Thursday, October 10, 2013
Just Another Fall Afternoon in the Park ...
I am in love love love with the fall here in Cincinnati. The warm weather, the storms, the smell of crisp air, herbs and firewood, but most of all I love how the leaves are changing colors. These are a few pictures I took today walking around in the park - doesn't it look gorgeous?
Wednesday, October 9, 2013
Conversations with Strangers
One of the best parts about traveling is that you meet strangers that can become friends for life within minutes. Haven't we all made that experience where you just start talking to somebody and before you know it, you exchange emails, phone numbers and you just KNOW that you have met a travel soul mate?
Well, the other side of the coin is when you meet a stranger that thinks you are his long searched for BFF ... and you don't! There was the slightly weird and somehow very creepy guy I met in Maceió, Brazil; the overly talkative miner in Chile (yes, I know ALL the dirty details about his divorce), the very angry Bolivian lady, the farmer boy who developed a huge crush on my boyfriend and and and. My latest encounter with a strange stranger was in a cafe in Cincinnati:
I was sitting at a table, minding my own business when an older gentleman walks up to me. He stops, hesitates for a second or two, as if to find the courage to say something. He looks at me, hat on his head, trench coat and umbrella in one hand, a canvas bag in the other (a little hint for all my fellow German travelers, if a non-German with a canvas bag, or Jutetasche as we call it, starts talking to you: RUN as fast as you can!), and says with a now very convinced tone in his voice: "You are German!" I am shocked and a little creeped out! People have called me many things from French to Jewish, but nobody just walks up to me and just straight up guesses that I am German. At least he spiked my curiosity: "I am! How did you know?" "Oh, that gentleman over there told me!" That gentleman over there turns out to be my boyfriend's dad, and I have a strong feeling that he found the perfect way to re-direct the older gentleman's attention from him to me. In other words: Now I am stuck with him!
It turns out, he used to live in Berlin (which he loved) and he is a composer. Classical music only, mind you! Once I make the mistake to mention the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra and their famous ex-conductor Herbert Karajan, he knows he found somebody he can talk to. "Did you go to see the Cincinnati orchestra play two days ago at Music Hall?" - "Oh, I heard they were playing, but I went to see The Breeders." As he is clearly lost, I add: "I guess you could call them a rock band. They were actually playing right outside Music Hall." (And wouldn't play any encores because of the symphony, I am adding silently and a little angry still in my mind!) He clearly doesn't appreciate the fact that I went to see The Breeders. Jazz, he tells me, is still acceptable, but rock music? And before I know it, the conversation goes back to Germany, its great composers, its wonderful orchestras, and the country's impressive musical tradition. From here, we move on to German philosophers, of course. I know the intellectual drill: German music, German philosophy, German literature. German universities. He hates Heidegger (because he was a Nazi), he doesn't hate Wagner though (even though he sympathized with the Nazi ideology) because his music is just so fantastic. I prefer not to ask about Nietzsche. Instead we talk about Hannah Arendt and German movies and jump straight to German universities. Strangely enough, he doesn't know my alma mater (Tübingen) but he is raving about Göttingen and Heidelberg, which is insulting if you have studied in Tübingen. It's like knowing Harvard but not knowing Yale. But before I can protest we have somehow moved on to anthropology and it turns out this gentleman has studied anthropology at Columbia. I will spare you the rest of the nerdy conversation about Claude Levi-Strauss, Malinowski, Margret Mead and Franz Boas and other anthropology pop stars. At this point, I feel that we have covered all the "I want to be nice and polite to this old-fashioned German fan" themes, but of course, this gentleman just has SO much more he wants to talk about! And by now I can see out of the corner of my eye that my boyfriend and his family are signalling vividly at me that they are REALLY ready to leave. About 20 minutes later, the message has reached my conversation partner, and he says good-bye. Not without listing all the important dates for classical music events in town for the next two months. He concludes his speech by saying: "Well, it was nice meeting you. Cincinnati is a horrible town for classical music though, you should go back to Berlin!" And while he is leaving reluctantly, I get the very strong feeling that he probably hasn't talked to a lot of people in the past 20 years...
