Bavarian Cloud Cuckoo Lands

Today I would like to share with you a bit of my grief that comes from a bitter defeat of my favorite soccer club, FC Bayern München, in the final of the UEFA Chamions League of 2012. This competition is as (or more) prestigious for soccer at the European level (which is organized by Union Fédérale de Football Association, or UEFA) as the NFL Super Bowl is for American Football. The high reputation is derived from it being a competition of teams that are holding their respective national chamionship title from the previous season. (To be exact, since the inception of the CL also non-champions from high-ranking European leagues, such as Spain, England, Italy, Germany etc., have been admitted in favor of the champions of not so strong leagues, such as Luxemburg, Belgium etc. These teams play either a second tier competition known as the Europa League, or they may enter the CL through an extended qualification stage prior to the actual start.) - Munich has been my preferred team since the early 1980s, the times of Karl-Heinz Rummenigge, then a striker star, and nowadays the CEO of the club. The team, while being the record champion, is not liked well by everyone, for advocating its own superiority on numerous occasions. Nevertheless, a true fan doesn't change his or her favorite team, and thus I am stuck with these guys ... So imagine my excitement when they went all the way to the final of the Chamions League of 2012. To understand the importance of this feat, you need to know that Munich, in order to meet their own standards, requires to win at least one title per year, and after coming in second in both the German Bundesliga and the German national cup, the Champions League was supposed to save the day. To add some cream on top, the final was being held in Munich in 2012, while it rotates every year to a new location (of international standing, of course). The opponent of Munich was Chelsea FC from London, owned as a pet project of Russian oligarch Roman Abramowich. This man has invested literally almost one billion Euro in his team, which for a few times in a row made it to the CL semifinals, where they got kicked out. So this occasion was the last chance for a few players who had been with Chelsea since the arrival of Mr. Abramovich to win this prestigious cup. Given that Chelsea had such an expensive roster their style of playing was a noteable disappointment; they made no attempt of scoring a goal and simply tried to keep it at a 0 - 0, hoping for a single successful counterattack to end the game with a lucky punch. With the offense of Chelsea practially non-existent, Bayern pushed forward, yet did not score a goal until seven minutes before the end of the regulaer time. Normally this would be the end of the story. But this time Chelsea striker Didier Drogba evened the score with a header after Chelsea's first (!) corner kick three minutes before the end of the regular 90 minutes. This meant extra time, 2 x 15 minutes. In the first half of the extra time Bayern received a penalty kick (a free kick from 11 meters from the goal, with no defender save the goalie being allowed to be even inside the penalty box). Such a chance would normally mean a dead sure goal, and thus the end of the story if Bayern doesn't allow another goal against. Unfortunately the player for Munich, Arjen Robben, failed to strike, after a previous miss in the decisive game against Borussia Dortmund, which permitted Dortmund to defend their national title. Hence, the CL final went on, and after the end of the extra 2 x 15 min, there was a penalty shootout. This means, at first there are five alternating penalty shots from each team (which allows to even the score within those five shots), and only then it is one shot per team. - The first player for Munich scored, while the first for Chelsea missed. If it weren't five shots per team at the beginning, the match would have been over by now, with Munich being the winner. Also, if Bayern had kept their cool, they would have taken advantage of such an obvious match point (as they would say in tennis). But the penalties went on (with some extra flavor being added by Munich's actual goal keeper also successfully scoring!), and after the fourth player for Munich missed and subsequently a Chelsea player put the ball into the goal, all of a sudden the match was fully open once again. Eventually, the last player for Munich also missed, while the previously mentioned Drogba scored the final penalty for Chelsea. - What left me so affected was that Bayern had as many as three match points, was the better team by far until the penalties, and still didn't manage to win. That's a match to remember!
 Participating in and winning the 2012 Champions League, when coincidentally it was being held in Munich, had been the dream of Uli Hoeneß, the man who has served the club for many decades as a player, then manager (the person who hires and fires the players), and most recently as the president (thus superseeding the CEO, Karl-Heinz Rummenigge). Hoeneß is the most outspoken person in the club and often makes statements that are perceived as arrogant. When he was the manager he also had a habit of buying the stars from newly emerging teams, so as to avoid their becoming a serious threat to Munich's hegemonial position. Turns out, while reaching the final of a Champions League season, it is not enough to put players from national newcomers on your roster; you need a team that meets international standards, and also a strategy of how you would like to play in the next five to ten years. Munich, on the other hand, has had as many as three different coaches with distinctively different concepts in the last five years. So I tend to think of the CL title in 2012 as Mr. Hoeneß' personal Cloud Cuckoo Land.

