Michael Vick '10

Needless to say, my expectations were far off. Berlin is unique in that much attention was given to it after reunification. Even though some tenements and remnants of East Germany remain there, the “Wessies”—and their ideals—concentrated in West Berlin quickly diffused into the eastern parts. Dresden, by comparison, lies deep in eastern Germany, far from any border with the former West.

Following WWII and Soviet occupation, the East German government decided against rebuilding every historical building. Even today, almost 20 years after reunification, there are still areas in the city center that are little more than fenced-off holes in the ground.

While this was an interesting break from what I'd seen in other cities, I found the plaques describing the rebuilt buildings even more intriguing. For example, the description at the entrance of the Baroque Fairground and Zwinger detailing the history of the area describes the Anglo-American destruction of the city, followed immediately by the Soviet liberation of the city from the Nazi tyrants.

After reading about and discussing the ways in which people from either side of the Wall had their respective Cold-War-ideologies ingrained into their thought processes, it's fascinating to see how even historically “neutral” buildings could be decorated with state propaganda. I especially wonder if I only noticed the wording in that description because I'm a Westerner, or if Germans from the former East Germany still notice such propaganda while in the West.

Another difference that I noticed in Dresden is that the most lively part of the city was not the Altstadt, as in other places I've visited, but in the so-called Neustadt. While the baroque architecture and museums are in the older part of town, the newer area is the place to go shopping, meet friends, get a bite to eat,  or go to clubs. While walking through the Neustadt to my hostel, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was walking through an American city, even though far more English-speakers could be found in Berlin.

It now seems serendipitous that the last city I visited before I'll return home was so vastly different from the others I've seen during my time here: I feel that I was starting to think I had seen enough of Germany to “sum it up.” Dresden reminded me, however, that it really is impossible to generalize a culture very distinctly, and that I could spend the rest of my life studying this country and never stop learning new things about the German people.

In photos: Upper right, View from the Zwinger looking towards the entrance to the fairgrounds; at left, the Zwinger now houses a sculpture museum; lower right, The Hofkirche and Schloss on the Elbe.

I feel saturated with a whole collection of information from my trip. I´ve taken in a wealth of information ranging from French cuisine to French culture, etymology and the French economy, and much more. This experience has opened my eyes and allowed me to view a grander picture than I was able to see solely within the United States.

I´m certainly going to miss Nice once I´m back in the states, or at least some of it's characteristic qualities. To be honest, the cuisine will be the greatest loss, but certainly not the only one. Leaving my great (and eclectic) group of friends and classmates, the metropolitan life, the mediterranean, and the mystery of a completely foreign culture to return to a sense of normalcy will be rough. But, of course, it will be nice to have the conveniences of home, and some regional American food, waiting on my return.

More importantly, though, I feel that this trip, which I expected to feel like a psuedo-vacation, was one of the most rigorous mental exercises I´ve experienced. When you´re forced to grind your gears just to communicate the most basic of concept, or to pick up on the conversations carrying on in, say, Spanish or Italian, you can´t ever turn off your mind or zone out until it's time to sleep. It's even become fairly difficult for me to communicate as well as I'd like in this blog because such a relatively small portion of my day is spent speaking or listening to English.

The week has been amazing though, and relaxing, of course, even as much as I complain about how hard I´m working to just communicate or comprehend anything. I've found a secluded beach under a rocky coast about 100 feet tall that is perfect for snorkeling with school´s of fish completely unafraid (or unaware) that I´m even around. The snorkel set, which I bought about two blocks from my house, was probably some of the best spent money this whole trip. I can say with a good degree of confidence that my last afternoon will most likely be spent snorkeling on the coast.

For my last night here, we´ve planned to go back to the family-style all-you-can-eat mussels restaurant at the port, which I´m beyond excited for. The rest of the evening will most likely be spent wandering aimlessly around the town for gelato and espresso and, admittedly, some touristy shops for me to buy the rest of my souvenirs. We are also tentatively planning on taking a trip to the observatory in the alps that is just outside of the Nice city limit, which should of course provde some outstanding pictures for my last night in south of France.

All in all, I don´t know that I´ll ever have the chance to do something like this again, and I'm so grateful for the opportunity. In one month, I was able to celebrate (for lack of any better term) Bastille Day, watch the Tour de France from arm's length, go to the Casino at Monte Carlo, ride in a Lotus FX, travel to Italy and all over the south of France, eat some of the best food I´ve had in my life, and even expand my already-holistic view of general wellness and nutrition, all because I have been completely immersed in this place for the past month.