I have to admit that this particular conversation with this particular stranger was somewhat interesting (sort of, in a very nerdy way), but it did feel a little bit like taking my final oral exam in anthropology all over again.
Meeting strangers on the road is very common if you travel a lot. However, I was reminded that meeting strangers while traveling can be both, a blessing AND a curse. But it sure never ain't boring!
Well, the other side of the coin is when you meet a stranger that thinks you are his long searched for BFF ... and you don't! There was the slightly weird and somehow very creepy guy I met in Maceió, Brazil; the overly talkative miner in Chile (yes, I know ALL the dirty details about his divorce), the very angry Bolivian lady, the farmer boy who developed a huge crush on my boyfriend and and and. My latest encounter with a strange stranger was in a cafe in Cincinnati:
I was sitting at a table, minding my own business when an older gentleman walks up to me. He stops, hesitates for a second or two, as if to find the courage to say something. He looks at me, hat on his head, trench coat and umbrella in one hand, a canvas bag in the other (a little hint for all my fellow German travelers, if a non-German with a canvas bag, or Jutetasche as we call it, starts talking to you: RUN as fast as you can!), and says with a now very convinced tone in his voice: "You are German!" I am shocked and a little creeped out! People have called me many things from French to Jewish, but nobody just walks up to me and just straight up guesses that I am German. At least he spiked my curiosity: "I am! How did you know?" "Oh, that gentleman over there told me!" That gentleman over there turns out to be my boyfriend's dad, and I have a strong feeling that he found the perfect way to re-direct the older gentleman's attention from him to me. In other words: Now I am stuck with him!
It turns out, he used to live in Berlin (which he loved) and he is a composer. Classical music only, mind you! Once I make the mistake to mention the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra and their famous ex-conductor Herbert Karajan, he knows he found somebody he can talk to. "Did you go to see the Cincinnati orchestra play two days ago at Music Hall?" - "Oh, I heard they were playing, but I went to see The Breeders." As he is clearly lost, I add: "I guess you could call them a rock band. They were actually playing right outside Music Hall." (And wouldn't play any encores because of the symphony, I am adding silently and a little angry still in my mind!) He clearly doesn't appreciate the fact that I went to see The Breeders. Jazz, he tells me, is still acceptable, but rock music? And before I know it, the conversation goes back to Germany, its great composers, its wonderful orchestras, and the country's impressive musical tradition. From here, we move on to German philosophers, of course. I know the intellectual drill: German music, German philosophy, German literature. German universities. He hates Heidegger (because he was a Nazi), he doesn't hate Wagner though (even though he sympathized with the Nazi ideology) because his music is just so fantastic. I prefer not to ask about Nietzsche. Instead we talk about Hannah Arendt and German movies and jump straight to German universities. Strangely enough, he doesn't know my alma mater (Tübingen) but he is raving about Göttingen and Heidelberg, which is insulting if you have studied in Tübingen. It's like knowing Harvard but not knowing Yale. But before I can protest we have somehow moved on to anthropology and it turns out this gentleman has studied anthropology at Columbia. I will spare you the rest of the nerdy conversation about Claude Levi-Strauss, Malinowski, Margret Mead and Franz Boas and other anthropology pop stars. At this point, I feel that we have covered all the "I want to be nice and polite to this old-fashioned German fan" themes, but of course, this gentleman just has SO much more he wants to talk about! And by now I can see out of the corner of my eye that my boyfriend and his family are signalling vividly at me that they are REALLY ready to leave. About 20 minutes later, the message has reached my conversation partner, and he says good-bye. Not without listing all the important dates for classical music events in town for the next two months. He concludes his speech by saying: "Well, it was nice meeting you. Cincinnati is a horrible town for classical music though, you should go back to Berlin!" And while he is leaving reluctantly, I get the very strong feeling that he probably hasn't talked to a lot of people in the past 20 years...
