I was Georgian.

One might believe it's a boring American apartment as I mention my roommates from Georgia and New Ulm. But to your surprise, the New Ulm is the original, a suburb of the German Ulm, and the Georgia is that on the edge of Russia.

She's pleasant to talk with, but it was an awkward conversation as I asked my roommate about her home country and how many people live there.
Her answer came "About 5 million, but there are fewer now."
My curiosity continued, "Oh, is the population shrinking like it is here in Germany?"
A somber answer, "No. Russia bombed Georgia last August."
"Oh."
(How does one respond to that? )

Conversation aside, the Georgians are fun. Last Thursday after a Weindorf Kater, my roommate's boyfriend knocks on my door and invites me to a beer. Hesitation--thanks to the Kater. But I sit down to the table and am greeted with a full plate of salad, potatoes, and sausages. The sour Georgian form of ketchup accompanied it all, to which I certainly had to adjust.

But what was most significant was to learn the Georgian word for "Cheers", which I would spell out as "Cow'-mar-joz (with fist pump accompaniment)." Pago, Marie's boyfriend led every time we said cheers, as is Georgian tradition. There's a pre-determined order for things to cheer to. And clinking glasses is deceptive as you hold your glass up but frequently set it back down on the table without taking any gulp--Germans would not approve. However, when you finally commit to drinking it's all-out. There's no sips; simply bottoms up.
Well, I'm officially welcome with full accomodations in Georgia. (It may have been the bottle of vodka, 6-pack of beers, and bottle of wine talking that these guys drank.)

Yet, it's these types of experiences that make me really enjoy being abroad and encountering ever new cultures. It's something we never really have growing up American.

This would be Dieter on the right; the crazy man who invited me to attend the Fränkische Familie.

And again I joined the Fränkische Familie from Crailsheim as I put on the traditional garb and walked in the parade.

The city was 7,000 people (yet still had a beer tent with capacity of 1,000). The horse in the carriage behind us went berserk and ran away without any restraint, down the parade route and, hopefully, not doing any damage.

Here, the gown girls wear. Finally found out the reason for the different hats--I just knew girls wore the little bonnet thing and women the full-scale hat. Marriage is the difference. huh. Guess it makes sense.

So the week was a cultural experience. I watched Germans dance on their tables any time they enjoyed the song being played in the tent. I learned that they sleep under the table if they've had too much to drink. Heaven forbid they leave the tent; when they do that, they won't be allowed back in. Too much to drink calls for a pause, not a conclusion. I told my German colleagues about this funny discovery, "of course. Yeah, duh" was their answer.

Well onto the next week of a German adventure.

Later Days,
Rick

I was Fränkisch.

German offices have a wonderful attitude about personal life--it's important and they agree upon it. With current global influences transitioning Germany towards the American model, the climate is changing, but essentially it's still European. Take for example where I met my colleagues this past Thursday. A bunch of interns worked till and gathered around 8 p.m. to go to our Weindorf--the Stuttgart wine festival. As interns do, we went and sampled a few glasses of wine while trying local dishes such as Maultaschen, Käsespätzle, and Schnufnudeln. But what made it truly great was moving on to a bar and running into more co-workers. It's not just the interns that appreciate a beer after work or a Thursday night out on the town, it's the whole crew. Welcome to Germany.


And truly something German is the strong appreciation of regional heritage--the equivalent of saying "I'm from Maple Grove and damn those in Maplewood" or Minneapolis vs. St. Paul. Every small region has its own traditional clothing, called Tracht. This weekend the director of the exchange program between Worthington (where I grew up) to Crailsheim (our sister city in Germany) invited me to march in the parade in Augsburg in traditional fränkischen Tracht. The following photos depict me, the American, during my day as a true native.

The people in the crowd waved and applauded as we walked past. It was the easiest parade to date--no marching, no instrument, no paying strict attention to lines and beats, and unlike the Minnesota Marching Band which marched in the State Fair parade on the day following this Augsburg parade, unfortunately no crazy dancing to all the great Minnesota Gopher cadences.


