Alpine Summer

If you're reading this, you've come to my blog after my trip. So, I'll give you a little information.

I live in Georgia. Yes, the south. I have lived in Georgia my whole life.

I am an English Language and Literature major at a university in Georgia.

In what used to be the user picture, I'm the one in the tan nataliedee.com shirt standing by the flagpole. You can see it here. This picture was in the Schwäbisch Gmünd local paper, the Gmünder Tägespost.

I left for 5 weeks to study in Germany, beginning June 22, 2006 and ending July 26, 2006.

I had an amazing time. This is my story.

I feel that one more post is in order: the return trip!

The night before our return was celebrated in high fashion. A bunch of us hiked into the marktplatz and had a little farewell party at one of the biergartens. We finished it off with our last taste of German ice cream. The good Drs. Norwood and Noll headed back to the Universitätspark before dark, while we walked around for a bit. We found the Garden of Eden – who knew it was in a medieval village in southern Germany? It's this cool little garden surrounded by flats and the back of the bibliotheque. There are statues of Adam and Eve (( Eve is presenting the apple )), a serpent wound around the branch of a tree, an angel flying overhead, and a ram about to drink from the waterhole.

10 o'clock rolled around; we had promised friends and family that we would take advantage of the city's webcam set up in the marktplatz. It was extremely dark by this time, but we found the perfect place. If you look at the webcam image, you'll see a circle in the pathway where the red cobbles meet the grey cobbles. At night, the streetlamp just to the left shines directly onto the circle, so we assumed this would be the most visible place. We mainly just goofed off – the webcam image updates every 30 seconds, but no one knew when the update was, so we'd hold each pose for about a minute. I had come up with the idea that we all lie down and spell out “hi”. We did, and stayed on the ground for about 5 minutes. A few people walking by said hi to us, and most of the people in the biergarten began to ignore us after a minute. After a while, we waved bye to the camera, not knowing if anyone actually saw us, and headed back to the Universitätspark to finish packing.

Coming back to the U.S. was one of the longest experiences of my life. The day started promptly at 5 AM. I, predictably, did not get much sleep between last-minute packing and nerves. I realized, though, that this program is exactly the right length; any longer and I probably couldn't stand the lack of air conditioning much longer, and shorter and I'd probably feel gypped. But, for better or for worse, I'm on my way back to Georgia.

The 5 o'clock hour saw the packing of the carry-on bag with the morning things and the retrieval of my purse from Jake's bookbag. Breakfast at 5:45 AM seems a bit like heresy. I kindly explained to Dr. Noll yesterday that I wasn't entirely sure how well our departure plans will work considering I was not aware of a 5:00 in the morning. The evening, sure. But that early one seems the work of myth.

After breakfast, we loaded our luggage in the giant Mercedes-Benz bus -- shedding a little tear on account that I'll probably never ride in one again – and headed off to Stuttgart. For some reason, the thirty minute bus trip took over an hour. We were not late, though, because we seemingly got up on Dr. Noll's intuition of when we needed to leave. Through everyone's fears of overweight luggage, we managed to check in just fine. We said goodbye to Dr. Noll and headed to our gate. The airport gift shop took credit cards, which I suppose eased us back into American society a little.

The plane ride from Stuttgart to Paris was the worst of all of them. At one point, we were traveling through a storm and the pilot chose not to try to get us above or below it. The plane was rocking back and forth and losing altitude in short spurts. It was extremely uncomfortable and lots of people were freaking out. Everything was fine, though, and we landed in Paris a few hours later. What was really amusing to me was that I was sitting between Paul and Andy, the tall guy and big guy from the flight from Atlanta to Paris.

Charles de Gaulle airport was a little different this time. Last time, we went straight to our departure gate and then realized there was nothing to eat past the security point. This time, we food before we went to the gate – and even then we discovered the snack stands available there. Different terminals have different things, I suppose. The food was pretty gross and pretty expensive. I bought a salad with chicken, but the dressing was bad and there was one single piece of chicken on top. Also, cold potatoes – not so good.