I have to admit that this particular conversation with this particular stranger was somewhat interesting (sort of, in a very nerdy way), but it did feel a little bit like taking my final oral exam in anthropology all over again.
Meeting strangers on the road is very common if you travel a lot. However, I was reminded that meeting strangers while traveling can be both, a blessing AND a curse. But it sure never ain't boring!
Monday, October 7, 2013
Can I See Your ID, Please?
Americans are obsessed with their IDs, or better put, with having to show your ID. In the past 5 months, I am sure I have shown my ID more times in the US than in 30 years of life put together. Every time I buy beer in the supermarket,each time I enter a bar or a club, and even when I order a glass of wine at a restaurant, I have to show my ID. And then, it's always such an ordeal. The person looks at my German ID and then I have the identical conversation almost every single time:
ID checker: "Wow, I have never seen one of these before!"
Me: "It's German."
ID checker: "Oh, cool. But where is your birth date on here?"
Me: Right here, under number 3.
ID checker: "Ohhh, ohhh! Sorry, okay, I got it You look different on this picture though."
Me: "I was 16 when I took that picture. Our driver's license doesn't expire so I am stuck with that picture."
ID checker (still skeptical): "Um, okay. Well I guess it's alright."
I am really tired of having to explain my ID several times a week to a random person while all these strangers stare at my pimply ID picture (believe me, I'd like to replace that pic, too!!!).
Yes, of course, the drinking age in the US is 21, and people want to make sure you are REALLY legally allowed to drink a beer. However, EVERY country has drinking age regulations. In some countries teenagers are allowed to drink at age 18, in others at age 19, in others you can start drinking when you are 16 (okay, that might just be beer-loving Germany). Yet, I think before I came to the US, I had to show my ID exactly once for buying alcohol (a bottle of wine) in a German supermarket. While you can buy beer and low-percentage alcohol with 16 in Germany, you have to be 18 to buy wine, for example. I was 20 years old at the time, and the cashier felt really embarrassed afterwards and apologized to me for about 5 minutes. In Germany it is not popular to ask somebody who is over 18 for their ID. Under bouncers, it is a real sport to guess a person's age and NOT having to ask for an ID. Shame on the bouncer who gets your age wrong, he clearly looses respect among his colleagues for getting somebody's age wrong! In the US, it seems to be the exact opposite. You are supposed to check a customer's ID if they look like they could be anywhere between 21 and 26 years old, just to make sure. And while I guess on some level it is flattering to see that I look younger than I am, it does get pretty annoying after a while.
For example, last week, I went to a music festival here in Cincinnati. The festival was spread out over various locations of the city. At the entrance I was asked if I wanted to drink alcohol at some point, and I said "yes". So I got a green bracelet that said OVER 21 on it. Obviously, I had to show my ID in order to get that bracelet. So I went to a different location afterwards, and the bouncer asked me for my ID - again. I showed him the bracelet but he still wanted to see my ID. Explanation: "You can buy those bracelets anywhere." Seriously???!!!! In that case, what is the point of the bracelet anyway? Or, if you want me to wear one, why aren't you able to make bracelets that I can't buy somewhere else so I don't have to show my freaking ID at every single location while wearing a bracelet that says that I am over 21 years old??!!
It really makes me wonder what is it that makes Americans so weary about having to see your ID all the time? It is pretty clear to me that it is not a general obsession with the ID itself, the obsession is more about drinking or buying alcohol in general. There seems to be a general fear of alcohol in this country that I haven't experienced to that extent before in any other country. I have come up with a couple of theories to explain this to me so irrational fear:
1. Penalties for selling alcohol to minors are really high so bar owners prefer to card everybody rather than loosing their liquor license.
