6.20.2005

Globetrotter Grady in Amsterdam

Continuing in the travel journal mindset, let's talk a bit about Amsterdam, where I went along with a bunch of other people on the Münster program this past weekend. And what a weekend it was.

First off, we left the Münster Hauptbahnhof on Friday, and made it as far as Bad Bentheim on the German border before we found out that the railroad employees in the Netherlands were on strike. So we piled off the train the train and onto buses, for which we paid 35€. The theory was that we would be reimbursed, but it looks as though Deutsche Bahn might have other ideas. Anyhow.

We got to Amsterdam without a definite place to stay, which is not the best idea in the world, but luckily there were enough spots left at a place called Hans Brinker. Not quite expensive enough to be a hotel, not quite sketchy enough to be a hostel, it occupies a delightfully ambiguous middle ground. It had hostel style rooms, so you probably get to stay with a bunch of people you don't know, but it was cheap, not horribly dirty, and it had a bar/resturant/common room type of thing on the first floor. Quality place.

The most important thing to know about Amsterdam is this: when you're walking around the city, there will be signposts at many corners with writing on them. Those are not the names of streets. The names of steets are on placards attached to the sides of buildings on the corner. Very important.

So over the course of the next two days, I got to see the Van Gogh Musuem, the Rijcks Museum, the Heineken Experience (actually really cool), walk through De Wallen (without making a stop anywhere, sadly), and visit a coffee shop to sample their selection of pot brownies, pot bonbons, pot muffins, pot milkshakes, and pot. So all in all, it was a really awesome trip. Two and a half days, though, is time to do no more than scratch the surface; the city is amazing and huge, and there were about twenty other things I would have liked to have done. Another time.

Amsterdam is not nearly as seedy as everyone makes it out to be, particularly the red light district. Yes, true, there are real, live prostitutes lining the streets, but there are also real, live tourists filling every nook and cranny as well. There are flashy lights and loud music and people absolutely everywhere. The first couple of times I felt someone's hand in my pocket I got pretty excited, but the thrird time it happened I realized it was merely one of Amsterdam's famous pickpockets plying his noble trade. Thank god I had nothing worth stealing. Though most people will tell you to worry about muggers and whatnot, the street cleaners in Amsterdam are definitely the scariest thing about the city. I saw them eat at least three people.

In the end, it was a great time. The museums were cheap and incredible. The pot also was not to be sneezed at. I had a joint and a brownie, and finally got good and properly stoned for the first, and probably last, time in my life. I think there are pictures of it somewhere; I definitely remember bright flashes of light. The best part was that the pre-rolled joints come in little factory sealed packages. Factory sealed pot. Beautiful.

6.16.2005

Ein Kommentar

We read a short fable by Kafka today in the German literature course I'm kind of taking here in Münster. It seemed really good to me, so feast your eyes upon both the original, a translation by my own hand, and some comments we made about it.

Ein Kommentar
Es war sehr früh am Morgen, die Straβen rein und leer, ich ging zum Bahnhof. Als ich eine Turmuhr mit meiner verglich, sah ich, daβŸ es schon viel später war, als ich geglaubt hatte, ich muβŸte mich sehr beeilen, der Schrecken über diese Entdeckung lieβŸ mich im Weg unsicher werden, ich kannte mich in dieser Stadt noch nicht sehr gut aus, glücklicherweise war ein Schutzmann in der Nähe, ich lief zu ihm und fragte ihn atemlos nach dem Weg. Er lächelte und sagte: "Von mir willst du den Weg erfahren?" "Ja," sagte ich, "da ich ihn selbst nicht finden kann." "Gib's auf, gib's auf" sagte er und wandte sich mit einem groβŸen Schwunge ab, so wie Leute, die mit ihrem Lachen allein sein wollen.

And here follows my attempt at a translation:

A Commentary
It was very early in the morning, the street clean and vacant, I was going to the train station. When I compared the clock in a tower with my own, I saw that it was much later than I had thought, I needed to make great haste, the shock of this discovery left me unsure of my way, I did not yet know this city well, fortunately there was a policeman nearby, I ran to him and breathlessly asked him the way. He laughed and said: "You want to learn the way from me?" "Yes," I said, "for I cannot find it myself." "Give it up, give it up" he said and turned away with a great swing, as people do who wish to be alone with their laughter.

This was a great story for me, first because it's short enough for me to get my head around in German, and second because it's very interesting. I was surprised by how quickly problems arose in translating it; there are always certain elements of language that can't be conveniently rendered in another tongue, but the fact that I saw instances of that in a piece this short was unexpected. There are two places in this story where my translation fails to capture the subtext of the original.

The first, and less problematic of the two, is the part which reads "luckily there was a policeman nearby." The word Kafka uses, "Schutzmann," is definitely referring to a police officer, but its literal meaning is more along the lines of "man who protects," the implication being that he is both a representative of the authority of the state, but also has a more allegorical function, which I'll mention below.

