no words

Prague has already grown on me so much, I believe it is one of my top two favorite cities I have ever been in. Let me just begin by saying- the colors here are captivating, like nothing else I have words for. From the long stretch of buildings, rising and falling throughout the hills, that we saw from high atop the church cathedral, to the cobblestone streets, and the shops full of treasures, crystal, puppets, the shades of colors are magical and ethereal. Even the hostel we are staying at (which by the way, is amazing), the Clown and Bard hostel, has the most unique hallways of purples and pinks, neon dayglow orange couches, pink striped curtains on yellow windows, blue walls... if Munich stimulated my sense of smell, Prague does the same, except ten times over, for my overwhelmed eyes, hungry to take it all in and remember it always.

The city definitely welcomed us with fervor. We got here fairly late in the day, having caught a later train from Munich, and after the long trek uphill to our hostel and having some Czech pizza (Italian style, with egg on top) and pasta at a cute cafe, we got settled into our temporary home, meeting our flatmates, 3 guys from Canada. We knew we would get along with them right away when we got to the room, even before meeting them, seeing the tattoo ointment on the table. The hostel situation is much better here- bunking with 4 others instead of 50, like in Munich, with our own kitchen and shower to share. Kellen and I went downstairs to the super adorable bar to have a couple of drinks and met two guys from Chicago that were really nice, Raul and Pauly, and we made friends with them quickly. They were old college buddies on the tail end of a bout of Europe traveling, about to head home. Apparently, they need to have a WARNING sign attached to their heads if you want to drink with them! Paul has the tolerance of no one I've ever seen, and I guess we were feeling a little confident about our own, after Germany, Kellen especially. Amongst all the chatting and laughing, Kellen didn't realize she was subconsciously trying to keep up with them (they were drinking much faster and more than we were)....and when they tell you the beer is stronger everywhere in Europe, they don't lie. Although we were only having Budweiser, Prague's version of it is akin to something much stronger than what we're used to, maybe more like a light version of Zeigen, I don't know....and after a few glasses, and the lack of food we had all day (stuck on trains for 6 hours) until dinner, I think it caught up with her. However, the icing on the cake was the shot of absinthe we took for my pre-birthday celebration, which we did the almost completely traditional way, lighting the sugar on fire and all. Let me just say- that stuff is ridiculously potent (I know, you're probably like "duh, Christina...it's absinthe" but I guess we weren't ready for it). We were all quiet for a couple of minutes afterwards, I think because our mouths were a little numb (70 proof liquor will do that to you)....and I think right away Kellen realized she made a mistake, she looked a little shaken up. She was almost instantly out of it- absinthe seems to make you go from buzzed to drunk in .7 seconds- and needless to say, it didn't stay in her for long...I ended up holding her hair back that night, and scratching her back until she fell asleep afterwards. It was one of those times you end up drunk without really meaning to, getting caught up in the moment and not pacing yourself- happens to the best of us. She was in good hands though- Paul is about to graduate from medical school, and our roommates looked after her too. Anyway, no more absinthe for her, and as for me...I did ok, I guess it's my German and Irish roots holding strong, but we'll see how my tolerance is the next couple of nights for my birthday celebrations, Kellen is convinced she'll be returning the favor and holding my hair back, although in the years since I started drinking, I have only thrown up from alcohol 3 times. Don't worry- we'll be safe, at least the hostel has a bar so all we have to do is walk upstairs to our room (5 flights will be interesting after a night of debauchery, I'm still not sure how Kellen made them the first night.)

We met up with Raul and Paul yesterday morning again and together we all explored the glorious sights of Prague....gorgeous cathedrals, churches, domes, and old buildings everywhere, no matter where you look, there is something else to see and revel in. We got lost in the winding streets, both literally and figuratively (but getting lost in Prague is not something you mind in the least, you find so many pleasures and surprises you wouldn't otherwise)..among hidden stairways and alleyways and the Charles bridge, watching a quirky little group of musicians, one of them wielding and playing a washboard- extremely well, might i say- cellos, clarinets, etc. People gathered round to cheer them on and toss korunas (czech "crowns") in their open guitar case. After walking around for hours, from one end of Prague to another, it came to my attention what I love most about Europe...it is so ancient, with lingering pieces of the past in each and every nook and cranny. America is so fresh faced like a child, and modern, but the cities here are so proud of their history, and hold on to it- you see it in the miles of spectacular old buildings, the structures that have been here since the 1200s and seen thing that no one could possibly imagine...everything gives off these vibes of wisdom, each inch of the dark stone and brick, and somehow it all remains so preserved. We fell head over heels for this city the second we stepped foot in it. There is no true wrong turn here...no matter where you end up, there is something new to discover.
We had a fantastic Czech lunch, Kellen got goulash, and we had a round of really great dark beer that tasted like Newcastle, only richer and better. We finally got gelato for the first time, which was out of this world...but Kellen says it's nothing compared to the gelato in Italy, and according to everyone I know who has been there, you practically live off of it there (mmmm, a diet of wine, gelato, and cheese). We stumbled upon something pretty unexpected (such a lovely mistake) while we were on our way to see the biggest and most beautifully elaborate cathedral in Prague (I have never seen architecture like that in my life, ever....it makes you feel like someone has punched you in the stomach, it takes your breath away so fast). It was this really long procession of priests, monks, and men in white robes and hats, carrying candles and waving the sacred incense- the smell of which will stay with me forever...it raised goosebumps on my skin, and the four of us stood there transfixed as hundreds of people following these men joined in their strange, otherworldly chanting. Although we can't speak the slightest bit of Czech, not even thank you, there are some sounds in this world that can move all humans alike, no matter the language- you don't have to understand the actual words to understand, to feel the meaning behind it, and sense the holiness. It was something I have no way of describing- funny how many times I have written that about Europe, it seems to be normal to experience the unspeakable around these parts, and I have no complaints. There are bounties to discover here that I haven't quite found in other cities, although some have come very close, and touched me in different ways (I still can't get the mountains from Austria out of my mind.)

