I simply stared at her as she stood in the doorway.

To cut a long, long story short - some drunk guy managed to get into her flat through her flatmate's window (as he left it open and they are on the ground level) and stole lollipops, alcohol, and a hair straightener, also breaking several mugs and trashing her flatmate's room on his way.

MANY, many apologies for having delayed this blog entry. However (as you will see) I've been pretty busy, all with meeting my Professor and spending 5 days with him, his family, and three other students on a crazy trip to Koblenz, starting orientation sessions at the Fachhochshule Gelsenkirchen, and - a brief trip to the infamous city of Cologne to watch a live gig!

But it is nice to know that I've got such a great audience - thanks y'all! Also a big thanks to Rafael Dias Sandoval, another Erasmus student from sexy Brazil, for sharing my blog on his site - check out his blog: http://enfimnaalemanha.wordpress.com/

Anyways - back to my adventures in Deustchland :-) So, Kim decided to change residences and is now living close to university. She is fine now, living with a bunch of Romanians, a Belgian, and a lively American girl - very intercontinental!

The Trip to Koblenz

Last Tuesday. All us JPR (Journalism and Public Relations) students go to our tutor's office. Our tutor is a tall, bespectacled German with long teeth, twinkly eyes, and hair that does not look unlike small strings of spaghetti. Amiable, and bordering the eccentric, he goes by the name Professor Doctor Rainer Janz.

Striding into his office and winking at us, he announces that he will be picking us up that very day at 2pm to stay with him and his family in the city of Koblenz, until Sunday.

All of us being the civil beings that we are, we just raised our eyebrows at each other and agreed to be dragged to Koblenz for the week.
Spread out over the sides of the river Rhine, Koblenz is a fascinating city. Picturesque, with quaint white houses roofed with red tiles, it looks typically German. Greenery is everywhere, and the trees' long branches look as though they are reaching out and cuddling the city. Cobbled, clean roads with musicians on every corner, here artists have a real job; to make the city beautiful, and boy, do they take their job seriously! Castles dot the riverbanks, and a gigantic, 37m high bronze statue of Kaiser Wilhelm on a horse stands proudly at the confluence of the Rhine and the Moselle (it is known as the Deustche Eck).

We were well and truly exhausted by the end of the trip. Basically, we did a fortnight's worth of sightseeing in five days. Prof. Janz, being German, planned everything from dawn till dusk - and insisted that his plan be carried out exactly...

We went to a Celtic festival - which was amazing!

The little wooden stalls presenting different wines, spices, perfumes from the Orient, leather boots and sheepskin cloth, a robed woman with long nails, wearing lots of jewellery and a variety of coloured scarves, eyed us up and offered to tell our fortune; inhaling the smell of Auszogne, these delicious fried pastries topped with stewed apple. But - best of all - was the music. The rhymthic bass beat of the drum, coupled with wailing bagpipes, a mandolin, and a flute - really and truly took me to another era - one really got the feeling that they were living in a time where people showered only once a year!

We also crashed his wife's work party (by invitation) where we had free alcohol - and I discovered my love for 'radler' :P and also danced like crazy - the musicians playing enjoyed our liveliness so much that the singer stuck the mike in front of us at one point during 'I Will Survive' (those who know me will know what a coincidence this is!!) and we sang our faces off....all in all it was a pretty good time.

We went to a SchmetterlingeGarten - a large greenhouse/garden with a 1001 tropical butterflies fluttering around us - landing on our clothes and hair even!Snow White herself as she walked through the forest couldn't have been more enchanted! We also visited two castles and climbed up this wooden structure simply designed to give one a panoramic view of Koblenz, with the Rhine and the Mosel running through its heart. I also watched with fascination as our dear Professor enthusiastically attacked a typical German dish called Currywurst, which is basically a grilled sausage sliced up into little pieces with tomato sauce and liberally added amounts of curry powder on top...I could just imagine my brother's mouth watering....

And, More Recently...