Extremely simple as it was, the best part was the ending. Sure, before the parade there was a large island set up simply to hand out beer and pretzels to the parade participants (not apples and water like normal American, seriously beer and pretzels.) The best part was the end destination. The entire parade and all participants marched into a humongous beer tent. I envision the image from the sky similar to Animal House as the band turns the corner and follows the abducted drum major into an alleyway. So is it at every parade. The farther in front you are, the sooner you arrive in the beer tent to eat and drink till happiness.


So, I gladly took part!

That's the big news of the week. I'm back with the group this coming Sunday and, until then, enjoy the momentary chaos that is my current project leader. Smart and friendly, one marble still went missing.

Later Days,
Rick

"Drag"ging through Konstanz

About my second weekend after arriving in Stuttgart, some friends I first met in Berlin invited me to Konstanz in Southern Germany right on Lake Constance, for a celebration they were holding.

Here's Suzy and Jessica to the left.

We first met as Jeff (another Transatlantic Program participant) and I were headed to the Brandenburger Tor to watch a soccer championship. It turned out that there wasn't a showing of it, but while walking, we met these two and two others on the way there. They had also looked for this game's public showing to no avail. Anyway, we hung out with them for that night, kept in touch, and they invited Jeff and me to their farewell party in Konstanz.
Konstanz is in the same state, so I agreed to go as it'd be easy to get there.

We knew they all worked in the theater in Konstanz, but did not expect the show we went to.
After arriving in Konstanz, Jessica informed me we were going to the theater that night. I thought, great, as I always enjoy going to the theater.

The show was Jens's drag show where he played the tempermental, lounge-singing, joke-craking Tamara. I knew Jens from Berlin as well. I wouldn't have minded, if I hadn't been pulled on to the stage while only understanding 1/2 of what he was saying. (The concept of allusions common in jokes are beyond me in a foreign language.) I had the luck of arriving late and took a standing spot in the back, direct in Tamara's line of sight.

Tamara/Jens couldn't resist himself at one point in the show by looking straight towards the back and pulling me on stage.

There were jokes: there was a red couch where a cute 17-year old girl from the audience was also dragged onto the stage to accompany me; there was awkwardness of sitting awkward and unconfortably in front of 50-100 Germans.

Fortunately, the pain passed and I was then greeted with pity and mixed reception by every party attendee who saw the show. They knew immediately that I was the American.

However, as you see here on the left, that didn't hinder me from dancing foolishly. That sentence is debatably redundant. Foolish could be left out and "i danced" would implicitly carry this meaning.

Either way, everyone there grilled, ate pasta salads, and danced till the morning. We finally slept around 7:00 a.m. and I caught my train later that day.

"kohnshtahnz" (as the Badisch from the city pronounce it) was a great time. It's a beautiful city immediately at the point where the Rhein river meets Lake Constance. Tourist abound and, for that weekend, I gladly counted myself as a mitfeierer--one who takes part in the celebration.

Later Days,
Rick

The Friend that Always Wants to Follow

Short, dark, and handsome—and always with drink in hand. 56mm tall and a petite 9.6 kilograms, the Focus comes in, it glides into the room sporting a midnight blue coat with white trim and an international label that reads “German Lightweight Engineering”.

This is my graduation gift to myself. Instead of a down payment on a car for working in the US, which brings regular, irritating monthly payments, my senior-year savings contributed to a full-payment (no “down” crap around here—aside from the direction all of my bank accounts have gone since traveling abroad and purchasing such a ride in Euros.)

One month and 255 kilometers into our relationship, we’ve already seen much together, survived a few bruises through the days, and gotten lost together—following a random man in a skin-tight uniform back to Stuttgart. (It was another guy on a road bike in full biking gear—it’s more humorous to describe it the first way. Basically, I was taking a different way back; we very shortly we figured out we were both headed back to Stuttgart and he pointed out the turns to the city. It was nice having a pseudo guide to make sure I found the way safely. I found the path again, thanks to his directions, and then I zipped back on the way I knew.)

