Altstadtfest Saarbrücken 2011

In the Saarland, my home state within Germany, it is a long-standing tradition (and also a reflection of the people's approach to life) to have weekend festivals throughout the summer. Each and every city, town and village has its own festival at a given weekend in summer, so during that time you have a lot of choice where to celebrate your weekend.
This weekend (June 17-19, 2011) it was Saarbrücken's turn. Frequent readers of my blog may remember that Saarbrücken is both the capital of the Saarland and my place of birth. It may not be as glamorous as Chicago or Berlin, or even other cities that are closer to Saarbrücken populationwise, but it is the Saarland's central hub for pretty much everything, and I do enjoy a little shopping spree at the pedestrian zone, not only for sentimental reasons.
Saarbrücken is actually quite pretty, in certain areas at least. Among them is the Old City, which has its roots in times long bygone. Hence the idea to celebrate there; "Alt / stadt / fest" literally means "Old City Festival". - Since I like etymological topics, I would like to stress that Saarbrücken appears to translate as "Saar Bridges" (the Saar being the main river), but according to the German Wikipedia page "Brücken" is related to "Briga" (rock), or less likely to "Broich" (swamp). The river Saar has its name from the Celtic word "Sara", meaning "flowing water". Finally, please note that, defying standard German grammar, the demonym is not "Saarbrückener", but "Saarbrücker".
The historical area of Saarbrücken features an original palace, which once was the home of the counts of Nassau-Saarbücken. It is located on a little hill from where the river Saar can be watched. The top left photo shows the courtyard as seen from the open side of the U-shaped complex. (If you look closely you may discover a couple of newly weds that apparently came there for a photoshoot.) The photo in the center shows the view from the garden across the river. (The garden is to the left of the palace in the first photo.)
The pompous building to the right is the Staatstheater, an important witness to the Saarland's turbulent past. As a result to Germany's defeat in World War I, the Saarland (then an industrial powerhouse with numerous steel factories and coal mines) was seized by the French as a means of compensation, and also protection against retaliation. Politically, the Saarland was under direct administration of the League of Nations, the predecessor of today's United Nations. However, a referendum among its population returned the Saarland to Germany, which by that time was already the infamous Nazi state. Hitler was so pleased by the outcome of the referendum that he granted the Staatstheater to the Saarland's capital. In fact, the theater is built in the neo-classical style the Nazis were enamoured by ... Despite the dark history, the Staatstheater is the main site in Saarbrücken for performing arts, such as plays, operas and classical concerts.
The bottom left photo gives a glimpse on the A620, the city highway that passes right along the banks of the Saar. The close proximity allows for a nice view while driving on this road, but since the Saar's sources are in the (French) Vosges Mountains, the A620 is always flooded in spring time ...
After this history lesson I would like to pass on to the culinary specialties of our region. The influence of our French neighbors is omnipresent, and while the French language isn't exactly popular among school kids, I haven't met a single Saarländer who didn't like the French cuisine. Therefore, I made good use of this opportunity to eat some really good food. In chronological order I had: a merguez sausage (which looked infinitely better than on Wikipedia), a Schwenker steak (which wasn't real as it came from an ordinary grill), an onion-bacon quiche type flatbread (actually from the Baden region - the vendors apparently travel to many such festivals throughout the summer season; it was very yummy regardless), one 0.3L beer, a crêpe filled with Nutella (the consistency of which is very much like peanut butter), a seafood pot with rice (similar to the Spanish paella; Spain is a southern neighbor of France) along with a glass of white wine called "Entre Deux Mers" ("In Between Two Seas"), and lastly another 0.3L beer (which is the one on the large photo on the right).
Home sweet home!