We are still not adjusted to the bars and clubs that stay open until 5 in the morning, and I think I sweated out enough water to fill buckets last night, dancing into the wee hours of the morning to hilarious 90s songs, some of which I cringe to remember...Daft punk, yessssssss. We met some truly amazing people yesterday and last night, a lot of Canadian girls and boys that joined us for drinking games and then walking through the late night streets of Prague to a big, hidden night club with a stage with room for lots of gyrating-room....the people here are nonstop, when we left after 330, the club was still full to the brim. This is definitely a city for sharing everything, not only good times...where you get different beers ad dishes so you can try someone else's food, where you look with wide, amazed eyes at everything surrounding you, at the gurgling river beneath the historical bridge, at the red rooftops-together, where you walk as a large, laughing group under the streetlights, forming bonds with people that are practically strangers but you feel as though you've known forever. This is the type of place I want everyone I have ever known and loved to see and experience, and I wish I could take the entire city, and what I have learned and experienced already, after only two nights (two spectacular nights) of being here, home with me. There is so much to explore, and not only in the city- but in the parts of yourself the city brings to the surface from the depths of your spirit.

My birthday is tomorrow (tonight at midnight, yall! yes, I had to say it, I do miss Texas)...pray for me a little, haha...it's going to be a wild ride.

meet me in Munich (bring an umbrella)

The sights I see throughout the rest of my trip will have a hard time comparing to the thick clouds hanging over the Alps in Bavaria, seen from hundreds of feet in the clear, clean air from the cliffside castle. They towered over the stunning town of Salzburg, with its steeples and bauble buildings and cathedrals and clock towers, gardens and cozy alleyways and storefronts. I felt as though I couldn't look at them long enough, and like my body was nearing the point of collapse, their affect and sublimity were so staggering & overpowering.

In those moments of basking in their glory and feeling my heart tighten (my soul brighten) everything we struggled through yesterday morning was more than worth it.


We had to get up at 6 to drive to Minden, but neither me or Kellen slept more than 2 hours. As Verena drove us there, there was a fine, still mist hanging over the cold German countryside, you could literally feel your lungs aching for more of the consummate fresh air.

It started by missing our second train, and having to catch one an hour later...which put us behind schedule with meeting Kellen's best friend and her best friend's girlfriend. When we got to the station at Munich, we got off on the wrong one- apparently there are two stations, and we were supposed to wait to get off until the central...whcih we didn't realize until after wandering around and seeing the lack of a Starbucks (our meeting place) and a "huge Coca Cola sign" (a marker). We called the hostel to get directions and found information in the station and they told us to get back on the train and get off on the other Munich stop....so we did, and then had trouble following the vague directions the hostel gave us...well, they weren't too vague, we were a little turned around. (psssh...women) When we finally found the hostel, which was actually less than a block from the station, we tried the wrong entrance first, and then after going into the right door into the lobby, and getting Jessica's room number, we went up the wrong stairs to another wrong door (locked) and had to make our way back. We eventually found where we needed to go, by this time, ready for one of Munich's famous hefeweizens (beirgardens, ver bist du?)....and this is when Jessica walked out of her room at the exact moment Kellen walked up to it, and they literally fell into each others arms with relief and happiness. It was one of those moments you wished you had captured on film, but wouldn't have been done any justice through photographs/video anyway. Kellen referred to Jessica as her soulmate, and after spending the time with them together that I have been the past couple of days, I can see what she means. I know what it feels like to have such an indescribable bond with a best friend, her and Jess remind me of myself and someone...but unfortunately, not all such connections remain as unshakable as you think them to be.

We hopped on a train to Austria (Salzburg) as soon as we dropped our stuff in their room, which they were so kind to share for the night. Hey- when you're on a budget, you don't mind sharing a bed with 3 other girls (we didn't have to pay anything last night, thanks to them)...spooning, anyone?

We saw some gardens in Salzburg that were really beautiful...even with all the flowers not in full bloom. The city itself is one of those that you don't hear about often, it's tucked away into the corner of the world and gets overlooked- but it is such a hidden jewel, and I felt so lucky to be able to experience it. Not everyone gets to see such spectacular sights in their lifetime, and truly appreciate the diverse virtues of this earth. I took some amazing pictures that I will be putting up soon, but the one here gives you an idea of how gorgeous this city is. After roaming the gardens and a little Austrian market to get snacks, we walked through the streets of the downtown district, which was really quaint and close together.. (cozy Europeans) apparently the city is where classical music was "born," because it was where Mozart was born and lived. It has some sweet music shops and a cute seafood place we found- as for dessert, the signature chocolate there is strange, and has something that looks like pistachio in the center- but after the intital weirdness we decided it was delicious. After seeing a trolley looking cart moving up some tracks towards the fortress we had seen in the hills above the city, we investigated and found out we could ride it "for a small fee" (you hear that a lot here) and go up to the castle, where the best views in the city were.

And indeed, the views of the city were breathtaking, at the very least- you get a true sense of it that you can't get from just walking around, strolling its streets. BUT, the true engulfing sight were the mountains. Nothing I could possibly say could describe what they look like from that altitude, so close, you could reach out and caress their jagged angles and gentle quilt-covering of clouds. Being so near them, and experiencing the tranquility and longing that fills me, makes me wonder how I have lived so many years of my life nowhere near them.

We rode the train home tired and satisfied, reliving our elementary school days when we lived for those gym field day activities- the parachutes, flat board scooters, gigantic balls... to be a kid again, I would give almost anything sometimes. Those were some of the best days of our lives, but you never know it until you get older and remember how new everything was, how colorful, how creative you were, unspoiled meat with no preservatives (until a certain point). One of my favorite things about this journey so far has been how much it makes me feel like a little girl again, regardless of how much I have grown. I am seeing everything from freshly opened eyes, quiet with awe, and inquisitive, wanting to know and see as much as I possibly can. It was Jessica and Candace's last night in Germany, so we went out to celebrate- sans Candace, who had an early train to catch. Surprisingly, the place we found most alive with young students our age was the bar in our hostel...but we ventured out anyway and found an interesting place that I wont go into much detail about- let's just say the beers were overpriced, and the atmosphere very...different. We had fun regardless, and munched on falafel sandwiches. {They were out of this world, but not the best idea...after rigorous brushing, our bed still reeked of onions-strong enough to make your eyes water even from the depths of someone's stomach.}Kellen and Jessica's muted giggling and whispering brought back more familiar memories, and it was so refreshing to see that friendships like that still exist, and be reminded that the "sister" i once had wasn't a figment of my imagination. We fell asleep a few stories above the still-noisy (at 330 am) streets of Munich, windows open to let the night crawl inside.

