So, it's been awhile, and I'm sure you've missed me. I know, I know, the world DOES seem darker and devoid of some deep, fundamental happiness when I'm not around, but it's just something you have to deal with at times. I've heard Camomile Tea helps.
I don't have any earth shattering news for you, just a couple little things I've collected over the last month or so. And no, they aren't in order of awesomeness.
Awesome Experience #1:
I guess I should start by saying that, in the weeks leading up to Winter Break, I had begun to do some work in small discussion groups of about five people. It wasn't anything major, just a short conversation about pretty much anything language is capable of expressing: politics, TV, food, music, things like that. It was fun, I liked it, and I think it was good for the students to have an actual conversation. And it's only a matter of time in these groups before someone asks about hobbies. It's what people do. I can't explain it.
Anyway, I gave them the usual answers I had gotten used to over the last couple months: "I play banjo, like to write," blah, blah, blah, but then I got ahead of myself and started actually answering the question. Oops. I'm not sure what it was, the air, the cereal I had had for breakfast, or the chance for interaction with the students at school apart from read ridiculously slow, but I started getting really excited and talking about other things I enjoyed. Like Mullets.
They're fantastic. I love them. In the Holy Trinity of hair I love, they are Nummer eins, followed closely by a good comb-over, with the rat tail rounding out the set in a distant third place. But that's beside the point. It took a bit of linguistic gymnastics, for they were as yet uncultured in the Ways of the Mullet, but the Spirit descended on them, and before long they were preserved in a goodly spirit of brotherhood and affection toward the Kentucky Waterfall and Tennesse Tophat.
By the time I had gotten this far and explained what the hell I was talking out, I noticed the looks of slight repugnance on their faces. Was it that they did not appreciate business in front, party in back? Could this be true? No. But that still didn't change the fact that they looked as if I had been explaining to them that "cow poo don't smell so bad, once you gits all used to it." I thought I had failed. They had failed to see the Light, smell the Hair Spray if you will. Five souls lost.
Boy was I wrong! A couple days ago, Andreas had the class break up into groups to play a kind of version of Jeopardy he had made up, and before they started, two girls over in the corner said they wanted to talk to me. OK. Thinking they wanted to ask me about some word or grammar they didn't know, I sat in a chair at thier table and warmed up my "split second grammar wizard machine."
But there was no word, no grammar. Instead, they offered me something far greater; a picture they had taken of a German Mullet. Now, I've seen Germanic mullets, and I have to tell you, they are something else, so you can imagine my excitement when I was offered physical documentation of their greatness.
They took the picture, they said, on the ferry from Puttgarden (a village on the northern end of the island) to Denmark while trying to find something to do over the Winter Break. I'm still trying to process the concept of going to Denmark because you're bored. My friend Ben and I drove to Elkin over the summer on a whim, but that doesn't seem to have to same ring to it.
And what REALLY makes the story awesome is that she lied to get the picture; she told the guy that he looked like her stepfather, and she wanted to take his picture! I have no idea why this excuse worked, but it did. God, that's awesome! I haven't actually gotten the picture yet, but I'll let everyone know when I do. I'm sure you really care.
Awesome Experience #2:
Monday was a cold day. OK, everyday is a cold day here, but Monday was especially cold, one of those days that seems to say: "Oh, what's that, you forgot your hat this morning, did you? No gloves? Where are they, on your desk? I'm so sorry. Here, I have a set in the closet, just let me go....SIKE! Sucker! God, you should have seem the look on your face! Man!" That was what Monday was like. Exactly.
Anyway, I was leaving school at around 4.00 in the afternoon, trying not to bust my ass on the patches of ice as I neared the curb. The sky was a deep gray, it's pastural beauty accentuated by the stinging mist that blew at sharp angles off the distant sea and through the trees. The sheen it gave the lingering ice reflected a single black bird as it left the side of the school, the wind tossed the branches of a dead tree. The weather WAS as good as the news said it was going to be! I don't know if Poe ever visited this place, but if he didn't, he was sure missing something. Winter here is so freaking brooding, it's great! But that's not my story.
As I was standing at the edge of the street waiting for the crossing light to turn green, two older ladies started talked across from me, one pointing at me with her cane every now and then as they talked. My first thought was: "What are they talking about? Is my hat really that stupid looking?" It is, by the way. Then, after a couple of seconds, I thought: "Awesome, an old lady is pointing at me with her cane! Neat!"
As I crossed the street, the lady with the cane asked: "Are you coming from the school?"
"Yes"
"So late? Oh Gott, oh Gott."
Need I explain how funny it sounds when someone says "oh Gott, oh Gott" really fast while looking at you with a face that seems to scream: "This cannot be!" No? Good. She then asked me what I was doing, why I was there so long, which I gladly answered. Oops.
I noticed that as the number of words increased, the expressions of both older ladies seemed to become less expressive and more akin to what you expect when someone, say, watches a dog pees on your shoe, or as someone has a sudden mental breakdown in the middle of the street. There was a short of reverse symbiotic relationship between us then: the more I said, the less they appeared to register. It was special. It touched me.
It took awhile, but I finally noticed that they didn't really care what I was talking about, so I told Chatty Mctalkerson to find something else to do, and I went on my way. Then it hit me:
THEY THOUGHT I WAS STUDENT DOING WORK UNTIL 4.00 IN THE AFTERNOON!
Yes! It's good to know that I can still be confused for a sixteen year old High School student. I'd grow a beard to prove them wrong, but it would look just pathetic and patchy, completing the picture.