"The Owl's Nest"

I have to make a confession. Although I am a scientist, which implies (in a zero-order approximation) that I should be a no-nonsense person with utmost dedication to my profession (in other words, a textbook stereotypical German), I love to play around. I like many different computer games, and in particular I have been for years a fan of the games created by Pastel Games. The name of this company is a reference to its founder, Mateusz Skutnik, who not only holds a degree in architecture, but is also a very gifted artist, photographer, narrator, and game designer. His signature game series is Submachine, which I am truly addicted to. The games fall into the point-and-click category, where the player shares the first-person view with his in-game character (see attached image). Navigation and interaction with the in-game environment is done by mouse-over and click, provided the selected item or adjacent location are available for that. One makes progress in the game by picking up items (maybe combining some in the inventory) and solving riddles. For instance, in some of the Submachine games new locations can be reached by teleporting, which in some cases is done by entering a three-digit code. However, only a few out of the potential 1,000 combinations will actually activate the teleporter, so tasks must be carried out to learn the coordinates that work. Also, sometimes a door must be opened to access the teleporter itself, which may be done by cooking up a corrosive chemical from inventory items and then spilling the fluid into the door locking mechanism. Some of the riddles are hard, which is probably why the games have such a loyal fan base. The often dystopic ambient (demonstrating the artistic talent of Mr. Skutnik) adds an extra thrill (for me, that is).
A recent release from Pastel Games, and here comes the punchline, has been named The Owl's Nest. I think the identity of the names is purely coincidental, since this blog has been around since long before the inception of the game, and I have a hard time believing that the Pastel Games crew actually reads my blog (although I would be quite flattered, of course). This particular game takes you inside a Nazi German bunker that must be explored, in order to find out what happened there. (Don't worry, the Nazi aspect is only for extra creeps, as they are the antagonists, much like in the Indiana Jones movies #1 and 3.)
If you would like to give The Owl's Nest a try, please click here. Oh, and don't be depressed if you get stuck - that happens to the best of us, frequently! There is also a walkthrough ... I never finished any of their games without peeking at least once ...

Women in Science (xkcd)

This cartoon is hotlinked from cartoonist xkcd's web site. It struck a chord with me, because it made me think (again) about the abundance (or the lack thereof) of female scientists. I would like to share just a few facts from my own scientific career.
First of all, we must define a starting point for my becoming a scientist. I suggest we pick the time when I entered the final two years in secondary school (Gymnasium), because that was the first time I was allowed to choose a slant in my class schedule toward science and mathematics.
Specifically I picked Physics and Chemistry as two topics in which I took the written Abitur exam. There was only one female student in the Physics class, but I would say that in Chemistry it was almost even. In fact, there was another Chemistry class at other times of the week, so as to ensure all students get their favorite combinations of classes, and thus we should look at both Chemistry classes combined. I don't remember everyone after 15 years, especially since the second class took place at our partner school, but my feeling is that the percentage of female students in the combined classes ranked between 30 and 50%.
Then I went on to do my civilian service, a military service substitute, which I did in a kindergarten. There, the staff consisted of four female full-time employees, a female trainee, and myself. The principal was also female, but since she was in charge of multiple institutions, she had her office somewhere else, and she showed up only once a week.
College was next, which I started as an Electrical Engineering major. Slightly more than 50 people started with me, of which only 3 were women. One actually quit after the first term, but another one, who is from an Arabic country, later went all the way to her PhD, and in the process she kicked everyone's behind whenever it came to do math.
In fact, I also quit doing EE, to pursue a Chemistry degree instead. Again, the gender distribution was about balanced, actually with a slight excess of women (due to that fraction of students who specialized in Food Chemistry). Eventually I graduated, after a year-long final research project, and when I left for Berlin, the three graduate students who were in that group at that time for their own doctorates were all female.
I don't have comprehensive information on the gender composition of the CP department of the FHI Berlin, because not only was the group too big to assess something like this in retrospect only - there was also a significant fluctuation of staff, so this variation makes it impossible for me to correctly remember everyone. Yet I can offer a survey on the people who worked directly with me: four females and two males.
In Chicago I was in charge of providing training to the students who were assigned to work on the same equipment: three females and one male (even though the male student overlapped with me only for a few weeks, after which he went to Berlin, where he worked on "my" old experiment, and he actually taught me more about the Chicago chamber than I taught him about science in general).
To sum up, there is much female talent in science, and the fact that that there are only few female professors is most likely due to the "glass ceiling" effect. - Other explanations are welcome, especially from female scientists!

First Things First, or What?

