11.22.09 - Authentic Dutch Family Weekend

11.19-22.09 – Enschede, Best and Eindhoven, Authentic Dutch Family Weekend

For a few weeks now a sentiment of fulfillment from my abroad experience has been growing. Everything that I have ever dreamed of seeing I have seen. Almost all places that I had wished to visit I have ventured to. And almost all the people who I have wanted to visit around Europe and Israel I have visited. Now I am not, and probably will never, admit to ‘homesickness’; but, some of the intricacies of home, or a ‘home’ environment, I have been longing for recently. That’s why this past weekend was so crucial. This past weekend I had an authentic Dutch home weekend with my friends Jonas, Stan and their family.

I met Jonas and Stan this past summer at our family friend, the Oppenheim’s, house. The connection is that Sara Oppenheim did an exchange program in Holland at Jonas and Stan’s mothers’ house, and Jonas and Stan’s mother in turn visited Sara in the states. Since then, the three women have remained in touch and done periodic visits to each other’s homes. Their children have also done visits and become friends, thus how I joined the mix. So knowing that I was going to be studying in the Netherlands I made an emphasis to remain in contact with Jonas and Stan, and so …. the weekend.

Thursday afternoon I Eu-railed from Maastricht to Enschede, with one transfer in Utrecht. Enschede, a northern Dutch city, is where Jonas is attending university. He is in his first year of study. Jonas picked me up from the train station, after my almost 4 hour journey, with his fitz, his bicycle. Obviously being only room for one on the fitz, I proceeded to sit, straddled on the back metal, just above the back wheel. This experience, along with many others occurring this weekend, was a first for me. After a sum what uncomfortable fitz ride back to his house, I dropped my stuff and we killed some time by catching up and reacquainting until his friends were ready to go out. Around ten we started the night by meeting up with his friends Eric, Ellen and a few others for a few drinks in one of their houses on campus. Although it was night it was nice to see a Dutch campus. Apparently Enschede is the only Dutch university with a campus feeling, versus a city one. After hanging out, we headed into the center city, first to a Soviet themed party at a new club called Atak and then to another place off of the main square. Going out to the bars and dance clubs gave me an opportunity to show my skills in the solitary bouncing that is Dutch dancing. I stuck mostly with Jonas and his friend Eric throughout the night. We made it out pretty late and had a great time – especially Jonas.

Friday morning Jonas and Eric had a 7:30 mathematics type class; I slept until 11. After waking, Jonas and I ate some quick dinner in his kitchen and then met up with Eric for a quick sit in the city center. It was at this quick sit that I realized that almost all Dutch city centers have relatively unused old and beautiful churches, usually gothic in design, at the core and a fairly bustling with shoppers plaza around it – especially on a Friday midday. I am still somewhat uncertain what people do for a living in Holland. From the short sit the three of us fitz-ed (yes I am making the noun for bicycle into a verb, like biked) back to Jonas’s place for our midday departure back to Eindhoven (Eric’s home) and Best (Jonas’s home). It was my first car ride since my trip to the airport back in August before I left for Maastricht. I really missed sitting in the back of the car, gazing out of the window, especially these Dutch pastures and landscapes, and just not needing to worry about public transportation issues like train transfers, luggage confusion on planes or enough seats on the bus for the elderly.

Once in Best, after dropping Eric off at the train station, we arrived at Jonas’ home. Unlike the in The States, most European students who live away from home for university, especially in their first two years, go home each weekend in order to see their families, get nice cooked meals, do laundry and relax. This is partially feasible because they do most of their partying during the week, whereas in colleges in the US partying is a weekend thing. Also to note, in Europe a town is called a village. Around the afternoon Stan came over for the weekend, and that evening we had a wonderful family dinner. Dinner, like all meals throughout the weekend, was vegetarian style, and was also my first home cooked, Mama’s cooking, meal since I had left in August too. Kibbutz food in Israel doesn’t count because there isn’t the same TLC invested in it. After dinner Jonas, Stan and I went to the movies to see 2012,my first time in a movie theater since the summer too.

Please allow me to reflect on this movie: The plot is about the world coming to the end and civilization needing to save the human race. It involves many difficult decisions on the part of world leadership, graphic computerized imagery of whole cities and continents suffering unimaginable natural disasters and catastrophe, and of course the personal story of a family trying to survive together. A true Hollywood film. Although entertaining, it was a little too intense for the start of my weekend for one main reason: Thoughts. I can handle the drama, sure my seat’s armrests are now scented with my hand’s clamminess, and yeah so I almost teared up at the end, but the whole concept of the world ending plays directly into the introspection that I have engaged in throughout my abroad experiences. Just to clarify, I by no means think the world is going to end, but the holistic outlook on the issue of a world ending correlates directly with themes of how you live your life and more cliché but true living everyday like it is your last. Also to clarify, I do not sit abroad and ponder ideas for afternoons on end. Most of the time my reflection has occurred while traveling for hours between cities alone.