Free breakfast this morning- Europeans sure have the toast and jam with tea thing down. We strolled the streets of the city- which has been pretty chilly and drizzly-and saw the clock tower Munich is famous for, (the architecture here is mind boggling, the clock tower being on the top of the list). The streets are vibrant with flags, shops, and brilliant odd shaped lights and fountains....but my favorite thing is how they smell of sweet, just out of the oven bread, no matter what part of Munich you are in. The street markets are full of fresh veggies and fruit, and we grabbed a bag of rich, bright red cherries, which were the best I've ever had, by far. We went to this amazing "cellar" restaurant underneath it that stretched on forever that Jessica had been to before to have some "real" German beer- which, after drinking, puts all other beer to shame (might come back a little spoiled). PS, if anyone ever visits this city, go to this place- Ratskellar- it has the most divine potato soup you'll ever taste.

Today was extremely intense for me and Kellen. After we said bye to Jess, we took a train to Dachau, which was the first concentration camp, the one used to model all other camps built afterwards....it's been turned into a memorial/museum, and is bursting at the seams with history and melacholy tributes to the prisoners that suffered there. The things I saw, the memories not belonging to me- they hit very deep, carving themselves into my mind. I will write more specifically about this next time I blog- I wrote down much more in my journal- but my computer is losing power- soooo, to be continued!

If we weren't so strapped for cash, we would have been boarding an overnight train to Budapest on a whim tonight...we both desperately wanted to go(mmmm, temples and hot springs), but not for the price we would have had to pay. Tomorrow bright and early we board a train (I'm growing to love the trains and stations) to Prague.

All the belongings in my possession are locked in a locker, my veins are tingling, I'm making minature homes wherever I go, and then giving them up to pursue truth elsewhere. It's only 3 over yonder, hope the sun is warming American soils, I love you all so much!

say nein to sleeping

Today (or yesterday, I should say, its nearing 3 here) was one of the most moving, impacting day of my life. I literally felt my life take a curve, a bend in the road- but it was a graceful turn, one taken naturally, as though on a German bicycle being guided by the wind and picture perfect (literally) clouds, following the path's gentle, but meaningful, turn in the road.

It did not slip my attention- the significance of the rain stopping today, our last day here, the day I was going to (and did) spread my Nanas ashes. The wind farms took on new meaning (wheel in the sky keeps on turning) and the weather was spectacular.

We started picking up a lot more deutsche today, and there have been more and more times where I have felt proud of myself, or of Kellen, for our little successful attempts at communications- we have moved beyond the "guten tag" and "vas es das?" stage ! I decided today that if I give in to the L word (loan. ugh, that word) and put myself through school, I will most definitely take a German class. I love this language- anyone who denies it is a romance language hasn't stayed in a town like Debinghausen, and experienced the true essence of Germany.

Last night, I woke up suddenly to a surprisingly loud buzzing in my ear. After freaking out and swatting myself, I hid under the covers and tried to stay still...then I realized how ridiculous it was to hide from a mosquito. Flashback: me, ten years ago, sleeping in the same room, in the same bed with my sister...waking up to the same noise, spazzing out in the exact same manner. Only now, I couldnt run to get my mutti and complain of the weird mosquito that wouldnt leave me alone and stop buzzing by my ear, even when i hid under the covers. I remember turning onthe lights, not finding anything, then turning them off and getting in bed again, only to hear it once more. This time, I ignored it, and it left me alone...yes, I was under the covers...but it took me awhile to fall back asleep, and I couldnt stop itching. (totally psychological)

Yesterday, Verena took us to the up the path on the hill, leading to the forest where she used to take me and my cousin when we were little, and where she took her sons sledding all the time in the winter when they were still young enough to enjoy such things (hell, I would do it now... who needs snow or sleds- anyone have a laundry basket?) We used to pick blueberries on tha path- right around the time it started giving me deja vu, she asked me if I remembered it- and it all came rushing back. The pinecones, the bushes overflowing with blueberries (not in season now, too bad)...some of my favorite childhood memories have been relived these past few days, I can't possibly explain how it feels. The forest was unimaginably phenomenal- miles and miles of trees that stand like tall, thin yet stately armies. In Kellen's blog, she described them as "looking like they have been holding hands for decades"...I think that is the best way one would possibly describe them, and their beauty and power. We explored them a little,interacted with them and recorded them. Just like I predicted, as the sun rays sifted through them, painting the ground with moving, incandescent beds of light...as I walked through the soft, moist years of built up moss, I gave some of myself to them, and it will remain entrenched there for all time.

After sarching out the right place, I found a spot that was more green and full of life than its surroundings, where one lone purple flower grew, strong, courageous, distinct, sublime. The trees formed a shelter high above this spot, but allowed light to fill it as well- patterns of shade and light on the lush green . It was near a greenhouse and beautiful little garden where Nana used to love to visit every time she was in Germany. I knelt down and gave her back to her home, to the flowers and ground and wind, to the trees. Later, me and Kellen got on the bikes again...today was a much better day to ride, couldn't have asked for better weather. We were going to go to the playground for pictures, but my camera battery died (again), so instead we took a random path we found that looked good for exploring on two wheels (or 4.)
I think it was meant to be- because we found some gorgeous fields, a living picture of Germany under a spread of blue skies...and I gave more of Nana back to the earth, to the country and town that gave her more pleasure than anywhere on earth. It was a beautiful celebration of her life, not a mourning, and I am so glad Kellen was able to share it with me and record it for me to remember always. I will never forget one detail of those moments...the brush of the tall grass as I went deep into it, spreading her into the breeze, the sun beaming down an undescribable warmth, an approval, the feel of her bones against my skin as I allowed the breeze to guide her home, to give her life- a sublime story- the perfect ending, and give birth to new life inside and all around me. It was not weird, or gross, to feel her remains...I was beyond proud, and content, and I clutched my hand close to my heart when I was finished, to warm what remained of the dust. Today, before I leave, I will finish with the last in the backyard of this amazing place she adored.
Rest in peace Nana- you are back where you belong (vilkommen back). Ich liebe dich, you live within me always.