So last week we started orientation sessions. I enjoyed getting to know the campus of the Fachhochschule; I like the modern-yet-somewhat-unkept feel it has, and the atmosphere of students studying (they have exams right now) in its hallways. I was pretty pleased to find out that the canteen has vegetarian food - cheap and delicious, too. Although, they serve the veggie burger with a generous helping of bechamel cheese sauce so thick, that after five minutes it has solidified once again into cheese. But it is pretty yummy.

Frustrated is the only word to describe how I felt with the language barrier (EVERYTHING was in German - all I could say was "Scheiße!"). So you can imagine my horror, when, each and every single JPR student had to STAND UP and introduce themselves....my heart hammering in my chest, I stood up:
"Hallo, mein name ist Natasha, aus Malta, und ich bin zwanzig Jahre alt. And I apologise, but I've used up all my German for today."

Laughs. Phew...and I continue in English. Luckily everyone understands English (unless I speak at my normal pace!) so I was fine. Made friends with a few fellow students, in particular two very tall Germans. One of them does radio broadcasting,is also a sound engineer and a highly talented musician, the other one... well, he looks like an RAF pilot who walked out of 1942, and he does fire-fighting in his free time :) either way, I thoroughly enjoyed last Friday, when they were kind enough to invite me to watch a live gig (with the musician guy on the drums...again I think of my brother!!)in Cologne.

This weekend, spending most of it with the Erasmus students (who are really and truly a kickass bunch of people - everyone is smart, friendly, and really funny!). Next week will be visiting a dear friend in Northern Germany to see his hometown, and in the middle of the week, another dear friend will come to visit. All in all, life is not too bad.

Over the past month that I've been living here in Germany, I've really had a few dark days... when it really hits you that you are in this foreign country, with its strange ways of doing things and strange people, and all the people you love and who love you are far away... yes, you can call/facebook/skype, but it's not the same of course. But then, on a seemingly grey morning in the middle of the week, I woke up and went to to open the curtains. And I discover that God had left me a present outside my window.

I smile, and feel thankful in my heart. Because everything is going to be just fine.

Day 5.

Sitting at the window of the kitchen, sipping fresh juice in the sun, I am enjoying the light breeze sifting through my hair. The weather is incredibly gorgeous, so warm and welcoming, yet fresh at the same time. No suffocating,thick humid heat.
I'm in a T-Shirt and flip-flops. Birds chirp and flutter around the branches of the large oak tree opposite, and Sangpil waves at me from his kitchen window, then continues to bustle about with his gourmet cooking (ramen noodles, presumably).

I feel much better now, compared to these last 24 hours.

Yesterday. Brief trip to Düsseldorf. Kim, the only other Erasmus student from Malta, wasn't feeling well. Neither was I. Recovering from a cough, and both of us developing a headache, we spent two hours wandering around aimlessly in the city. It was beautiful though, and we did enjoy looking round, especially the marketplace, with all the gorgeous flowers and fruit and vegetable with a fantastic range of colours and smells. We spent at least 45mins trying to find a toilet, though. Do Germans not pee so often? Anyways, we couldn't find a public bathroom so we snuck into a cafe.

Later, once we parted, I was alone in my room. Wasn't feeling too good. Had eaten this danish pastry thing which tasted good at the time but made my stomach upset later. Was having mixed feelings, I was tired but couldn't sleep - didn't know what to do so emailed a dear friend of mine then spoke to him on Skpe and felt much better. Went for a walk, then made friends with some German students and we went out to a party. Met my flatmate Patrick too. He seems pretty...nice.

The party seemed a little tame at first, but after an hour everyone loosened up; there was free beer, and even those who weren't smoking pot directly got a little high from passive smoking for sure! The Dj at the party was really good, and I noticed that there were way more guys than women. I rather enjoyed all the attention I got - it was quite different from the usual 'hamalli' whistling and attempting to grab your rear end, but it was basic conversation and offering to buy you a drink. Made friends with a 25year old guy called Jan who spoke English very well.