While being abroad, a major realization for me, has been the idea that not only is life too short but spending it with those you care most about is of the greatest importance. That’s it. PERIOD. Although these are messages that my grandparents and especially my father have been drilling into my head since my conception, they never really registered until this semester, and were confirmed of late, especially with my seeing 2012. If you knew the world would end would you do things differently in your life? Would you change your actions? Would you quit the daily routine for the bucket list on your wall? Would you treat family and friends differently? Spend more time or less? Go on adventures, try to save the world or disregard all reality for utopian lifestyles? As humans, especially Americans, do we truly maximize our existence on earth? What does this maximization mean? Is working the 70 hour work week to hopefully make it beyond the first round of 6 figures worth it? Do we need to take our massive SUVs on our massive highways to our massive grocery stores to purchase our massive quantities of food in order to have it sit in our massive homes for massive amounts of time? Sure an exaggeration, and trust me I do love my standard of living in Teaneck and in Allentown, but does taking your fitz on occasion to the local store, or a stroll with a buddy really detract from efficiency, productivity, and success or does it increase standard of living by encapsulating something that cannot inquire a cost, but rather just an intangible benefit?

I have been asked many times what the biggest difference between Europe and the US is and at first I thought of competition but I have hammered it out to choices of lifestyle, and one thing the Europeans CURRENTLY do better is smell the roses. Disregard all potential for deficit, socialism, immigrant problems, healthcare quality, and a lack of incentive in the education or work worlds. If you look at the daily lives of the average European, most you will find have a less stressed, more time filled, and more enjoyable life. Now it doesn’t mean that they have the same options or satisfactions as we Americans. Nor do they get themselves involved in half the things we do. And remember, the US is founded on a Protestant work ethics and on immigrants who, regardless of their generation of arrival to the Golda Medina, started with nothing and had to work in the sweatshops, or as the public servicemen, to provide for their families, and hope that three generations later their work would pay off by their kids going to college and becoming settled, middle class Americans. The US is founded on opportunity, and still is, regardless of Bush disasters. That is our legacy and therefore our lives in the States. We seize opportunity, imagine the next breakthroughs, compete for the top rung on the ladder, and live the life to Keep up with the Jones.

The modern European continent is attempting to found itself on peaceful coexistence, a stark and direct contrast to its thousands of years of war torn life. So you have to imagine that if a wide range of standards of living and inequality, whether spurred by shear competition / capitalism (you choose the term) or not, would occur in Europe, there certainly would be severe unrest. So they choose for the alternative, which is a leveling out of society. But with that level of living, Europeans, although you cannot tangibly or financially measure it because no accurate or legitimate indicators or statistics portray such data, experience greater, on average, happiness than Americans. Like I said, you have disregard all potential for the socialist state to go under. But you can’t tell me that job security, extended maternity leave, free health care, highly subsidized education, clean cities, well maintained roads and public transportation, double as many vacation days and social programs such as pensions to protect you in your old age, doesn’t guarantee a lot fewer stresses. Although my family is unique, we have to pay private school tuition and health insurance, are never sure when we will lose our jobs, and our streets look like crap, transportation is dirtier than in Europe (I realize theirs is newer) and need to manage our own 401ks, which got slammed in the economic recession.

So what I have taken from this, and is reflected by my thought-provoked reaction to 2012 is that as Americans, we need to continue to work hard, and I will be the first to join that band-wagon. Few can look at me and believe that I am not actually a work-o-holic. I am proud of my patriotism and protestant work ethic. And I would never move to Europe for the benefits of their preferred “standard of living”. America is, and will also be, as long as conservative rightists to turn our land of opportunity and freedoms in a coal burning, big business, religious infused, isolationist, emperor of nothingness. But, with all that said of my nationalism, we Americans need to do a much much much better job of smelling the roses, especially with those we care for most. Because if the world was to end tomorrow, or on December 21st, 2012, I, personally, don’t want to sit back and say that I wish I spent more time with my family and friends. I much rather have that lived my life to that maximum, balanced my work and play, certainly prepared for my future and thrived off of my work, but lived my life enough to feel like I have done my best. And that has to start with time with the ones you love. Europeans always joke that they work to live, whereas Americans live to work. I want to change that!