So this Sunday the 26^th, I woke up late, as usual, and with a city map in my riding backpack, I plunked my finger on my city map at places that looked interesting and said “I’m going there.”

The first stop was a look-out point over Stuttgart. Weissenburg. As you figure from the words “look-out point” and “burg” (mountain/castle), it was UP the hill. Biking that direction was initially hard. We traveled about 3 kilometers away from my apartment to this place that featured a pleasant beer garden/restaurant at the top.

Next, after enjoying the downhill ride, a few unplanned turns planted me at Marienplatz (Platz=square)—a primary subway stop with restaurants and cafes around it.

A quick look at my city map incited an interst to head off to Feuersee, (Feuer= Fire, See=Lake/Sea) (By the way, I didn’t take any of these photos, obviously. I forgot my camera, and just swiped these from online so you can see what I saw.) In the middle of this residential area with the University down the street, I arrived at a large, sandstone-colored gothic church as a peninsula in a man made lake, which happened to host an electrical model motorboat race that afternoon. Along with the café and restaurant visitors, a small crowd gathered to both observe and participate in racing the 15-inch contraptions around red and white buoys stationed in the pond.

The next large construction I was to pass was the Rotebühlbau (Bau=building), which turned out to be the finance agency for the city. To my disappointment, the area was quiet without guests, reception, or tours.

However, the next stop—Robert Bosch Areal and the Liederhalle (Song Hall)—are the locales for evening entertainment, featuring classical performances in the hall and the latest movie releases at the Cinemaxx theater.

But only around the corner, I find myself in the city park, adjoining the University of Stuttgart. On this sunny afternoon, Germans are out with beach blankets and books, most as students preparing for their final exams in the next two weeks.

And here I find myself. Alongside my blue, German stud seated calmly in a beer garden/restaurant in the middle of the park, I found it a perfect chance to detail my ride and my rad (Rad=wheel, i.e. bike).

I ride about 3-4 times a week, typically around 30 kilometers per time (approx. 18.6 miles) and am really proud of my progress to date. With my last ride of 30 Km, I averaged 27.7 kmh/17.2 mph with stop-and-go in city traffic, but, more importantly, I floated at 31 kmh/19.2 mph when actually riding. It’s not pro by any means, and it is flat riding along the river in Stuttgart—the Neckar—but it’s progress I’m proud of. I still need the glasses and the skin-tight gear to round out the biker look. But, to-date, I’m pleased and it’s still treating me well, keeping me active, showing me the city, and providing my best defense against an impending gut from the delicious meats and cheeses available everywhere along with the regional specialties—delicious but dangerous—Maultaschen and Käsespätzle.

A buddy that goes everywhere I want to, shows me the city, works out with, never criticizes, always poses a new challenge, and always looks sharp; that sounds like a pretty good friend.

Later Days,

Rick

German Grandmas Bake Cake

(i'm skipping a lot here, but this weekend is fresher in my mind)

The last three (four) days each will likely remain unforgettable. Friday remains something I have to get used to. I haven't had obligations on Fridays, basically, for the last three years (since fall of my freshman year, when I wised up to avoid having classes on Friday--ever). After 13-hour days Tues & Wednesday and an unaccustomed obligation on Friday, I seemed to seethe discontent. I left at 4:00 to ride to 4 hours to a city near Basel called Steinen, where Philipp--a great friend from Freiburg--lives.

The summary, it was extremely comforting to spend time with a good friend. Being around Minneapolis with great roommates, friends down the hall, and a small college (the business one at least), friends are always close. But I'm new in Stuttgart, and Germans are slow to befriend, so it was such a great weekend to hang out with Philipp. (Plus, I hadn't seen him for almost 2 years, so that added to the anticipation.)
First, you'll note the amazing view in the picture. It's the view out one of Philipp's balcony's. You know, it just happens to look right into the rolling hills of the black forest with (just off to the SW) a castle clear on the hillside--happenstance.