As it happens, there is another such thing in Bavaria, to which Munich is the capital. I believe I have stressed on the course German history on multiple occasions within this blog (the last time when I was telling about my visit to Nördlingen). There was the style and title of German Emperor, which the respective holders saw in the tradition of the Roman Emperors. At the time Germany was a feudal society, with lesser nobles receiving land from the absolute authority of the emperor, and in turn having to pledge their allegiance. However, this system was destroyed when Napoléon Bonaparte invaded Germany, ultimately leading to the transfer of the Imperial style and title to Austria, until then an entity of the so-called "Holy Roman Empire of the German Nation". The German Empire was restored in 1871 after a few belligerent conflicts, yet Napoléon, a very clever man, had increased the "centrifugal forces" within the remainder of Germany by promoting many of the nobles to the next higher rank. He thereby created a number of kings, who played along Napoléon's plan and emphasized their new-found indepence from the old empire, rather than being loyal to it. So it came to pass that many former German subjects became kingdoms of their own, and among them Bavaria in particular. As a matter of fact, Bavarians tend to see themselves and their land as exceptional very similarly to the Americans ... and the rivalry between Prussia, the leader in the second German Empire, and Bavaria in 1871 can be in a way compared to the one between the Union and the Confederate States just a few years earlier. (Yet there was no civil war, and Bavaria had acknowledged Prussia's lead from the first minute.)
Now, after yet another excursion into German history I would like to explain how this taps into to the most recent trip of mine. While being a federal subject to the German Emperor, the King of Bavaria was nevertheless a man of significant influence, and after all of royal status. King Ludwig II., a supporter and fan of the fine arts, decided to have his grandor manifest in stone; and so he ordered the construction of several castles all across his realm. One was Neuschwanstein, only a mile from Hohenschwangau, another castle where he had spent much of his youth. Nowadays they have become a major tourist attraction, and when I got there I did encountered a multinational tourist crowd from the U.S., Japan, China, Spain, Italy, Russia, and other places. Since I am now living less than 100 miles from Neuschwanstein, I decided to visit the place, because it is quite famous, and I was feeling a little bad about not having been there. Previous attempts had failed due to a late start, since it is not only the drive, but also a relatively long walk up the mountain that precedes the actual visit. The walk up the mountain may include a visit to the Marienbrücke (bridge of Our Lady) near the castle, which provides a spectacular view of the castle. Therefore I seized the day when last Saturday I had my car inspected and the tyres changes from winter to summer profile, which was done well before noon. I drove all the way to the German-Austrian border where the castles are located (and almost accidentally crossed the border), parked my car at the foot of the mountains, purchased a ticket, and started walking up. I did go to the bridge (as my tour was scheduled only for several hours later), and then eventually I did the tour through the castle. The tour itself was only 30 min, reflecting the tragic life of Ludwig II., who was rather withdrawn from life and preferred to spend more money than he owned on his castle projects. Neuschwanstein was meant to be reminiscent of a knight's castle (built in various ecclectic styles of the middle ages), and the paintings on the wall allude to medieval (and nordic) mythology. The tragedy, however, consists in the early death of the king (in his early 40s), shortly after he had been declared mentally insane. Thus, Neuschwanstein never got finished, and thus represents Ludwig's very own Cloud Cuckoo Land (notwithstanding that the castle is built in the mountains, near the clouds; in Bavaria, where cuckoo clocks are commonplace ...) Beneath this obvious tragedy, there is the one of Ludwig's ambitions of being perceived as an absolute king like the French Bourbon dynasty (e.g., Louis XIV.), while at the same time the political system in Europe was mostly a more modern constitutional monarchy (i.e., there is a monarch, but he or she is limited by a constitution, which is the highest authority - e.g. the United Kingdom is following this example until the present day), and while the U.S. had re-introduced the principles of democracy a whole 100 years earlier. So all his castle-building efforts (among other things) can be viewed as Ludwig living in a bubble shaped by symbolism of the past.

Nevertheless, if seen as a piece of architecture in its own right, Neuschwanstein Castle does not fail to deliver the impression Ludwig had in mind. You are invited to enjoy my photographic evidence below.