As we boarded the buses to take us to the plane, many of us got stopped to be searched. I was one of them. Everything went smoothly, but I missed one bus and had to take another. I found my seat, and then Paul comes and sits next to me. I'm looking around for Andy, but he's sitting somewhere else. Eventually, a woman whose passport indicates she is Bulgarian comes and sits in the window seat.

The flight was a bit confusing. First, we sat on the runway for over an hour. I had dozed off and awoke to still see Charles de Gaulle. After that, I noticed that they gave us statistics and information about the flight – our altitude, speed, distance traveled, time at destination, et cetera. Also, the same little map from the first flight was there, showing us as a little plane icon on the globe. Adding to confusion, what would be dinner for us was a warm lunch served not long after our take-off. The menu promised a “chilled dinner” to be served later. Though we left at about 5:30 PM local time, we were arriving at 7:45 PM in Georgia, over 8 hours later.

The most fun (( note: sarcasm )) of the flight was Paul. Paul enjoyed the free wine offered to him on the flight, and then decided he should sing loudly. And talk to me. He had rousing renditions of “You've Lost that Loving Feeling”, “Afternoon Delight”, and “Werewolves in London”, among other great classics. Add this to the three young and upset children in the row in front of me, and don't forget the dog in the middle aisle who did not like the crying children, and I had a great flight. At some point after I fell asleep, one of the children spilled a cup of juice down onto my foot. And my pillow I had stowed by my feet. Oh, my seat also didn't recline. I spent most of my time trying to go to sleep, trying to pretend I didn't know Paul, and watching a movie.

When we finally landed, we had to go through customs and Homeland Security. Basically, it was a long line and some paperwork. Also, it seems kind of dumb that you have to collect your luggage, take it to customs, walk through the line, and put your luggage back on a conveyor to retrieve it elsewhere. We rode the train and the moving sidewalks and the escalators and walked and walked to the arrival area. Looking out in the mass of people I wondered how I would ever find my family. I should never have worried, because just moments later I heard a high pitch squeal and my mother ran at me.

Everything after that happened really quickly. We got the luggage, went to the car, headed out, stopped for fast food, ATE IN A BUILDING THAT HAD BOTH AIR CONDITIONING AND ICE, and headed home. And the rest is history.

Today's class was a wrapping-up of sorts. Because we're now talking about Modernist literature, we deal with issues of man-against-society, alienation, dehumanization, etc. These are seen very clearly in what we were assigned to read: Kafka and Brecht. However, it could not be more obvious than to listen to ourselves on a daily basis. Most of us are Moderns or Post-moderns in philosophy, if we have any philosophy. We're cynics and pessimists and think the worst of humanity. Therefore, it's been extremely interesting to see ourselves in this foreign environment. This is a place where we are almost forced to believe there is good in people; if we don't know the language well, we must believe the bits we are told. Without knowing all the customs, we are not sure if we will accidentally offend someone, but we rely on the idea that they will forgive us because we don't know any better. We have to assume we are not being taken advantage of, as well as convince others that we are not out to take advantage of them. I think this is why travel often deeply changes a person. Though I'm not necessarily more optimistic or less cynical, I understand that humanity is not entirely a lost cause. This is an important step, and I think it is very significant that I come to that realization here – this is a country known for strict adherence to rules, which is known most through our education of history for the Holocaust and WWII, for Nazism and many unnecessary deaths. To walk through Dachau, to stand where innocent prisoners stood, and then be able to say there is good in this world is one of the most amazing feelings I've ever had. And THAT is the sum of my experiences.

