a Month in the Life

I'm not looking foward to September. September is generally my least favorite month of the year. September has always stood for the ending of summer (my favorite time of the year) and the return to school. Pools close in September and homework resumes. Fun summer jobs gave way to after school activities - soccer was possibly the only highlight to September and I stopped playing 8 years ago. Last September brought a week of vacation including a visit from my parents and trip to Paris and Berlin. This September is going to be my demise. I just looked at my schedule and I have 5 events outside of Germany in that month. I will be in London, Helsinki, Russia, Brussels and Paris. This means I have more trips than weeks! Immediately following September, i'll fly to Rome for a week of conference and within this time we'll be planning at least 3 November events! Oh no. I will savior summer this year more than ever before. Oh, if only I could go back to camp where there are no worries and the responsibilities are easy.

On My Way to the USA

I said I would pack two days in advance of my flight. Patrick smiled and called 6am the day of the flight. I wish I could be that person, the one who is perfectly packed and ready for anything at a moment’s notice, alas, that is not my life. In reality, I packed my bag (yes just one) around 10:30pm the night before departure and left it open for a few early morning additions. Inevitably, I’ll hate all of my clothes when I unpack and I’m sure I forgot something of minimal importance. Packing does not agree with me, whether it be for a week long business trip or a relocation, I’m just not good at it. Maybe I should rephrase that because I am good at squeezing a lot of stuff into a little space. As I finished packing for this trip, I could feel my heart beating fast. I couldn’t sleep. All I could do was think about what I may have forgotten – USD, a dress, pants, shoes, pills. These things were on my mind but I knew if I got out of bed to pack them I’d never get to sleep so I fought off the urge and tried to make mental notes for the morning. I sit on the plane now, hoping I have everything, knowing it is too late to go back and counting on a bit of shopping time to make up the difference. I’m on the plane now with about 5 hours left in my flight. The flight attendants are picking up our lunch trays and serving Bailey’s or another aperitif. As I sit here with my second glasses of wine and water and add Bailey’s I wonder why people complain about airline food. I just ate chicken with vegetables and rice in a mild curry sauce with a roll, small salad and lemon meringue with strawberry sauce – all in economy. I’m not dissatisfied. Maybe I’m spoiled as I’m flying Lufthansa but I’ve had an equally enjoyable experience on Virgin before my Lufthansa days. The last intercontinental flight I took was miserable. The plane was full to max capacity and I was sitting in a middle seat next to a woman who continuously farted. I couldn’t sleep a wink and I was flying east. This time I was able to choose my seat when I booked the flight and I got 55J. If you are ever flying on a (Lufthansa) 747 in economy, pick seat J55. It’s a window seat but you have about a foot of space between your seat and the window which is great for storing your carry on and gives you some room to breathe. I was not as lucky on my return flight. For India being a developing country there are always a substantive amount of Indians on every transatlantic flight I’ve been on.

Buzz Buzz

I have a bee problem. I spend most of my days working from the "Winter Garden" for the sunshine. I usually open at least one window from the top and at various points in the day I hear the buzzing of a defeated bee. Much like in Bee Movie, one lone bee flies in the window and then can't get out. They always try to fly out through the other windows and then fall down and get stuck on their backs. Eventually they get up and I get up and open the window the bee keeps crashing into or teh one next to it so i can coax him to his exit becasue I'm sick of his buzzing. I could just squich them but the worls needs bees and they're already dying out so I help them along and send them on their way. This has happened so often in the past week that Patrick refers to the bees as pets - and he's only sees half of them!

Tales of a Russian

I've just finished my second week of travels in a row and subsequebtly spent the weekend away from anything work related trying to forget how exhausting it is to go to 4 countries in 2 weeks. Back in the office today, I started to recall a rather interesting meeting with my favorite Russian. His name is Yuri (Russian enough) but some how whenever I meet with him (twice thus far) I like to secretly think of him a Putin (It makes me consider him to be as influential and important in Russia as he considers himself). The first time I met this man in person was back in October of 2007 (not so long ago). In this meeting he was the opposite of happy (mostly because I was sent to deliver the message that my boss, who was an hour late, would not be attending this meeting) and I only met with him to try and rectify the situation. There was a bit of yelling. Needless to say, I wondered what this next meting would bring and looked forward to seeing him on neutral soil at a trade show. He showed up at 3:30 for his 5:oo meeting (he picked the time) and asked us if we could meet earlier so he could have time to return to his hotel and change before the evening's gala dinner. We told him we could meet immediately which led to him disapearing for half an hour and then coming back for the longest meeting of the day (he requested a 30 minute meeting but talked for 3 times as long). Aside from business, he brought up various topics and I took notes, including a few quotes which are just a rediculous in context (they were never in ocntext) as they are at random (let's face it, they were delivered at random). Unfortunately, I was not able to take down the best comments as I didn't know they were coming but he did go into a bit of a rant about wanting to be at his peak again to impress the ladies - by which, I deduced he had a huge crush on my boss and then he challenged her to a vodka drinking contest from which she successfully hid. I'm so glad Russia is in my region. Here are a few of the quotes I managed to squeeze into my notes, imagine that we were talking about planning an event to take place in Moscow and you will begin to realize how out of context this man was. "Obama is cleave but Hilary is Hilary" ::delivered with a huge smile:: "I like Hilary." "I like drinking"

