Interlude

Hello!

It's been about two weeks and I am happy to report that I am in California, enjoying the beautiful sunshine and relatively warm weather :)

Last week was intensely busy, as I was dancing with the Kibbutz Contemporary Dance Company from about 11:30 - 6 everyday. I can unequivocally tell you that I have never been as sore in my entire life as I was last Wednesday. The program was fantastic and I got to learn from two incredibly knowledgeable and inspiring teachers, and I made some new dance friends along the way. This week has already been filled with family dinners, wonderful friends, three Chanukah parties and my guilty trips to the gym following said parties and dinners.

I mostly wanted to write this post so I could formally sign off until Paris. I leave for France on January 5, and I have a lot to do before then :)

Wishing you all a wonderful holiday season with joyous celebrations of every sort!

D

Auf Wiedersehen

A recurring theme in all my classes this week has been ,,Was bedeutet Heimat für Sie?" or "what does home mean to you?" Heimat is not necessarily home, though. If we were to go back a few decades, there was a serious nationalistic bent to the term meaning something like 'homeland' or 'fatherland.' Today in Germany, there is much conversation over definitions of the term and what it means for specific people and groups.

In each of my classes, there was a specific spin to the question. In my German conversation class, the challenge was, obviously, to convey our personal thoughts in German. My "Jewish and Muslim Berlin (JaM)" class visited an exhibit on Heimat at the Jewish Museum, which explored the notion of Germany beginning to embrace its relatively new immigrant culture, and grappled with the meaning of and creation of home for minorities in this country. PoM (Politics of Memory) discussed the place of memory in one's Heimat - how important is collective memory in creating a narrative and shared heritage for a country and a people? Is it important at all?

When asked to draw my Heimat, I ended up with a picture of the Golden Gate bridge in the background with a larger outline of California layered over it. Next to California was my abstract representation of the coastline of Israel. I drew five hearts on my paper - two in California, two in Israel, and one in between. My two CA hearts, as one might guess, were placed in San Francisco and Stanford, while the Israeli ones were in Jerusalem and in Etzba HaGalil (the region of Northern Israel where I've worked for the past two summers). The one in the middle, was intentionally smaller, and was placed in Germany. I drew it smaller because I feel like Germany and I are still getting to know each other. The 12 weeks I've spent here have been incredible, and definitely warrant Germany having a huge place in my heart. That said, there is so much I still want to explore here - so much I want to learn and see. My language skills have, admittedly, improved, but my German is far from fluent. I've made wonderful friends here with my peers from Stanford, yet my German friends are much more distant. I drew my German heart smaller than the rest because I expect it to grow so much more in the coming years. I know that I will be back and I hope Deutschland is ready for Doria, Part II. Indeed, Berlin has become one of my homes and I look forward to see how both it and I change in the future.

Because I really can't believe that my time here has run out (I'm actually not even finished packing), I don't feel like I can clearly reflect on my experience in Berlin as a whole. For that, you'll have to stay tuned for later posts. What I can say, is that by the time you read this, I will likely be back in California. My winter break consists of a workshop with the Kibbutz Contemporary Dance Collective, numerous appointments, work, relaxing, and, of course, burritos.

I hope that my plans for the next three weeks will also include you, and that we can find time to sit down to see each other before you and I go in our separate directions once again. The Blackberry will be up and running in about 36 hours (hallelujah!) and you know how to find me, should you be so inclined to look.

With heartfelt appreciation for traveling with me throughout this incredible quarter,

Doria

Geschichte

In German, the word Geschichte means both "history" and "story." I don't really know why that fascinates me or surprises me, but I find this word and its two definitions represent my academic discipline very well. I am of the camp that in order to accurately understand history, you must understand people. Each of us writes our own story and, to me, historians are those who are willing to delve deeply into the lives of others, even though such stories are often marred by painful pasts, and act as editors -- sifters of memory and creators of narrative.

Today, I heard the stories of two Germans. I wanted to share them with you because I feel as though my encounters with these people today will be ones that I look back upon years from now, but for each for very different reasons.