And I´m just as thankful for every nuanced experience of the trip as well; the small conversations, the street food, the new friends, everything. It´s unfortunate that the trip is over, but I can at least return home having gained so much.
 

Michael Vick '10

However, my fears were dispelled the moment I stepped out of the main train station and was greeted by a large tower remaining from the old city wall directly across the street. The Koenigstorturm also stands at one end of the Handwerkhof, where goldsmiths, glass-blowers, and other craftsmen and -women produce hand-made products right before your eyes. Although there's a sculptor in Goettingen who frequently works on the corner outside of his shop, watching him work pales in comparison to walking down a narrow street and seeing a whole slew of wares being produced in almost every shop.

What I found most interesting about the Handwerkhof, though, is that it stands in the heart of the city, yet it feels as if nothing exists beyond the wall of shops. One has to listen closely to hear the screeches of trains arriving at the station or hum from automobiles outside the square. The square itself is enclosed by a portion of the old city wall, which now serves as the boundary between the more modern city on the outside and the Altstadt on the inside.

Nürnberg also made me realize something that's been in the back of my mind since I got here. While many towns and cities in the U.S. still have pedestrian zones with small shops — remnants from the town's past and reminders of its cultural heritage — these areas rarely thrive as they do here.

In my hometown, many a newspaper article present plans for revitalizing downtown; here, the “downtown” areas seem to be the most vibrant, prosperous parts of any city. They teem with life, yet they are also ripe with the relics that give the city purpose and historical value. On any given day in Nürnberg, one can go to the plaza in front of the 700-year-old Frauenkirche (Church of Our Lady) to buy fresh fruits and vegetables, or one could enjoy a nice meal directly outside the gates of the 900-year-old Kaiserburg (an Imperial fortress built early in the history of the Holy Roman Empire) at the northern edge of the Altstadt.

Perhaps I don't see it because I'm an outsider looking in, but the conflict between development and preservation that is all-too-common at home does not seem so frequent here. Luckily, all I have to do to find out if my perception is accurate or not is go to a restaurant or cafe, sit down next to someone, and ask!

In photos: Upper right, The walkways were almost deserted as the Handwerkhof was preparing to close. The sign to the left marks the glass workshop, while the sign to the right marks the shop of a leather-worker. At lower left, The Frauenkirche stands at one edge of the City Market, where vendors set up their stalls and tents to sell their products.

Alex Ingram '10

This week has provided great political insight into the workings of the EU and the French political system as well. Everything from passports to license plates to health care seem to be unversalized through the EU to make a system that seems to work fluently. One of our fellow students is suffering from a malady, and he was able to go to the local hospital and use his EU health card, from my understanding, to recieve a checkup with minimal red tape and fees. I have seen plenty other salient examples of connection of the EU member countries, but all in all, it has been great to see first hand how the system works.

The French goverment itself is very dfferent as well. There is certainly a socialist undercurrent running through most everything. For example, the French government has instituted what is essentially a mandatory four-week period in which busineses must reduce prices of merchandise by a certain percentage, which needless to say is not a free-market oriented practice. The French government also dictates hours of business for many non-state owned businesses as well. It´s very awkward to comprehend the logic, but the people here don´t seem to have any negative attitude toward the practice.

Another interesting thing is, forgve the sweeping generalization, the French seem to place much less of an emphasis on work than people in the states. It is common practice to take two-hour lunch breaks and work much less than 8 hours a day even for salaried positions here. Further, because of the Catholic prevalency in southern France, Sundays are marked by barren streets and only a few scattered open places of business.

Of course, I´ve continued to indulge on the local French cuisine and deliacies. My new favorite dish is socca, a simple recipe of water, olive oil, and chickpea flower, with varying seasonings. Essentially, it´s a savory crepe, and It´s amazing. I´ve also been lucky enough to find a centuries-old chocolate shop just blocks from my residence that makes the most amazing treats I´ve ever had. Even the simple tempered dark chocolate hits the spot in the morning.

The highlight of the week in culinary adventures, however, was finding a restaurant on the port that served rose wine (the prevalent variety in southern France) and mussels (quite a few variations) in an all-you-can eat family style setting. A group of around fifteen of us students went and it had the feel of a Spanish wedding in the restaurant.

My travels have taken me around the south of France and eastern Italy as well. Although I have only taken day trips, the petite villages in the area are amazing sights for a midwesterner like myself. I´ve walked the seaside mountain-cutting path that Nietchze walked for inspiration and muse, I´ve returned to Monaco to revel in the amazingly posche life and culture, and traveled to St. Tropez to see what celebrities live like in the summer time. Italy, suprisingly, had a very distinct feel even in the border cities. The regional foods were different, and the culture seemed even more relaxed. Needless to say, the views everywhere have been amazing.