Once again, we were taken in, by everyone in the neighborhood- to be a part of the celebrations they share. The traditions, as I mentioned before- they are so utterly inspiring.

Simone, my cousin's fiance, turned 25 a few weeks ago- and her and Stephan's house is decorated with empty cigarette boxes strung all over their yard and the outside of the house like Christmas lights or streamers. It is the tradition here for unmarried girls on their 25th birthday. Apparently, for guys, they do socks insetad of cigarette boxes. I love it! Until today, we didnt notice the thin, white tree leaning at an angle by the entrance of my other cousin, Basti, and his girlfirend Nadine's front door -they live in a loft above Verena's house. Trees are chopped down by all the boys in the town and placed by the front door of unmarried girls the first of May every year. Today we celebrated my family's neighbors 25th, silver, anniversary. On the silver anniversary, the neighborhood men gather an evergreen spruce and chop it into pieces to make an archway to put around the front door of the couple who is celebrating. The women buy yellow flowers and silver ribbon to decorate the arch with, and each one makes a special flower to put on it. They do a similar thing for the 5oth anniversary, but I believe it is with silver flowers with gold embellishments, and there are 50 instead of 25. All day, while we were celebrating, the teenage boys brought around Becks lemon beer (basically like German Miller Chill) and me and Kellen's favorite, Barre. As for the shots... vodka with a toothpicked-cherry in it (nein, not a chaser- you eat it before the shot, I guess to pad the blow?), a purple liquid... "plum kind, yes?," a greek liquor that I mentioned before, the one that tastes like licorice, and something that was green and absoltely delicious. Yes... germans can drink anyone under a table, but as Kellen put it, and I have said before.. its a different kind of drinking, a fantastic celebration of life and love.
It was superb, and there was plenty of laughter and joy to be had all around.

Kellen and I finished off the spectacular day by hopping an electric fence to chase longhorn. What can I say...sometimes the only way to vent the happiness in your heart and the liquor in your veins is to...well, run around a field wildly, scaring the hell out poor horned creatures.
(Good thing they weren't bulls, that's all I have to say.)

I will miss this place immesely.

On to München!

After two days in Deblinhausen

My pride in my background has been strengthened tenfold. I am falling in love with this country, and can understand why my mother and grandmotherhave always cared for it so immensely...maybe I am biased, because my roots are so deeply embedded here, but nontheless-I was not prepared for the emotions that have shaken my core since being in this little town.

Let me start where I left off, taking straight from the pages of my journal; no pictures this time, but the writing will be long and detailed, as well as personal. Therefore, those of you that love to read will take joy in this, and those of you that were the sift-through-thepages-and-look-at-the-pictures kids...better luck next time. On the train from Berlin to Hanover, this is (some of) what I wrote:

Strange sensations are crashing over me in waves. Sleeping on the hard floor last night, trying to keep warm under the sleeping bag, I realized how alive I felt, being truly alone, leaving behind the comforts of home, almost everything and everyone I know....everything familiar forgotten as I venture into completely uncharted, new territories. New lands, new faces, new ideas, new smells and tastes. Although some of what is before me will be familiar- the pieces of Deblinghuasen I will remember will be experienced through new eyes, and will therefore be unprecedented.

New life, it fills every corner

New abilities to BE

To look inside myself....and each and every moment that passes leaves me more aware of how much I still have to learn about myself.

Sometimes I tend to look to others and pine for what they have accomplished, what traits/talents they possess...instead of embracing my own andd expanding my own personal pursuits and individual qualities/chracterisitcs...I still have a long way to go-and Im sure it will be a work in progress throughout my life, but Im so ready for change..for focusing on myself without being selfish, for working on my self growth and acceptance (evolution of soul) while alsostill remaining attentive to whats going on around me....how I can do things for others. I dont believe in a full force form of hedonism- but I know in order for me to become independent, more responsible, and the enlightened spirit/woman I hope to become, I need to really make the most of these weeks and take the time given to me for exploration and reflection,

and let every moment linger and seep into my body to remain and be carried with me always.

On board the train to Hanover, where Verena will pick us up, the images of Geman morning-country and woods flashing by instills a sense of peace in me that I cannot put into words, a desire is arising in me, so powerful it is almost violent. I am following my need to fall, chasing starlight and the magnetism of the planet rhythms; this ship is taking me far away, from the memories, from the people who care if I live or die.

Black holes and revelations are everwhere,

hopes and expectations- clinging and yet fleeing with the wind.

It is electrifying my life.

There are some ways I feel very connected to Kellen, although we have had many tense moments of differences. I see her face reflecting back to her a smaller, distorted version of herself in her camcorder viewing window as she films the world rushing by us and know that is is not just me experiencing these feelings. She gets irritated with me sometimes, when I ask questions- and I dont blame her; I understand that maybe its frustrating...but Im so new to this- the having to depend ONLY on yourself, esp. in foreign territories...and sometimes I feel so helpless, like a little girl. Yet, while she can lose patience (who could blame her? we all do, anyway) we have our moments where the evidence of a bond emerges, like on the small plane, when we hit the worst turbulence and I held onto her for dear life, and she kept me calm and talked me through it, completely patient...

or just a few minutes ago, when she suddenly and sporadically hugged me after the train conductor punched holes in both our rail passes. Both sets of our eyes- her crystal blue pair, and my own dark honey set, switch between the pages of our journals and the window, where our pupils take everything is, shifting rapidly, dancing, open and full. She is truly an inspiration.