Nothing interesting happens on a Sunday when we're not on our way back from a trip. We sat around and went to the New Asia Restaurant in the evening. We kind of had to go – we have been there several times over the course of the trip. However, we recently decided to try the China-Thai-Imbiss just down the street. As we were walking to the Imbiss, the man who owns the New Asia got up from where he was sitting outside and began to welcome us in. We highly disappointed him as we walked past his restaurant. A night or two later, Andy stopped in to eat at the New Asia by himself, and the owner was interrogating him. He asked him if he liked it better at the other restaurant, if the menu was better, if the food was cheaper, etc. He asked why we went to the other place, to which Andy replied, “I was meeting friends there.” However, Andy thinks that the man misinterpreted this to mean that we forced him to go to the other restaurant. So Andy promised him that we'd come back before we left Germany. We upheld out promise tonight.

Today we took the first post-poisoning outing today. We went into Stuttgart for about an hour and half. It was a short trip, but Luke was exhausted and slightly nauseous by that point, so we came home. I gathered a few souvenirs while there (( no, I'm not telling and don't ask )). It was pretty laid back, besides the fact that we were on the train back with one of the worst-smelling people I have ever encountered.

I didn't do much today. Because of the sicknesses, we're not going anywhere this weekend. So, today I hung out with Cassi a bit, made two trips to the Norma to get crackers and soup and other things Luke could eat, now that he is eating. Tonight, we watched Kill Bill: Volume II.

This morning I am feeling a lot better. I'm still sluggish, but I don't feel like I'm going to throw up every minute and a half. I was going to accompany Dr. Norwood's other class (( minus Luke )) to Ulm on their field trip, but Luke and Dr. Noll decided that Luke needed to go to the doctor, and I felt like my help was needed. I, indeed, proved helpful when Luke almost passed out and Dr. Noll was trying to get information. He was given an IV of some sort of fluid with electrolytes and anti-nausea medicine, had blood drawn, was physically examined and given a couple prescriptions. The doctor confirmed that it was most likely food poisoning. Luke looked immediately better after the IV and continued to get better as the day went on.

I spent the majority of the day just helping him out. Nothing much to comment on. I took a couple of naps; though I'm feeling much better, I still have little stamina. Jared let us borrow a few movies, so we set up the computer and watched Kill Bill: Volume I.

Another day in bed. This time I managed to get up and go to lunch. Luke and I quarantined ourselves off to the side and ate bread and yogurt. Then I went straight back to bed. By late night I was feeling a lot better.

I think the title says it all. I spent the day doubled-over in bed and half-sleeping. Stupid (( probably )) food poisoning. I missed the field trip to Stuttgart with the class. Luke went but came back without actually visiting the Stadt Gallerie because he got sick on the way.

This is tons of fun.

Today we talked about the advent of Realism (( capital R )) in literature and what Madame Bovary did for everything after it. I was not personally impressed by the text in general, though it had a few redeeming qualities. The attention Flaubert paid to the tiny details was something that one could directly see reflected in prose like that of James Joyce or most modern poetry. Without first knowing the exact shade of Emma's dress we might never know exactly what sound a priest's robes make when he walks past.

None of the characters were particularly likable. I think this owes a lot to the nationality of the author and his characters. It has become a joke that no one likes the French and the French don't like anyone, but it's basically true. My father always said, “Even the French don't like the French.” I think this is very visible in this novel. In creating something Realistic, something here-and-now, his characters would naturally be members of then-modern France. Being a Frenchman, himself, Flaubert could not like his characters – the best he could seemingly muster is pity. Pity from the pathetic; we don't ever really like Emma or Charles, but sometimes we feel sorry for them. This makes perfect sense . . . the French are full of the pathetic! If you really step back and analyze each of the relationships presented in the text, nobody likes anyone. They think they're in love, they're controlled, they live through others vicariously, they're obsessed, they're amused, but they never genuinely like another.

It's funny to me that this is considered THE first Realistic novel. It set the scene for all the rest of the bunch. If you've ever wondered by Realistic literature is harsh, maybe you should see where it all started.