This picture also shows half of the village Philipp lives and grew up in. Awesome it's still called a village. The little white house is where his Grandmother lives.

Here's Philipp's Oma (Grandma). I was hoping she'd be the cute grandma stereotype--conversational, busy-bee, bakes a lot, proud of her family, her garden, and her cakes. She certainly was!

She's from Cologne, so she speaks her dialect Koelsch. I understood a 1/3 (at best) of what she said. Philipp can understand, no problem (despite the fact that many of the words are actually different.) But I was unable to tell that a Buggle Broden was a Tuette Broetchens. (Something to such an extent. Like I mentioned, I don't what she said.)

She was great. She was pitting cherries (very German) for a cake. And, as Philipp informed me, there will always be cake when you visit his grandma. We had 2 pieces and somehow ended up with 1/2 a cake to take home!

She was a lot of fun. (I just hope I didn't offend her when I'd screw up the formal and informal address.)

As the first photos show, I finally visited the village of Steinen, where Here lives Philipp=Hier wohnt Philipp hangs. And, as must be expected, we enjoyed a few chilled Rathaus biers simply relaxing and chatting on the balcony.

Despite my desire to adapt to Germany, to become eingedeutsched (this is the adjective used to describe english words in the German language, like Managen, and Hedge Fond). Anyway, note the food. I didn't even think about it, but Philipp called it and and laughed "ha, it's true that Americans do eat like that!" For me, these little differences are always amusing.

Philipp was a tourguide through the village of Steinen, the town of Loerrrach, and the city of Basel (in Switzerland.) I think the UofM is bigger than Steinen and Loerrach (definitely) and, with as many commuters as we have, almost as big as Basel. I grasped the size concept quite quickly and the tours were brief. Anyone remember touring the UofM as a prospective student and they tell you to plan for nearly 2 hours?

Philipp works at UBS as a trainee (i.e. on-the-job training before being a full-time employee.) Germans are great at creating new forms of education. It's actually what helped them become a leading economy--honestly, it's one of their strong points--education and Rothaus.
I basically mandated this photo. Like I said, I take no real tourist photos, but I'm always stoked to see businesses I know.

In essence, it was a relaxed weekend--visit a great friend, sit on the balcony, make some breakfast, walk around town, have some dinner, fall asleep in front of the TV as a bad French (stupid French) movie drags along, sleep in (until the church bells ring for an hour without stop), eat some more, have a beer. Yep, simple, but unforgettable.

Today still counts in the "last 4 days I won't forget". Well, it's the latest I've ever worked in the office. Granted there was the all-nighter while at E&Y, but that was at home and for other reasons. But I officially left the office on the next day. (Surbhi and other I-bankers, you're free to attack and call me out for almost whining.) It wasn't bad, but it does remind me that working late is one thing, typically very tolerable. But working late and going home when everything is closed, I mean almost EVERYTHING. Typically you could leave late and still get groceries or pick up paper towels from Target. In Germany, I feel I have to leave early just so I can beat the stores from closing before I leave work. We'll see how long I can go on 1/3 container of milk and some almonds...

Until next time (maybe I'll get around to the drag show in Konstanz where I was pulled on stage, the first days in Stuttgart, the irritation that is the Foreigner's office, or the hobos that get to listen to classical music in all the places the city doesn't want hobos hanging out. Until then.

Later Days,
Rick

Finally what $3,000 bought for me.

To come to Germany, I applied to this Transatlantic program; it's sponsored by the German American Chamber of Commerce. They help us with the work permit and host this 10-day seminar in Berlin and we pay them, basically $2900.

First problem with this number is that here was what my personal balance sheet before I had to pay the fee:


(it's like any American college student's balance sheet. We're broke, we know it. I'm no different.)

(4 years of business school and now this is how my brain works. I could have just said "I'm a college student and seldom have $3000 just sitting around. Nope, I need the balance sheet.)


I figure out the fee. Done. What did I just pay for? The company I'm working at, I actually applied to last year on my own. The program doesn't help with housing search or the residency permits (pain in the rear. There's more about that later.)