As I was walking through a park on my way to school this morning, I saw an elderly gentleman and a woman, who I presume was his aide, walking towards me. I was prepared to smile and nod and brush past them rather quickly, as to make it to my warm classroom a little sooner. As we approached each other, I realized the man was holding out his hand to me. Rather startled, I shook his hand and proceeded to wish him a good morning. I am guessing he presumed I was an American, due to the Stanford sweatshirt I was wearing, and so he spoke to me in English right away. The conversation was pretty standard - I learned all about his children, his grandchildren and his great-grandchildren. His aide was very helpful in translating those rather tricky words like "toddler," for example. I told him about my studies and that I was from California on a study abroad program. Pleasantries. He asked me about Berlin, and I told him how much I really love it here. He was delighted to hear that. The man told me that he had lived in Dahlem (the neighborhood where my school is located) for a very long time. I asked him how long, and he replied, "I moved here, to Berlin, in 1935. And I'm 95 years old, so that's most of my life. It didn't look like this then, though..." After doing some quick mental math, I realized that this man was born in 1916 and moved to Berlin when he was almost my age. I am ashamed to tell you that I could no longer listen to his stories. For the rest of our conversation, all I wanted to know was what he wasn't telling me. What was he doing in 1935? What wasn't he doing? How many of his neighbors "disappeared?" Did he make them disappear? All I could hear was, "...it didn't look like this then..." I freaked out, made up that I was late for class, and dashed off through the park anxious to get inside and try to get rid of the chills that were running up my spine. I am not proud of my reaction. I wish I could tell you that I had the courage to ask him about his experiences during the war, but I was too afraid of what his answer might be. I will remember this story, though, because I felt how the gnawing pains of ignorance turned into unfounded anger against someone I had just met. I will remember how it felt to sit in class afterwards and desperately want to find the man, even though I have no idea what I would say to any of his possible responses. I will remember this story because I realized that knowing the truth, no matter how painful or horrific, is too important to be sacrificed by cowardice and self-preservation.

My second encounter occured while I was eating lunch at the cafe near the Center, working on my final presentation for my German conversation class. A middle-aged German woman sat down next to me, glanced at my computer, and proceeded to ask me whether I was a student at the F.U. (Freie Universität). I responded to her that I was not, in fact, I am an American and have been studying here in Berlin for the past few months. We ended up talking for about twenty minutes about everything from what I am studying (Geschichte - ok, Jüdische Geschichte, to be precise) to her life, her brother's English-speaking girlfriend, her children (Viktoria, 12 and Christoph, 9), her Dutch-speaking best friend, Viktoria's dance classes - I think you get the idea. She was delighted to hear that I have two Sprachpartners (Language buddies) and that I am finally reading German newspapers (I didn't mention that I don't get much beyond the headlines). After she finished her soup, she stood up to leave and said, "You truly are a German student!" and then she left. It took me a second to understand that she meant I was not a student of German, but a German student. It was only then that I realized that I hadn't spoken English the entire time.

I spoke with two strangers today. One conversation highlighted an unavoidable part of life here in Germany - the tragic past that doesn't remain in the past, it made me uncomfortable, and reminded me why it is so important to learn the whole story before crafting a narrative. The other made me feel more proud and more authentically German than I have ever felt. Both of these stories, though, are ones for the history book...

the other Germany(s)

Dear Friends,

I apologize. I've been too busy with my other "major" adventures to tell you about the ones I've had right here in Germany! #firstworldproblems

I have loved having the opportunity to get out of Berlin and explore a little more of my host country. In the past three weeks, I've been able to see Leipzig and Dresden - the two most populated cities near Berlin. Both cities are very beautiful and historical, and my visits there successfully reminded me that when one thinks of Germany, one cannot think only of Berlin. As I've heard many Germans say, Berlin is an anomaly. While I cannot attest to that statement per se, I have found that Berlin is unique among its German "peers." From my admittedly limited experiences in other German towns, Berlin is much more diverse in many senses of the word - in terms of people, art, food, architecture. That said, I've found it much easier to forget that Berlin is a German city. It is a very tourist-oriented city, and it's definitely possible to get around only speaking English. Berlin is no less authentic than these two cities, don't get me wrong; however, I found it really interesting and rather gemütlich (friendly, cozy, charming) to be truly immersed in a German setting that is at once so similar and different from my daily life here in Berlin.