I have one week left in the south of France, and am excited to return to my comfort zone and begin my senior year, but of course sad to leave this beautiful place.

Thanks again to the Rudolph family for this amazing opportunity.
 

Most of my outside practice comes at the Nice Gold's Gym. The price tag was quite expensive, 105 € for the month, but it helps keep me in a bit of a routine. The owner and his wife are multi-lingual (to date I don't know exactly how many languages they speak, but it is quite a few), and are very helpful. What humors me though, is how much less an emphasis the French place on exericise in a gym setting, which of course explains the high fees to join a gym. When I ask my teachers and neighbors, they say the same thing: the French walk, and never run. Apparently they don't go to the gym either. Weighing in at a light 185 pounds, I'm the largest person in the gym, sans one man who is undoubtedly on steroids. Today, I actually broke an Olmpyic bar doing hang cleans, which has never happened to me or anyone I know before, and made me quite the popular person in the gym as you could imagine.

Moving along though, I've met an eclectic group of foreigners in my studies and travels so far. My closest friend here is in the private security sector, similar to companies such as Blackwater, but he works out of England. He is learning French to allow him access to French speaking African nations in his work. He has worked extensively in both Iraq and Afghanistan, and the insight into the private workings, as well as the American forces jobs, has been eye opening to say the least. Certainly a different perspective than I've heard yet, and much more informed than any Tom, Dick, or Harry on the American television.

We've traveled around quite a bit together in our first week, via his car. So far, we've been to Antibes, Cannes, Monte Carlo (Monaco), and quite a few more small towns on the French Riviera. The coastline here is beautiful, and can't be done justice in pictures, much less my poor point-and-shoot pictures. The local food also continues to grown on me. Nicoise specialties, such as the Nicoise salad, Moules, and the local gnocchi are all amazing.

Friday was certainly something I'd chalk up to the life experience category: my English friend and I cleaned up and drove his restored Lotus FX to the Casino at Monte Carlo. The town itself is amazing, as is the rest of Monaco, which is its own principality within the French Riviera. When we arrived, we drove through the city on the Formula 1 course, and eventually pulled up to the circle infront of the casino and were valeted into the parking spaces infront of the casino, along with vintage Rolls Royce's and a Mercialago. I've never felt more alien in my life, although it was certainly welcomed. The casino is amazing, and so was the 6€ Perrier I was drinking. All in all, the evening certainly hurt my wallet, but was well worth it. Thankfully, I lost much more money to my drink bill than to the casino itself.

The highlight of the week, however, was standing on the curb, no fence, no barrier, as the tour de Lance (or France, if you wish) came through Nice. I went out three hours early, and to my suprise, was the only one on the curb on the chateau point, probably the most beautiful view of the city, the coastline, and the mediterranean. While waiting the three hours or so, hundreds of sponsored cars came through the course throwing out all kinds of free goodies, which made the whole day quite an event for me. Then finally, the riders came through, and I was literally arms length from Lance Armstrong and the rest of the riders as they cornered the curb I was standing on. I could've fallen of the curb and literally wrecked half of the riders. It was simply unbelievable, an experience I'll never forget.

Michael Vick '10 - At this moment, I feel as if I could write a dissertation based solely on last weekend's experiences in Berlin. Many were morose and awe-inspiring: walking over the former location of SS headquarters, where the “Final Solution to the Jewish Problem” was designed and political dissidents were tortured; standing before the graveyard holding the remains of 2,500 Soviet soldiers who died taking Berlin and finally destroying the Nazi Wehrmacht; gazing upon a picture of the faces of East German protestors who were killed by Soviet tank rounds shortly after the picture was taken — all of these sent a cold chill through me.

The city is full of history, and knowing some of that history only made the things I felt as I walked around it even more powerful.

The most potent experiences I had in Berlin are associated with the “Field of Stelae,” a plaza of rectangular column-gravestones that serves as a memorial for the murdered Jews of Europe. The square is not flat, but forms a bowl shape so that the “graves” tower over anyone standing in the center. From the street, those walking deeper into the memorial seem to be consumed by the dark stones. The layout of the columns into narrow rows and columns means that even if you are able to hear someone nearby, you still won't see them until you both round a corner and bump into each other; if you stand in the middle and look up the sloping ground towards the exit, you catch a only momentary glimpse of people walking down the perpendicular columns before they disappear. At the lowest point, the sense of despair and isolation envelopes you, and it feels like that graves are about to smash together and entomb.

