A Walk through History

As some, well, lets be honest, as all of you know, I've been dating this European Dreamboat for a few months

He was on assignment in Munich, then had to go home for what was meant to be a month. It ended up being a lot longer. So, I decided to come visit.

I arrived on a Sunday afternoon. Erik picked me up from the airport and we drove to his house. I was so nervous to meet his parents, but of course, they are the nicest people in the world. I mean, Erik's the nicest guy in the world, so his parents had to be great. So great they did this:

Funny thing is, I didn't even notice it at first. My boyfriend had to point it out. Even then, it didn't click to me that it was odd to be flying an American Flag in The Netherlands. But then I got it. How awesome are they!!

 Now, Erik is like an adult or something, and he has this job where he has to go everyday? I don't really get the whole idea, but thankfully Monday was a holiday so he had the day off. He took me on a walk through the forest near his house. His town has a lot of history from World War 2, and his dad spends a lot of time researching it. His dad created a walk through their forest as a sort of remembrance to what has happened.

The start of the walk

This is a replica of the underground caves people hid Jews it. You can't see them from behind, they just blend in with the landscape.

A pilot crashed in his town and due to the soil conditions his imprint remained in the mud for 10-15 years. This is a replica of that (my boyfriend was the model)

This is a crater from where a plane dropped their bomb cargo

Nazi trenches

Erik in the Nazi trenches

Just lookin' hott.

The whole thing is really cool. I think it's great how much Europeans still remember the war and try to learn from it so history doesn't repeat itself.

Look closely at this picture

Could you be more Dutch?
hehe. Okay back to my story.

So anyway, along with the cool forest, his father also created this monument to commemorate the crew of a bomber that crashed here during the war.

His dad has put a lot of work into this, and has even been invited to dine with the Queen because of it!! So basically, what I'm trying to tell you is, my boyfriends kind of a big deal. Hahahaha.

Anyway, it was a great day. I learned a lot. And really love his town.

Frühlingsfest

I wanted to start this post with, "It's finally spring in Germany" but then I realized, hmm. I think I may have not one, but two post already with this beginning. Then I pause and look outside. It's pouring rain, and yet again, freezing cold.


What is with this weather I ask you! One day it's 80 degrees, the next it's 40! My wardrobe is getting confused!

And now the point of this post.

Frühlingsfest. Ah Frühlingsfest. Known to the locals as "Oktoberfest's little sister", it is in fact, just another excuse for German's to get dressed up in lederhosen and dirndls and drink at inappropriate times of the day.

Now, it's not all about drinking. There are also rides. Like the County Fair. And many places to buy greasy German fast food.

So you're thinking, let me get this straight. First you get drunk, then you eat a giant bratwurst followed by a schnitzl, then you go spin around high up in the air?

My answer for you is yes. That's exactly what you do. Until 8pm. If you have managed to stay conscious until around 8pm, then the real fun begins. (or the real fun for me, considering I don't drink) Everyone gathers together in these giant beer tents where there are many tables packed full of people. They cram as many people as they can into on table, and have about 25% of the amount of servers they require. All of them are very cranky. I wonder why? People squish as close as they can, and needless to say you end up making a lot of friends. The fire captain would not be happy about this.

In addition, they decorate them as if it were going out of style. Tons of color everywhere! When the night gets going, they have DJ's come and play popular music, both American and German. People get crazy. They stand up and on the benches and dance like no one is watching. Now. The problem with mixing alcohol, Germany, height, and dancing is, people fall down a lot. Something like this would never happen in America, because frankly, someone would sue. It sure is funny to watch.

On that note. While I was sipping my alcohol free beverage, the waiter came around and brought more beer to our table. In the process, he set a glass on top of my glass and it chipped. I showed him the shards of glass in my drink. He looked at me and said (in German), "what do you want me to do about it?" and walked away. hmm. I'm proud of the American Legal System. And no, I'm not ashamed to say that.

This festival goes on for about three weeks. It sure is a lot of fun. Sadly, like all good things, it came to an end.

126 more days until Oktoberfest.

International Love

Some of you may have heard this song by my personal favorite artist, Pitbull. Like most of his songs, it's a mixture of Spanish, Poor English, and Californian Gangster (which btw, I'm 100% fluent in). This however, is irrelevant. The important part is "International Love". Every time I hear it, I find it surprisingly appropriate.

Now some of you may be reading this thinking, "Love? Woah Steph. Calm down. That's a strong word." But let's not get caught up in the semantics. Surely "International kind-of-dating-but-nobody-is-quite-sure-what's-going-on" is a little more appropriate, but I don't think Pitbull can say that many words in one sentence.