Neuschwanstein Castle, seen from the parking area

Hohenschwangau Castle, appox. 1 mile from Neuschwanstein Castle

shopping area for the rich

Marienbrücke (Bridge of the Lady Mary), which produces scary squeeky sounds ...
especially when it is so crowded!

waterfall beneath the bridge

breathtaking view of Neuschwanstein Castle from the bridge

tower at the main gate of the castle; note the snow at the hilltop

tuna salad and iced tea after a lot of sightseeing

liquid hot chocolate pudding as the dessert

on the way home: the castle and the mountains, seen from the bottom plains

Light!

This post is going to be a little technical. It's because I had to go through a small technical ordeal recently before I finally succeded in mounting my new lamp in the living room. Germany is one of those countries where it is legal to attach your electrical devices to the power grid by yourself. For your own sake, however, you should switch off the respective circuit breaker in order to avoid shocking yourself. (Germany's effective AC voltage is 230 V after all; i.e., twice the number of North America.) Electric cables that run throughout the wall of a house are typically three-conductors, as shown in the schematic below (which I picked from the depths of the Internet).

three-conductor Schuko ("Schutzkontakt", or protected contact) cable

I have never seen the electric wiring of a house in North America, but since my new lamp had the contacts labeled in several languages, including English, I assume that the system there is somewhat comparable. I'm outlining it here merely to explain my challenge the other day.

In Germany the yellow-and-green wire is ground. In the German vernacular the blue wire is called Null, and the brown wire (which often is actually a black one) is called Phase, yet the technical terms are Neutral and Live, respectively. The Neutral wire is grounded as well (somewhere in the grid), while the Live wire is not. Therefore it is (usually) possible to identify the Live wire with a device as simple as a one-contact neon test light - the Neutral wire won't make the test light glow.

When I had removed the old lamp from the ceiling of my living room and replaced it with the new one by attaching the wires in the cable coming from the ceiling to the ones with matching colors on the lamp, I was quite frustrated that it did not work. It was actually getting late that night, and I was going to have guests the next evening, so I really wanted the lamp to work. I was quite surprised that I didn't even manage to get the old lamp back to work, which is essentially just a light bulb with a metal screen. Then I started to fumble around with the test light, only to find out that both the brown and the blue wire were making it respond. That's when I decided to call my landlady to make an appointment with an electrician.

Fortunately my landlady has excellent connections to all kinds of repairmen - all of her four sons are actually in plumbing or woodworking or similar trades. So the electrician came to my apartment the morning after I had called my landlady, and while I was secretly afraid of having accidentally connected the brown and blue wire by putting a screw into the ceiling, it turned out the problem was very simple, but beyond my experience as a household craftsman ...

I learned that the blue and brown wire were actually both used as Live, but attached to two separate toggle switches on the wall (the double kind that occupies the space of one single switch, or one power outlet - I had actually been wondering why there was such a double switch). The yellow-and-green wire was used as Neutral, and there was no separate wire for ground. Now it all started to make sense - I did observe the blue and brown wire both making the test light respond, but every time I had toggled both switches on the wall, so both wires were live then. The double switch, as I was told, served to address the two halves of a large lamp with, say, eight light bulbs, so each switch could light up a subset of four bulbs. Still, while technically possible, this way of wiring is not the best, as for once it does require an extra connection to ground, which needs to be provided inside the lamp, by hooking up the yellow-and-green also to the housing of the lamp. (Fortunately this was already installed in the new lamp anyways.)

Currently I am using brown as Live, and yellow-and-green as Neutral, which is also grounded inside the lamp as a protective measure. Blue, however, is not serving any purpose, and is thus just dangling inside the lamp - with the end capped by a luster terminal, of course! Likewise, one half of the double switch is pointless as well. But as long as my beautiful new lamp is safely able to light the entire living room, I am quite okay with that!