Language Update

On a side note, one would expect airline employees to have a lot of patience with travelers, especially those who are lost and don’t speak the native language. I typically find this is not so. With the exception of two amazing women in Toronto who kept 4 planes of delayed passengers in line where others had failed before, airline employees on the ground are short tempered. Stewardesses tend to have more patience, especially on a below capacity flight. Anyway, I started this blog to talk about my cross cultural experiences and generally provide a window into my world on this side of the Atlantic. I’ve gotten slightly off track and well behind at times – which reminds me, I need to blog about a wedding and my trip to Zurich- so it is time for an entry on my language skills. Language is the key to being absorbed into a culture. While I got lucky, or perhaps unlucky, by being a native English speaker at a time and in a country where English is emerging as the language of business it is just not the same in personal conversations. Naturally, everyone is most comfortable speaking in their native language, as such conversations can be more in depth. I too feel this way and most Germans I spend time with accommodate my language. One of my goals while here is to learn the language, this has been one of my largest hurdles. I go through phases. Sometimes I get seriously discouraged and refrain from German, in order to get out of these lulls, I need to come into a situation where I am forced to speak German and succeed in order to reassure myself of my capabilities. Since I returned from the US after the New Year and up until Easter, I was in one of these “my German sucks lulls” Over the Easter weekend, we spent time with Patrick’s family and in order to carry on any sort of conversation beyond “prost!” with his Uncle and Aunt, I needed to speak English or speak through him. He left at one point and I was forced to speak only in German without a suitable assistant to translate anything for me. I survived, I was on my way back into speaking German but it was a slow process. Last week, I flew to Zurich. On the way, I was thinking about my German (on Lufthansa of course). Since I really started learning this language, I’ve hoped for an opportunity to use it to be able to help someone. Last June I was sort of able to help an Italian find lost baggage but it was seriously broken German/English with a hint of Italian – it was a disaster. Since most Germans speak English, I often require more language accommodation than I can offer to others. Of course I could translate for my parents and colleagues when they were here- that was useful and renewed my language learning at the time. Anyway, When I landed in Zurich, I remembered that German would be the language of the city. I inquired with the nearest bus driver and found the stop for my hotel shuttle. As I approached Area 4, I noticed a group of young looking girls with a ton of luggage and a small van. I immediately thought this was going to be a disaster leading to me waiting an hour for the next shuttle. However, there was no driver in sight and one of the smaller girls (apparently the leader) approached me and asked, in English, if I knew if this was the stop for the Senator hotel. I used me reading skills to look at the sign and confirm that it was – impressive I know. Shortly after a man approached in English and she confirmed to him that they were in the right spot. Apparently he was the American professor in charge of this group of University students from Dubai who looked no older than 15. He had gone to look for the driver of the parked van to with no luck. Shortly after his return, two larger vans (bout the size of a short bus) pulled up and a tall man with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth approached, also looking for the driver of our van. When he didn’t see one, he asked if we knew where the driver was and then proceeded to find out where we were going and how many people he would need to transport. I relayed this information to the professor and secured a shuttle for myself, the professor and his 9 students (and all of their luggage) to go to two separate location. I secured pricing and receipts and all were delivered to their correct locations. I did it all in German and when the professor thanked me, I realized I had helped someone (or 10 someones) through the use of my German. I continued to speak German for the next two days and quickly learned that the Swiss differ from the Germans in one main feature, they don’t accommodate English speakers. I’m not sure if this is because they don’t like foreigners (I had to show my passport 3 times before getting into the country) or because they don’t learn English. On the flight home, I even read a German magazine and understood most of it – okay it was a fashion magazine but still an accomplishment. Overall, I guess my comprehension is improving and so is my ability to be understood. I still need to work on grammer and verbs and I should probably address most people in a more formal manner than I tend to do but for now, I’m happy with my spoken German.

Overheard in the Airport

FA: Do you have a boarding pass C (with a huge smile on his face through the whole conversation): Yes FA: Where is your boarding pass? C: I don’t have one FA: Okay, I’ll need your passport C: (hands over Passport, still smiling) FA: Is there luggage in transit? C: Yes FA: Where are your baggage receipts? C: huh? FA: I need the receipts for your checked baggage with the tracking number C: no I don’t have none. FA: Okay then you’re all set

What's in a Name?

Some names have clear stories while others seem like they were made up at random. My English landlady once told me that my name, Fitzgerlad means "son of Gerald" which would explain the other names with a Fitz prefix also and works for me as my Grandfather is actually named Gerald. In Germany, I've come across many more names that are made up of words. So many and some with crazy translations or pronounciation that I've decide to keep a running list (please feel fre to add) Here goes:

• Kaseberg (cheese mountain)
• Bauermeister (farm master)
• Schade (loosely translates to poor thing, sometimes used as an explicitive in place of shit like one would say oh shoot!)
• Klar (clear)
• Berg (mountain)
• Klein (small)
• Kleinjung (small boy)
• Biermann (Beer Man)
• Hoffman (station man)
• Kohlsdorf (I think this would be cabbace town)
• Lowensberg (lion mountain)
• Neuhaus (new house)
• Rosenbaum (rose tree)
• Deutsch (German) - I've actually seen this one in the US, not here
• Montag (Monday) yes Heidi's last name is actually Monday
• von - the prefix von in any last name literally means from. I met a Dutch guy whose last name was von Bremen (a city in Germany) and when I asked Patrick about this, he explained the history and trading background between the two places. I was impressed that a name could hold so much.