Anyways, I get back in a far better mood than I left. I fall asleep, switching my cellphone off to that the alarm won't come on in the morning. I wake up around 9am. I switch it on again to check the time. A message immediately arrives.

"Tasha, pls when u wake up come to my flat, I have a problem!"
Kim.

I text back "I just woke up. What happened?"

A minute later, she texts "Open up please, I'm at your door."

I shake off the sleep and go to open.
She is standing there, and I see the expression on her face.

"What the hell happened????"

She shakily looks and me and mutters;

"Someone broke into my flat."

Wilkommen in Gelsenkirchen!!

This morning I woke up to the sound of the speeding on the Autobahn.

Apart from that, its relatively quiet. Tall green trees dance in the cold wind outside my bedroom windows, which are big enough for a German to climb through. Not that one would manage, since I'm on the 3rd floor of one of the apartment blocks at the student residence of Wodan Strausse.

By my second day, I already had two invitations to visit people around Deutschland - the first from our Professor (who invited my colleague and I to stay with him and his family in Koblenz this coming week), and to visit a wonderful couple in Munster, who I made friends with on the plane - they were such lovely people, going out of their way to show us to the train station, procure the cheapest possible tickets for us, helping us with our luggage and telling us all sorts of useful things (like about the carnival in Cologne). We both felt very much blessed to have received help the moment we arrived in a strange country!

So far, Sangpil, a fellow student from South Korea has been taking us round to get all our administrative duties done. With a wide-set face, slanted eyes, and the slightest of dimples, Sangpil wears glasses and donns his black hair in a tall spiked mohawk. He spoke 'Engrish' with a big smile and in a highly amiable manner. Yesterday along with the other Maltese girl and two Brazilian boys, Rafael and Rafael (yes, they do have the same name) we somehow managed to get the basics done, even getting a chance to look round Buer.

Getting overly excited at the cute little bakeries that dot the streets, I bought some Schwarzbrot- a small, dark brown, box-shaped loaf of bread that is so hard that, were you to swing your shopping bag at someone during an outbreak of rage, you would surely bring upon them a concussion of the severest kind (this morning I made a makeshift 'hobz biz-zejt' with it for breakfast this morning)
In the evening, I went out with a friend I met in Malta and her two German friends. One of them was skinny and extremely tall (exactly 2m, he told me proudly) and the other was a little taller than myself and very witty - I laughed so much when my friend said she was surprised at how much bigger the general bosom size is in Malta; at which I promptly asked how the bosom is referred to in Deustch - at which they replied "die Titten".

More to come soon.

:)

Das Mädchen ist in Deutschland*...or soon to be, anyways...

(*the girl is in Germany*)

The girl on the rock... will officially be leaving the rock for half a year.

No more lethargic heat, dusty air, inefficient everything, pastizzi, flip-flops, family 'iklas' (dinners), or the smell of sun-block-drenched tourists. All the things that remind me of Malta, things that remind me of home.

I feel (as Asia-Boy aptly called it) as though I'm in limbo.

Torn between excitement, and a knotted feeling of dread in my stomach. One of my greatest dreams, to live and study abroad.....is actually coming true. Holy Scheiße!

I've been trying to prepare; started listening to German music, am attempting to read 'Der kleine Prinz' (the little Prince), practise a little Deustch with the German customers at work. But nothing can really prepare you for the fact that you're going to be living alone, for half a year, in a strange country.

We'll see. In the meantime, 9 days to Düsseldorf.

I have a hundred and one (einsundhundert?) things to do. Stuff to buy, pack, check, fix, prepare.

A large cardboard box and a small one lean against the wall near my half-naked desk, both fiercely taped shut. Books.

The rest of my room looks like 9/11.

Random Thoughts...

"I'm a creep.....I'm a weirdo....what the hell am I doing here?"