The original idea behind this little blog of mine was to keep all of my friends posted during my American adventure from 2008 - 2010. However, a fact I haven't addressed too often here is that Chicago wasn't the first foreign place I have lived in, and today I would like to report a little bit on that. The reason for this is that earlier on today I got word from my former advisor, Dr. David Lennon, (who is a "supervisor" in British English, actually an Englishman, and anyways someone I look up to as a scientist and a person alike) that the work I was involved in finally got accepted for publication. By a funny coincidence, some of the people I later worked with in Berlin are co-authors of this paper as well. So, Chicago didn't mark my first stay in an anglophonic country, even though the accents from Chicago and Glasgow couldn't probably be any more different from each other ... the latter being by far the thickest I have encountered so far. (But in a sense the two cities share being rooted in working class culture.)
I am particularly fond of my Glaswegian experience, because it was there that for the first time I was treated like a real researcher. Ten years back the Anglo-American and the German educational systems were distinctly different from each other, as only more recently Germany and the rest of the EU introduced the three-tier Bachelor / Master / Doctor degrees; formerly the German undergraduate level ended with a Diploma, a Magister, or a Federal Exam, all being almost peers to a Master's degree, and also taking respecively more time. As a student of Chemistry at the TU Kaiserslautern, I was required to do three six-week research projects, one in each of the principal topics of Inorganic, Organic, and Physical Chemistry. I was pleased to learn that my alma mater had signed collaboration treaties with various other universities across Europe to facilitate the mutual exchange of students. (Foreign experience is a much-cherished value over here.) In the Sciences this is particularly easy, as it isn't so important where the lab is located that the student is working in; and the core of the deal was that Kaiserslautern students could substitute one of their three domestic research projects with the one abroad. There were two major benefits for me: I got to gain for the first time some international work experience, and it was handed to me on a silver platter: while it is usually a bureaucratic mess to temporarily leave one's home university to attend another one, this agreement was specifically designed to encourage just that. Oh, and there was even a little bit of money involved to cover my travel expenses. A triple Hooray to the "Erasmus program"!
As a result of this wonderful invention I could go to Glasgow from early April to mid July 2002. As I have hinted above, people from where I completed my doctorate were also involved in the Glasgow project - it so happened that the day I introduced myself to David Lennon in his office, Hajo Freund from Berlin called him to talk about the results ... and since they were confidential, I, as the new guy, actually had to leave the room for the time of their conversation. Still, I added my little share to the progress, and at the end of the day I even earned the second spot on the authors' list. (The person in front of me is Alastair, Scottish for Alexander.) And due to the longer duration of this assignment I got involved more in the science than I could have ever been in the other two undergraduate projects in Germany, which gave me much satisfaction. (Sadly, the other two didn't give me much satisfaction at all, for different reasons.)
However, the highlight of this time clearly was a meeting of all research groups from Scotland that work in the field of heterogeneous catalysis. This meeting has a tradition and takes place every year in May, in a youth-hostel style cabin on the shores of Lake Tay in the Southern Highlands. I retrieved a representative photograph from the depths of the Internet to share with you the beauty of the place. The meeting consumed four days, of which only half were dedicated to science, and the other half to outdoor activities. So it came to pass that I engaged in the Scottish national sport called hillwalking, which is a euphemism for serious uphill hiking in the Highlands. My legs felt like jelly, but I did make it all the way to the peak of the hill, where I saw patches of snow as big as 10x10 m^2 even in late spring. I am a fan of eating, so to speak, but the little snack we had there was especially delicious! - The next day my legs were incredibly sore, but I went on a little bike ride with another student participant, and at night I managed to win the ping-pong tournament. (In the final game I beat David, my boss.) But I guess the fact that we had a ping-pong table in our garage when I was a kid probably gave me a head start ...
By the way, there are two reasons why I had to download someone else's picture to illustrate Lake Tay. Digital cameras were the exception rather than the rule, and hence way beyond my tiny student's budget. And I also relied on my then-girlfriend, a hobby photographer, to take the pictures for me when she came to visit me for two weeks; but we broke up shortly after my return to Germany, so all the pictures stayed with her. As sad as I was at the time, being single granted me the freedom to fully dedicate myself to science ever since. You might say, that ever since this break-up I have been in league, but not in bed, with science ...