Since I couldn't have my guests over as planned, we postponed the dinner night by a few days, but it took place eventually. See below for a few photos of the prepared table, and - of course - of the working lamp!

starters: king prawns in homemade cocktail sauce, and little scoops from cantaloupe and galia melon

new lamp working orderly - it's just a demonstration, as there is still lots of daylight outside

Lake Constance

This text will be a rather short one, as I would like to share with you the impression from my recent trip to Lake Constance. In a way it was a trip to the past, as many years ago I had the pleasure of dating a very lovely lady who used to live on the lakeside. As far as I know her parents are still there; yet on the far side from the place I recently visited. The lady's name was not Constance, by the way, but Katja - Constance is actually an important town at the lake. The lake's German name, Bodensee, translates as Lake Bottom. I won't try cracking any jokes by establishing a connection between "Katja" and "bottom" ... not least because I fear if I did, Katja (who is a strong person) would kick my own behind straight to the shores of the Netherworld (or at least to the "Popokatjapetl" ...). I am not sure where the German name originates from, but the lake is certainly located at the southern end (the "bottom"?) of Germany, where it forms part of the borders with Switzerland and Austria, respectively.

Katja is not the one who gave me the second most difficult time of my life. While she was the one to end our rather short relationship, she made an effort to mitigate our differences, so as to stay friends truly. I won't forget!

I hope you will enjoy browsing though my photos as much as I did taking them.

view across Lake Constance, with the Alps in the background

There is snow on top of the higher mountains ...

... yet not everywhere.

The clouds were impressive that day

a peek through the wood

very majestic

From this bench one can admire the tiny island, and the rest of the breathtaking view.

These settings best reflect the human view of the site from that day.

The settings used here, however, are better suited to cheer humans up a bit.

First Communion of my godchild

Since the year 2003, I have been the proud godfather of Xavier Venou Walter, first-born son to my high school friends Simone (née Quien), and Dominik. Interestingly, Xavier's and my birthday are only seven days apart (with him coming first in the calendar year).

Being a godfather in the original sense of the word is a religious duty, rather than a rank in a syndicate ... but I do try to be as close to Xavi that we can be called "partners in crime". Nevertheless, the obligations that come with it are part worldly, part otherwordly. I am encouraged to be a special friend, yet I am supposed to be a role model Catholic as well. The latter would be at odds with my personal beliefs, and I admit that this caused me so much distress that at first I had rejected the honor, but then later (after good advice from similarly not-so-Catholic-role-model people) changed my mind, with the blessing of Xavier's parents.

Previously I have given account of the three most difficult periods of my life (yet). Those made it top three because one way or another I felt being bullied at the respective time; by a colleague, by the pain of a failed relationship (but not by the ex-partner herself , of course), and by the bleak odds of getting hired during a global economic crisis. However, the hardship of said breakup was intensified by a very disappointing experience at the end of my time as an undergraduate student. - At the time the highest and also the only undergraduate degree awarded in a Department of Chemistry was that of Diplomchemiker (for those who did not follow a hybrid curriculum with significant time spent on business and economics), which required a four-year course load that was actually more equivalent to the Anglosaxon Master's, as it did comprise certain classes even at the 400 and 500 level, and a thesis that was actually given less time (6-12 months) than a Master's (1-2 years). In my case the thesis was the very last academic challenge, tackled even after the finals. I very much looked forward to it, as it marked a significant change. From then on I was no longer required to nerdly memorize a cohort of bible-sized books, but allowed, even encouraged, to give in to my urge to play around and research. Or so I thought. Turns out, my advisor had little interest in my success, or that of the other Diplomands, he only wanted cheap labor to have his lab equipment assembled. That means he cared more about his machinery being set up that giving us the time we needed to actually use it. To cut a long story short, it was a bad combination of both scientific and managerial incompetence from which I was appalled enough to eventually pursue my PhD elsewhere ... in Berlin. (Yay!) So, there I was (in 2002/2003), still recovering from a bad breakup, sad about not being in Glasgow anymore (read about my Erasmus semester here), upset by the fact that my finals got delayed by the provicial powertrip of a scientific staffer (I'll tell about that another time), grieved by the death of my maternal grandmother, and ultimately disappointed by the (at best) non-existing scientific guidance from my so-called advisor ...

Imagine how emboldened I felt by this generous offer by Simone and Dominik! (Guys, if you ever wondered about the dedication I put in your copy of my Diploma thesis, now you know.) While the title of this post refers just to his First Communion, this holiday has inspired me to reflect a little on the time we have spent together so far. The pride of being entrusted with an important duty has more than outweighed the various difficulties life has had in stash for me since then. This pride got renewed on multiple occasions, whenever I realized that I actually did manage to make a difference for Xavier. I cannot tell you without boasting about it, but I am quite flattered when Xavier tells me that he considers a career in Chemistry ... even thought I feel I should maybe try to protect him from that ... So I he sees in me a role model after all! That makes me think that I may have gotten the better end of the deal ...