I visited Leipzig back in the middle of November with three other friends of mine. We hopped on the regional train and got there in about two hours. The town was incredibly quaint and we had a great time going on the self-guided walking tour of the city. The Weihnachtsmarkt was just being set up and there were a lot of people mulling about the center of the city all trying to get the first Glühwein (German mulled wine sold at these Christmas markets) of the season. Leipzig is known for its churches and as the place where Bach conducted many an organ concert in the St. Thomas Church. We meandered about the town, admiring the beautiful buildings and enjoying lunch at Kartoffelhaus #1 (Potato House 1) and just taking it all in. Leipzig looks like this:

A large and in-charge art museum

The library at the Universität Leipzig

"Das Weiße Haus" (The White House) at Occupy Leipzig. Please note the large crowd.

I went to Dresden last Wednesday, and frankly, found it much more interesting than its Saxonian counterpart. My whole German conversation class (three of us) plus my Politics of Memory class (a different three) went with my German professor for the day, courtesy of Hans George Will (wealthy sponsor of the Berlin program). Those of us in the German conversation class were each delegated to choose a location in Dresden to give our final referat (formal, memorized presentation). My friends chose the New Synagogue and the Military History Museum, while I chose the Frauenkirche (Church of Our Lady). Because the Military History Museum is closed on Wednesdays - random - we did not go there, but we did visit the Synagogue and the Church. Both were so fascinating and impressive to see. The Church that I presented about was completely destroyed in the Allied bombing of the city in February 1945 and was essentially left in complete ruin until the end of the GDR government. After German unification, there were many massive grassroots efforts to rebuild the church and restore its pre-war glory. The church was only finished in 2005 - 60 years after its destruction. It is now a very prominent symbol of peace and reconciliation in German society. The church also raises issues in terms of remember the German suffering during the war. Many scholars question the validity or morality of memorializing the innocent German victims of the war, including a professor of mine who asked, "At what point is it no longer appropriate to acknowledge that, in comparison to the suffering the Germans inflicted, their (non-military) hardships are relatively minute?" I would love to have a long conversation with you about such issues in person, but not over the interwebs. Instead, here are some photos from Dresden, including the medieval Christmas market in the center of the town.

The dome of the Frauenkirche

Wines made from various fruits (from Strawberry to Lingonberry) at the medieval market

The New Synagogue of Dresden

Wooden Stacking Dolls at the Christmas Market

In light of all these adventures, I am not surprised by how quickly the time has flown. Next week, I'll be back in California (weather permitting, fingers triple crossed!) with only some gingerbread, stollen (traditional Christmas bread), and some photos to remind me of my non-Berlin adventures :)

Córdoba (part 2)

Ah, I see you've stuck with me! Here's the second part of my fantastic weekend...

Friday morning, the Berlin team presented our panel Islam as a Religious Minority in Germany: 50 Years after the Labor Recruitment Deal between the BDR and Turkey, followed by presentations from the Paris, Florence, and Moscow centers. The panels were completely interesting and engaging and it was such an incredible feeling to be amongst such talented peers. After the sessions, we had lunch in the Jewish quarter and began our tour of the city. We began with the Mezquita - the Great Mosque turned Cathedral. From there, we meandered through the streets to the Jewish quarter and saw the house where Maimonides might have lived and went to the Casa de Safrad; the Jewish museum and Syngagogue.

Courtyard at La Mezquita (Great Mosque/Cathedral)

Team Córdoba: Berlin!

My new friend, Moshe ben Maimonides. You may call him Rambam.

Friday evening, I went with my good friend Amy and my JaM (Jewish and Muslim Berlin) Professor to the syngagogue for Shabbat. We were greeted in the streets, as the sounds of the gitarra and tamblas floated over us welcoming us into the building. The synagogue is in an upstairs room of a house that has been occupied by Jewish residents since the 13th century. Our Shabbat family was a small one, we didn't have a minyan, but it was one that was beyond welcoming. The president of the synagogue taught us a beautiful Sephardic melody to L'cha Dodi and a London-based, Spanish-speaking Rabbi delivered his drash in English as to make us feel comfortable. The service concluded in the courtyard of the house, with an open ceiling so that we could see the stars. We blessed our wine and bread with melodies old and new, and thanked our new friends for an unforgettable experience. I later joined up with my Stanford friends for dinner and nighttime explorations around the city.