The experience didn't end when I walked back onto the street, either; while sitting outside a small pizza- and döner-shop across from the memorial, my head was filled with thoughts that I can't even begin to convey yet.

Other experiences, however, were more jubilant.

When the sunlight broke through the clouds and caused a cross of light to form on the silver sphere of the TV tower—a symbol of East German achievement constructed after the much smaller golden cross atop the Berlin cathedral was removed—I couldn't help but laugh. I met a German couple on Friday afternoon, and we ended up having dinner and talking about life in East Berlin. It was interesting hearing the perspective of “everyday” East Berliners who experienced first-hand the drawbacks and advantages of reunification.

Of course, it only made sense to visit the DDR Museum following this conversation, where I got an even-more detailed glimpse into life of the life of the average East German. Although some aspects of the museum were humorous and light-hearted — one could sit in a Trabi, the standard car available to East Germans, or one could rock out to music from popular East German bands — the exhibits detailing the history of the Wall and standard practices of the Stasi recalled the more sinister facets of life in the East.

The museum helped flesh out some of the pros and cons that we discussed in German class last semester, yet it, like many things here, leaves me with the task of assembling the details into a coherent lesson that I can use later in life.

Once I arrived in Nice though, my trip has gone rather smoothly, with a few exceptions. I arrived in the late afternoon, which is early morning back home, but I felt compelled to explore after taking the taxi through the town center. My first day was spent exploring solo, of course. The first thing that caught my eye was an enormous statue nestled into a peak on the coast, that I later learned is a memorial for the ''sons of Nice'' killed in the world wars.

I continued to wander around, admiring the architecture in general and dodging in and out of old stone pathways that caught my eye. The city has a beautiful mix of modern architecture and medieval restoration that gives it a good sense of character. I'm sure it will keep unfolding the more I explore, and within the next two weeks we have a few scheduled trips with the school as well.

That said, I think I've finally gotten as settled in as I believe I will here in Nice, France. I'm living in a student residence for local and international students, and taking classes during the day at the Alliance Francaise de Nice. As I said before, the town is quite charming; it's situated on the southeastern corner of France on the mediterranean, and it is very close to the Italian border. The residence is located right on the port, and is a few blocks from the beach and in the center of vieux-Nice, or historic Nice.

With my first day as the exception, I haven't been trekking around as much as I would like. Dealing with the hassle of blown power converters and a malfunctioning computer have left me with other priorities, not to mention attempting to break through the language barrier and keep up on my class work. However, I can say that the residents have been more than welcoming and exteremely helpful up until now.

However, most people I've met to date speak English very well, which is of course a blessing for a complete beginner. It also opens a window for me to learn more about France and French culture without having a functioning knowledge of the language. Talking to fellow students and teachers about the real workings of the EU has been informative, as well as conversations with those students from Bellorussia and East Asia. It also makes for an interesting collage of languages spoken within the classroom, which can become hectic when there is any confusion in the lesson.

Of course, I'd be doing a disservice to you all if I didn't say it: the food has been amazing, even the cheap eats. Eating seafood pizza and drinking great (and affordable) wine on the cote D'azur is something I won't soon forget. Also, I'm planning on going to Monte Carlo and Monaco this weekend with my neighbor from the U.K., as he brought his car down for the trip. His car also happens to be a Lotus, which should make for an experience in itself for a midwesterner like me.

Hopefully I'll know enough survival French to make my way around without any English by this weekend (although I find it amazing how quickly you pick up things when you're left with no other options).

In photos: Top left, the memorial Alex wrote about. Lower right, the street on which he lives.

Michael Vick '10

I also spent a lot of time alone exploring Goettingen and its museums. While walking around the city atop the Wall, or hill-rampart erected to defend Goettingen in the early Middle Ages, I sat beneath the boughs of a tree planted before the founding of the United States. Although the trunk is splitting under the weight of its branches, it has nevertheless stood through the trials of time, weather, and war, and it will likely remain for my grandchildren to relax under if they visit this city.

The sense of insignificance I felt while sitting there was only magnified by the hum of activity as more than 200,000 people packed into the inner city to participate in the Mission: Olympic sports festival. Yet I wouldn't describe this as a bad feeling; it helped me to continue putting these experiences into perspective, and I almost felt carefree as I sat there.

Even though rain kept me inside throughout most of the following week, I was able to go for walks up the mountains to the east of the city. Paths snake through the forested hills: some follow the ridges and valleys made by streams coming down the mountains, some meander through the forest with no apparent destination, and still others take one to monuments and man-made sights scattered across the mountain.

