food, cooking, surviving.

So, I'm not a very good cook. Compound that with the fact that grocery shopping here looks very different than in the states. Add the lack of desire to stock a nice kitchen when you're only going to be somewhere for a few months. You get lots of pizza and döner take out.

However, there are a few things that I can make tastily with some variation: pasta with just about any combination of vegetables and tomato sauce; tiny spicy hamburgers (without buns); fajitas with either chicken or ground beef; eggs; things that come from cans.

With this limited background I have been attempting to prepare food for myself (which, btw, is much more difficult for one person than for ten). There have been some minor victories. For example, I can pan fry potatoes like nobody's business. I now know how many grams of cheese slices I am capable of consuming in one week. I have discovered the joys of zucchini and plain white rice. But my greatest victory thusfar, since I've mostly been spending a lot of time cooking individual foodstuffs with very little attention to spices and even less to making sure they fit together, was this soup.

Naturally, I paired it with potatoes, because it's what I love the most, but I only had one left, so I also ate some bread with this deliciousness. This was the first time I got thin-cut potatoes cooked through but not burnt, as well (I usually cook chunky potatoes). I took a regular ole can of tomato soup, added zucchini slices and some leftover gnocchi from the day before, and voila! it was delicious, if I do say so myself. And warm! Oh, boy, was it warm!

For those of you who like recipes, and ingenuity, I'm going to start adding stuff like this, so that you can try to eat like me--poor and away from home!

Kat's Rainy Day German Tomato Soup
1 can plain tomato soup
1 medium tomato
1 small zucchini, sliced not-that-thin
1/2 cup leftover gnocchi
1/2 cup lowfat milk
salt
white pepper
oregano (to taste)

Let tomato soup (not thinned) and diced fresh tomato simmer over medium heat. Heat sliced zucchini covered over low heat with a splash of water (just enough to keep it from burning) and some butter for 5 minutes or until water is almost evaporated. Add gnocchi, salt, white pepper, and milk. Cook until gnocchi is hot. Add to tomato soup. Let cook all together 2 minutes, flavoring as desired.

Serves: 2

TRY: substituting leftover rice, pasta, or potatoes for gnocchi!

kindertage

Mann o Mann am I tired!

Monday - Today we had Kindertage up at Sankt Annen. It was kind of like vacation bible school, only German. Our theme was "Kunterbunt," which means both "chaotic" and "colorful" at the same time. So we talked about creation and how there were all these different creatures created, and how we're the body of Christ and we all have different talents, and etc. etc. Anyone who ever went to Sunday school ever probably knows what went down. I'm sure it was fun--at least, the kids all seemed to enjoy it. Only, here's the deal. The dialect here, is super mumble-some. Then even more people mumble because they're too lazy to talk right (which is not an attack on this region. It's true of people everywhere). Then they speak fast. And their kids speak faster and more mumbley than they do. And kids don't pay attention when you say "oh, I'm sorry, what was that? I'm not a native German speaker so you're going to have to slow down." They either repeat themselves just as fast and unclearly as before, look at you like you have three heads, or go ask someone else for whatever it is they need (it's usually a kleenex). My brain is just about ready to explode.

I know I said I would dish, but I just can't. I even tried to post something exciting three times today already. I just... can't. I'm going to watch scrubs and fall asleep.
xoxo

i'm sorry. seriously.

I know that I promised all of you I would be updating this blog when I arrived. I'm sorry that I didn't do a good job of that. I will try to do better in the next month.

Yep, that's right. I've been here about a month, now. I won't lie to you. It's been a rough transition. Although we knew, statistically, that there were very few young adults running around Eisleben, before I came, nothing could have prepared me for the reality of that experience. EVERYONE leaves after graduating or finishing their practical training. That's not true. Most people leave. The others resigned themselves at the age of 16 to a life financed by generous German unemployment benefits and alcoholism. After living in a college town my entire life, this is a world I never imagined. It's difficult to find things to talk about with the majority of the people I meet. The students from the youth group are a welcome change--as Gymnasiumschüler, they all expect to go to college--it's weird that the closest thing I have to friends are all 17 years old. True, German kids grow up faster. But then when you sit in a bar with them, and they talk about their 18th birthday party like it was yesterday, not because they're swept up in nostalgia, but because it actually WAS yesterday... and then, inevitably, someone mistakes me for a 19 year old and I have to say, no, actually, I'm 22. You wouldn't believe the blank stares. What the hell is a 22 year old doing in Eisleben hanging out with us?

I guess I should address my apartment somewhat as well. After I got over the jet lag, this apartment started to creep me out. I mean, you saw it. It's huge. I've spent the last four years sharing a tiny room with someone. Before that, I lived with my parents. On top of that, I hated the feeling that no one would be looking for me immediately if anything happened. The people who've lived here for a while all talk about Eisleben like it's the perfect town. People walk around at night by themselves, down alleys with no lamps (granted, it does get dark at 5pm, so you don't exactly have an option all the time). But no matter what I did, I was creeped out. So, my unbelievably awesome "host parents" that didn't really sign up for host parent duty let me sleep upstairs in the attic for about a week. I've been back downstairs for 3 1/2 weeks now, and I'm doing considerably better. But this house is nearly 350 years old. It creaks. It whispers. And I'm alone. It's a weird feeling.

I went to Erfurt last week to check things out for the spring break trips. I also visited the son of the people I live with, Philip, who is finishing up his studies there. He's becoming an elementary school teacher. I had a lot of fun, and I promise I'll write more details soon.

This week we have a vacation bible school type thing going on up at St. Anne's, and Thursday I'm going to Wittenberg to scope out the city tour situation. Next Sunday I'm going back to Köthen to visit with Steffi and Franzi. I cannot even explain my excitement.

