An Interlude, Part.1

Until Zora finishes the blogs about her travels I'm going to hold off on starting on Oxford. The two of us should be able to put our energies in to that in unison anyway. For the time being I want to tie up a few loose ends from previous posts as well as answer a request concerning the people I've met during my time abroad. While I'm at it, please feel free to let any of us know if there is something you'd like us to talk more about. Since we're living it certain things do get minimized unless we are asked to focus on them. With these posts I hope to catch a few such things before they fall through the cracks of my memory.

Stumble Stones of Freiburg

Embedded in the pavement bricks and stones of Freiburg are the "Stumble Stones". These are small bronzed plaques bearing the names of Jews who once lived at that address and their last known age or DOB. They serve as a rememberance of those who were deported to concentration camps or murdered outright. You are supposed to stumble over the stones, which I did a few times, look at them, and remember the tragedy and horror inflicted on the population.

Don't Look at Me

Matt made a point of the German social norm of being a bit on the quiet side in public, but most importantly not making eye contact. I sort of laughed it off at the time but it turned out to be true. When out in public people adopt a sort of sideways method of looking at other people, but direct, prolonged eye contact which we consider normal for some reason produces a very akward moment with the Germans. People are also generally quieter in public. You feel that your auditory personal space is respected more than usual. I can't say I minded that; however, you physical personal space isn't are important. Germans also don't really take turns in line. Skipping in line happens, and wherever you can insert yourself is yours regardless of the usual standards and ways of treating others. Don't even try holding a door, no one says thank you and no one will give you a chance to step through. Eventually you just have to let go and shoulder your way through the crowd. The system works though.

A few words of Welsh

Personally I haven't had much interaction with people using Welsh to communicate, though I think I just haven't had the chance to look in the right places. The only non-student to ever use it towards me was a guy at a grocery store today. He swtiched to English once I "spoke to him in clueless" and repeated his question. He was asking if I liked Cadbury Eggs (yes I do) in case you wondered. Having heard students try to manage it I will say that it sounds better, or at least more like another language (as it should) from lifelong speakers. In terms of the language Zora would be able to offer more, but those are my observations.

By and large the Welsh are very nice and very helpful. That has made negotiating all the new places a bit easier. People have also been quick to give advice, history, or other comments that have added to my time here.

The Welsh will eat outside in the rain rather happily, especially if they have a half decent bench. The parks are so pretty here I can't blame them and have joined them plenty of times. Takeout at the sandwich cafes (the general alternative to pubs for fast and cheap lunch food that isn't American fast food) is cheaper than eating in by a good margin so dealing with a sprinkle of rain is worth it.