Düsseldorf, Germany: Day 11

One word that could summarize this day would be: aftermath.

I barely emerged from my bed with a headache, (what felt like a) fever, a cold (hence, shivers) and a stomach ache. Not once did I vomit, for which I thank my enormous apetite and generously-sized dinner before going out on that faithful Wednesday night.  

I woke up at about six or seven in the afternoon following a 6AM bedtime. Sensible.

I didn't really wake up myself, actually. I was woken up to the voice of my host mother calling me for dinner. DINNER?! But I just woke up! 

I complied and came downstairs with my still-dirty-from-the-night-before-but-not-really-dirty-but-just-smelly shorts and the plain white t-shirt I wore underneath my Abercrombie button down that helped me blend into the German public's very American taste in clothing. (Not very difficult)

I felt like crap. Neglected to put my contacts in and felt sick all over. I could barely comprehend the course of the conversation led by my host mother and her daughter. 

All I remember is going to bed almost as soon as we finished dinner and not much else happened that day.

I thought with agony about the next day of school I'd have to go to. 

Nicht mein stolzsten Tag während dieser Trip! 

Düsseldorf, Germany: Day 10

After a truly long hiatus (yes, I realize this) I'm here to tell you about my experiences in Germany! Homework, sleeping, food, friends and working out (usually in that order) come before this blog! 

I began this day like I did any day at 7:30 and went to class. During our 30-minute break splitting our 4-hour class, a number of my classmates asked me if I wanted to go out that night with then given there was a holiday going on the following day. I complied, thinking "Hey, of course, I'd love to socialize and get to know more people!"

After returning from class, I took my daily nap. (And I swear, there's something thoroughly screwed up with my sleep schedule because I always seem to need to nap to offset my nightly sleep: whether it's at home, college or Germany!)

I was invited by my friends to come to the Altstadt with them at 8:00pm. I prioritized extra nap time and a large, improvised dinner, assuming it was going to be a long and "fun" night. I was very right on both accounts. 

Instead, I met them outside the Heinrich-Heine McDonald's at 10pm. There, I was introduced to a couple of Erasmus University students from France. 

Only some of the great people I hung out with that night. 

More shenanigans ensues.

From there, we went straight to a nearby art museum to mingle. My friend Hendra, was steadfast in filling Marlon and my cups with vomit-inducing 13€ vodka as soon as we took even the slightest of sips. Predictably, good times ensued and disgusting flavors overwhelmed our taste buds. 

Time passed, and we were soon on our way to a club. The enormous line surrounding the outside of the club served to separate our massive party as Jooho and I went to the famous black wall to drain our bladders. 

As we went back to the line, our friends were no where to be found. Jooho tried to call them, but it was no use. 

We waited patiently in the line leading to the strobe-lit club for about an hour or two. While in line I met an array of people from Germany and one from France. After a brief conversation with a fat, drunken man who when he discovered I was from the 'States said roughly, "Hitler is dead. Tell everyone you know." He also suggested I don't go to the club. I took everything he said with the tiniest grain of salt, yet played off everything he said as plausible and continued to nod. 

By the time he had finished elaborating on his wily ideas to me, it was about time to get into the club. Then finally, after all that anticipation and waiting, the bouncer looks at my legs for a millisecond and tells me I can't go because I'm wearing shorts. A girl in line next to me about my age convinces the burly, bald dude and I get in! (A middle-aged couple notice my jacket and the woman starts talking to me about BMWs! It's crazy how friendly Germans are during the weekend!)

I walk in with the girl who got me in and her friends and one of them asks me to take their picture. I do so and after that, cluelessly look around for my friends. It was to no avail, and I tell the four girls my situation. One of them asked me if I wanted to come dance with them. I comply and I dance with them in a circle. Careless whether I embarrass myself, I pull off all the moves I could think of. 

More pictures are taken, and I'm even asked to take a picture with two of the girls! I told them "Ich fühle mich so einschließend!" (I feel so included) as a hand wrapped around my neck and we posed for Facebook. 

The exact "I feel so included" picture. Marle and Juliette, thank you!

During the course of our dancing, I am reluctant to trust my German (even though I should have) because of the volume of the music. One of the girls, Marle did her best to communicate with me in English over the pounding beats. She asks me where my friends are, and I tell her "I'm having more fun with you guys, can I stay?" She says yes, but still urges me to look for my friends. They're no where to be found and I return to the group. 