Tonight I hosted youth group at my house, since Scott is on vacation. Since I was missing home, I hosted my own little pancake supper (which is a fat tuesday tradition in my family/at CU campus ministry). It went fairly well, although all the Germans wanted to eat jam on their pancakes instead of syrup and I had to eat all the bacon myself (YEAH I FOUND BACON IN GERMANY WHOOT!) because they refused to mix sweet and salty at dinner time... Oh, German culinary rules. Will you never fail to ruin my parties?
Anyway, the point is that I'm really tired, so I'm going to go to sleep now to get ready for our last day of Kindertage. I will do my best to write more tomorrow, or at the very least this weekend.
xoxo

ps. THANKS to everyone who's sent me mail. I got 5 letters today and was so excited, I ran upstairs to show the Quenzels. They think I'm weird, but I say, keep 'em comin!

ho-o-o-o-oly crap!

So, I'm here. I'm speaking German. I have an apartment and I cook meals for myself. I went to the Metzgerei (kinda like a butcher, but with lots more gellatinous options) by myself today and I bought some kind of animal product (yep, not sure what it was) that I ate and it has not yet made me sick. I have discovered I can buy bread and vegetables--in German--and even though it quickly becomes evident that I'm an Ausländer, I get what I need. I am starting to encounter Mansfelder (the God-awful dialect of German that's spoken here) without getting completely confused. I registered with the city and got a checking account today, too. Gah, crazy stuff. Anyway, I'm kinda tired and I still have stuff to do tonight. I'll post again when I can. Meanwhile, if you want to get in touch with me, you can email me and I'll send you my snail mail address.

departure #1

John left yesterday. John, one of my best friends and the first of my close friends to go home for break, left without saying goodbye. I didn't really feel like I was leaving until I realized he's back home, that I didn't get that last hug I'd been banking on. This morning, Mitch, who lives across the hall, and Morgan, my roommate, left. Later today Brez and Matt and Stu will go, and Shawn tomorrow. Emily and Kelly are here until Monday, but Emily's already packed everything, and my parents come on Sunday, so I doubt I'll see the two of them much after today. Panic.

I have a paper due at 3 pm. I've been procrastinating more than usual. I can't decide if it's because I know this particular professor is more flexible than some others, or because I know this is the last thing I have to do. Even the verb "have to" is relative--I don't need to pass this class in order to graduate. Mostly, it's loyalty to Dr. Madden that's keeping me even minimally motivated.

Tomorrow I'm giving a presentation on my trip to Tanzania at Second Hour of Quaker Meeting. I still have to prepare for that, as well. I'm worried about going over there for the last time ever. More than anywhere but Preston, Meeting has been my home. Those people have been so supportive and loving... how do I say thank you for that?

I thought this post would be cathartic, but it's really just making me more nervous. I'll write later, when I don't have a paper deadline breathing down my neck.

the start of my final finals

Well, it's that time, I suppose. I turned in my final project for my anthro class this morning, tomorrow is my film exam, Wednesday I turn in my writing portfolio, Thursday is linguistics, and Saturday a term paper for Irish lit... That all sounds hectic when it's written in one sentence like that, but I'm not stressed at all. I feel really, creepily calm about it, actually.

I started packing last night--mostly the unnecessary things I shouldn't have even brought down here, but packing all the same. I have my cap and gown and dinner reservations for Monday night. Things are coming to a close. I don't really know what to say other than that.

Seriously?

I keep wondering if this is really happening.

I graduate in 18 days--which is now closer to two weeks than three--and in just over one month I am getting on a plane and flying to another country and staying there for some time. I'll have a job and no homework. I'll have an apartment and no roommate. I'll be 22. There will be snow on the ground and I'll be much more than an hour and a half from an ocean. I will primarily be speaking a language that my parents don't understand more than five words of. I will pay for things in Euros (and I will want to cry when I think about how many dollars each one is worth). When I walk out of my room in the morning there won't be these people around me that have been there for the last two/four/seven/twenty years. I'll have to find a new coffee shop to hang out in--if there even is a coffee shop to hang out in. Will I sit in a bar instead? In a church? In a museum?

On the one hand I'm grateful to be able to leave all the things I've been bitching about for as long as I can remember--can we talk about the fact that it's almost December and I can still wear short sleeves outside?--I'm glad the break will be complete. I won't have to walk that line between being a graduate and still wishing I could go to college parties or worrying about bumping into people in five points who will ask "Wait, I thought you graduated?" I've been watching my friends who finished last spring (and those who should've finished years ago but still haven't) sit around, unable to get real jobs with their liberal arts Bachelor degrees and I'm glad I don't have to do that, to walk into a temp agency just to pay the rent. But they're all still here, in Columbia, together, trying to make it work and to figure out what it means that there's no more papers or tests or projects to do. Will I have to do that on my own? When I call home on Wednesday nights at 10 pm, will my Preston friends be too busy eating cereal to answer? Will they understand that I know exactly what time it is and yeah, that's why I called from my quiet apartment where I can't eat Lucky Charms because Germans believe in healthy breakfasts? Will they think about me over spring break in their flip flops and sun dresses and laugh because they know I'm still wearing my parka?

This post feels self-indulgent and I'm sorry. I think I thought it was some kind of game until now. That I would wake up one morning and we would all look at each other and go "PSYCH!" and laugh because, no, of course I'm not leaving, we'll be together forever... The truth is, all I've ever been is a student. All I've ever known is eating dinner with the same people every night, ordering the same coffee every day, climbing to the third floor of the same building for the last three years. I'm worried I won't be able to forget all those things I wish I could be doing. Maybe I'm more worried someone else will too easily forget that I did those things with them.