However, after having to leave Minnesota 2 days after graduating, and after shelling out 3K for something I'm uncertain of, I started the program in Berlin. Cozy hotel, so much food, and a couple of day trips for show. 3K for a broke college graduate. Alright, alright, alright. Now it's clearer.

From May 23-June 1, 20 students from across the U.S. met at the Hotel Ambassador to practice our German in speech courses, meet with German business men and women, take tours, and travel to nearby cities.

Let me first start with meeting my roommate. He's a jazz studies major from So. California who wears a beanie to hold his 3 foot long hair. Chill guy, aside from snoring he was totally fine. But the contrast is certainly funny

My side of the tiny (European) hotel room (Left): (as you know, I'm a strong Type A personality)
His side of the room (right)


From 4:00 p.m. that Saturday that we first met to June 1st, we were basically together all waking hours of the day. From breakfast around 7:30 to last moments of dinner's dessert at 9:00 p.m. we were one pleasant group. It wore on us so much that basically half the group was ill or falling asleep constantly by the end of the week. Side note: The coffee is not as strong here. Largely unpleasant.

What else did we do, I'll summarize with some photos:

We toured ALL of Berlin. (...right after lunch where we had our own bus and comfy seats for the 1 1/2 hour long tour. Even the speech instructor was nodding off! That made me feel better when I napped for 15 minutes of the tour)










We practiced how to talk to our German bosses. Be very formal. Remind them who the heck you are and why you're bothering them. Be patient. Be prepared to hear no.

Turns out, my boss/supervisor the first time I met her interrupted me to say "we are all informal around here. It's all on a first name basis." ...don't know how realistic this practice was.


We learned about green roofs. Literally, roofs that are green because they have plants growing in them. It's a way to prevent rainwater runoff and to increase insulation.

Note that our guide, the one to whom we're supposed to dress (i.e. if she's in a suit, so should we, if she's in business casual, so should we). She's there in jeans and a t-shirt and we're in suits. Always we had to be in suits--it was a bit overdone and looked so awkward, like in this photo.



Here are the green roofs. This is at Postdamer Platz, which was built around 1994, shortly after the reunification of West and East Germany. Hence, the modern technology in an old city.










We saw German news being reported. It's almost like a photo from a zoo. They're working, we're dripping over the rails oogling at what they're doing.

On the right is the chief editor (in the tie) talking with a colleague who's writing the front page headlines.
This was the Berlin Tagesspiegel--one of the most distributed newspapers in Germany.



We went to the Federal Ministry of Economics (and Technology) and spoke to the director of policy for middle market companies, which represent about 97% of all German companies.
(under 500 employees and under 500 Mill Euros per year)

This was my favorite, since it was all about the current economic state.
The guy we met is way in the middle (hard to see). The others were bored, but I had a blast.



We went to the Department of Foreign Affairs. The speaker was really fun and animated. He spent the time going through how the German parliament is set up, which was news to most of us.
















I had the joy of presenting this man from the Office of Foreign Affairs (the equivalent of our State Department) with my Minnesota gift. I opened my bag in Berlin to find that Chicago security had ripped the gift open only to cover the thing with their wonderful "INSPECTED" tape.






We traveled to Dresden and toured the Volkswagen manufacturing plant where they make the Phaeton, their luxury $80,000 car.

Like no other factory I imagined; it's all glass, completely clean, extremely quiet, and very modern. It was clearly designed to bring car purchasers in so they could see their car being made.






We listened (dozed) through a presenter speaking in Sachsisch. Dresden is in the state of Sachsen. They, like Bavaria, have a certain dialect that gets hard to understand. Imagine either a far north Minnesotan or a deep south Alabaman. +the foreign language, + dimmed room, + after lunch = nap.






We walked around Dresden. Here's just the city center. It's a wall mural depicting the 16 kings of the city (I think.)
There's nothing like this in the U.S. and here it's just something the local residents pass by every day.