The Bismarckturm (Bismarck Tower), despite requiring three attempts to find, provides an excellent view of the entire valley in which Goettingen lies, while the Eulenturm overlooks a small, ivy-covered clearing near the base of the mountain. Plenty remains for me to explore in the following weeks, though. I have only visited one of the eight large churches in the city, and I have not even ventured into the old Rathaus or to Georg-August University north of the city center.

Although it was nice to explore my surroundings, the real adventure in the past week, and the break from the first week, has been exploring the nearby city of Kassel-Bad-Wilhelmshoehe. On Saturday I ran into two other students on the street outside the train station, and we went together to the Orangerie. This building, formerly a summer palace and now the home of a natural sciences museum, lies in a beautiful English garden along the Fulda River.

But even more impressive was Bergpark Wilhelmshoehe, which I visited on Sunday. Words can hardly describe the plethora of sights there — it is the largest hillside park in Europe and took about 150 years to complete all of the buildings and gardens. Had my camera battery not died, I would've spent much longer than a mere four hours exploring the shrines, mock-ruins, and artwork scattered over the estate.

Whether wandering through the museum in palace Wilhelmshoehe, hiking up to the statue Herkules atop the mountain, or touring the “ruins” of the Roman Aquädukt and castle Loewenburg, there is an interesting mix of history and beauty nestled on the forested mountainside.

(As a fun little side note: the aqueduct and castle were purposely built to appear as ruins, as this made the refined nature of the palace even more impressive to visitors.) Although the statue lies only about four kilometers away from the train station, the park covers a mountainside that slopes up away from the city, and so it takes quite a while to climb. However, the view from the top — Wilhelmshoehe lying at the base of the mountain with Kassel stretching out behind it, and Loewenburg peeking from the trees to the southeast — is simply awesome. However, I'm switching gears from the baroque and Enlightenment eras as I prepare to travel to Berlin this Friday, where I'll visit a number of museums detailing German history and life in the 20th century.

Bis später!

In Photos: Top Right, a view from the tower. At left, Michael Vick at Kassel. Next, "The view from the base of Herkules is amazing; it provides the best view of Kassel and the park, and it certainly provides a sense of accomplishment when you see just how far you've traveled to reach that point.," Michael writes. Bottom left: "Loewenburg (Lion's Castle) was constructed as a Medieval-style castle ruin, though it still possessed a chapel, kitchen, living quarters, and a garden behind it. Though it's primary purpose was to impress visitors at Wilhelmshoehe, it could also function as a retreat point in the case of attack."

Michael Vick '10

From the uncertainty I felt when I stepped out of the airport and onto the busy sidewalk of Frankfurt, to the joy of hearing the German language all around me and learning the history of Goettingen, the past few days have been left me with a head full of thoughts and hardly any time to consider them.

Now that I think back to conversations with Wabash students who spent time studying abroad, I realize that I can't remember a single one talking about how interesting his classes were. Although I can't complain about the classroom instruction here, I am finding, as others no doubt did, that the experiences that have been most amazing thus far have come outside of class. Whether through conversations with other students, some of whom I must speak with in German since we share no other common language, or while hearing about the city while being showed around by the student workers,

I have encountered cultures and individuals that I never even thought about at home. For example, on the first day of class, I got to know a Libyan doctor who is improving her language skills at the Goethe Institute so that she can work in Germany; a Japanese student, who has been preparing for a test that will allow him to study at a German university, has struck up a conversation with almost every time we've seen each other.

Yesterday, during a break in the middle of class, the students shared stories of life in their homelands, their experiences here and elsewhere in Europe, and their hopes for the future. Perhaps the atmosphere here encourages not only conversation to improve one's ability to speak German, but the sharing of life stories, too.

Although I miss home, I hope that the next seven weeks don't pass too fast. I've walked around Goettingen a little bit each day, but tomorrow will be devoted to visiting the history museum and churches in the city, and if time permits, exploring the monuments scattered through the pedestrian zones and city gardens. This is assuming that I can get around the city, as tomorrow marks the beginning of Mission Olympic, where residents will try to prove that Goettingen is the most sports-oriented city in Germany by participating in a myriad of athletic events ranging from bicycle races to bed jumping.

The Institute offers a day trip to Eisenach, the home city of Bach and place where Martin Luther translated the New Testament into German; my class will also travel to Goslar, a city whose buildings survived World War II intact and that offers a glimpse of authentic medieval German life. I also plan to visit Paris and Normandy, Berlin, Weimar, and Braunschweig before I have to return home. But for now, it's time to take another walk around the city and try to digest the experiences of the past few days.