Sometime after the three girls leave, there's just one of the girls, Juliette and myself. We retreat to the entrance of the club so we can talk more clearly. She orders a water from the bar for [imaginably] some absurd price and offers me half of it. I was as gracious as I was parched and said, "Für mich? Aber ich bin ein unbekannte Person!" (For me? But I'm a stranger to you!) I was astounded at her generosity to reach out to someone she may never meet again and offer half of her water that I'm sure she'd otherwise gladly slurp down alone!

I turn on the 3G and Roaming settings on my phone, aware of how much they cost and of the potential "emergency" situation I could find myself. I opt to use my phone, log onto Facebook and find my friend Hendra sent me a message saying, "my turkish and arabisch friends is not allowed inside man...that;s fucked up..i'm fed up...I am allowed inside but i cannot just leave them out.. I am gonna accompany them... freakin' racist man the bouncer."

I show Juliette the message and we head out. We walk outside, looking for her bike speaking Germanish, as she's trying to accomodate me by speaking in English and I'm trying to do the same in German. 

We find her bike and I ask her where the train station is. She points right down the street, I thank her for everything, we hug and we're off in our separate directions. Oh and it's 5AM. 

As I'm walking to the Heinrich-Heine McDonald's (which surprisingly are supremely popular meet-up spots and lunch places in Germany) that's right next to the U-Bahn station, a man stops me. Again, asking me about my jacket. We start a conversation, and like all my conversations, we ultimately get on the topic that I'm from the USA. He tells me of relatives he has and experiences he has about and in the land of the free. We exchange Facebook information, and I embark on the first leg of my trip home. 

After the U-Bahn and later, S-Bahn rides home, I stumble the dirt path that circumvents a horse ranch I walk every day to school in an eerily-lit sky. As I reach my guest family's door, my guest mother greets me at the door, who has come home equally late. At this hour, it's roughly 5:40 and I brush my teeth as quietly and as briskly as I can image. 

I lie in bed for only moments before I fell asleep. But before I fell fast asleep, I recollected all the incredible people I met that day.

Mein Gott!

Düsseldorf, Germany: Day 9

Day 9 was another one of those good days. The sun was shining, I had the teacher I like and life was good.

As soon as I got home from class, I napped for several hours and that was everything I needed at that point. As I emerged from my slumber at about 7 o' clock, I went downstairs for dinner.

My host mother made Pommes with Rindfleisch (a Turkish delicacy) for dinner. My appetite has been steadily growing over the past few days the more often and intensely I've been running. This meal was no different. I ate seemingly as much as my stomach could accomodate. This was not the best idea.

The Rindfleisch (think: Gyro meat), while it was good, gave off a flavor of cholesterol. In other words, it's not a meat for the faint of stomach or anyone on a diet. (I don't think I want to have that for a long time.) Thankfully I'm a male and young, so I could consume a cow without seeing any noticeable impact to my weight. 

My American upbringing (that perceives food to be the ultimate panacea for all problems in life) instructed me to continue to insert the tender meat shavings into my mouth. I added some salt, and what do you know, the flavor was even better! 

After the meal, I ermm, tried to get rid of the meal before going on my daily run with Sadeq. I did my best, but to no avail. 

I thought I wouldn't have a problem running with all that cow flesh lounging in my stomach. But was I wrong. 

Sadeq had the bright idea to go on a 5K run to our friend, Fadi's house. We left our house at approximately 11 and returned at half-past 2. At first we ran, desperately trying to find our way using Sadeq's iPhone, but the device would frequently mislead us, so that hampered our pace. 

At first, we ran. And as we ran, my stomach made gurgling noises, which gave me the impression that it was inflating like a hot air balloon. I pushed on and as we waited for Sadeq's phone to gain its bearings, we walked. 

We walked and walked and walked. Until we finally arrived at Fadi's house. We stood around his kitchen as Sadeq charged his phone and drank some Apfelschorle. 

Soon, we were on our way again. It was perhaps the single most tumultuous journey I have ever embarked on. We found ourselves lost a number of times and the path was ever-changing thanks to Apple's brilliant technology. We walked as if we were drunk out of drowsiness for hours and finally made it home. 