Listening to Radiohead in my small dim room, on a rock in the middle of the Mediterranean ocean, I am thinking about my future. My dreams. I have a quote on my mind by Houston Spencer - "If your dreams don't scare you every time you think about them, then they're not big enough". I dream about New York City, the skyscrapers brushing the sky, touching the stars. I'm scared, but I too want to soar through the heights, feel a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction fill my entire being. I would love, more than anything else in the world, to work in New York City as a journalist. Was searching online today and found a three month internship with NBC.

I want this more than anything else in the world.

A few months ago, I was so confused. I didn't know where to go, what I wanted to with myself or my life. I might as well have hurled myself off a cliff for all I cared.
But not anymore.

Maybe this is kind of tedious for a post. It is late and I have to wake up around 5am tomorrow. I also have a news report to write and a feature about students at University. But I just felt like commenting that I feel happy and determined; because I know which way the wind is blowing, at least for now.
So, I will adjust my sails. Smoothly, over the rhythmic waves, my ship will sail,
flowing over the golden liquid path to the sun.

8/04/2010

An article for the University of Malta magazine - The Insiter

On the Art of the Fresher…

How intriguing, you might think at first glance. An article about the art of being fresh; by a freshman. Inspired by missing lectures, acting cool, overpriced books, and being confused about everything University-related in general.

The initially shiny, happy, squeaky flood of new students, by the end of our second week, have now dwindled into shadows of our former overzealous selves. Now we have begun to get used to a lifestyle where we are coffee addicts, fast food junkies, and eSIMS whores. Like crazed birds we flutter to our lectures at the break of dawn, if only to satisfy the lustful power that some lecturer enforces upon us, should we be tardy. Bus drivers and schedules take no heed of our frantic need to be in time, companies insist on guiltlessly parting us with our hard-earned cash, and the pocket money we get on our smartcard. We must stuff our brains with deadlines, to-do lists, and acronyms; long gone are the seemingly endless days of a sky-blue summer, and in empathy, these past two weeks the dismal weather has reflected our newfound state of being.

Quickly one learns that; the more enthusiastic you are about learning at university; the more it is going to cost you, and not just in terms of the fifteen euro that you’ll be charged for wanting to take up extra credits. We end up studying biology when we chose psychology, or chemistry when we chose physics. Sitting in a hall where more than two hundred and fifty souls dwell on hard wooden benches, or on random chairs, or even on the floor when no other option is available; breathing the stench of other students, sweat, cigarettes, caffeine. The humid and stuffy air smothers us in the lecture halls where the air-conditioners are broken, or so ancient that, if forced to awaken from their age-old slumber, will cough up dust and cobwebs in a rebellious protest.

We are so new, so fresh, still getting used to feeling our way around the buildings and its lecturers; unlike us, they have been here for several generations, and may have even known the likes of our once-adolescent parents, donkey’s years ago. The library is relatively modern, apart from the fact that it too, like some of our class destinations, are much too small to accommodate the increasing numbers of us newcomers.

There is a contrast between us, you see, a clash , if you will, between something so fresh and not diminished by the passage of time, and something so matured, so well-preserved by the brine of its era. We must learn to adapt to this environment, as freshers, we must cunningly conform to this primordiality; in order to be accepted and welcomed into this society of higher education. No more shouts of “we don’t need no education”, no more questioning, away with thinking! We now must practice the art of freshers, to be complacent and apathetic, till we, too, become finely preserved cheese, mature sips of wine. Mr. Philip Leone Ganado in vain tries to spark interest in us about KSU’s oh-so-secret financial profits; his curiosity is regarded as nought but an unfortunate fart in a sacredly silent lecture, to be laughed at and dismissed.

So I too must become a master of this ancient art; I must keep silent and accept the infallible knowledge of the lecturers, in hope that I may one day have the chance to reel it off by heart in hope of getting a degree. I will become a faithful follower of UoM, a disciple of the Maltese educational system, stifling my insatiable curiosity and my endless questioning. I will write down each and every single word of my lectures and regurgitate it during examinations, never offering my personal thoughts or opinions.

That is, of course, until the next issue of the Insiter.

Natasha Singh - 14/10/10