Here are some photos after the ceremony at church.

The star of the show, along with his cousin Charlotte, and his father Dominik (purple tie): Xavier Venou Walter.

mother and daughter

Dominik's sister and Xavier's godmother, Annkathrin, along with her family: husband Peter, daughter Charlotte, son Laurenz (in the baby stroller)

after church, at home

the menu

Xavier and Charlotte (I have always wondered if anybody ever read all the books you see in the background.)

great-grandmother Hilde

the three daughters of Hilde (grandma Lissy to the right; grandpa Ferdi in the left background)

proud parents

Xavier checking out the buffet

This is actually a cake!

a drummer and a Latin teacher

the rest of the band: grandpa Ferdi on the bass!

Schloss Kapfenburg + Nördlingen

The same day I posted about past bad experiences in my life, I happened to have another very pleasant one. Enjoying a whole week off duty from work, in order to use up the remainder of my vacation from 2011, I hopped on my car and drove to a town called Nördlingen, following the friendly advice of a friend of mine (Jörg, the husband of Nina). Knowing only that Nördlingen is a picturesque town, I was still pleasantly surprised how true this actually is.

On the road from Oberkochen to Nördlingen, which is a total drive of 30+ min, I also encountered a castle by the name of Kapfenburg. - A "castle", being a "castellum" in the Latin original, would denote a type of fortified structure, like the German "Burg"; however, the German "Schloss", while being related to the German verb "schließen" (to close, to lock), nowadays refers to a rather unfortified palace-like home of great splendor. Nevertheless, apparently owing to the etymology of Schloss, the two meanings are not fully separated, and hence Kapfenburg is actually Schloss Kapfenburg. Despite several attacks on the compound, it is in an excellent state till the present day and thus open for (free) visits, and also the home of a musical academy (I could hear them practice), plus the location of a restaurant that is specialized on weddings. In light of the breathtaking view from the hilltop, I can definitely see how that would be a good choice, even without having tried their menu.

Schloss Kapfenburg

Schloss Kapfenburg - gate details

Schloss Kapfenburg - a citadel-type building within

Schloss Kapfenburg - the interior side of the gate

Nördlingen itself also made it through history without significant damage. Centuries ago it was styled a Freie und Reichsstadt (contracted to Freie Reichsstadt, or Free City of the Empire, in the vernacular). The empire, or Reich, in question, was the Holy Roman Empire (later: Holy Roman Empire of the German Nation), a succession state of the Carolingian Empire of Charlemagne (Charles the Great). It was Charlemagne who adopted the title of emperor from the waning (western) Roman Empire (waning in particular because it had been split in west and east; the eastern part being the Byzanine Empire). (Note that in these times each part of the empire had a prime ruler, the Imperator, and a second in command, the Caesar, the Latin original of Cesar. Ironically, the German word for emperor, which is obviously derived from imperator, is Kaiser, which itself is derived from Caesar.) - The sons of Charlemagne soon engaged in a succesion war, which ultimately resulted in a division of the former western Roman empire in a western Franconian realm and an eastern Franconian realm. The latter then became the Holy Roman Empire under the regnum of the Ottonians (at first), and was to last until the 19th century, when Napoléon Bonaparte from the former western part of the Franconian realm, now known as France, challenged the east (or what was left of it after such notable conflicts as the Thirty Years' War between Protestants and Catholics) for the throne and the imperial crown. Being a highly capable military commander, he defeated most everyone in Europe and declared himself Emperor of France, thus extinguishing the Holy Roman Empire of the German Nation. The latter, however, maintained a successor from its own ranks in the house of Habsburg, which continued to rule over Austria. Ever since this "schism" (of the imperial style between France and Austria) modern-day Austria and Germany have been separate countries (if we disregard a short period of reunification in the darkest of times in the 20th century). Napoléon, also a very cunning man, promoted many members of the German nobility, and especially the elevation from Duke to King (e.g. in Bavaria) gave some of them a feeling of independence that competed with the idea of belonging to a greater entity. When the Bonaparte dynasty faded (still within the 19th century), and Germany was reunited under the lead of Prussia, the German Empire was formed/restored. Austria, however, remained separate, and continued to uphold its own imperial style. Thus, in 1914, there were five great powers in Europe who clashed over their (colonial) expansionism: Russia, France, England, Germany, and Austria. Eventually, in 1918, the Austro-German alliance was defeated, and the German Emperor was forced to abdicate, giving way for the first Republican government on German soil. Unfortunately, World War I had wrecked the German economy, had empoverished much of the German population, and some people wanted revenge on the French for the defeat. Therefore, Hitler was able to assume absolute power and establish his reign of terror, which took an estimated death toll of 60 - 70 million, but fortunately ended long before the proclaimed 1,000 years it was supposed to last.