Saturday, we again had our morning sessions (this time from Oxford and Washington) and then, after a closing ceremony, headed to Seville. We toured the Santa Maria Cathedral, which interestingly enough, was also a Mosque. It was insanely beautiful and looked something like this:

The minnaret turned bell tower

View from the Bell Tower

After the tour, we got some free time in Seville. As I mentioned, all the European Centers were there, so it was wonderful to have the opportunity to be with some of my great friends from Stanford who are at other campuses. We did some shopping and sight-seeing with time for more tapas and churros con chocolate - which were actually the best things I've ever had. If you are taking anything away from this trip, let it be food and good friends :) - before heading back to Cordoba.

Sunday, we said goodbye to our friends who had early flights, and headed to Grenada to see La Alhambra. La Alhambra is an unbelievably gorgeous palace and fortress, originally built by Moorish rulers and then was occupied by Christian Kings until the 16th century (but don't quote me on that). It is a UNESCO World Heritage Site for a reason! Here is a peek, but my photos really don't do it any justice. Seriously. I also don't have pictures of the gardens, which are the most beautiful and romantic gardens I've ever seen.

The fortress from afar.

King Suleiman's symbol adorning the walls.

One of the many courtyards in the Palace.

View of the Sierra Nevadas (not Tahoe) from the top of the fortress.

After the conclusion of our tour in Grenada, we made our way back to Berlin via Madrid. The weekend was spectacular on so many levels - intellectually stimulating, professionally interesting, socially wonderful, culturally explorative and gastronomically delicious. I am so beyond thankful to have had this and every opportunity that I've been given these past few months.

Wishing you all love and joy as we enter into this holiday season,

Doria

Córdoba (part 1)

Hola Amigos! (That's about the extent of my Spanish...)

Last Thursday was the first time in 20 years that I have not been with my family in the Bay Area for Thanksgiving. Though nothing can replace my beloved family, I do believe that southern Spain was about as good an alternative as any, should I have to be abroad for the holidays.

For those of you who need to be caught up a bit, every academic year, the Bing Overseas Studies Program (BOSP) at Stanford holds a workshop for the European Centers. This year, the theme of the workshop was "Islam in the West, 711-2011: 1300 Years of Contact and (Mis)understanding." Select students from every European campus were invited to present a paper on some topic pertaining to Islam in the country in which they were studying. The Berlin team consisted of myself and eight peers, and my paper was entitled "Comparable Phenomena? Anti-Semitism and Islamophobia in Germany." In essence, in exchange for writing one paper about a topic in which I am genuinely very interested, I got a "free" trip to Spain for five days. Good deal? I think yes.

The Berlin team arrived in Madrid and made our way down to Córdoba early on Thursday morning. After settling into our hotel, we got the chance to wander around the beautiful city before the conference began. Córdoba was unbelievably gorgeous and the plentiful orange trees ripe with fruit gave the air a distinctly sweet and citrusy scent, which made it all too easy to settle into vacation mode. We explored quaint side streets and finally made our way to lunch - tapas, of course - before heading back to the El Conquistador hotel to prep for the afternoon sessions.

Orange trees everywhere!

Tapas?! Yes, please.

The workshop officially began with welcomes from people from Stanford at Stanford (what up, Vice-Provost Elam!) and a panel of the professors who accompanied us on the trip. The Madrid team provided us with a new perspective on the term Convivencia and then it was time for dinner! Once Helen Bing (of Bing Program fame) realized there are really no turkeys in Spain, had some brought over from the US for our Thanksgiving consumption. Ridiculous, yes, but a kind gesture nonetheless. I know that my mother, for one, will ask what I ate for Thanksgiving, so for your pleasure, I stole a menu from the evening.

Berenjenas con Miel de Cana: eggplant with sugarcane honey

Panche de Verduras Naturales a la Plancha: grilled vegetables

Pavo Asado con Frutos Secos, Salsa de Frutos Rojos y Boniatos Asados: turkey cordobese with dried fruit and nuts, and sweet potatos)

Tarta de Calabaza: pumpkin tart with cinammon scented whipped cream

YUM TIMES 50.

Despite the fact that everyone was too full to move after dinner, we were whisked away by the BOSP staff and went through the old city to watch a traditional Andalucian Flamenco performance. Having studied flamenco for a very short period of time, I loved being able to see short snippets of my training mixed in with the Spanish flair and general sassiness of these amazing dancers. After the show, we headed back to the hotel and I promptly crashed in preparation for my presentation the next morning.