A few details of Berlin I forgot to write of yesterday: I have never been a fan of history as they teach it in school, but the history that abounds in Berlin, on every street, in the structures and the people, in the air you breathe....the kind of history you live and experience in person, thats a different story. Being in the Berliner Dom was almost too overwhelming at first...there was haunting memories, although not my own, imprinted in the lavish gold embellishments, the huge, beautiful pain-stakingly detailed dome ceiling, altars, and organs----but even more so in the "underground" of the Dom we explored. We followed the steps until they turned into old, cracking, brick and stone, and years of existence becomes etched in every corner....and further still, when they became black iron and metal, almost too narrow and steep to climb, and there is too much to take in at once. We purposely got lost in the dusty, glowing hallways with old windows looking out onto the roof of the cathedral- falling back through time, both of us mostly quiet and reverent in our discovering.

I am realizing more and more as time passes that I dont push myself enough, and how much I want to change that.

I am also gettng a better idea and sense of how utterly vast the world really is. The mysterious depth of the forests we're passing through is both ominous/cold/indifferent/intimidating and alluring, calling to me. Maybe the allure makes sense, considering how drawn I am to the story of Chris McCandless (Into the Wild) the boy who ceased communicating with his family, gave away his savings of $24,000, and began traveling into the wilnerness in Alaska, abandoning his car and burning all the money in his wallet. I have often wondered what it would be like to allow the wilderness to swallow me up and take me into itself, as I simultaneously take it into myself, and become one with it.

I want to find more than one place to spread Nana's ashes on...her essence is interwoven in and throughout everything I see- although it is strongest out here in the country, where she lived and loved. It is so hard to be here, and yet it feels so right, and I know both of these emotions will only grow when I arrive at Verena's. I am so glad that I am able to do this for her- I know how much more she will be at peace after some of her remains find the grounds,

lands,

winds

of her home and take root where they belong. I know that the moment those ashes touch my hands,

leave them,

and then are scattered into Germany's hands, my connection to and bond with my Nana will be complete, and she can rest at peace within me and within each and every molecule, breath...

in bones, memory, time, and eternity.

I have no words for what I am experiencing and feeling.

I am so full right now.

(Not of food)

The old, dilapidated German towns, the cottages, the wood piles, the hanging mist decorating the green fields, the other passing trains- they all bring tears to my eyes and work their way into my blood.

-------------

Zo...this day and nacht have been wondabau!

Everything that my memories have sustained is exactly as I remember...

by far, the most overwhelming thing has been the smells.

I never truly realiyed the full power of them until today. As soon as we pulled in the cobblestone driveway, nostalgia was drowning me thickly. Deblinghausen is so cozy, familiar, and beautiful...and all the secents I experienced as a child invaded my senses and nearly brought me to my knees. The house itself has a very particular smell to it....and each room has its own individual aura and accompanying scent- the bathrooms, the upstairs living room and bedrooms, the bed in the room we are staying in (the bedroom and bed smell the EXACT same), the backyard, the kitchen, the pantry, the badedas...its almost too much. Memories I have not recalled for years surfaced in my mind like treasures lost at sea, suddenly freed from the depths to float towards the light. I remembered the delicious breakfast bread, coated in cinnamon and sugar, that I loved as a little girl..I would sneak into the pantry to snack on it, listening to music with Taryn in Stephan's room, reading the only English book I could find (about an Alaskan husky sled-dog, and his relationship with his owner until his death) on the balcony, and crying when I learned of the dogs fate, trying to run his owner to vicotry during a race (his heart exploded- and sometimes I am so overcome with joy that I can relate). I remembered taking baths in the large brown bathtub in the upstairs bathroom, and showers in the downstairs bathroom, with its eerie green decor....trying to decide between the various Duschdas, and making imaginary scenarios for my imaginary friends, I remembered playing with Taryn on the zipline in the schoolyard playground, trying to communicate with the German kids, I remember sitting in the den upstairs, sipping yellow Brause´, curlers in my hair, climbing those beloved green stairs countless times, the cherry trees in the backyard. the undescribable forests and trees I have dreamed of and longed for- they are just as I remembered, majestic....more so in this area than the ones I saw on the train, en route, I remembered playing in the attic, finding board games, the blue bathroom by Oma's room, where she had a special machine that lowered her into the bathtub so she could take baths- the tiles were so familiar, I could almost feel their cold contours beneath my fingertips, the details of their dark cerulean and white patterns welcoming to my pupils, as if they felt at home, yet also felt the same discomfort as I felt as a child, thinking of my great grandmother's weathered body struggling in and out of the water.

I remember the parasailers we saw at the outdoor pool, eating at a German cafe and being utterly excited about my My Little Pny stickers, licorice and Kinderchoclata, the indoor waterpark, the theme park with its bendy bicycles and tightropes and strange V cart rollercoater, digging in my cousin`s ´many black zippered pockets for the plastic toy water gun- only to realize I had found the wrong pocket (get yer mind out of the gutter!).

I could go on for hours, pulling all the memories from my core, as I walk from room to room- but at a certain point, I begin to feel weak...for the gem of my childhood manifests such euphoria in me, it nearly makes my soul tired, drained of energy because it longs so much to relive those days. The smell of the laundry, the taste of the tomatoes, the German desserts...almost magical.

I cant believe it has been 10 years.

I have grown so much, and yet not at all (it feels more right to be here than it ever did before)...

and after being here only a short while, I am already beginning to think in German at times, even when I dont know what my ownthoughts mean, as if I was meant to speak and understand German (and I think I was).

note to self: learn German

People are so welcoming here, and friendly- everyone is family to everyone, and neighbors are so involved in each others lives....honoring traditions together, and doing things for one another...it is so mind boggling and eye opening. The traditions that they have here that Verena describes to us makes me long to be a part of such alovely, close knit community....I dont even know my neighbors' names, let alone make wreaths of gold flowers and, along with half the town, throw parties/barbeques for their 25th wedding anniversaries.