Living abroad in a place like Munich, I have friends from literally all over Europe. I love them all very much. Here's a picture of a few:

Louis (Indonesian) Brigitte (Dutch) Cecile (French) Walter (Dutch)

One of our (my) favorite things to talk about is cultural differences. The most interesting one is dating. Here's why.

Dating in America has gotten way out of hand. It's not the way it used to be.. where a guy asks your dad if he can pin you, then you wear his pin and everyone knows you're "going together." No. It's way more complicated than that. There are all these games and stages you have to entertain. Both parties are scared of showing too much interest and the entire thing is just a giant headache.

I much prefer the French way.
You meet. You hang out. You kiss. BAM He's your boyfriend.

Or you can do it the German way
You meet. You avoid eye contact at all costs. You sit. You wait for her to talk to you. She never does. She leaves. You go home alone and never see her again. And this is why their population is declining.

Dating a European is an entirely new experience. And a great one at that.  I'm changing the saying. From now on, people will say, "Once you go European, you never go back." And I mean that in an entirely non-sexual kind of way.

A little European hospitality

It's Frühlingsfest and the city is full of tourists. For those of you who don't know what Frühlingsfest is... it's basically Oktoberfest. In spring. But that's another story. Tonight I'm telling the story of when Stephanie got drunk off of rage.

Listen. Everybody has their faults. I'm well aware of one of mine. There's a.. special.. side of me that only comes out in very rare occasions. This.. side.. doesn't always make the best decisions. Tonight was one of those. As many of you know, there is one thing you don't do to Stephanie. And that my friends, is mess with people I love. When you mess with someone in my circle.. let me just stop you right there. Don't mess with people I care about. Period.

Frühlingsfest is kind of a nut show. One waitress per 20 people, carrying eight 5lbs beer steins in each arm, people are grabbing as fast as they can. Tonight, my dear friend Sammy thought she ordered a beer, and figured she had to pay up front. She paid the waitress, and watched as the woman set a beer on the table, and an American guy picked it up. Next, she walked away. Sammy waited for her beer. Then the lady came back, and we realized, this American guy had stolen Sammy's beer!! Now you may be thinking, oh buzz off, it's just a beer. But no. These beers cost 8.40 euro..that's roughly $11 American dollars... and you have to wait 15-20min to get one. And so it begins.

We decided we were going to find these guys and ask them to give us money for the beer. I mean, everyone was really drunk, so we, being incredibly naive and having spent too much time around European boys, expected they would see their mistake and kindly give us her money back. Luckily, we found them pretty quickly. Sammy walked up and kindly explained the situation. "um, excuse me. But before, you drank my beer. I was just wondering if you wouldn't mind giving me the money back." They laughed in our faces. "haha good one. How old are you guys anyway. Go away". I started to get a little irritated. "Um, no sorry but I watched you grab her beer. Please just give us the money and we'll go away." They laughed again. "Here, I'll give you three euros if you get out of here." I took the three euros. "Um, no sorry that beer cost almost 9 euros. That isn't enough." One of their friends came up. They all started laughed. Sammy says, "real cool guys, thanks for being so awesome about this." She started to walk away. Oh heck no, I thought. At that point. I was furious. Seriously though. Seriously? They're going to steal beer from a girl?

I'm really frustrated with the American youth of my generation. They think they can do anything. It's guys like these that give American's a bad rep. "Stop right there." I said to Sammy. Having already thoroughly checked these guys out, I knew where his wallet was, but I also knew he was wearing $200 sunglasses. *Swipe! I grabbed them. "I'll give you your sunglasses back when you give me my money back" Instant regret. Before I knew it, I was cornered by three American men who were extremely close to my face. This may sound scary, but I was in a crowd of people. Nothing was going to happen. One grabbed my phone out of my hand. At that moment, I didn't care. I start to think. I have a beer stein full of non-alcoholic beverage in my head. How hard do I have to hit them to knock them out? Which one do I kick in the groin first? If I punch this one, will that punch me back? All of these thoughts are running through my head. A split second later, I hear this, "Oy, lady, you alright?" I look. A fine British gentlemen. "Absolutely not." I said back. My new friend sticks his face in the circle. "You better give her her phone back right now." He said in a British accent. "Not until she gives me my sunglasses back," They reply. "Alright then" my new friend says. "Oy boys. C'mere. This lady needs our help." And with that... several very large British gentlemen start walking towards me. The American guys freeze. I have never seen somebody reach for their wallet so fast. He gave me Sammy's money back, we exchanged phone for sunglasses, and I was escorted out of there.