See part 2 for the rest of the story!

a turkey tradition

The holiday season has just begun here in Germany. In Berlin alone, over 60Weihnachtsmärkte (Christmas markets) have opened this weekend. These markets range from a few wooden stands adorned with fake snow selling ornaments to elaborate mazes of booths with handmade artwork, traditional Christmastime delicacies (stollen, anyone?), and tons of activities for adults and kids alike. My host siblings have raved about these markets and have told me many times that this is their favorite season of the year. They explained to me that, even though they don't celebrate Christmas, these events are such a traditional part of life in Berlin that everyone can feel included.

When they asked me about my favorite traditions from this time of year, I definitely told them about Thanksgiving and how my family celebrates. I don't know why we sing the "Star Spangled Banner" before we eat, but we do. After dinner, my cousins and I always end up walking to a nearby elementary school to play, talk, and make room for dessert :) With all the talk of delicious food and crazy family gatherings, I forgot to mention that for a long time, I had another Thanksgiving tradition -- one that did not involve any turkey.

For a good portion of my childhood, I spent the week before Thanksgiving in a sweaty dance studio in the Mission, rehearsing for the annual ODC production of The Velveteen Rabbit. "VR" or "The Rabbit," as we called it, was my alternative to performing in "The Nutcracker" - I mean, I am a modern dancer, after all :) We always opened the day after Thanksgiving, which only made the holiday that much more exciting with all that anticipation building up for the next day.

10 years ago (what!?), I would have been in the Green Room, backstage at the Yerba Buena Center. The children's cast had our own dressing room with crazy lights, and the politics of who sat in which chair for hair and makeup amazes me to this day. The Kid Wrangler (the adult in charge of actually getting us ON the stage) would give us the "5 minutes to curtain" call, and we would scramble around on an adrenaline high until the adult, professional dancers called us onto the stage to participate in their pre-show rituals.

While I can no longer recall the choreography (although, give me a DVD of the show and about 10 minutes, I could probably give you your own performance), there are a lot of things that I am surprised to still remember about my VR days. I met some of my closest dance friends over 16 years ago at our audition, and we performed together for years. A group of us used to walk over to SFMOMA in between shows on Saturdays for lunch and we thought we were superadult because our parents sat at a different table. During downtime in the shows, I read my favorite book, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, for the first time in the Green Room. I learned how to play chess and mancala. I realized that sitting in school isn't the only way to learn. Despite the fact that I got a lot of grief from my teachers about missing school to perform, my parents let me dance anyway. My experiences during that period - of professional productions, exploring the "life of a dancer," being in San Francisco, being on stage, learning that rehearsal paid off - were some of my earliest reasons for loving dance (until I could appreciate technique, different artistic styles, etc. etc.). Although I obviously cannot say this with complete certainty, I am fairly positive that my life would be very, very different had I not danced around in that theater.

Even though I have danced in, seen, or worked at The Velveteen Rabbit over 100 times (literally), I still highly recommend it as a lovely afternoon for the wonderful 5-12 year olds in your life. If you go, I was one of those kids in the white pajamas totally blissed out over being on stage and performing with some amazing artists, even if they are in bunny costumes.

Dad takes on Berlin!

This past weekend provided me with the following challenge: How does one condense all there is to experience in Berlin into three days? My father flew into Berlin for the weekend and in addition to showing him some of my favorite things about the city, we also wanted to do somethings that were new and experience them together.

Some highlights of the weekend included:

• Museums and Art: The Pergamon, the Jewish Museum, c/o Berlin (a photography museum), Zentrum Judaicum, KW (a modern art museum), and gallery hopping on Auguststraße
• Sights and activities: the East Side Gallery, the Neue Syngagogue, hiking to the top of the Französische Dome, Gendarmemarkt, Alexanderplatz, the Brandenburger Tor, walks down Unter den Linden, and the Staatsballet's rendition of "Oz: The Wonderful Wizard,"
• Shopping and restaurants that are not normally in my 12 Euro/day budget (a.k.a, all restaurants with entrees over 8 Euro - a.k.a all restaurants that actual people would want to eat in).
• Plenty of time to chill/walk/ride the S-Bahn with my Abba.