I had to wake up at 7:30 and played with the thought of not going to class tomorrow. I ultimately did thanks to my strict scruples and the day after was surprisingly good based on how little sleep I received.

More photos of my home away from home.

Düsseldorf, Germany: Day 6

My sixth day in Düsseldorf, Germany was very much a mixed bag.

For starters, I woke up at the not-so-early time of 11 o' clock, took a shower, got dressed and headed downstairs. Hilariously, my host family and fellow IIK students had been looking through a sports gear catalogue, wherein on the cover, was the same Germany away jersey I happened to pick out moments earlier. I asked, then I begged, Sadeq to come run with me. But to no avail. Despite him promising me the night before that we'd go out and run at 12 the next day, he was busy faulenzen.

So that meant I could go alone, go faster, with few to no Pausen. Fine by me!

I ran to a quite large Volkswagen dealership called Volkswagen Zentrum. One way, the dealership was 3,1 kilometers away (that's roughly 2 miles each way for you Amis back home). The path went from enchanted neighborhood to industrial very quickly. Along my way, I'm sure I confused many a German by wearing a German national team jersey given how expensive an item it is in Germany. (In Germany they cost 80€, while in the US $80, or the equivalent of 64€!) I must have either looked like a very wealthy German or an absolute foreigner.

I ran down Sandträgerweg, which transformed to Königsberger Straße, where I turned right onto Ronsdorfer Straße, which bent and curved until my straight-line American brain was totally befuddled, where I came across Hellweg and somehow, by God's grace, returned home. I had no phone with me, was growing increasingly tired and thirsty and would have had to walk the rest of the way if it was much longer. It would make sense to take two rights to end up where you started, right? The German roads with their tendency to undulate and swivel made me grow to distrust my navigational judgements. But they paid off and the familiar golden wheat fields greeted me yet again and the sun shined on Michael Lenoch that day.


My first mistake of the day then, was wearing the shirt you see below.

That shirt represents a soccer club in Nürnberg. Later from a local, I found out that they're a horribly low-tier team. But I had no idea. To me, it was a German shirt, and Germans would respond to a German shirt with open arms. To my American readers, this was worse than wearing Bears memorabilia in Green Bay or vice versa. I could see the intense anger in the passersby that stared at its white lettering, and soon afterward, deeply into my eyes. Soon I was made well aware I should have never worn that shirt for the deep devotion to Düsseldorf's home-grown club, Fortuna. By the day's end on the S-Bahn ride home, I started a conversation with a guy who glanced at my shirt. I unabashedly asked him "Magst du es?" (Do you like it?) He pulled out one of  his headphones and explained to me why I was getting stared at all day. I explained to him that I got it simply as a souvenir while visiting Germany with my family in 2009 for the first time, not to signify my allegiance. 

I went to a Flohmarkt (flea market) where locals sold their used or unwanted items and there were a few specialty stalls. My host family's daughter, Nicola, and I rode by bike to the location. The scenes were absolutely idyllic! Take a look!

 At the Flohmarkt, there was a band playing, nice weather was upon us and to my chagrin, horrible smoke wafted at every corner. Ich könnte es mich nicht gelitten!

The very German band sang American songs... in German. And crazy people danced as if it was Lollapalooza. 

I was genuinely surprised to see a car from FLORIDA in Germany. Definite WTF moment for me.

After the Flohmarkt, my Gastfamilie and I went to the local Aldi for some groceries. After that, I had to split up from them as they drove and I rode a bike. We were off. 

I tried to re-locate where Nicola had locked up the bike for me, and again, somehow found it. Thank goodness! I unlocked the bike and was on my way... or so I thought.

Like almost every other member of the male species, I refused to ask anyone where to go and was dead-set on a pre-determined path like a broken GPS. And like almost every other male, eventually found himself lost. In fact, I ended up in a very posh area where I saw Range Rovers and elegant, tree-covered sidewalks. I saw a group of girls around my age and swiftly rode my bike to them. I started by saying "Entschuldigung? Weißt ihr wo Gerresheim ist?" After asking where I should go, none of them knew. I then explained that I was from America, Chicago specifically, and all their eyes lit up and said "Cool!" (I should really tell people that I'm from Chicago more often!) I later said I was studying German at IIK and hope I can be a journalist in Germany some day. I'm sure we could have carried the conversation on because (and I kid you not) the girls seemed entranced about how exotisch America is, but I worried (because I knew my host family worried) if or when I would return. I sped off as fast as I approached them wished them farewell with a friendly "Tchüß!' 