Luck Be a Lady Tonight

... that's the title of a classic Frank Sinatra song, which appropriately describes my most recent night out. On Good Friday (yesterday) I received a call from an old friend of mine, Anne, to hang out the same night with herself and our common friends, Cornelia (Conny) and Nicole. It was some sort of a tiny class reunion, since the four of us all graduated in 1996. Nicole did not actually attend Albertus Magnus Gymnasium, but Leibniz Gymnasium, the other secondary school in St. Ingbert from which a graduation grants access to all university studies. However, it is typical that schools in the same town collaborate in the two final years, so as to provide all students their preferred selection of classes. Therefore, Nicole was in my French class, and we took the final written exam called Abitur together at AMG. The Abitur is anyways centralized in our home state, meaning all students in the entire Saarland who selected a specific class at the advanced level (of which each student must pick three) will take the exact same final at the exact same time.
It was a very nice opportunity to reunite with the three, whom I haven't seen in many years. Anne was the one I had seen last - at the wedding of Dominik and Simone, in August 2004. So we had a lot of catching up to do, since Anne (the valedictorian of Albertus Magnus Gymnasium's class of 1996, and now an employee of the local government) and Nicole (a pharmacist) have children, Conny (an MD) recently finished her specialization as a surgeon), and I spent much time on doing scientific research in Berlin and Chicago.
After a tasty dinner Nicole had to leave us, but I seized the day and got the picture that ornates this post. From left to right: Anne, Conny, Nicole. The former two and I went on to a bar to have one more drink, with some more chit-chat being done, until we called it a night.
Afterwards I was forced to admit that there is indeed life outside the science community ...

Celts Exhibition and Vapiano Restaurant ... with Children!

Yesterday I went on a long-planned excursion, together with my friends Simone and Dominik and their children Xavier and Noëlle. Simone, Dominik and I are members of the Albertus-Magnus-Gymnasium's "Class of 1996"; a Gymnasium being the type of secondary school that grants university admission. Since our friendship goes back such a long time, I was offered to become the godfather of their first child, an honor I gladly accepted (however, not without pointing out that, being a skeptic, I may not be the prime choice for this duty).
After being away in Berlin (2004-2008) and Chicago (2008-2010) I am quite happy that I am currently able to spend a lot more time with Xavier, and of course also with Noëlle. Often I just pass by their house when I go out, but this time we actually had an appointment - we had planned for a long time to see the Celts exhibition at the nearby town of Völklingen. The top left photo shows the four of them on the train. Taking the train was a prudent choice, since we could have a little walk in our hometown (St. Ingbert) to reach the station, and at Völklingen the exhibition site was right next to the station there. The top right photo shows the outside of the place, which is actually an UNESCO World Heritage in its own right. Decades ago, our region used to be an industrial hotspot, producing tons of charcoal and steel, but having found no worthwile replacement, we currently have significant problems with unemployment. (Ultimately, if there were more high technology companies, I might have found a job myself already.) So, this World Heritage site is a now-defunct steel factory, which you can see on the bottom left photo. Actually, this was a suitable idea, because the Celts were the Iron Age people of Europe. Yet, as I have learned, there was never a coherent Celtic culture, and they didn't perceive themselves as one people, but rather as independent tribes with significant differences among them; the main thing they had in common was actually the ability of making items from iron. Unfortunately I didn't take any pictures inside the exhibition, because it didn't appear I was permitted to do so. Anyways, it was worth the money, and I am glad we went there.
Actually, we were accompanied by Maria and Wolfram (friends of Simone's and Dominik's), their son Jannis, and his friend Valeria. That means we were a group with four children, the oldest of which (Xavier) will turn 8 this summer. For the little ones the exhibition maybe wasn't the excitement of their lifetimes, but I don't think they were having an outspokenly bad time, either. Nevertheless, they obviously liked the next stop much better - the Vapiano restaurant at Saarbrücken, which is about half-way back to St. Ingbert. We had some Italian refreshments (pasta, pizza, salad), and even though I would translate Vapiano as "tread lightly", the kids had all the action there that they couldn't have at the Celts exhibition ... The bottom right photo shows everyone at the dinner table.
Anyways, it was a great day, and I would prefer to do more trips of this kind!

