’s Berlin. Instead of flower girl Liza Dolittle learning ‘proper’ English, punk girl Liza learns ‘hoch Deutche’ – proper German??? The updated version was great with punks, a Pickering who sniffs cocaine, fantastic choreography, and audience participation in the ‘going to the ball’ scene. Liza and Higgins had fantastic voices and had more passion in their parts than in the film. Because Marion and I knew the story and film and music, we could follow the action even though I understood only a word or two spoken. Weina had read a synopsis of the story, so relied on simply enjoying the music and dance. We got home about midnight.