Showing posts with label cologne. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cologne. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

We've Met Before, My Name Is Jessica

Phew! That took forever! Hello again to all my friends, I'm sure you've been pining away for me, repeatedly refreshing your browsers in the hopes of an update with which to waste your time. And I will not disappoint.

Jessica Does Many Many Things; Forgets Them All

When I last left you, I was stuffing boxes of candy down my mouse pants and crawling toward my house (der meine gastfamilie) while my muscles atrophied from overexposure to sugar and beer. Not much has changed.

An easy week followed, without much class or any need for intellectual stimulation, so I youtubed my way through about 4 days. This weekend, most of the group went to Budapest but I am just not that interesting, so I explored Bonn!

The Bonn Chronicles, Part 1: In Which I Discover the Gestapo and Gummi Bears

On Thursday, we went to the Gestapo Headquarters in Cologne; the building had been used for decades after the war, only being turned into a museum in 1997. We looked into the cells where detainees were held; tiny spaces with windows looking out into the street, 20-30 people squished together for days at a time and were ignored by passersby. Needless to say, it was very moving, but being the insufferable ass that I often am, I made moon eyes at my professor the entire time. Ha, I'm only kidding, you should know my not-so-inner nerd was having a conniption (but on the serious, he is PRECIOUS).





On Friday, Kristin and I did what we do best: find candy, preferably being passed out by humans dressed in giant furry costumes. We went to the Haribo factory, and I personally dug my hand into every candy shelf they had, with a loud squeeeee! of gluttonous joy.



Afterward we wandered around Bad Godesberg and realized that we had absolutely nothing to do. Until I found this:

What you are viewing is quite possibly the most bizarrely racist Easter Bunny or sweetest (pun!) tribute to Mickey Rooney in "Breakfast at Tiffany's" EVER. You decide.




The Bonn Chronicles Part 2: The Uneventful Troupe Meets the Eurotrash Twins



Determined to enjoy ourselves in the absence of our Budapest-invading friends, Stephanie, Vanessa, Kristin and I met for dinner at Stephanie's house (where I got to chat with my dear old friend, the piano, until I remembered that I am a terrible player and stopped out of mercy for the rest of the group) and headed off to Cologne to meet Sandra. In typical New Europe Program fashion, we wandered around the streets of Cologne without an idea as to where we would go. After a few beers and shots of Absinthe, we came up with the bright idea of heading back to Bonn. And so we went, arm in arm.





We went to N8, a club near the Altstadt which is evidently a sweatlodge set to 90s pop music. I had a lovely time, at least I thought I did until I saw them: perched on a platform in matching black button down shirts, there they were in all their glory. Two souls, so perfectly synchronized in their rhythmic swaying, so hairsprayed and adorned in Calvin Klein accessories (that could only be outshined by their hairless torsos exposed by four undone buttons) that they could not be ignored. We found the holy grail of Eurotrash; and there were TWO OF THEM. Wiping sweat from my brow, I weighed a large bag of sand with which I replaced them and ran, chased by spear-throwing club-goers. Safely back in their museum, the Eurotrash twins were finally in a place where they would be properly cared for.*



Eventually, after "Wannabe" played again, I headed home to rest up for my big day of doing nothing, otherwise known as "homework." You see, there was once this thing called "homework" (phonetically "hohm-wurk")that I used to do back in the Americas. Though it is nearing extinction in Germany, some rare breeds still exist and I occasionally tend to them instead of shooting them as I would like to. Two papers, a presentation, and 2 midterms (wish me luck on Friday!) later, I am ready for a nice day trip. Why, there's one tomorrow you say? What luck!

Join me next time for "Jessica Visits Trier and Further Annoys Others With Frivolous Picture-Taking"
Tschuss!

*Please note, I saw the shorter one at Starbucks the next day in a tee shirt and jeans with his homework and I breast swelled with a motherly pride.

Saturday, January 17, 2009

I'm Not Saying I'd Like to Build a Summer Home Here, but the Trees Are Actually Quite Lovely


Turns out the nap wasn't enough, but I did progress further on my mission of studying Germans in their native habitat: clubs. Won't you join me?

"Jessica Meets God: They Agree That Techno Is AWFUL."

After a wonderful dinner last night of fishsticks, mashed potatoes, and cucumber salad (oh don't even mess with fishsticks; they are, as the kids say, quite "bomb"), we headed out to downtown Bonn to begin our wacky adventures. Our group, starting out as just two of us...then four...then six...multiplied like amoebas in a time lapsed film strip, and we headed out to find a club with no cover charge.

Much like my last marriage, the attempt failed.

We got to a club with a small cover charge right as it opened and went down to the basement in order to stake a claim on a white leather couch and stare intently at the two other people who were in the club; two eighteen year old boys in knit caps and skinny jeans. As we shouted over the "house music" (which is a monotonous beat that goes on for an hour before an extra beeping gets thrown into the mix. Seriously.) and redeemed our free drink from the bar (after a passionate tryst with beer the night before, I cheated on it with a Fanta), we came to the realization of a major dividing factor between our group: techno.

A hefty percentage of our group adores techno, which means that those of us who so eloquently yell "this BLOWS" at clubs are subject to lengthy explanations about the difference between "house music," "trans" and "drums and bass"; let me save you the suspense, there is no difference. But seeing as how the club already had my money, I decided to dance with the girls and all the German boys with rock mullets and studded belts. Let me paint a picture for you:

It's a foggy room with flashing green, red, and purple lights, which switch on and off rhythmically with the beat. As the fog slowly dissipates, a writhing beast emerges on the scene that seems to move in a frantic but controlled way. As the lights expose the dance floor more fully, you see that it is not one monolithic creature, but rather an entire group of people swaying methodically with flailing arms to the same beat. Think the opening credits of Charlie Brown, where the members of the Peanuts Gang bounce and turn their heads in constant repetition because the illustrators didn't have time to give them more than one dance move. Add a bass so loud you think you have a heart murmur, enough hair gel and eye liner to supply the entire crowd at a KISS concert, and melodic sounds that bear an eerie resemblance to the blasters in Star Wars, and you have a techno club.

That is not to say I didn't have fun. I danced until I couldn't keep a straight face any longer (about 15-20 minutes of holding an agonizing "I'm taking this seriously" face) and my eyes stated to sting from the cigarette smoke and fog machines. I will give this to techno fans; they commit.

Around 2:00am, Andrew (my neighbor and part of our group) offered to leave with me, even though he could probably step and sway like Linus or PigPen all night. We walked to the bus and got home at around 3:30am.

Today Christy and I went to Cologne, a description of which I will save for after Monday when we go as a group. My only words will be that of the Cathedral, which was truly breathtaking (in a serious way, not in a Seinfeld way). We were mostly proud that we successfully navigated the train system and put another point on the scoreboard of humans vs. transportation systems.

Tonight looks like a welcome break for reading, homework, and obsessively checking facebook.
Ciao!