Playing with Fire

Fourth of July is one of my favorite holidays. There is just something deliciously nostalgic about barbeques, fireworks, Summer, swimming, friends, family and patriotism all rolled up into one holiday. And it's really the one time a year that Americans really go nutters for fireworks. I have always been fascinated by fireworks. But they also scare the crap out of me. I've never really had good luck with them; I'm kind of a magnet for firework dangers. One year I was playing with a sparkler in my aunt and uncle's front yard with all the other kids (we were sky writing words) when all of the sudden a spark popped off the sparkler and landed on my collarbone and burned me. Quite predictably I screamed and got all the adults running. Once I was in the kitchen my mom inspected the damage and found that my vest had been burnt along with my skin. I was horrified, more about the vest than my burn at this point, because it was my Fourth of July vest. I have always been quite festive when it comes to holidays. Aloe vera and some hugs stopped the flow of my tears, and I soon was back playing with the other kids. The burn eventually healed, but the mark it left was more a figurative one. I didn't play with sparklers for years after that day.

You can imagine my excitement and fear when I was told that Germany is really big on setting off fireworks for New Years. It's such a weird concept to me, Americans really don't do the whole firework thing on this holiday. I remembered coverage of other countries in past New Years specials on T.V., I just always thought it was strange they set off fireworks. I'm so used to the ball drop in Times Square being the big festivity. Fireworks only fit in two places in my brain 1. 4th of July 2. Disneyland. So I found myself getting excited to ring in the new year a little different than usual.

I spent New Years Eve day reading. No, I'm not that big of a nerd. I put down my book to join my German family (and their friends) for dinner. We had meat fondu. Which is yummy, but tortuous. Nothing like sitting and waiting for your food to cook while your stomach roars like a angry lion. After dinner we went outside to the street to set off fireworks. Since the kids were going to bed before midnight, they didn't want to miss out on the fun. All the fireworks were "kid friendly." Sparklers of course were amongst the options. Which I avoided until I just couldn't stand it anymore. They are just so sparkly. I also had quite a bit of fun with the cherry bombs. Martha and her friend (with their dads) were having quite the thrill setting off little fireworks that whorled and spun around on the street. Frieda and her friend just stuck to the sparklers and cherry bombs like me. But we had just as much fun as the older girls! Once we were out of fireworks I said good bye and headed out into the night to meet up with my friends.

I walked over to Nacha and Bernie's flat which is conveniently quite close to my apartment. Balin (sorry if I'm spelling your name wrong... I'm lousy with names), Bernie's friend, came along too. We all hopped onto the Straßenbahn and found ourselves surrounded by fellow New Years celebrators. After staring at a girls holey stockings for a good 15 minutes (I just couldn't understand why she would sacrifice being warm in order to look so scandalous), we got off the train with all the other passengers. Apparently Durlach was the place to be. After a short walk up a hill we found ourselves at the Turmbergbahn station. (Which I visited with Lea back in October). We found Albert, whom we planned to meet there, and squished onto the oldest train in Germany with a bunch of other people. Thankful to be free of the claustrophobic train, I burst out onto the look out platform only to find it just as crowded, and even more chaotic.

Just a half an hour to midnight, the excitement was tangible in the air. People were all over the place; drinking, talking, and setting off fireworks. Our little group made our way over to an area near the guard rail of the lookout platform. If I got on tiptoe I could see the breathtaking view of all of Karlsruhe lighting up the night. One we settled in one spot, the drinks began to flow. Nacha told us to bring our own cups, which made for a funny sight. Alcohol just looks silly in a water cup. The guys started examining the stash of fireworks we had brought along, just itching to set them off. While they were busy being boys, I people and firework watched. I tried to keep my distance, but because everyone was so squished together it was an impossible feat. Some sparks landed on my jacket several times (one burned a hole) but the boys were much quicker to react and brush off the sparks than I was. Thanks guys!

The view of all Karlsruhe from the lookout platform. Legit right?

These are like beyond illegal in LB, but perfectly legal in Karlsruhe! Wahaha.

As the minutes ticked by, the pandemonium grew. More and more fireworks began to explode above and in the crowd. And then the countdown began. When the clock struck midnight, my world exploded. The noise around me was deafening, as the roar of people and fireworks joined as one sound. And when I looked out over the city, I saw that it was blanketed in the most amazing impromptu fireworks show I have ever seen. It was like the city was on fire. I couldn't rip my eyes away from it.

Nacha, the boys, and I toasted to the new year as it began to rain. I just looked up into the sky and smiled. It was the most simple and beautiful way to start of 2012. Fresh rain washing away an old year. And a new year being escorted in with the startling power and beauty of fireworks. All while surrounded by new friends in a new place. I've never experienced a New Year's like it.

Several moments throughout the night. (All the night's pictures were taken by Nacha).