Auf Wiedersehen!

In photos: Top right, This is a glimpse of the front of the "old house" of the Goethe Institute, so named because it occupies the former residence of a textile magnate who sold the estate to the city after the depression in the early 1930s. Most students attend classes in the rooms opening into the Great Hall on the first and second floors, and some students live in the remaining rooms on the second and third floors and in the lower levels of the tower.
 

Lower Left: Behind the Althaus lies a garden, volleyball court, and shaded pavilions where students can grill out and relax after class.

As I immerse myself with readings, short essays, syllabi, dropping and adding classes, meeting new professors, and meeting all the new freshmen, it's easy to forget that just one month ago, I was in another country. I was on another CONTINENT, actually. It seems so long ago now, since I've been devoting my time to all things Wabash, but for 2 months this summer, I was living, taking classes, speaking, and even dreaming in another language, amongst people with a very different outlook on life. My only regret is that, since I've been back, everyone's been asking, "How was Spain?" And although I would love to explain all the relationships I had (with people from all over the world) and the culture and what it's like to interact as a foreigner, etc., the people who ask are usually looking for a small-talk conversation. I can't blame them... for me to give any sort of pseudo-accurate description of my trip would take 2 more months of talking. But hopefully this blog can do some justice to explaining what this trip meant to me. I know I’ll be going back in the future to re-read my entries, but that’s easy because I lived through all of this. But I also pray someone else can read what I’ve written here and relate to something that happened to me… traveling to an unknown city alone, staying in a hostel, eating incredibly strange food… anything! Because even though I didn’t enjoy everything I experienced, I’m glad I had this chance.

As this will be my final post, let me say this one final time: Thank you, Rudolph family. I can’t possibly explain in a few hundred words here what your generosity has ultimately given me. Living abroad, even for a short time, has changed me in some small way. It’s made me more introspective and more tolerant of others’ ideas and cultures. It’s given me a fresh perspective on education, and especially on Wabash. And it’s made me much more aware of the rest of the world.

Even though I never had the chance to know your son, Ken, I want you to know that in the wake of the tragedy that led to his passing, you have helped 3 Wabash men so far fulfill a dream and gain a new outlook on life. I can’t say how much I appreciate what you’ve done for me, and I know I’m speaking for Brent and Ryan, too. So in closing, thank you again, and I  pray you’ll continue offering this amazing scholarship so that future generations of Wabash Men might have the same opportunities I have had.

Grant Forrester Gussman

As you know I left for Paris by train on Thursday night. The train is something that all people should experience and preferably from first class. I took tourist class since I am a poor college student and it wasn’t bad except for I was on the top bunk and sat up into the ceiling three times. I know you’d think I learn after the first try but I can’t help that I have strange sleeping habits. The other problem was with who I was in a cabin with. It was me and two high school kids from Romania that were very fidgety and couldn’t keep their hands to themselves. I almost want to use my mothers favorite line and tell them to fold their hands and put them in their laps (mom is a kindergarten teacher).

After I arrived in Paris I wnt to the train station and checked my luggage in a locker. The sign said that it was 5€ for 10 hours and 8€ for 24 hours. I found out when I picked up my bags that that meant per bag. Paris is not a cheap city. They even charge you to use the public bathrooms in the train station. I however managed to see the city for 8€, not including the checked luggage fee. After I put my bags up I got on the metro and went to see the Eiffel Tower. It was just like Guernica much better in person. Right near the tower there is a military building that struck my eye because it had a cavalry building and looked a lot more like the town halls in Spain than a military building. The tower was also near a third building. It caught my eye because the roof is gold and beautifully sculpted and it is also surrounded by some beautiful gardens. The building was the Charles de Gaulle history museum.

Next I went to see the Arc de Triomphe. It was not something that I had to see but it was interesting. It was also Kind of a pain because you had to walk under the street to get to the center of the roundabout where the arc is and to get down and then back up the police had to search you. I’m still not sure what for. If I didn’t know any better I would have said it was built by the Romans. I learned it was based off of an arch built by the Romans but I didn’t realize the similarity until I was standing right under it.

My final stop before going back to the train station was church. I went to watch noon mass at Notre Dame (and no I don’t mean that school in South Bend, Indiana). It was amazing. Had I been half an hour earlier I could have heard the international service but instead I heard the French service. I didn’t understand it but it was still a good experience. At first I thought that the church was small but once I left to walk around it I saw how big it really is. Though I didn’t have a lot of time to see Paris I think that I saw a lot. For 8€ I saw some of the most important spots in Paris in 4 hours. After that I boarded a train to Germany to meet up with another Wabash student who is one of my fraternity brothers that is currently studying abroad, Ian scales.