There are so many tradtions I list in my journal that I learned about- but for the sake of not boring you guys TOO much, Ill skip over them. However, just know there is an abundance, esp. related to getting and being married, between friends, families, and lovers; things they must do pre-marriage, in order to be able to move on to the next step or phase in their lives. To some, it may seem strange or excessive....but I dont look at it that way. To me, it is obvious that people in Germany dont necessarily feel obligated to do them- they enjoy and take pride in upholding these traditions, in being so involved in each other's lives and actively taking part in being a strong community and family....one great, big family. They truly savor life, and one another, and their country here. Of course, there are always exceptions- but overall, I have noticed how much less they abuse nature, their food, their relationships...and yes, perhaps I am speaking from bias again, but just watching the interaction between Germans, and reveling in the beauty of the countryside (German countryside is different from what Americans consider sountryside) has taught me and shown me things I was much too young to pick up on when I was a little girl- although the feeling of being at home remains the same. Everyone you meet, or happen upon, takes the time to say "Guten tag" or hello....there is laughter and enjoyment everwhere, yet not the same way there is laughter and enjoyment in a drunken weekend in Texas, or a spring break vacation. You can have a fantastic time having a few drinks after dinner without waking up the next morning trying to recall what you did in the hours before you fell asleep. Now, dont get me wrong- the rumors that the Germans know how to drink is very true....however, regardless of the drinks shared, no drama was had, feelings hurt, no bad decisions were made as a result of the warming liquid swimming in ones blood....we just sat around the canary yellow tablecloth and embraced the good company.

We shared an amazing dinner of chicken, stuffed mushrooms, potato salad, tomato salad, cucumber/vegetable/feta salad, etc.

We sampled German beer, and two liquors: one that was clear and tasted of licorice, complete with flakes of glitter; one that was sweet, dark, and rich...yet surprisingly light. Toasts and celebrations were had, "Proust"s ringing out around the table as glasses clinked and light hearted teasing, sincere laughter, and general good times were shared between people of very different backgrounds and contrasting yet surprisingly similar cultures.

Verena's food was as good as I have always remembered. It felt good to be able to fully enjoy food without restricting myself....although there are twinges of guilt, considering I am coming home to swimsuit season (but I am more concerned with giving my body a bit of a break and treating my soul and mind right.)

Although I dont understand much German, I was never uncomfortable hearing others converse in it, nor did I ever feel out of place or left out, sitting amogst everyone, observing their tones and gestures...I began to feel what they were saying, and feel as though I understood it. Kellen contested to this as well. We were both at ease, and I did not once feel lost; I followed conversations as if the words being spoken were translated to me in an intuitive, instinctual, internal ("i") mind-machine.

It was nice to see Basti again- and experice the contradictory aspects of time, memory, and aging. He looks so much older than I imagined, and yet, I think I was expecting him to be the same Basti whose lap I sat on, in the bench in the backyard while he smoked a cigarette.My memories of him have not changed as the years have passed and he has aged- I saw it in the lines on his face....he was very obviously close to 30. However, his laugh was close to the same, maybe a few octaves deeper....very pleasing, I have always been drawn to voices, something me and Katy have in common. Stephan has been sick, so I have not been able to see him. Their girlfriends are great- Zimona is funny, and expressive...which makes understanding her much easier, and makes me feel as though I can relate to her more. She is very sharp and knows a little English, Nadine is very sarcastic, which I like. Perhaps these details are unimportant, but I am so intriqued by others, esp. those from other countries. Both similarities and differences overflow- between their culture and ours.

It was delightful calling home- the way I blabbered on while soaking in the bathtub showed me my true joy at being here- it made my heart smile and ache at the same time. Jaron and I didnt speak long, he was working...but he sounded sincerely happy to hear my pleasure, which meant more to me than I could express.

My fierce passion for life is sprouting all over, inside of me...little blossoms of love on an already flourishing tree (whose progressive growth will never be complete, always evolving, branching out throughout time's flowing waters.)

I slept better than I have for weeks, enveloped in one of the most inviting, soft, comfortable and familiar beds I have slept or rested in....content, clam, weary from the abundance of nostalgia, satisfaction, learning... taking-in of the world, this new-old world (the sights I experienced as a child, seen through new eyes- older, yet younger than ever before- open, curious, ready and willing to learn and see...aware, and yet finding mystery everywhere they look.)

I cannot possibly describe the scent of this bed, nor the velvet smooth softness of it...it is nuturing, like a (German) grandmother's warm, downy arms- erasing and embracing your troubles away.

random note: the cheese here is amazing. Gouda- mmmmmm.

also: I just now realiyed I have always called my uncle "Rhiner", although his name is actually Reinhardt. It took me almost 21 years to get it right, and yet I still want to call him Rhiner, even in my head.

He still has the same amused smile and kind eyes....and has gotten less intimidating as time passes.

17th of May, 2008

We slept in this morning... I äm telling you, that bed is absolutely killer. Plus, the blinds were shut tightly in our room, keeping out the light of the day...although it is a particularly gray and drizzly day (as Verena would say, "scheisse waether"). Plus, I think our jet lag and sore muscles are catching up with us. It has been a couple of days since sleeping in an actual bed, let alone a bed fallen straight from heaven.

When we finally did "rouse", it was too a long, loud and lingering siren outside in the distance. I was instantly nervous, and I guess Kellenw as thinking the same thing, because the first thing she said, still half asleep, was "Where I come from, that means theres a tornado."

We both got up to check it out, peaking out the window...relieved to find nothing, only the information that is was only a train (amongst laughter from my family upon our questioning the noise.)

I think today was the first time I had a doughnut in years.

I'm not kidding.

Yes...it was delicious. Jelly filled and all.

Kellen and I went on a bike ride on my aunt and uncles bikes....they had to lower the seats for us, we couldn't even get on them without making a jump for it. It was halfheartedly raining, but we ignored it and rode through the cool, misty German streets (picture: red stone roads; red, green, and brown traditional- and beautiful- German houses; wind farms in the distance, quaint little schoolhouses and shops, fields and gorgeous pine-ish trees, and so on). We happened across the same playground I adored and frequented as a child...I cant explain how completely thrilled I was. It was just as I remembered it as well...if not more appealing to my eyes, like exceptional wine that has improved with age, and the addition of years. Kellen took pictures (my camera battery was left at home, I promise to get some tomorrow) and I found a small, lost piece of my youthful soul on the wet zipline; cold, wet air blasting my face left me feeling splendidly alive. This feeling only built as we road the bikes some more, laughing as we dropped cameras and braked too hard, trying to get used to-but loving- the foreign bikes.

While riding them, I had the first moment of longing to stay here...not forever, but for awhile, to call it home for a chapter of my life. However, I have people I want to come back to, and I would miss Austin very quickly.