I apologize for deviating from the original topic of Freie Reichsstadt by this much. But I intended to point out that although in the anglophonic community the word Reich may be primarily associated with the unholy Third Reich, it is not per se the term under which Hitler's evildoing is best subsumed. In fact, the idea of a Reich is associated with a monarchy, and Hitler was not a monarch, rather than a dictator. (Likewise, a monarchy is not neccessarily the opposite of a democracy, as it is easily exemplified by the UK. The opposite of a monarchy is a republic; i.e., a nation whose head of state is elected and not crowned.) Nevertheless, Hitler saw his ruling as Reich #3, where #1 was the Holy Roman Empire (962-1806), and #2 was the rather short-lived German Empire (1871-1918). - By the way, I remember once reading about Germany in the CIA factbook that it had achieved its "independence" in 1871. That is a rather crude misrepresentation of the historical accounts: in light of the historical roots the concept of gaining Independence does not apply to Germany, but then again, it is an American source, and in American history forming a nation required gaining independence. It is true though that the moment of forming the nation of Germany is usually attributed to the creation of the German Empire.

There is another reason why I layed out the history of Germany by this extent. Previously I have told you about the three most difficult times in my life. They appear to have occurred in ascending order: #3 civilian service, #2 a bad breakup, #1 recent unemployment. Likewise, the three German Reiche (the plural of Reich) appear to have an increased moral corruption, in my personal, naïve perception: #1 was an entity struggling for power with its neighbors and rivals from within, but neccessarily (to the best of my knowledge) an example for cruely and barbaric behavior that goes beyond its contemporaries. #2 was looking for a fight with its neighbors, but at the end of the day the neighbors were eager themselves to slug it out for the lead in Europe. It was the cruelty of ensuing World War I (chemical weapons, trench warfare, introduction of the battle tank etc.) that leaves the German Empire in a bad light. Yet #3, as much as it ashames me, is now for all times the textbook example of a rogue state and an enemy to humanity.

Therefore, let's enjoy the scenic sight of Nördlingen, and for the moment forget about the Nazi horror.

Nördlingen - church of St. Georg from afar

Nördlingen - one of the city gates

St. Georg from below

typical house in Nördlingen

Nördlingen - another city gate

steep (!) stairs inside the tower at the (second) city gate

first city gate again, seen from inside

"He who prefers safety over freedom deserves being enslaved."

beautiful sunset just outside the city wall of Nördlingen

Happiness - A Matter of Perspective

This post will be different. I won't feature a photo, or any other type of media. It will consist of mere text. It will also tell you more about the way I feel, rather than the way I think.

Recently the military draft system in Germany has been suspended. As per the German constitution (the Grundgesetz, or basic law, § 4.3), "noone shall be forced to do military service bearing arms, against their conscience. Further details are regulated by a federal law." Said details involve how a male German at the relevant age was allowed to dodge military service by performing a civilian service, which typically consisted of assisting the staff in a hospital, or an educational institution. Some even got to drive an ambulance.

When I reached the age of 18, I was told to report to a military office in Saarbrücken, where I would have to undergo a medical check-up. It was also to be determined on that day when and where I would have to serve. Owing to a peculiarity of the German secondary schools, I was going to graduate only at age 20, so my actual service was postponed by another two years. Also, the day of the medical examination I already filed for the option of civilian service. Now, legally speaking it isn't really an option, rather than a replacement, as the military service was considered the standard way, and the civilian service an exemption; this did not change the fact that in my generation about 50% of the young German males rejected military service and were accepted into civilian service; not least because civilian service personnel was considered an important factor in staffing hospitals and other community institutions.