While riding my bike on the European sidewalks, I felt my sense of speed multiply from what large, American suburbs I'm used to. Thankfully, no sidewalks in Europe end as abruptly or unexpectedly as they do in suburban America. At a certain point along my journey, I realized I'd better sacrifice whatever absurd phone rate it'll cost to use my phone to find out where I am and where I need to go. I was soon on my way and fork-deep into a leftover bowl of chicken and broccoli which was everything I needed after running four miles and biking even more. 

Later then, I headed with Sadeq and Ahmed, where we headed to the Altstadt, which was extremely crowded thanks to the Japantag celebration that day, where anime and manga fans would cosplay as their favorite characters (or at least the ones they resemble the most). 

Along our way to the Lebanese restaurant, we encountered the most stereotypical German drinking scenes. It was like college on stereoids. It was awesome! A whole table of burly men sang in harmony as they saluted each other with their great, big beer glasses.

At the restaurant, my three Israeli friends felt right at home and ordered Felafel. The place was so crowded. I ordered just pita(?) bread with hummus at first. Little did I know, my friends also ordered a Felafel for me. I received my bread (whatever kind it is!) and hummus and began eating it with my friends who had already received their Felafels. Later, the server came back with a Felafel for me. He asked me if I already paid for it. I knew if I said "no," he would know I was lying. So I took the high road and reluctantly paid for it. The food was great, but extremely salty and called for a drink to go with it. But wait! A tiny glass-bottle coke costs 1,6€. By no means worth it! Even though I was horribly thirsty, I sipped the sweet drink so I could top off the meal with coke rather than a dry, uncomfortable feeling in my mouth. Money is so much more painful to spend when you can hold it, smell it and see it. That's why credit cards are the easiest way to burn money.

The site of the bridge from afar.

Then Sadeq and I headed for the bridge for the fireworks show. Unfortunately we lost Fadi, Veronika, Sorina and Ahmed along the morass of wacky and colorful-costume-clad anime characters. Sadeq and I made it on the bridge alive though.

The bridge while the sun was still out and it was [relatively] warm.

The pros set up shop, with tripods and all.

As we and the masses waiting for the explosive entertainment (see what I did there?) there were a number of ships that swam under the bridge. Some appeared for more geriatric sorts than others, but I had the envy of my life when I saw a boat with a large crowd dancing on the deck with a DJ playing "Welcome to St. Tropez." 

A more geriatric boat.

A rainbow of neon boats! 

God did I have the envy of my life hearing that song and seeing all those people dancing on that ship... Shame of shames! 

The bespoke people dancing on bespoke ship!

After a long hour of waiting in the cold (although Sadeq and Ahmed had told me to bring a jacket, I refused to), the fireworks began. 

A large of Germans photograph the spectacle.

I find that I'm really "over" firework shows. They seem to captivate me less and less than they did when I was younger. Once you see one fireworks show, you've seen them all. 

I quickly grew bored and stopped taking photos as the been-there-done-that-feeling set in. So I asked a girl behind me laughing if she wanted to take my place so she could take some pictures. She said no, that's okay. Then, intriguingly started a conversation with me because I had nothing but a t-shirt and shorts on (maybe I should wear just t-shirts when it's really cold out more often?). Either way, it's really quite comical the way I'm beginning to meet more and more people. 

Our conversation then drifted on to where I'm from and she appeared more interested, so well, we kept talking. With her was her friend who was quite drunk at the time. She was really funny. I asked them where they needed to go and they said to the same train as us so we decided to go together. 

It was hard to stay together thanks to the enormous amount of people trying to go one direction at once, so rather than walking on a [stereotypically] efficient German sidewalk for transporting pedestrians, we walked on a clunky, slow path that consisted of circumventing people more than anything else. 

But we survived. 

We not only survived, but we also boarded the U-Bahn successfully too! As soon as we arrived where our paths diverged at the Düsseldorf Hauptbahnhof, Sadeq had the bright idea to go back thanks to a call he received from a friend, inviting us to a club. 