We came back home to dry out, and then headed with my aunt to see my cousin at the fire station, where the fire brigade was having a sort of competition, or mini Olympic ordeal... "Vetcomfe." (sp?)

It was fun to watch the men, women and children (in training, girls included) in bright orange, either standing in circles talking with one another, or competing- fire hoses blasting.

Kellen and I, once non red meat eaters, had traditional German Brautwurst- complete with fires soaked in ketchup and mayo (soooo nutricious, I can feel my skin glowing..with grease). I did it for my Nana (she loved it)...but actually realized it was enjoyable,and maaayyybbe a little tasty.

Yes, Kellen got footage of it...so Jaron can laugh with joy to see his girlfriend actually eating red meat.

Afterwards, Verena took us shopping...which was so nice of her: Kellen got a light jacket, which she needed (she didnt believe it would be so cold) and another pair of pants (she brought only one, versus my two...although her back was thanking her for her sacrifices) and I got two new pairs of shoes...as if I needed them (for my birthday.)

Lunch was truly delicious- Verena took us to a tiny Italian restaurant tucked into a corner of a nearby town. The man who owned it was a true Italian man (big, festive belly, dark shin and hair and half moustache, deep thooated, scratchy voice and laugh, eloquent speech and gestures, very welcoming) who also speaks German (ok, no brainer- he does live in Germany, idiot) and made us feel like we were guests in his kitchen at home...which, technically, we were- the tiny restaraunt was so cozy and inviting, like a home (not a house, a home.) We spoke and leanred Italian, German, and English together, and laughed with another neighbor that joined....and the food and accompanying wine were delicious. Benissimo!!

Verena drove us around afterwards, showing us the beautiful woods on the back country of the town...where she will take us tomorrow for pictures, if the weather is better. The trees, once again...I have no words for them.

She showed us the "moor" ("moore", or "more" .... i don't know how it is spelled) which is kind of like areas in fields of dark, blackish dirt that is actually quicksand (and apparently eats the cows)....it looks normal upon first glance, because it has grass and such growing on it...I suppose it is sort of like a swamp. She also showed us the areas of the country that have fire damage, where within the woods there is miles of a black dirt like substance, that she described as "not real dirt". We didn't understand at first, so she stopped the car at this massive, vast field....it was a dark wasteland of things forest fires have burned over time- sort of like a mulch, or ash, that looks just like dirt on the outside and gets wet by the rain, but underneath, when you sift your fingers through it, it is weirdly dry. Although I describe it as a wasteland, it is not truly so- it was still full of growing life, real plants and bushes spoted here and there throughout the rows of blackness. It is hard to describe...but I took pictures, so I will post them later. We walked in it, jumped in it, scrutinized it...and I felt a sensation of being extremely small, and insignificant- just a tiny smudge on the big picture. My own mortality blazed a hole through my mind, and when I began shivering, it wasn't just from the cold.

Verena truly took the time to help us experience many sides and parts of this town, of something so much immense than just ourselves.

When we got home, I was warmed by a hot chocolate with the German form of Bailey`s....which I like a little more than its American counterpart.

If you have never thought to mix peas with onions, garlic, jalapenos, and pepper, than put them on toast, you should do it.

Bacardi?

(says Rhiner. no, not Reinhardt.)

I am saying good nacht for now. The paradise bed is calling me to the sweet depths of un-consciousness.

Please forgive spelling slip ups, it's late and the z and y are switched on the German keyboard, among other differences. As the Mortal Kombat corner man would say, whooopssyyyyyy!

Guten Abend from Berlin

We made it!
Thanks to everyone for the good wishes, and special thanks to those closest to me for giving me faith I would survive the flights;I never thought I would step on a small plane again, but 1.5 z.b.'s and a screwdriver later, I was in a strange dream like state, still scared, yet hearing my mommy's voice in my head..."there's no way you're not coming home to me."

As for the international flight...I was calmer, but maybe that's because I was distracted by the fact that we got on first class. We're talking mimosas, great wine, moroccan crab salad, asparagus soup, fruit and cheese, parmesan crusted mahi mahi, being woken up to hot towels and omelettes with more fruit and potatoes, free movies to choose from- HBO and Flight of the Conchords included...everything free of charge. Who ever thought flying standby could be such a fantastic idea- cheap flights AND we get first class? Oh yeeeah. But needless to say, because of my fear, I was still much more grateful to land alive in beautiful Berlin than to get first class. [Not that I would complain if we ever graced those territories again.]

When we were landing and I watched the familiar German countryside grow closer and closer, I experienced an excitement I haven't felt for years...maybe stemming from childhood memories of driving through the lush green fields and spectacular forests of Germany, imagination soaring.

The weather was and is perfect here...not sticky and humid like in Texas, but clear, fresh, and cool. Jet lag didn't hinder us from starting our trek right away- although I realized quickly that I should have tested my backpack a little better, it's FAR too heavy, and as of now, at the end of our long day, I literally have indentations and bruises from where the straps were. Gotta learn the hard way...

We had a little trouble orienting ourselves with the town, especially the public transportation systems. The bus was harder to find than it should have been, but we had to get beyond our initial state of overwhelming anxiousness and realize all it took was a little common sense. This city is captivating...at first glance it seems so much like any other city, and than you get into its depths and discover the hidden treasures. We are trying hard to save Euros where we can, and didn't get lazy and bus/taxi it the whole time- we did a lot of walking, especially around the city centre. The gem of the centre is the Tiergarten, where the never ending foliage is embellished with an abundance of nude sunbathers. (I knew right away I would adore this town, ha!) We got a little turned around in the circular intersection- ok, maybe lost...but only for a little while- so we sat down and people watched, bathing in the essence of the city and eating the PB&J's we took packed with us to take overseas (more $ saved. be proud!) Considering Berlin's "city" classification, it has retained more trees, plants, gardens, cleanliness, and GREEN everywhere than any city I have seen, even Austin....which is so refreshing. Even more refreshing is how much the people that live here enjoy the city's bounties- they all enjoy it to the fullest, lying in the grass in the parks, or anywhere at all, reading or just savoring the weather and good company. People bike EVERYWHERE....you even see men and women dressed for work on bikes, on their daily route to their jobs. Their pure pleasure in being a part of Berlin put an inexplicable happiness in my heart, and I felt at home- regardless of the sometimes unfriendly locals (you have that everywhere, but most of them were pleasant.)