We toured Airbus in Hamburg.
The guide was ridiculous. He was a Brit that married a German. He spoke half the time in German, but he'd assume we didn't understand him, so he repeated the majority in English. There were two German students along with our group who barely spoke English. They were not happy.





We took public transportation in Hamburg--a boat. It runs like the light rail, but is a much cooler form of transport.


(Behind me are the cranes that unload the boat shipments that come in through Hamburg's famous harbor)







We toured Hamburg with a real estate developer.

This was about day 9. We were exhausted. We had no free time. The topic was great and interesting, but we were just done.








We took part in the local culture. This was more on our own time.
(We bought a pitcher at a Biergarten and each had to take a photo like this.)











We had a cultural training seminar. (This was a bit outdated. From my experience at the firm I work, it's so laid back. This trainer warned us it would be way different than what I perceive it is.)














10 days, each full of meetings and different experiences. We went out a few nights, but were exhausted to try anything else in the city. From June 1st I rode the train to Stuttgart where I've been for almost one week. I'll add more about the pains of German bureaucracy and how the redeeming factor is constantly my great workplace.

Later Days,
Rick

No, I do not Have the Swine Flu.

I finally made it to Stuttgart, the city where I'll work. It's been almost two weeks in the land of bier, punctuality, and bureaucracy. Hence, I'll focus on the better parts. (p.s. This is Germany. The red dot/arrow is Stuttgart)

I flew out on May 20th with the pleasant Air India. Well, first it was a 5:30 a.m. ride to the airport to arrive in Chicago as early as possible, because Air India kept changing the flight to Frankfurt. So what once was a 3 hour layover with time to get lunch and change airlines became a 20 minute impossibility.

While en route, I ran into Alex Moss in the airport and this guy, Kevin Daly, in Chicago. Listen up graduates, it must be true when the Carlson School tells us our network of alums is worldwide. (It might be a cheap plug, I realize.)




The flight was amusing. Here's my attempted photoshop recreation of the experience:
My window seat (with no window, just wall) placed me next to a priest and a hygenically challenged swear-to-goodness IT Indian male. (I figure I'd avoid using someone's name in vain because of that priest.)

The swine flu:
I arrived in Frankfurt and spent the night in a hostel in the red light district. As soon as I got to the hostel they, fortunately, let me check in to my room where I woke up this french girl. She takes a moment to become coherent and we converse briefly. In which she asks, "Do you have the swine flu?" Apparently all Americans probably have swine flu, because we had the most cases of it. You know how I feel about the French...add this illogic to my list of things about the French.

(note the room number--same as my home town area code. Woot woot for Southern Minnesota. It's not really that awesome, but it was small things like that and finding soap that was named "Sticky Ricky" that made me laugh--it made me not want to use the soap--but it made me laugh.)

So while in Frankfurt, I found the Houlihan Lokey office. Houlihan Lokey is where a good friend, Surbhi, is working full time (for those of you who might not know her.) And what do I without fail do when I find a cool office that I recognize, I become a tourist. Old castles, museums, sculptures, street artists don't motivate the photo, sweet offices do. It's slightly embarrasing to report, but I definitely have more photos like this.


After spotting all this, I stumbled into a market square where these stands were each selling a variety of foods. I ended up with currywurst and a beer; it made it official that I was in Germany.

Funnier yet were the stands selling Bowle. Bowle is the German form of Whop. Whop/Bowle is fruit soaked overnight in alcohol (vodka for calmer events; everclear for parties) and then mixed with a variety of juices and other alcohol. The fruit is so laden with the vodka, it is nearly the equivalent of a shot. The mix becomes fruit punch (uh, so I've read...). I've only seen Americans try this at parties, Germans are just selling this stuff on the street like it's an option equal to a coca cola. Yep, welcome to Europe, Rick.

So was the trip from Minneapolis to Berlin where I completed a 10-day program. That I can describe in the next post, which will certainly be sooner. A 10-day whirlwind with us busied between 7:30a.m.-9:00p.m. Following is the joy of German bureaucrocy and settling in to Stuttgart.

Until then,
Later Days!