We went back to the Altstadt and braved the drunken people, for what? Not much. We did get to see the absurdly polluted city as a barge, carrying eight American-sized (that tells you they're BIIIG) garbage trucks just to clean up the tornado of a mess that was the Japantag. 

All those reflective objects you see are BEER BOTTLES. All of them. It looks as if a riot happened there!

A brief video highlighting the vibrant nightlife in Düsseldorf.

However, we did meet a German-Moroccan who asked Sadeq if he's from Düsseldorf, but he said no. Then he approached us again and asked me the same question. Before he could walk away, again dissatisfied, I stopped him asking where he's from. That really got him started. 

Along our fruitless walk looking for our friend who sent us the invite, he talked about the political strife and economic turmoil of Sadeq and my home nations: Israel and the United States. He was fun to talk to, but spoke extraordinarily fast. Again, another very interesting way to meet a person. 

Es gibt viel zu tun in Düsseldorf! Und natürlich, noch viel mehr! 

Bis morgen!

Düsseldorf, Germany: Day 5

To my surprise, today was even better than yesterday.

However, there is still some unfinished business to attend to before I delve into day 5's activities. So I suppose you could call the first section of this entry "Day 4.5."

A number of classmates and I went to a pub in Düsseldorf's Altstadt (old town/city center) for a Stammtisch (get-together) with other IIK students. There, I met some new people and fun was had by all. My friends slurped their non-alcoholic margaritas (German, right?!) and I had my first Altbier as we watched Israel lose to Germany in a friendly match.

I drank... errm, I mean, sipped that minuscule glass you see below. And for me, who has little to no experience drinking, that was more than plenty. I could feel the effects kicking in after the second sip. I'm sure a beer aficionado would find the taste simply exquisite, but I'm by no means a "beer person." I ordered one partly to say that I did when family members ask me at any given obligatory function and to see, just see, if maybe I could be won over by Germany's [arguably] greatest invention. (Never mind, the car, turbine engine, x-ray technology, toothpaste, aspirin nor airbag). Because America's Miller, Keystone and Pabst Blue Ribbon have been anything but successful in massaging my taste buds.

Day 4 marked my first German (and legal) beer.

On to day 5. After IIK's unsavory decision to plan a night out at a bar on a Thursday night, I was forced to eject from my bed at a brisk 7:30 in the morning. I remembered I didn't complete my homework, for which I received a great deal (thanks to me switching class times and missing the first day of my new class). I quickly completely what I could pull out of thin air as I waited for my friend, Ahmed, to finish his breakfast. 

Along the way to the train this morning, we saw the cutest scene: two horses "kissing" each other. Whatever it was, it was so sweet!

I arrived to class. But today, there wasn't the not-so-nice, incredibly condescending and will-interrupt-you-at-any-cost female teacher with messy, black, witch-like hair I had yesterday. Instead, there was a tall, stern (yet friendly) looking German with the most typical of German faces, all the while wearing a pair of glasses. I immediately felt obliged to pay attention to every last word and syllable he uttered for how earnest he appeared. I felt he truly deserved my attention. He executed every pronunciation with German engineer-like precision. I loved it and I did not once look at the clock. The greatest shame of the day was that he only teaches for Tuesdays and Fridays. Verdammt! 

In our class that day, there was a new Ukrainian girl I met, and most surprisingly of all, an American (?!) girl. She had a remarkably good accent. And it was interesting having two Americans in one class who have said remarkably good accents (and I'm not patting myself on the back here, as I receive any number of compliments for how authentic my German sounds). Our discussion during out Pause eventually boiled down to English on account of words we couldn't express in German, but it soon returned to German as we realized the Greek and Lebanese men around us couldn't understand a word we said. 

Of all places, she was from Texas! And yet when she spoke English she sounded like anything but. Her name was the highly German Courtney. To be fair, it could be spelled with a "K." She was only the third American I've spoken to thus far, and I've seen other ones (they stand out pretty good), but not dare to speak to them, oh no! (And yes, Americans do bite.) 

Before returning home, I picked up a Turkish kebab. 

And by luck (destiny) ran into a housemate of mine at the train station before I could eat my [then warm] Turkish delight. And she was nice enough to show me where the book store is so that I could finally purchase my textbook for my class. She led me all the way there and all the way back home via three öffentliche Vekehrssmitteln, U-Bahn (underground train), S-Bahn (street train) and Bus. How nice!