The fact that my Dad had never been to Germany before made it that much cooler to be able to share with him some of my favorite things to do and the more interesting things I've experienced. It was interesting, though, taking on the role of tour guide rather than tourist. It was exciting to know where we were going and how to get there without looking at a map. It felt good to be able to talk about a certain memorial, event, or museum because I had already studied, seen, or discussed it. It was surprising to me how proud I felt to show off Berlin as "my city" - but it was a really good surprise :)

I'm now entering the last weeks of my program and will be on a plane back to California in about 25 days. Being with my Dad definitely made me realize how much I miss my family and friends, but also made me think about everything I have grown to love about Berlin. I know that I'll be ready to come home, but I also know that some day over winter break and many times in the years to come, I'll be itching to take the U-Bahn to my favorite cafe and watch the streetlights come on over Friedrichstraße. I guess what I'm trying to say, is that I don't really see my "two lives" (Berlin and San Francisco) as mutually exclusive in the same way that I did a few months ago. In the same way that my upbringing and friends in the Bay influence my life Berlin, so too will my experiences in Germany permeate and tint my adventures in San Francisco and beyond.

I wish that all of you could come visit me here, but having the Pops was pretty darn awesome.

Here are some photos of the weekend:

Dad in front of Humboldt University - where Max Planck taught :)

The Ritter Sport factory!! $.79 cents/bar? Make your own CUSTOM bar? HELL YEAH.

Just chilling.

East Side Gallery

Deutsch 101: Grammatik

Dedicated to my linguist friends.

At this point, I am sure that some of you are tired of hearing me complain about how German is a very difficult language for me to learn. I have determined that this is because of a) the grammar/syntax, b) HELLA rules, c) the dreaded "cases," which I guess technically would go under grammar, but I'm hoping you get where I'm going with this. Hopefully, I have devised an activity to help you all better understand what I am talking about, so the next time I make a bit of a Geschrei (there isn't really a good translation for this word, but my favorite professor here uses it all the time. The best I can think of is "balagan" but that is Hebrew. Literally, "a scream," basically it means chaos/ a big deal, etc.) over my next German test.

Here is an excerpt of a journal entry I wrote for my German class. Note: You can google translate, but just wait until you finish the whole post, ok?

Ich wünsche, daß ich Computer verstehen könnte. Ich denke, daß die Technik etwas sehr wichtiges ist, aber mein Gehirn funkionert nicht auf diese Weise. Ich muss meine Wissenschaft oder Ingenieuren Freunden anrufen mir mit meinem Computer Probleme zu helfen....

Here is how that passage would read if I were to translate it word by word with the same punctuation and capitalization (for effect, you know):

I wish, that I Computers understand could. I think, that Technology something very important is, but my brain does not work on this way. I must my Science or Engineering Friends call me with my Computer Problems for to help.

Finally, this is what I would say to you in English:

I wish that I could understand computers. I think that technology is really important, but my brain doesn't work that way. I have to call my sciencist and engineer friends to help me with my computer problems.

What you may have noticed is that all nouns are capitalized in German. You may also have noticed that the infinitve goes at the end of a sentence, except when there is a modal verb involved. What else can we learn from this exercise?

What you may not have noticed, in addition to the different adjective endings and the odd placement of commas, is that there are 5 billion ways to change the article of a noun. First one must determine whether you need a definite or indefinite article. Then, the random purposeful decision of which article to use depends on the case (nominative, accusative, dative, or genative), the gender (feminine, netural, or masculine), the quantity (singular or plural), and possibly possesion (personal pronouns). Once you've gone through the rolodex of the 5 billion (really more like 20) different possible articles and found the right one, German is a piece of cake, as long as you don't care about syntax!

I am trying to memorize the following two tables because I have them glued into every notebook I have here and would be so much more helpful if they were just magically implanted into my brain.

German Definite Articles
	masculine	feminine	neuter	plural
Nominative case	der	die	das	die	the
Accusative case	den	die	das	die	the
Dative case	dem	der	dem	den	to the
Genitive cases	des	der	des	der	of the

German Indefinite Articles
	masculine	feminine	neuter
Nominative case	ein	eine	ein	a, an
Accusative case	einen	eine	ein	a, an
Dative case	einem	einer	einem	to a, to an
Genitive cases	eines	einer	eines	of a, of an

I invite you to teach yourself German so that we can converse auf Deutsch (don't even get me started on prepositions) upon my return to the States. I keeping thinking/praying/wishing that one day I will wake up and simply speak German - don't worry, if that ever happens you'll know, as I will sing it from the rooftops!! Alas...I now solemnly swear to never complain about German again.*

*out loud.