The second problematic passage is the 'answer' the policeman gives when he is asked about the way: "Von mir willst du den Weg erfahren?" The important point here is that, in the original, the policeman addresses the narrator with 'du' rather that 'Sie.' In German, there are two ways to say 'you' to someone, one of which is formal and used for speaking to most people you meet, and the other is informal and used only for speaking to friends, peers, and children. Unless the policeman and the narrator are very well acquainted, he is being very rude and patronizing by implying that the narrator is like a child.

Now for deeper meaning: in our class, we read this as a parable pointing out the futility of looking to the state/church authority for guidance. Consider: we have the character of the narrator walking through an empty city who raises his head to a clock tower, just as a man will look to heaven for guidance. Instead of a traditional god, however, the narrator's eyes meet with a symbol of earthly authority. Comparing his clock with the one in the tower and finding that they don't match, he naturally assumes his is incorrect. The picture we have is that of a man who seeks to work within the system, where the system is the church or the bureaucracy, which are equivalent in Kafka's eyes.

The problem for the narrator comes when he finds that he does not know how to find his way through the city; he is an alien there. Going to the obvious figure in search of help leads nowhere- the policeman either doesn't know or isn't telling. The narrator asking for the "way" is an obvious metaphor for finding the way in a religious sense, and Kafka again equates religion and bureaucracy by posed such a loaded question not to a priest but to a police officer. The narrator naturally receives no enlightenment from the officer, and you could read the name "protection man" as being an implication that his function is to 'protect' the narrator from the discovery of the empty void behind the facade of authority. We're left with the image of the narrator running through empty, meaningless streets looking for a way that does not exist.

Of course, it's easy for me to interpret it that way, since I hate bureaucracies too. We should all just stop paying taxes and live in a demand -driven econo-government. Yeah. Anyhow, I thought it was a pretty well-crafted little story, and hopefully you at least enjoyed reading Kafka, if not my comments.

6.11.2005

Globetrotter Grady in Münster

As you may know, since I was telling everyone I knew and randomly met on the street, I'm in Münster, Germany right now. I've tried not to put too many entries in this blog about what's going on in my life, because there are already a million of those and my life's no more interesting than the next guy's, but dammit all if I'm not going to bore you for a bit.

Germany is pretty amazing. Our group flew in to Düsseldorf and immediately drove to Köln, where we spent two days. Wasting no time, we found a Biergarten the first night and proceeded to test the claim that German beer is stronger than American beer. I can't remember what we eventually decided. It does taste a helluva lot better, though.

We saw the Kölner Dom the next day, which is something like the second largest cathedral in Europe (and, by extension, the world). You can't really describe it; standing at the bottom of this huge gothic building you and try to look up and see the top, but your head won't bend back far enough. It's just amazing. Oh, and a couple of people and I walked to the top of one of the towers. That was a sight.

From there we went on to several other very scenic and historic locations, and eventually ended up here in Münster, where we're now taking classes during the day and bumming around the rest of the time. Here's a list of the things that have really jumped out at me about Germany:

  • All the houses have these awesome shades that work kind of like a rolltop desk. There's a solid metal sheet that rolls down over the outside of the window, but it's made of slats, so you can still let in a little light if you want to. If you don't want to, though, it's like being in a submarine. You could sleep through anything.
  • On the subject of windowshades, the windows themselves are really neat. They don't slide up and down like in the US; rather, they swing open. But in addition to that, you can turn the window handle a different way, and then the window tilts in from the top if you just want to crack it. They've got those on everything from my family's modern house to the stodgy old school we're using for classes.
  • A lot of the lights fade on, rather than just clicking on. I am a huge fan.
  • Most stores use prices like 10€, 2,50€, and so on. I have not seen a single item that costs 4,99€. Honestly, American businesses, who do you think you're fooling?
  • The people here in Münster drive much more aggresively than most places I've lived (granted I'm a small town southern boy), but despite that, and despite the proliferation of bicycles, I've seen all of two accidents anywhere in the close to a month that I've been here.
  • Also regarding traffic, the stoplights signal an impending green light as well as an impending red. It's great, as it gives everyone time to shift gears and get moving.
  • Münster is also, as it turns out, the bicycle capital of Germany. Everyone here bikes, and it's the most bike friendly city I've ever been in. Not only are there bike lanes on the sidewalk next to all major roads, there are also bike traffic lights. Sweet.
  • Castles!!
  • Beer, chocolate, and ice cream - they really are much better. Especially the beer.
  • Book publishers here give everything down the cheesiest sci-fi a very nice treatment- no hokey covers and cheap paper; even paperbacks always have a tastefully laid out cover and are well bound. They also make fantastic editions of 'classic' literature; you can get many famous books as a hardback with no gaudy advertisements or soundbites from 'reviews.' All such books from a particular publisher will be matched, so they look great lined up next to each other. Oh, the simple things.

So yes. Overall I'm quite enamored with Germany. Don't get me wrong, it's no utopia, but I'm constantly struck by how many simple, obvious things they do here that are virtually unknown in the states. It's a great place. You should visit.