(Germany trip follows)

Later that night we went to an old industrial park that has been converted into a club area that resembles the boardwalk at Disney. There were many themes for the bars including an extraterrestrial bar, a communist bar complete with a statue of Lennon and an American bar with rock playing constantly. We however went to a bar in the back section that played a mix of house techno and rock. This was a great club and the walls were covered with video screens. The best part though was the beer that actually tasted like beer instead of water like the majority of what you are served in the states.

The next morning we went on a tour of the city. First we saw the Glockenspiel, the clock and green area on the tall tower in the picture below, and then we ate lunch at the Hofbräuhaus. Originally when we were done with that we were going to go up and hike in the Alps but we decided that with the weather threatening rain we mind as well just stay in the city. We climbed the tower of a church that I believe was the church of saint peter in English. Form the bell tower you could see the entirety of Munich for only 2€. It was actually about 1 o’clock when we reached the top and we could see the bells ringing as we walked by. The worst part about the bell was not the noise, which was loud, but the fact that the ringing bells moved the tower with them as they rang. Being a little skittish with heights I was not enjoying that part of the visit. Finally the bells stopped and I was able to enjoy the view.

Next I went to the English Garden and to see the Isar or Ice creek in German, as it was translated for me. There as the river dumps into the stream that has been carved through the park, there are small rapids. On these rapids people from Munich actually surf! I have pictures but if you have the time check it out on You Tube, just type in surf Munich. I’m pretty sure that in the video I watched it was the same guy I saw. It is of course suggested that the surfers not do this because of the risk but they do it anyway. Ian’s friend told me that a person died a few years back. I as a lifeguard of 6 years was on high alert and at one point thought I would have to jump in because it looked like one guy smashed his face on the side of the canal, which is made of concrete. After watching this for a while we sat in the garden which is a spot frequented by nude sunbathers, apparently mostly older men. Thankfully it was a cold day and we were spared the emotional scarring from such an experience. We did however sit in the Biergarten for the rest of the day and enjoy good food and beer as well as some brass band music from a pagoda in the park. When we left Ian's friend went home and Ian and I went back to our tent. He left the next day and I toured the old Olympic park. It was green and beautiful. I also did some laundry since I was down to my last pair of clean clothes. I’m going to tour London tomorrow and then I have to begin to face the unsettling fact that I and bound for the US on Wednesday. I will enjoy being home but I will miss Europe and will look forward to my next trip.

Thanks as always for reading and I will post tomorrow about my time in London.

After settling in, we decided to take a walk and get something to drink or to eat. We ended up having tapas and drinks for dinner while we discussed our experiences and just enjoyed the company of a friend in a foreign country. I had been without any of my friends from Granada for almost 4 days and he had not had many close friends in Salamanca the last semester because all his friends had left after the first month. Among some of the things that we discovered was that long pants and shoes were a common staple among the older generations in both cities but much more of a common dress in Salamanca than in Granada. We also noted that the old men always put their hands behind their backs when they walk unless they had a cane. One other interesting discussion we had was about tapas. In Granada when you buy a drink the drink comes with free tapas. It is not always a lot, sometimes a piece of bread with ham on it, but other times they are big enough to make a meal out of. There was one bar where a beer was 1.85€ and with it you could get a full slice of pizza. It was no NY style slice but it was big. They also had hamburgers, tortilla, empanadas, french-fries and of course ham.

On Saturday, we switched to a cheaper hostel and then went across town to the Prado to see Guernica, a famous painting by Picasso, because I really wanted to see it. Grant was a good sport and went with even though he isn’t a huge art fan. I had unfortunately been misinformed as to the location of the painting which was actually at another museum just 10 minutes from our hostel. We decided to go in anyway because we got a 50% discount for being foreign students. The Prado while beautiful was not as much fun as I had expected. The museum is mostly Renaissance art with some Greek sculpture thrown in. after the first floor we began to see the same subject by different artists over and over again. Don’t get me wrong, they were beautiful, but it got repetitive. After about two hours we left.

That evening we also upgraded our duo of Wallys in Madrid to a trio with the addition of an alumnus, Chris Haskell. He has been traveling Europe for the last few weeks and decided to meet us for our stay. After taking him to the hostel, we went to explore the neighborhood where our hostel was. It was not the best part of town, but it was safe, and we came across a street fair. There we discovered a food that puts fair food in the US to shame, salchipapas. For those that understand Spanish you probably have an idea of what this is already but for those who don’t, I will break it down. Salchichas are sausages or hot dogs depending on the store and the context. Papas Fritas are French-fries. Put the two together and you get salchipapas. They are served in what resembles a 32oz cup and to eat them you use skewers. The fries go in first and then a layer of sliced and fried hotdogs goes on top. Then you can add ketchup and/or mayonnaise. I opted not to ruin the flavor. While it is good it is not something that you would eat every day, like all fair food.