I honestly couldn't believe what had just happened. Americans ae? I'm really sick of my generation. Have a little respect. And for goodness sake. Learn how to hold your liquor.

Here's a picture of the guy who saved us. Looking back, I should have just let it go. But I guess everyone goes Dr. Dirndl and Mrs. Hyde and some points in their life....

Dutch Invasion

It's official. The Dutch are colonizing München. And I'm not complaining in the slightest.

Here's the thing with Dutch Men. They are an elite race which should be studied for their superior genetics. In fact, I think they should be bred. Yes. Bred. Like dogs. The whole world should have a little bit of Dutch in them. I'm serious. Now. One would expect with genes as good as theirs for them to be a little overly-confident and a bit rude. I mean, people would let them get away with it just to be able to look at them. But no. They are funny, loyal, honest, and lemme telllll you. Papa sure raised 'em right.

Oh. And did I mention they all speak PERFECT English? Jeez. Where have they been hiding all my life?


 I'll introduce you to a few:

This is Walter. Having never even left Europe, he likes to tell people he's from Montana. And they believe him. He can solve a Rubik's Cube in less than three minutes. No joke. He and I have an on-going battle to see whose grammar is more correct. Right now the score is 6-4. He's winning. 

This is Erik. They don't make men like him in America. He's smart, funny, and sweet. He eats whatever he wants and has a perfect physique. I've banned him from talking about the amount of time he spends on his appearance. It's not fair that someone naturally looks this good. On a scale of 1-10, I'd say he's about an 11. Yes, even for a Dutch. He might be my favorite ;)

 Here is other Eric. Yes, it's confusing for us too. We've tried to come up with many nick-names. None of them seem to stick. A lot of the conversation is lost to which Eric we are talking about. Eric really did not want to be featured in my blog. Eric trains 2 hours a day, 6 days a week. He tries to keep it cool, but really, he's just a giant lovable teddy bear. And by teddy bear, I mean more like a Ken Doll. Because hugging him is like hugging something plastic. It kind of hurts.

And last but not least, Bas. Oh Bas, the original inspiration for this post. Although technically not living in Munich, there is definitely still room for him in this post. Let me tell you a bit about my new facebook friend Bas. He's sensitive, smart, in law school, he dresses well, and he's newly single. Oh, and did I mention he can dance the salsa like a mad man? He's a miracle worker. He had a room full of women melting in their seats as he gently recounted the story of how he found out he was no longer in a four year relationship. His ex-girlfriend is obviously still in high school. That's as clear as glass. I wish I could tell you the entire story, but I don't want to make his personal relationships public information. I will tell you this. Ladies. Watch out. Gentlemen, keep your girlfriends close by. This 21-year-old is back on the market. And he's coming back with a bang.

So there you have it. A Dutch invasion. With absolutely no complaints here. I'd even say they have an invitation. They could even go Dutch Indies on us. We wouldn't mind.

Auslanderin

I'm American. That's not news to anyone who has met me. Now, I know I'm biased, but personally, I think America is a pretty great country. I also think all foreigners have the same opinion. After four months of living abroad, I am continuously disappointed to find that is not so.

But is it? I mean, I'm one of two American's who hang out on a regular basis... and they really don't let me forget that. Foreigners love to bagg on America.. say how terrible of a country is it, say how fat the people are, how closed minded we are, and how every American thinks EVERYONE believes America is the greatest country in the world. At first it was hard not to be offended. I mean, instant judgement from anyone who meets me. People saying things like, "Oh wow, for an American you're really well-travelled", and "Oh wow, you're American and you speak more than English?". By now. I'm used to it. I realize I can't change where I come from, and honestly I wouldn't want to. Especially when I see things like these American Flag scarfs trending in Germany:

I mean, if my country is so terrible.. why do they talk about it all the time? Why does our flag show up in their wardrobe? Why do all foreigners tune in for our elections? I might regret saying this, but I think people are just afraid and or jealous of what our country has accomplished and the international power we hold.

Okay okay, I'm getting really off track. Maybe I am still a bit sensitive about it. This is not a political blog. The originally purpose of this blog post was to post about a funny story that happened to me in the club on Tuesday night.