Nevertheless, in order to be accepted one had to write an essay, laying down the reasons why one's conscience would not allow a participation in an armed conflict. I remember stressing on my upbringing, on attending a catholic high school, on watching influencial movies such as Full Metal Jacket, and on other similar things ... I eventually received a letter from a federal office that said I was exempt from the military and could serve the civilian way, and that this decision could not be legally challenged. I was quite happy, because besides the prospect of actually killing someone, which I honestly would not want to do, I have always imagined the military as a place where people get yelled at, and have to perform dull tasks. Instead, I thought of the civilian service as a satisfying commitment; especially at that kindergarden where I was going to perform my duties. In hindsight, this is quite ironic ...

The idea of serving in a kindergarden was originally my mom's, who encouraged me to seek a post where I could rely on my ease of connecting with children. Sounded great to me, too. So I ended up being hired by a charity organization; in order to assume the preferred duty station, one has to acquire the post themselves, present it to the authorities, and the wait to have it formally approved. That's how it worked for me, and after a proud and joyful graduation from high school in June 1996, I started my civilian service on September 2, 1996. (Typically the service starts on a first of a month, but in my case that would have been a Sunday, so I had formally one day less of service, and in practice one day less of pay.)

It started out fine, and as it happened my "predecessor" was still around for a few weeks. He had to serve a total of 15 months, while it had been reduced to 13 months right before my term started. By coincidence he was also the son of a former high school teacher of mine; a lady who has enabled me (quite well) to read Latin texts (up to the point of being able to follow Julius Cesar's accounts of his war against the Gauls). Therefore, although this guy (who had also attended the same school) and I had never been socially involved, we did know one another, and he knew that I had been a successful student (in all modesty I ranked third out of more than 80 students in my year). While for me this was an obligation to perform well also in this new environment, for one of the staff it became the ultimate reason to bully me all the way through my 13 months of civilian service.

At this point you perhaps exclaim, wait a minute - how can you be bullied by a member of the staff of a kindergarden? Aren't these supposed to be nice ladies (ofr, less often, gentlemen) who read fairy tales to the little ones, and offer sweet treats to anyone who comes around? Or so I thought myself, in all naïveté, and of course I would never have revealed my scholastic achievements to my new colleages without them asking - it was the other guy who hinted it to them, and when they asked I had no choice but to answer.

That alone would haven't led anywhere. Turns out, one of the four permanent staff ladies (two for each group of fifteen children) apparently envied me for my past and future academic ambitions (college was next for me), especially because she had acquired her permission to attend college in televised classes, and still at her age (then mid-thirties) she would have to find a source of money to get her actually all the way through that stage, while I could still rely on my parents to fund me. So, obviously I was privileged, and she was not, but I would like to think that I earned my tertiary education, and that I belonged in college, and even in grad school. I feel sorry that said lady could not live her dream, but it wasn't right of her to take it out on me. I would like to refrain from whining about each and every incident, because that was not my goal when I started this post, and especially because this happened many years ago.

Nevertheless, I feel I should exemplify the lady's behavior, and there was one particularly revealing incident: one day another kindergarden, who belonged to the same organization but didn't have anyone performing his civilian service at that time, decided to go on a day trip to an amusement park. Therefore they requested that I be their driver for that one day. So I hopped on one of the vans the charity organization actually owned in two-digit numbers, drove to the other kindergarden, then onward to the amusement park, and finally back home. Everyone was happy, and the staff of the other kindergarden and I apparently clicked pretty well. A few days later I was told by my bully colleague that they liked me so much that they would even hire me, as the post of doing civilian service continued to be vacant; but she went on and told me that she couldn't understand why anyone would like to do something like that. - That compliment was a tad tainted, to say the least, eh?

Again, my intention is not to whine about such (obviously) unfair treatment, nor to publicly expose an old bully. While such erratic behavior still leaves me speechless, in particular when shown by someone who is entrusted with the well-being of three to six year old, at the time I felt I could not fight back - because of the little children. And it was them who helped me to get through this dark period, because at the end of the day my mom was right: I did enjoy their company. It enabled me to be walking tall, despite the hostilities I was receiving.

Now, this is how far I can stick out my neck without sounding too self-righteous. And in fact, I wanted to share a lesson learned on happiness: if you are able to find it somewhere, then many a hardship becomes bearable. Not all, but many. To put it into perspective, my civilian service turned out to be the third most difficult time of my life (as of today). The second most difficult time was due to a very painful breakup. The foremost difficult time of my life so far was the period of unemployment after coming home from my postdoc. Hence, another lesson learned: everything is easier if I have the benefit of feeling useful ... Luckily, there was a happy ending; so if I do an occasional whining about the lack of entertainment in my new home town, please bear in mind that the alternative of being unemployed would mean to me the very essence of doom.