Sunday we hung out with some people we met form the hostel until grant had to leave. We said oodbye and then he left for the airport. We watched movies at the hostel and drank beer and sangria with a group of people there until bed around 1am. I went to bed early because the next day Chris and I were leaving for Barcelona, or so we thought…

(to cut down on space and loading problems the rest of this post follows in Stranded)

After the museum we went to get food at a grocery store near by and then cooked a large meal. I made a soup that my host mother had made for me with pasta, peas and garbanzo beans. We also made sandwiches to go with them. That evening we repeated the events of the previous night and went to bed early, but first I booked bus tickets for 2 the next afternoon. Upon arriving at the station we learned that we were at the wrong station and were told by the bus company to go to the right station where they could help us. When we arrived at the right station we had missed the bus by 30 minutes. When we went to get help they told us that they could do nothing because we had missed our bus and the reservation was lost. They then told me that I could have gotten tickets on a later bus at the first station with no problem. I was not happy to say the least.

We went back to our hostel to try and figure out what to do. On the way back as I was carrying my luggage up the stairs of the metro station a nice Spanish man tried to help me. I was fine though and told him I didn’t need help and he began to walk away. At that moment a woman on the stairs behind me whispered in my ear, “su cartera.” Cartera in English is a wallet and my hand went immediately to my pocket and sure enough it was gone. I yelled at the man now only about 10 steps away and he slowly turned to look at me. I wanted to tell him in Spanish to give me my wallet but in that moment of panic and anger I forgot all of my Spanish and only managed in English to say “my wallet,” and gesture with my hands. It may have been the fact that I felt like I had been robbed enough by the bus company for one day and I looked pissed, it may have been Chris standing nearby with a similar disposition, or it may have been the woman who told me and her husband standing there looking the whole time. I personally believe it was a combination of these things and the fact that just across the street stood a group of 4 police officers and two more were sitting in their cars nearby. I have finally had a European experience, or so I’m told. After a day like that I didn’t have the patience or the funds to go to Barcelona and I decided to stay in Madrid until leaving Thursday for Germany. Chris, who was going to see two friends he knew there, couldn’t get in touch with them and decided to head to Paris on a night train the next night. While I am a little upset that I will not be able to see the Sagrada Familia and the beautiful beaches of Barcelona, I am happy to be traveling on a mini vacation and suggest to any of you who have the time interest and money to plan a European vacation soon.

Well that is where I leave you for now. I apologize for the length and for not posting for a while but as you can see it has been a busy week. I will write again when I reach London to tell you about my day in Paris and my weekend in Germany. As always thank you for reading and I will write soon.

In the midst of these thoughts, I am happy to say that I will be finishing my stay in España on a high note. Brent Graham (my co-blogger) and I will be meeting in Salamanca this Thursday, staying a night here, and then touring Madrid together this weekend. I suppose we´ll have to flip a coin to see who gets to blog about the trip... Or maybe we´ll co-write something? At any rate, I´m really looking forward to seeing the capital, and it´ll be more fun with a travelling partner. 

But until this weekend comes, I thought it might be better to use a few pictures to show everyone who reads this exactly what I´m going to miss...

In the summer, it nearly never rains, and it´s rarely overcast. Every single day is blue-skied, sunny, and warm. Everywhere you walk around here, it´s nothing but castle-like buildings.

Salamanca is ancient, and its Roman heritage is evident in countless examples of architecture. This is the wall that borders the southern part of the city, a defense mechanism from centuries ago. Below it is the crest of Salamanca, made out of flowers.

When I need to use a computer in Crawfordsville, I bury myself in the dungeon we call the armory. This picture was taken from window of the internet cafe I frequent, overlooking the Plaza Mayor. Even after 2 months in Spain, it´s hard not to think the Plaza looks amazing when the lights come on every night and the entire square fills with people.

Hopefully these pictures have helped show exactly what I mean when I say I´ll miss this place. This has been an amazing experience. I know it´s almost time to give Spain back to its owners, but I´m going to spend every minute of this last week enjoying what time I have left. I love America, but there´s something special about living in another country for this long, and I don´t intend to waste any of my remaining time. 

Hasta luego