2. You need a car to get around in the US. Kids start driving at the age of 16 or even earlier. So the possibilities of going to a party or a bar and taking a bus back home are really limited, which might increase DUI incidents in the states compared to other countries. So government wants to lower the risk for drinking and driving by having very severe laws on buying alcohol.
3. The Puritan legacy in the US (see Prohibition in the 20s).
I haven't actually done any research on the topic, so these might just be some wild theories I am spinning. But I am curious, what do you think? What is it with Americans and alcohol?
ID checker: "Wow, I have never seen one of these before!"
Me: "It's German."
ID checker: "Oh, cool. But where is your birth date on here?"
Me: Right here, under number 3.
ID checker: "Ohhh, ohhh! Sorry, okay, I got it You look different on this picture though."
Me: "I was 16 when I took that picture. Our driver's license doesn't expire so I am stuck with that picture."
ID checker (still skeptical): "Um, okay. Well I guess it's alright."
I am really tired of having to explain my ID several times a week to a random person while all these strangers stare at my pimply ID picture (believe me, I'd like to replace that pic, too!!!).
Yes, of course, the drinking age in the US is 21, and people want to make sure you are REALLY legally allowed to drink a beer. However, EVERY country has drinking age regulations. In some countries teenagers are allowed to drink at age 18, in others at age 19, in others you can start drinking when you are 16 (okay, that might just be beer-loving Germany). Yet, I think before I came to the US, I had to show my ID exactly once for buying alcohol (a bottle of wine) in a German supermarket. While you can buy beer and low-percentage alcohol with 16 in Germany, you have to be 18 to buy wine, for example. I was 20 years old at the time, and the cashier felt really embarrassed afterwards and apologized to me for about 5 minutes. In Germany it is not popular to ask somebody who is over 18 for their ID. Under bouncers, it is a real sport to guess a person's age and NOT having to ask for an ID. Shame on the bouncer who gets your age wrong, he clearly looses respect among his colleagues for getting somebody's age wrong! In the US, it seems to be the exact opposite. You are supposed to check a customer's ID if they look like they could be anywhere between 21 and 26 years old, just to make sure. And while I guess on some level it is flattering to see that I look younger than I am, it does get pretty annoying after a while.
For example, last week, I went to a music festival here in Cincinnati. The festival was spread out over various locations of the city. At the entrance I was asked if I wanted to drink alcohol at some point, and I said "yes". So I got a green bracelet that said OVER 21 on it. Obviously, I had to show my ID in order to get that bracelet. So I went to a different location afterwards, and the bouncer asked me for my ID - again. I showed him the bracelet but he still wanted to see my ID. Explanation: "You can buy those bracelets anywhere." Seriously???!!!! In that case, what is the point of the bracelet anyway? Or, if you want me to wear one, why aren't you able to make bracelets that I can't buy somewhere else so I don't have to show my freaking ID at every single location while wearing a bracelet that says that I am over 21 years old??!!
It really makes me wonder what is it that makes Americans so weary about having to see your ID all the time? It is pretty clear to me that it is not a general obsession with the ID itself, the obsession is more about drinking or buying alcohol in general. There seems to be a general fear of alcohol in this country that I haven't experienced to that extent before in any other country. I have come up with a couple of theories to explain this to me so irrational fear:
1. Penalties for selling alcohol to minors are really high so bar owners prefer to card everybody rather than loosing their liquor license.
2. You need a car to get around in the US. Kids start driving at the age of 16 or even earlier. So the possibilities of going to a party or a bar and taking a bus back home are really limited, which might increase DUI incidents in the states compared to other countries. So government wants to lower the risk for drinking and driving by having very severe laws on buying alcohol.
3. The Puritan legacy in the US (see Prohibition in the 20s).
I haven't actually done any research on the topic, so these might just be some wild theories I am spinning. But I am curious, what do you think? What is it with Americans and alcohol?
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