A Sort of Homecoming

Once more it took me longer than anticipated (and than I had hoped) to update this blog. In case you are still bearing with me, thank you for your patience!

The previous post was a bit of escapism, telling you how I travel around between Stuttgart, Ulm, and Oberkochen, in order to escape the scarse supply of entertainment in town, and the dullness of not being online at home. Now, as to the latter, this has been remedied since about one month ago, which is now enabling me to post more regularly ... or so I wish. The former isn't actually so bad asit may have sounded in the revious post. I just needed to adjust a little more and find some hobbies I can pursue on my own.
I would like to prove that I have found more than one such occupation. In principle I have been a lover of photography (myself taking the photo, that is) for a long time. Recently I awarded myself for (re-)joining the work force with a new DSLR camera the technical possibilities of which certainly outdo my skills at this point. But I will accept the challenge and try to become an even more avid picture taker (and, by extension, an even more dedicated blogger) in the future. - The other hobby I have come to indulge in is cooking.
But let's have a look at the photos in this post. Starting out with the visit of my godchild and his parents (which, by coincidence, took place on the very weekend I had posted that whiny complaint about the lack of distraction in Oberkochen), we find that I am still in touch with them, and this time it took them only a few months to come and see me after I had moved to a new location. Not that I would blame them - having a family means a lot of your spare time is booked already. Nevertheless, (a)-(d) show that they were here, and we were having a great time together!
The next highlight was my quick and spontaneous getaway to Munich, for New Year's Eve and New Year's Day. Despite spending only one night there, I got to see much of the downtown area ((e), (f), (i), (j)), I rode the subway ("U-Bahn") to move around the city ((g) was taken at Marienplatz, beneath the City Hall), I went on top of the TV tower at the Olympic Stadium of 1972 ((h), I will have to do this again when it is allowed to access the open platform, so there won't be any reflections from the windows), I had several slices of really delicious pizza at La Pizzetta ((k), note that Munich is only a couple of hours away from Italy), and some equally satisfying ice cream next door at Häagen Dazs, but by then I had grown weary of walking in the rain, so I decided to return to the hotel and await the new year in a supine position (i.e., watching television). Nevertheless, on the way back I came by the central train station, where I bought a piccolo size bottle of champaign and a bag of potato chips for a proper welcome celebration for 2012. (After all, I was having much greater expectations for this year than I was having for the one before ...) So I did celebrate a bit, even if it wasn't in the company of other folks. And finally, the next day I had an original Bavarian lunch at Augustiner, a local micro brewery ((l) wild boar, a dumpling, mushrooms, and some berries). In fact, I had a late Bavarian lunch the day before, too, but there is no photo. Either way, Bavaria is beer country, so there was no peril of going thirsty ...
Back at home in Oberkochen, I recently continued to practice my photographing skills, and the results can be examined in (m)-(o). As to the cooking, last weekend I prepared scallops as my Sunday lunch ((p) a dish I have picked up from my mother's finer repertoire; i.e., for rather special occasions, or at least for a Sunday).
Today, I eventually decided to familiarize myself a little more with Oberkochen, and thus to climb on top of the Volkmarsberg, the local mountain with an outlook tower. Given the beatiful sunshine I seemed like a brilliant idea to do this, and to take the new camera out for yet another sightseeing session. I did get a few nice shots ((q)-(s)), but I never made it up to the tower. Unfortunately the sunshine comes at a price, which is a hefty freezing cold temperature. Americans would refer to this as being "in the low single digits": i.e., around 0-5°F. Everyone else is using the Ceslius scale, so it is around -15°C. After walking for about 15 min in that cold I arrived at a parking lot where Oberkochen borders the forest. There was a sign that the tower was another 25 min away, so I lost my enthusiasm and just took a few shots from the parking lot. After all it is already nicely above the town, and it offers a great view. I'll visit the outlook tower when I can do so safely without a jacket. Fingers crossed that there will be just as much sunshine as today on a weekend in spring, because the tower opens only on Saturday afternoons, and Sundays.
I would like to conclude by saying that I have come to view Oberkochen as my home every day a little more ... as long as I don't have to shovel snow!