….so that was Friday night. Saturday morning we woke up around noon, grabbed a quick bite and then went for some soccer with Jonas’s friend Thijs (‘Tise’). The four of us (Jonas, Stan, Thijs and myself) played a half field version of a soccer game for a few hours. The field was nestled into the backyards, pastures and side streets of the local village. As we kicked the ball around we saw people walking with families, dogs jogging by, and cows and horses roaming their fields. Although it was the typical hazy and cloudy Dutch sky, it was still the typical picturesque Netherlands with its autumn leaves, endless fields, small brick and slate-roofed homes. Very calming. And the first time that I played an organized sports game since the beginning of the semester.

As it got dark we returned to Jonas’s house for some pizza dinner. First time I ever tried tuna pizza. It had a somewhat fishy taste. In the evening Jonas organized a game of Texas Hold’em with his friends. So for almost four hours we sat around the dining room table, six of us – Jonas, Stan, Thijs, myself, and Thomas and Aron (2 more friends) – gambling it up. Despite the few players who bought back in, I was fortunate with a few good hands and strategic plays and eventually I beat Jonas in a head to head final. It was just 2 euro buy in so I came away with my train ticket money. Don’t worry I returned the buy-ins to Jonas and Stan when they weren’t looking. Upon victory I jokingly said to Jonas’s parents that I was going to report to my Muhlenberg class back in Maastricht that the capitalist American took all the Europeans money – which I did to the uproar of my class. It was a really fun night and boy was I dealing, especially for my first time since I can remember!

Sunday morning was another late wake up. We grabbed some breakfast/lunch and then headed out for some bowling. Stan, Jonas and I put in about three games, a little over an hour, at the local Best alleys. It was the disco bowling with the stringed pins. Lots of fun. My high score was a 140, not so bad for being seriously out of practice and it also being the first time I had bowled since the summer. After bowling we returned for an early Sunday evening dinner and then Jonas, Stan and I went to the train to go back to our respective schools.

The weekend was perfect. Initially I had hopes for Spain, but couldn’t find anyone to venture with, but when Jonas said this weekend worked I couldn’t reject the offer. During a time when I have been pining for a home atmosphere the most, I couldn’t have asked for a more homey feeling than I received at Jonas’s house. His Mom, Marian Alkemade, and Dad, Han van den Bogaard, (married – just different names) could not have been more welcoming and hospitable. They even gave me a small Sinter Claus present. And we did normal things! No touring the ruins, running to museums or wandering with city maps. Instaed the tourist highlights were TV, video games, movies, soccer, poker and bowling. Just average kid day to day stuff. And oh how I missed that. I am hoping that the weekend will be a springboard to propel me with good spirits for the rest of the semester.

My only hope that remains is the Jonas, Stan their families, and even some of their friends, especially Eric and Thijs, can come to America and visit me, ideally while I am still living in my fraternity house, so I can reciprocate their open gesture and memorable experience.

11.16.09 – The Hague and Berlin

While my traveling buddies got a head start on the weekend of touring, I had a mandatory Saturday Dutch Art History class field trip to The Hague. To avoid traveling on Saturday, I bunked in at the house of Bubbe’s dear friend Harriet Goldstein’s granddaughter and family, Sasha and Yaniv Goldstein-Sabba. Friday night basically entailed getting to know Sasha and Yaniv, and 17 month old daughter Dahlia, enjoying a kosher meat dinner at the shul and going to bed early in the biggest and most comfortable bed that I had slept-in in the past four months.

Saturday morning Yaniv and I went to shul, but I left a little early, around 11:40, to meet the class outside of the parliament. In 2 groups we toured the Parliament, art museum, highlights being the Godfinch, Girl with the Pearl Earring, and other Vermeers and Rembrandts, and the art museum with the Hague panoramic painting. It was particularly nice because Matt was in town from Florence for the weekend to see Kelly…and me….so he joined our Dutch Art History excursion. By 5 PM I scampered back to the Goldstein-Sabba’s, grabbed my stuff, thanked them profusely, and hustled it to the Den Hague Centraal. After a 6:15 train direct to Utrecht Central, where I indulged in a smoked Turkey sandwich given to me by Sasha, I boarded my 7:29 city night line train ending in Moscow….But I would be getting out at 5 AM in Berlin, where my friends, Josh, Mike, Eli already put in 2 nights and 1 day of amazing adventures.