Not long after midnight people began to clear out, giving the Bernie, Balin, and Albert more space to set off our fireworks. Then next two hours consisted of drinks, fireworks, and laughter. I even dared to play with a sparkler. Twice in one night was really pushing my luck. Nacha (who is from Chile) taught me a couple New Year's traditions from her country. My favorite was taking 12 pieces of rice and putting them in my drink and making wishes on them. Once I drank almost all of my drink, I was to swirl the dregs of my drink and rice around and then toss it out of my cup. If all the rice was gone in one toss, my wishes would come true. If some stayed, I would not get all my wishes granted. All my rice went out in one toss, so I expect some wish granting this year fairy godmother! Haha.

Me staying very far from my arch nemesis... the sparkler.

Note the boys are showing off one of their prized fireworks.

At some point during our two hours of revelry, I was talking to Nacha when something caught my eye and I looked up to find a firework flying straight at me. Looking back, I should have ducked, but my first instinct was just to close my eyes. (Which was a very good instinct. I might not have eyesight in one eye if I didn't.) Almost instantly after I shut my eyes my right eyelid exploded with pain. I tried to flick the firework out of my face but I wasn't very successful so Nacha jumped to the rescue. She was soon able to get the pieces away from my face, but I was still in pain. My eye was crying involuntarily, and I was freaking out about opening my eye. I was so worried if I wasn't going to be able to see anything when I opened it.

Finally I opened my eyes to find that both eyes were in working order. But it was my eyelids that were crying out in pain. After assuring everyone I was okay, I made a beeline to the bathroom to inspect the damage. Once in front of a mirror I realized my upper and lower eyelids on my right eye had been burned. My eye looked perfectly fine. So with relief filling my stomach, I set about wiping what was left of my eye makeup. I soaked the burn in cold water for a bit and then rejoined my friends.

Fireworks and I just don't get along.

The guys set off the rest of the fireworks as Nacha and I just talked. I was quite happy to avoid any chance of getting burned yet again. And talking with Nacha is always fun. So it was a win win situation. When our little group finally decided to leave we were among the few stranglers left of the mountain. We soon discovered the Turmbergbahn was closed and that we would have to walk down the mountain (more of a really big hill in my opinion). Which was quite the adventure considering all of us were quite tipsy. It was quite the giggle and I thoroughly enjoyed myself. But don't worry, all five of us made it safely back down and got on the correct Straßenbahn. The whole way home Nacha blew kiddy bubbles (you know, the ones with those bubble wands). I was dying of laughter. Such a strange place for bubbles.

I got home and was quite happy to curl up in bed and go to sleep. It was quite the eventful New Year's. I wonder if that means this is going the be quite the eventful year. Only time will tell.

Update: My burn has healed quite nicely. Now I just have a scar. Lovely.

Four Stories Up

When I think of apartments, several mental images come to mind. The first being flashes of nasty, grimy apartments that I have been to in my lifetime, and that can be found in many corners of the globe. The second being the ritzy apartments that can be found in major cities (like NYC) that I have only seen in movies and TV. The third being the apartments my friends are slowly beginning to migrate into after leaving home. The last image is a newer, less familiar mental image. It is of the apartment that I live in, and of all the many interesting apartment buildings in Karlsruhe.

The word "apartment" brings a lot to my mind. Some thoughts negative and others positive.

Apartments hold a particular intrigue to me. As a child I grew up knowing that to live in a house was an amazing blessing, and only people on their way to the top had to live in apartments (unless you lived in said ritzy apartments). I always wanted to live in an apartment though. They were just so different from what I was used to.

I currently am living in an apartment for the first time in my life. And I love it! Of course I live in a beautiful apartment, so that makes it hard not to like. It's not the Ritz. But I think it is just perfect.

I will describe it to you!

To get to my apartment you must walk up "four flights" of stairs (more like eight in my opinion... there isn't an elevator since the building is like 200 years old) and then you will arrive at the fourth floor landing. Here you have the option to open two doors. The door directly in front of you takes you into the main apartment. The door to your left takes you to the mini apartment (my room).

The main apartment is where Johannes, Christiane, Martha, and Frieda live. It is very open, big, airy, and sunshiny. The walls and ceilings are all white and the whole apartment has light colored hardwood floors. There is a modern flair to everything, with a touch of traditional here and there.

My room is big, white, and full of light. The floors are a light hardwood, and the walls and ceilings are white. It is a very odd shape because it goes along with the shape of the roof (we are on the top floor), but it is roomy and big all the same. I have my own bathroom which also has white walls, and the floor has really pretty jade tiles. All of the furniture and accessories in both my room and bathroom are from Ikea; which gives it a modern feel. I think the coolest looking thing is the big, white flower light that hangs in the middle of the room. I am not quite finished decorating my room; it is a work in process. But I like how it is shaping up.