We walked to the Bauhaus, which was top priority on our list- and I wasn't disappointed at all. The simplicity of the principles taught there, art made there, and architecture is stunningly beautiful and balanced- and the balance stirs something in my bones, something I'm longing for. We also checked out the Reichstag, which you'll see in one of the pictures- this whole entire building was wrapped by two of my favorite landwork artists, Jeanne- Claude and Christo. I'll post a picture of that later, and explain more also..I'm short on time tonight, it's much later than 7 pm here (Austin time) and my body is aching for sleep.
On that note, one reason this is so, other than the obvious (jet lag+backpacking all day) is the fact that me and Kellen decided to take Sammy's advice and check out the Berliner Dom, which is the oldest and most exquisitely ornate cathedral/church in Berlin- also in pictures. By "check it out," I mean- climb the hundreds of old stairs to the very top of the huge Dome, where the view of Berlin stole our breath. We adventured up at least 15 flights of stairs, some larger and older than others, (me carrying at least 50 pounds of weight) finding hidden nooks to revel in along the way. It was ridiculously exhausting but completely worth it. And the shower I took tonight? The best one of my life.

Our night ended with a trip to the market with our awesome German friend Hendrich, who was so kind to put us up for the night; followed by a mindblowing first true meal in Europe that me and Kellen threw together in return for Hendrich's kindness: salad with tomatoes, red peppers, bean sprouts, and fresh, real gorgonzola cheese (melt in your hands& mouth)/pasta with homemade sauce, garlic, mushrooms, tomatoes, more peppers, and some of my asparagus sauce/grilled asparagus with secret sauce ("it's semen. animal semen.")and more gorgonzola/ a delicious German wine that fit the meal perfectly. It was so wonderful sharing a fresh meal together in Hendrich's cozy high rise condo style apartment, balcony door open to allow the cool air in, us laughing over German/American stereotypes for each other...just being able to enjoy the company of new friends that are welcoming and accepting, and can share one another's culture and small pieces of each other's lives.

Need to rest now, have to be up early to catch a train to my family's house- I absolutely can't wait to see them and experience the countryside again! I have been wanting to go back since the day I left, back in my 5th grade era. I think I left little piece of my soul in the thick, rich forests...and I intend to leave another this time around, perhaps a larger one this time. I miss and love you all so, so much and wish you could all be here to be apart of this with me- but I promise you are with me in spirit, and vice versa. I'll be able to make calls soon, but the time change is weird, so beware calls in the middle of the night. Ich liebe dich!!!

the time is now

and i intend to enjoy every bit of it...slowly, carefully-as if i were allowing an exotic, rich dark chocolate (with chilies, my favorite) to melt on my tongue and on the roof of my mouth, coating my palette with a lingering taste of beauty, a little piece of heaven.

thanks to a dear friend for reminding me to slow down and savor everything, that there is much time-even when it feels like there is not nearly enough, sometimes.


Final preparations today. Perpetual butterfies in stomach. Deep breaths.....
[live-in the now.]

Dallas first, then liftoff in 3 days

I need this.
Although a little nervous, I'm so ready. It's time I truly open my pores and allow my spirit to drain into the world, becoming one with the flowing life force I feel and see in everything around me. I'm so hungry- for experience, for knowledge, for exploration, for discovery, for peace, for balance, for evolution, for conquering fear, for probing (myself, esp.), for solitude.

Speaking of solitude...
Rilke can change lives.

From Letters to a Young Poet:

....Would a solitude be that was not vast; there is only one solitude, and it is vast, heavy, difficult to bear, and almost everyone has hours when he would gladly exchange it for any kind of sociability, however trivial or cheap, for the tiniest outward agreement with the first person who comes along, the most unworthy. . . . But perhaps these are the very hours during which solitude grows; for its growing is painful as the growing of boys and sad as the beginning of spring. But that must not confuse you. What is necessary, after all, is only this: solitude, vast inner solitude. To walk inside yourself and meet no one for hours - that is what you must be able to attain. To be solitary as you were when you were a child, when the grown-ups walked around involved with matters that seemed large and important because they looked so busy and because you didn't understand a thing about what they were doing.

And when you realize that their activities are shabby, that their vocations are petrified and no longer connected with life, why not then continue to look upon it all as a child would, as if you were looking at something unfamiliar, out of the depths of your own solitude, which is itself work and status and vocation? Why should you want to give up a child's wise not-understanding in exchange for defensiveness and scorn, since not-understanding is, after all, a way of being alone, whereas defensiveness and scorn are participation in precisely what, by these means, you want to separate yourself from.

Think, dear Sir, of the world that you carry inside you, and call this thinking whatever you want to: a remembering of your own childhood or a yearning toward a future of your own - only be attentive to what is arising within you, and place that above everything you perceive around you. What is happening on your innermost self is worthy of your entire love.

I knelt in the tall grass outside of my new-old home yesterday, watching the drops of warm water hit and shift the blades of grass and weeds;summer is here. I can feel it in the hot, moist air. I'm sad to leave so close to the peak of greenbelt season, but I know it will still be here waiting for me...cool, serene, relaxed arms open wide and welcoming.

a tribute (to my flower crown child)

We were talking-about the space between us all
And the people-who hide themselves behind a wall of illusion
Never glimpse the truth-then it's far too late-when they pass away.
We were talking-about the love we all could share-when we find it
To try our best to hold it there-with our love
With our love-we could save the world-if they only knew.
Try to realize it's all within yourself
No-one else can make you change
And to see you're really only very small,
And life flows ON within you and without you.
We were talking-about the love that's gone so cold and the people,
Who gain the world and lose their soul-
They don't know-they can't see-are you one of them?
When you've seen beyond yourself-then you may find, peace of mind,
Is waiting there-
And the time will come when you see
we're all one, and life flows on within you and without you.




Shit. 10 days.

26ish days and counting

Nervous.



anybody have any tranquilizers to donate? ha