Nina's Birthday Party (Merzbach), Porta Nigra (Trier)

Yesterday I went on a day trip to visit my old friend Nina, her husband Jörg and their baby boy, Moritz. Much to my own shame I must confess that I did not attend Nina's and Jörg's wedding, because it took place while I was in Chicago. (Likewise, I skipped another friend's wedding for the same reason, and since she also had a baby boy recently, I may go on another trip soon(ish), and I will then report on that, too ... Ironically, my friend Homa from Chicago is getting married these days, and I was forced to turn down her invitation as well.)
Nina (to the left in the top left photo) and I became friends in college. We both were chemistry majors in Kaiserslautern (which you may find on the map of Germany that shows my travel route a bit to the east of the starting point near Saarbrücken), and so were in fact most people you see on the first photo. Not all of them were in our year, but Britta and Stephanie ("Steffi") were. Britta is the blonde holding Moritz (I apologize for using the wrong shutter setting for this shot), and Steffi is the brunette watching over the snoozing baby.
Nina, Steffi and Britta form an interesting triangle. Nina and Steffi go back a long way, having been even high school class mates. If I remember correctly, chemistry wasn't the first choice for either one, but that's what they ended up with. (In the first two years they were roommates.) Going with chemistry apparently didn't hurt them too much, I guess, since both met their husbands. Britta, on the other hand, was Nina's companion in Glasgow, Scotland, for one semester abroad; an adventure I was also a part of. Steffi and Britta later went on to do a PhD in physical chemistry with the same advisor (I left that group for Berlin after the final undergraduate thesis), while Nina did hers in organic chemistry.
Now, yesterday's journey of mine began as early as 6:30 am, when I left the house to walk to the train station. At around 7, I hopped on the first train, which took me as far as Saarbrücken ... only a 10 mile ride. After a ten minute layover, I hopped on another train to Trier, which took 90 minutes, and where I had a full hour wait until I could continue. From Trier I went on to Euskirchen. There I only had to cross the platform, where the last train to Rheinbach was already preparing for its departure. Since I was a little early for the party, I had a snack at that train station, until I took a bus to Merzbach, where Nina, Jörg and Moritz currently reside. Total duration, one way: seven hours. I stayed at the party for about three hours ... then I had to leave to be home without spending a night at a train station in the goonies. Jörg gave me a ride back to Rheinbach, and guess what? The train I was supposed to take from there was cancelled! That meant an extra 30 min wait before I could ride back to Euskirchen (only 15 min). There I found, much to my relief, that a train to Trier would leave soon, and be there at 8 pm. From there trains depart for Saarbrücken every hour until very late (and more than a few actually go as far as Homburg or Kaiserslautern for which they have to pass through my hometown, St. Ingbert).
In Trier, I was stalled for another hour, so I decided to do a quick sight seeing trip. Trier happens to be the oldest settlement in Germany, being founded more than 2,000 years ago by the Romans. The so-called Porta Nigra (or Black Gate), has been left by them and can be visited. It is located only a few minutes from the train station in Trier (which the Romans used to call Augusta Treverorum), so I decided to seize the day and take a few pictures. (I am sharing my favorite with you on the bottom left.) - Eventually, I rode to Saarbrücken, and since this train does go to Homburg, but not on Saturdays, I had another final layover there.
When you look at the map, you will find my traveling route indicated. I find it a bit ridiculous that was on the train(s) for five hours one way, when the net traveling time was actually only 3.5 hours. But there are two problems: first, I used the so-called Happy Weekend Ticket (39 €), by which you can use all short-distance trains on one weekend day (which must be designated prior to the trip). You may even bring a long a few others, but the ticket must be signed, so the holder must be present and cannot pass the ticket on to someone else when he doesn't need it anymore.
The second problem is that there weren't any long distance trains available that would go, say, from Saarbrücken to Cologne on my route, because (I think) those can't used the existing tracks. Taking long distance trains would have deviated me so much that the trip would have been only (much) more expensive, but not faster.
I wish they would introduce a fast connection from Saarbrücken to Cologne, or at least make the layovers significantly shorter, but another problem is that there are more hills than population between Trier and Euskirchen/Cologne, so this will probably remain wishful thinking in the foreseeable future.
Nevertheless, I had an awesome day, and it was particularly nice to reunite with so many friends, even for just a short time. Additionally, the weather improved a lot throughout yesterday, from rainy-gray to spring-like. I think I have to see them again soon, also because it has just occurred to me that I didn't taste any of Nina's father's products yesterday - the man runs his own vineyard!