Later that day, my friend Sadeq and I went for a run. And along the way, we saw a group of VWs and other assorted tuned European cars like Seats and Mercedes. I asked Sadeq if I should approach the group. He said I should do whatever I want. As I approached the crowd, I saw them all eventually turn their heads and at first, I felt unwelcome. But after I spoke some German to them, they warmed up to me and answered my initial question, which went: "Ihr seid Autofans, nicht?" Their answer was obvious, but that was intentional. I wanted to ask a comfortable question at first, so I could go off the deep end in my second question. "Seid ihr nach der Nürburging gefahren?," I said. None of them have driven on the legendary racetrack open to the public, but they directed me to a man in a smaller circle consisting of three guys and three girls who has. I approached the crowd with immense confidence and began asking my questions using the second-person, formal "Sie" for he appeared older than me. After time, that transformed to an informal "du" and as far as I could tell, the group and I really kicked things off.

I knew if I never approached the group of people surrounding the tuned cars, I would forever regret not engaging in such a totally organic, spontaneous conversation. Besides, I know car fans wherever I go will be fully willing to share their passion wherever I am from. I think my authentic accent helped them welcome me as well. 

An example of one of the tuned VWs. In fact, this is the exact one owned by one of the Jungs I met named [a very American] Chris. 

The conversation alternated between cars when the guys would talk to me and living in America when the girls would ask me questions. I was impressed how capable I was to talk to total strangers at the drop of a hat. I suppose all there really is to it is that you have to be friendly and willing to joke. Speaking of joking, I'm surprised I could pull them off! I could not believe how much fun it was to simply talk to Germans. We talked about street racing (and how it's verboten), American cars (and my distaste for them), what was up with the meet they were all gathered there for and how one of the girl's brother now lived in North Carolina in the US.  

It was positively splendid!

Bitte kommen Sie zurück am morgen!

Düsseldorf, Germany: Day 4

It's official. It takes me approximately four days to be comfortable with a foreign country. I am finally beginning to get my bearings in this land: where to go, how to behave, how to socialize, etc.

In fact, all the foreign students I study with at my language institue in Düsseldorf (IIK) either have no clue where I am from or have guessed various European nations. I suppose this goes to show how heavily influenced German clothing style is from American shops and designers. I am somewhat thankful this is the case because anonymity is the best thing one could ask for in Europe, where long, judgmental stares are commonplace. However, I am insulted when I see people wearing American baseball caps for simply the "style" of it and nothing more. Most Germans have no idea what baseball is!

How badly is this place trying to be the German equivalent of Forever 21. I don't remember being 18 was ever that great...

Amerika, the influential!

One way America has NOT influenced Germany is bathroom sizes. I could maybe fit two toothpicks in here! 

Speaking of the foreign students I study with, I find it funny that students from all the European nations (Spain, Italy, Greece, etc.) that are currently in the midst of economic turmoil are the ones coming to Germany to learn the language so they can one day live here. Conversely, the students from nations with relatively stable economies are few. I believe myself included, there are only three American students in total and one Canadian student. It seems there is a distinct influx of foreigners immigrating to Germany so that they may enjoy its prosperous economy.

Today had to be my best day. Everything simply seemed to work. I went early to IIK to change my course from afternoons to mornings. That worked. I went to purchase a monthly train and bus ticket. That worked. I went to buy peaches and ice tea. That worked. It was miraculous how fluid everything was today and I think having already gone to college for a year and being on my own has made a world of difference.

I'm keeping a close look on my expenses and [trying to] keeping them to a minimum. I'm meeting new people and challenging myself to talk to as many people as possible, and that's no trouble either. There's something about the German language that removes all the barriers I have in English. And in a way, German is more universal than English because in English, one's identity is exposed to moment a person opens his or her mouth. But in German, everyone is striving to speak with the same accent and there's a degree of universality to that. Something, at least, that is missing in English.

Also unlike America, when you look at a pretty girl, she's not afraid to look back!

Check out these pictures of my temporary home while you're processing that last statement:

The Dorf where I'm living is located near a "horse farm" Pferdfarm, could you tell? 

Tchüß Kumpels!