I've learned so much about myself here; apparently, I'm a sixteen year old Swiss\Schwäbisch High School Student who does way too much work.
I don't have any earth shattering news for you, just a couple little things I've collected over the last month or so. And no, they aren't in order of awesomeness.
Awesome Experience #1:
I guess I should start by saying that, in the weeks leading up to Winter Break, I had begun to do some work in small discussion groups of about five people. It wasn't anything major, just a short conversation about pretty much anything language is capable of expressing: politics, TV, food, music, things like that. It was fun, I liked it, and I think it was good for the students to have an actual conversation. And it's only a matter of time in these groups before someone asks about hobbies. It's what people do. I can't explain it.
Anyway, I gave them the usual answers I had gotten used to over the last couple months: "I play banjo, like to write," blah, blah, blah, but then I got ahead of myself and started actually answering the question. Oops. I'm not sure what it was, the air, the cereal I had had for breakfast, or the chance for interaction with the students at school apart from read ridiculously slow, but I started getting really excited and talking about other things I enjoyed. Like Mullets.
They're fantastic. I love them. In the Holy Trinity of hair I love, they are Nummer eins, followed closely by a good comb-over, with the rat tail rounding out the set in a distant third place. But that's beside the point. It took a bit of linguistic gymnastics, for they were as yet uncultured in the Ways of the Mullet, but the Spirit descended on them, and before long they were preserved in a goodly spirit of brotherhood and affection toward the Kentucky Waterfall and Tennesse Tophat.
By the time I had gotten this far and explained what the hell I was talking out, I noticed the looks of slight repugnance on their faces. Was it that they did not appreciate business in front, party in back? Could this be true? No. But that still didn't change the fact that they looked as if I had been explaining to them that "cow poo don't smell so bad, once you gits all used to it." I thought I had failed. They had failed to see the Light, smell the Hair Spray if you will. Five souls lost.
Boy was I wrong! A couple days ago, Andreas had the class break up into groups to play a kind of version of Jeopardy he had made up, and before they started, two girls over in the corner said they wanted to talk to me. OK. Thinking they wanted to ask me about some word or grammar they didn't know, I sat in a chair at thier table and warmed up my "split second grammar wizard machine."
But there was no word, no grammar. Instead, they offered me something far greater; a picture they had taken of a German Mullet. Now, I've seen Germanic mullets, and I have to tell you, they are something else, so you can imagine my excitement when I was offered physical documentation of their greatness.
They took the picture, they said, on the ferry from Puttgarden (a village on the northern end of the island) to Denmark while trying to find something to do over the Winter Break. I'm still trying to process the concept of going to Denmark because you're bored. My friend Ben and I drove to Elkin over the summer on a whim, but that doesn't seem to have to same ring to it.
And what REALLY makes the story awesome is that she lied to get the picture; she told the guy that he looked like her stepfather, and she wanted to take his picture! I have no idea why this excuse worked, but it did. God, that's awesome! I haven't actually gotten the picture yet, but I'll let everyone know when I do. I'm sure you really care.
Awesome Experience #2:
Monday was a cold day. OK, everyday is a cold day here, but Monday was especially cold, one of those days that seems to say: "Oh, what's that, you forgot your hat this morning, did you? No gloves? Where are they, on your desk? I'm so sorry. Here, I have a set in the closet, just let me go....SIKE! Sucker! God, you should have seem the look on your face! Man!" That was what Monday was like. Exactly.
Anyway, I was leaving school at around 4.00 in the afternoon, trying not to bust my ass on the patches of ice as I neared the curb. The sky was a deep gray, it's pastural beauty accentuated by the stinging mist that blew at sharp angles off the distant sea and through the trees. The sheen it gave the lingering ice reflected a single black bird as it left the side of the school, the wind tossed the branches of a dead tree. The weather WAS as good as the news said it was going to be! I don't know if Poe ever visited this place, but if he didn't, he was sure missing something. Winter here is so freaking brooding, it's great! But that's not my story.
As I was standing at the edge of the street waiting for the crossing light to turn green, two older ladies started talked across from me, one pointing at me with her cane every now and then as they talked. My first thought was: "What are they talking about? Is my hat really that stupid looking?" It is, by the way. Then, after a couple of seconds, I thought: "Awesome, an old lady is pointing at me with her cane! Neat!"
As I crossed the street, the lady with the cane asked: "Are you coming from the school?"
"Yes"
"So late? Oh Gott, oh Gott."
Need I explain how funny it sounds when someone says "oh Gott, oh Gott" really fast while looking at you with a face that seems to scream: "This cannot be!" No? Good. She then asked me what I was doing, why I was there so long, which I gladly answered. Oops.
I noticed that as the number of words increased, the expressions of both older ladies seemed to become less expressive and more akin to what you expect when someone, say, watches a dog pees on your shoe, or as someone has a sudden mental breakdown in the middle of the street. There was a short of reverse symbiotic relationship between us then: the more I said, the less they appeared to register. It was special. It touched me.
It took awhile, but I finally noticed that they didn't really care what I was talking about, so I told Chatty Mctalkerson to find something else to do, and I went on my way. Then it hit me:
THEY THOUGHT I WAS STUDENT DOING WORK UNTIL 4.00 IN THE AFTERNOON!
Yes! It's good to know that I can still be confused for a sixteen year old High School student. I'd grow a beard to prove them wrong, but it would look just pathetic and patchy, completing the picture.
I've learned so much about myself here; apparently, I'm a sixteen year old Swiss\Schwäbisch High School Student who does way too much work.
posted by Der verwirrte Ausländer at 2:27 AM
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