My flower lamp! Isn't it the coolest?!

So that is my home here in Karlsruhe! I love it so very much. Whether I spend time in my room, or hang out in the main apartment, I feel very at ease. The sense of "home" hasn't quite happened yet, but I don't think it will be too long before that feeling occurs.

From now on when I think of apartments I think this home will be the first thing that comes to my mind. And that doesn't bother me one bit.

Plane Adventures

Most people really loathe airports; but I love them. As much as they stress me out, I can't get over how much beauty is taking place. At an airport people tend to show their true emotions all over their faces. If they are pissed off at the security guard, you know it. If they are deeply sad that they won't be seeing a relative for several months, you know it. And if there is extreme joy in homecoming of a friend, you know it. There is so much to soak in at an airport. I love just sitting and observing.

I was lucky enough to fly to Germany. And with flying there are airports! The plan was that I would fly from LAX to Philly, and then from Philly to Frankfurt. Three airports! So I was pretty darn stoked. Of course I wasn't so stoked that I would be on one plane for 5 hours and another plane for 8 hours. Quite the trek.

LAX. I can't count how many times I have flown out of this place or dropped off people there. I know this place well. But this still didn't help the nervous feeling in my stomach the whole drive there. Amber, Johanna, and Megan drove me to the airport. Which I loved. They are fabulous friends to wake up early on a Thursday for me.

We pulled up to the US Airways drop off area and got out of the car. At that point I couldn't quite process that I would be leaving California for a whole year, and would be leaving all my friends and family too. So I hugged my girlies and headed off to the check-in counter without even crying. I would have bet money that I would have cried. But I surprised myself. I think I was just too nervous about getting my butt all the way to Germany without issue that I could think about little else.

The lady at the check-in counter was a scary beast to behold. She seemed nice; until she opened her mouth. Attitude with a capital A. But she helped me get my tickets and my big red bag checked; and I am thankful for that. I headed off to security after that.

Ahh security. Everyone's favorite place in the airport. It's hilarious to see everyone stripping off their shoes, jackets, belts, and jewelry. It's quite scandalous if you think about it. No where else in America is that really "allowed" unless you are behind closed doors. The fabulous older lady in front of me turned around and sarcastically said to me "Anything I forgot to take off? Because there isn't much left." All I could do was laugh and shake my head.

When it was my turn to walk through the metal detector the thing went off. I had accidentally bumped into the side of it, and that apparently makes it go off. So I had to walk through it again, and guess what? I got selected for addition screening! Yippee. There is something extremely shameful about standing in a small clear plastic "room" in your socks. You become the curiosity of the moment and everyone stares at you probably thinking, "I didn't know blondes were terrorists" or "oh that poor girl, she is going to miss her plane." It's also embarrassing to think that you are going to be felt up by a female security guard. Thank the Lord they couldn't find an available one! All I had to do was get my fingers swabbed with something and then I was free to collect my things and put my shoes back on.

The older lady who was in front of me earlier was sitting on the nearest bench putting on her shoes. I sat down and joined her. We ended up having a little conversation. She was going to San Francisco for a friend's funeral. Apparently the friend had cancer so it hadn't been a surprise when she found out that they died. But it was still sad of course. I told her about my adventure to Germany, and she smiled and told me that I was going to have a great year. After we finished readjusting ourselves, we said goodbye and headed our to different terminals.

I got to my gate like ridiculously early. So I just sat there and listened to my iPod and people watched. Finally boarding began like an hour and half later. My section (right on the wing) was the last to board. How the heck does that make any sense?

So I got to the front where they check your ticket. The stewardess looked at my rolly suitcase and told me I had to check it because it wouldn't fit in the overhead compartment. I sighed and complied. Though I definitely grumbled to myself about how it so totally would fit. Thankfully I found out later that I didn't have to pay for it. And I must admit that it was nice only having to deal with my overstuffed backpack. So that made me happier.

The plane ride itself was pretty uneventful. I got middle seat (gag me with a spoon). To my right was an older lady (older than the last one) reading a book called "Over the Hill but Not Out to Pasture." I pretty much had to hold in a lot of giggles for that. To my left was a guy about my age. He kinda reminded me of a less surfer boy version of my friend Arthur. The guy slept like the whole time except for when he watched Super Troopers on his Mac. I got a kick out of that. I slept a little, read a bit of The Secret Garden on my Kindle, and then watched a movie. No, there was not an inflight movie, and no, I did not have my computer. I must admit that I watched The Other Boleyn Girl over the shoulder of the woman sitting in front of me to the right. Of course I didn't get sound, but I have seen the movie before so I was fun to make up lines for the actors. I think the lady knew I was watching it. How embarrassing haha. Well, not long after the movie ended, the plane stretched out its wheels and we landed.