After a last minute clubbing decision, Vanessa and I head out to 089 club. We get there and it is really crowded, really hot, and impossible to get a beverage. We are dancing together just having fun, not really paying attention to anyone around us. Suddenly I feel a tap on my shoulder. I look. A strange German kid. In German, he essentially says to me, "Can I tell you something? I think you're very beautiful. And I'd like to meet you." I'm like Ugh. For two reasons: 1. He has to be insanely wasted because only drunk germans hit-on girls and 2. I'm not interested in being hit-on at the moment. So I look at him and say, "Sorry, I don't speak any German." And turn around and continue dancing with Vanessa. He taps me on the shoulder again. "That is no problem! Where are you from?" He asks. "California." I say. "California?? The bankrupt state? Pff your governor sucks." And then he walked away... and I experienced true racism.

Katy Perry, you lied to me.

Keeping Time: The One with the Cast from Night Bus

Something I found very strange upon my arrival in Europe was the vast amount of people who wear watches. Everyone wears a watch! Old, young, cool, nerd-- in some way, shape or form, everyone wears a time piece on their wrist. I found this a bit odd--in America watches are only for Grandpa's and Hipsters. Why is that? I asked myself. Don't they have cell phones? yes. Does this mean they are always on time? no. Three months and some change later, I figured out why: Public Transportation.

In the last couple of weeks, I have spent more time in Munich after hours than ever before. Munich past mid-night is my favorite time to see the city. I have recently taken up exploring every part of it by foot. It's been really fun--despite an instance or two with the police-- and it's nice to be able to spend some quiet time away from everyone in the city. After most people go to sleep, Munich becomes like a small village. The English Gartens are empty, and at certain points it actually feels like your walking through a big forest. I'm really starting to love it. However, there's only one problem. The last U-Bahn leaves at 1:15am. After that, the night bus runs every hour.. from city center at :36 past exactly. And so my story begins.

The night bus is quite an interesting place. It's a normal sized metro bus, with places to sit and stand, but the thing that's different, is every weekend it is full of many characters. You have you quiet old lady that no one knows why she knitting on the bus at 4 am, your business man in a suit on his way to work, your quiet, nerd-like type reading, and then, of course, many drunk German youth speaking super loudly, lovers and haters, of all types of colors. You have you drunk crying emotional girl, Wastey-Pants who is passed out, angry drunk who wants to fight the bus driver, Mr. Friendly who chats you up the whole time-- everyone. It's quite fun to watch. Especially when Mr. Friendly is so drunk he doesn't realize he's chatting up Wastey-Pants, who is in fact, passed out. Meanwhile, old lady is just sitting in the back seemingly oblivious to the time and ambiance, and Business suit is just trying to avoid being thrown up on. It's a definitely a scene to see.

Now, those of you who have spent more than.. well.. five minutes with me.. know that following directions, finding places, and anything involving destinations are not exactly my strong suit. As stated, I know that the bus leaves from Odeonsplatz at 2:36, and again at 3:36. Thanks to my Europeans assimilation, my watch keeps me UTD on the time, and there should be no problem right? WRONG. In the last three weeks, I have managed not once, but twice, to end up on the exact opposite side of town in the wee hours of the morning. How does this happen? Straight up skills. I will give you one example.

Last week after a lovely walk through Munich with this European Dreamboat, I took the 2:36 night bus to Kieferngarten--a direct line, and my stop is the last one. Not easy to miss. I said good-bye to my friend, and in kind of a daze, jumped on the bus. Enjoying the show and still fading in and out of my daze, I wasn't really paying attention to where we were going. They are calling out the stops, and none of them seem familiar. No big deal, I thought, I don't have these stops memorized... so I'm probably just tired. Twenty minutes later.. I look around. I am no where familiar. I ask someone. Sure enough, I'm on the wrong bus. I get off the bus at the next stop. What do I do? My phone is dead. I have no money, no idea where I am. And it's now 3am. Thank goodness there is a U-Bahn station nearby. I cross my fingers. Forty minutes. In forty minutes comes the next train. So I sit down. There is an old lady knitting (I'm not even kidding). Forty minutes later, I catch my first U-Bahn, which takes me to the next U-Bahn, twenty minutes later that one leaves, and I arrive in Münchener Freiheit, fairly close to my house, and a big hub for college students. Sweet, I think. There's a Mc Donalds there.. they take debit cards! The next U-Bahn leaves in thirty minutes, so I got lots of time. Smiling, I'm so happy to have something warm to drink. I walk the block to McDonalds, see those golden arches, go to open the door and bam. It's closed from 5-6am. It is now 5:08. I wanted to cry. So I go to my train, sit, and wait. This drunk guy starts talking to me, and it turns out he did the same thing as me.. only 30 minutes later! We commiserate the entire ride home (he lived close to me). At 6:10 am, I finally get home.

So? straight up skills.