Philly. I had never been there until the plane landed. And since I was only in the airport the whole time I was there, I still technically haven't been there. And I was only there about and hour and a half. My first plane landed early, thank God, otherwise I wouldn't have made it to the next plane in time. Because my plane arrived early, we "parked" (it's funny to think of a plane parking haha) at a totally different gate. Which was completely on the other side of the airport of where I needed to be. So I pretty much ran to the bathroom (acknowledging in the mirror that I looked like a total mess), and then ran down the airport (with the help of those cool flat escalators). I couldn't help but laugh because every five feet there were white rocking chairs. Apparently Philly wants you to feel like you are just chilling on your porch when you are at their airport. So I found a food court and ordered Chickfila. At this point I had like fifteen minutes to find the right gate. I fast walked (I was so over running) to the gate while scarfing down chicken nuggets and fries. I found the gate and plopped down into one of those strangely comfortable seats that you only find in airports.

I looked up to find a man staring at me. He seemed European (which turned out to be wrong, he definitely was American). I think I made a pretty big entrance haha, he probably thought I was crazy. We kept making awkward eye contact until it was time for us to board the plane. I was near the wing again (my favorite place) so I got called last again. So did the man sitting across from me. All I could think was "oh my gosh I am going to have to sit next to him, how embarrassing."

I found my seat, and surprise, surprise I had a middle seat again. (I died a little inside). I didn't end up sitting next to the man, but he was a seat over from me. How does that work? Well it was a huge plane! One of the ones with three rows of seats and two aisles. So we continued to have awkward eye contact the whole plane ride. Typical.

The people who I was sitting in between were a married couple that missed their flight and had to get placed onto the one I was on. (So if they hadn't missed their plane I would have had the whole row to myself... such selfish thoughts). They never said where they were from, but I knew. They have the same accents as my grandparents. They were definitely from Texas. The wife explained to me how she was a retired stewardess and had a bunch of flying benefits, so she and her hubby decided to go to Amsterdam (wonder what they were going to do there... giggle). So they had one more plane to catch once we landed in Frankfurt. Dang. That is a lot of airplane time. The couple was super sweet and we talked on and off throughout the flight. I eventually switched seats with the wife so she could sit next to her husband. She wasn't thrilled on sitting in the middle seat, but sitting next to her husband won out over her discomfort. So that meant I got an aisle seat! Wahahaha.

I spent all freaking eight hours as a very wiggly girl. I just couldn't handle the thought of being couped up so long. I wanted to walk up and down the aisles, but you get reaaaally weird looks when you do that. And the stewardesses start think you are going to take over the plane or something. So I stayed in my seat and watched all three inflight movies (well sorta, I fell asleep a lot). Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides is very strange to watch when it is in German. The movie sucked, but at least the German made it entertaining. Next was Water for Elephants in English. Which was great, and I was totally into the movie. That is until my headphones broke. So I was left watching the rest of the movie without sound. Fail. The third movie was one of those Big Mama movies. It was really dumb and I was glad at that point that my headphones were not working.

My favorite thing about the flight came in the form of a three year old German boy. He and his dad were in the row in front of me. And about every five minutes (except for the 5 or so hours that he slept) he would turn around in his seat and talk to me. Which was hilarious. One, because he spoke a mixture of German and English, so it was hard to follow what he was talking about. Two, he was so darn adorable. Three, his father was soooo embarrassed but tried to play it off like it was no big deal. At one point towards the last hour of the flight, the little boy got out of his seat and stood next to mine. I was reading my Kindle, and he really wanted to play with it. So I showed him how it worked. He tried to use it like a touch screen (kids these days) and I just laughed. Eventually I distracted him and we played a game. I would tell him an animal and he would pretend to be it. He really loved being a dragon. The other people in their seats did not like the game as much as we did...

Finally the plane landed in Frankfurt. I was about ready to run down the aisle and hightail it as fast as I could out of the airport. I was ready to get off that plane and start my adventure. But of course I couldn't. The ramp that connects to the plane wasn't working. So all the passengers had to wait for them to fix it. And then when it was decided it wasn't going to get fixed right then, we had to wait for them to find some roll away stairs. We were finally able to exit the plane like thirty minutes later.

My first reactions to Germany? "Dang it's chilly. And wow the sky is blue! Like blue, blue." And then it was inside again. So I went through a line where I had to show my passport, and then it was off to the baggage claim. My luggage was some of the first things out. I grabbed them and awkwardly proceeded to walk away with two rolly suitcases and a backpack.

I didn't see Johannes right away so I figured I would just sit down and wait. Then a horrible thought struck me: what if we don't find each other?! My phone no longer had service now that I was in Germany. And I had no European money to make a pay phone call. Fear started to creep up on me. As I was trying to come up with a plan, I heard my name. It was Johannes! I was so darn glad to see him.  He grabbed my luggage and we set off to the car and to my new life.