Something notably unique about my Shabbat with Sasha especially is that I could pick her brain about Europe versus the USA. In Laposata’s Euro Dream class we have been bashing Europe for its many problems: high taxes, too many regulations, low fertility rates, poor innovation, weak R and D, socialism, homogeneity, inefficient work and business community etc. However, Sasha, a northeast American stated she loves living in the Europe much more than the USA, hence she is raising a family in The Hague, because a) the benefits of social programs make life much less stressful through means of job security, children benefits, nearly free education, old age subsidies and programs, and free health care b) she feels the direct benefit of her taxes and c) standard of living is much more protected. I said to her though that “isn’t the standard of living lower” and she responded “how so?” And I gave the example that we use in class that is that Laposata can’t get syrup because it isn’t indigenous to the Netherlands; therefore he is stuck with molasses like stuff. She retorted that the big difference between Europe and the USA is that the USA is a consumer nation, valued on materialism and “keeping up with the Jones’”; whereas Europe’s people have far fewer things, but take more vacations. The question still stands, where to live, Europe or the USA? I shared this story with Kelly and her response was surprisingly an aggressive and fervent, “Americans want the free choice” which is true. But does fewer social programs provide more choice?...Where do Americans’ taxes go? I have private healthcare, go to expensive private school and operate my own IRA. Besides the defense of my freedoms how are my taxes helping me? All stuff to consider….fascinating!


One theory I have developed though is that Europe’s declining fertility rate is because a combination of a) they have a post industrial economy mainly based on services and b)consume much less. These disincentives Europeans from having kids because kids consume a lot, especially money. Additionally, women are having children much later in their lives because they are more educated and work. So Berlin…..

My overnight train, by far my favorite mode of travel, was awesome as usual. From the time I got on at 7:29 PM until 10:20 PM I had the 6 bed couchette all to myself. I specifically asked for the top bed, my favorite!

I arrived in Berlin HBF (central station) at 5:15 AM. The central station boasts incredible, and modern architecture, a vast variety of shops and food places, and brilliant efficiency with all its inter and intra city transport systems. But considering it to be 5 AM, I plopped myself in McDonald’s to read my book for a few hours. As the sun rose I decided I would venture to find the hostel the guys were in, the same hostel I would be in the next night, called the Generator. Once there at 8:30 AM, the group was was waking up and eventually we had the free breakfast (it was really free for me on Sunday morning). The group in Berlin consisted of the usual crew of Josh, Eli and Mike, plus Evan and Joel, also Muhlenberg guys, and Brent, a guy from outside of Dallas, studying in Barcelona, that Josh and Mike met during their travels and invited along to Berlin. Joel and Evan left before we even got the touring started because they had Monday class.

The day started with a subway trip into the city and then some strolling to our first destination. As we walked along the main road all the guys were explaining to me the significance of all the sites, monuments and buildings that we passed. They really got a lot out of the walking tour. They showed me the Jewish holocaust memorial, the main church, Brandenburg Gate, PariserPlatz etc. More on this later. Our first destination was the Reichstag, the parliament dome-shaped building. After a much anticipated ‘que’ we got to the top for an incredible panoramic view. A great way to start the day.

Once back down we walked on the outskirts of the Tiergarten, the center city’s main park, to the subway at Potstdamer Platz, which we would take to the Olympic Stadium and complex. The Olympic Complex dated back to the early 1900’s, with its first structure being erected before WWI. But once receiving the Olympic bid in 1931, for the ’36 games, Hitler in ’33 began to build massive structures in preparation. And it was on these very grounds that Jesse Owens won his many medals. Here we not only relished at the living history in front of our eyes, or the mini soccer goals in the urinals that incentivized us to aim at a target, thus scoring a goal upon urinating, but also relished at our healthy, warm and cheap lunch. Joking aside, Olympic stadium, although an extremely long (40 min) subway ride out of the center city, was definitely enjoyable.

After U-ing it back into the city and walking around the Mitte neighborhood, specifically the TV tower and Alexanderplatz, we settled in for some dinner at the Block House. Great dinner, great variety and great service! To close the night we mozzied over to Belushi’s bar and hostel for some drinks and a night of real American football. Oh, how I missed my sports! It was a long day, but a fulfilling one. That night, even though I was booked for a different room, the receptionist let me bunk in with the guys in their 6 person private.

The Generator hostel gets the following review: “gigantic….retro…clearly a place for crazy fun. Hotel feeling rooms. Clean beds, sheets and facilities. Safe. Fairly decent breaky. 30 min subway from center city. Does the trick for a night or two”

Monday morning, we breakied it, checked out and went to the Hbf to drop off Eli, Josh and Mike, who were heading back to Maastricht early, and my baggage in a locker. From Hbf Brent and I continued to the main square to pick up our city walking tour. Prior to the tour, because we had about 45 minutes to kill, we went to the Museum of the Kennedy’s, a museum highlighting the accomplishments and contributions of the Kennedy family to the world, and browsed through some souvenir shops.

The tour, expected to be about 4.5 hours, was guided by a real Berlin historian, ironically from England, named Mick. Unfortunately for my own edification, but fortunately for my feet, I only stayed for the first 3 hours because I had a train to catch. Mick started us around PariserPlatz, the Brandenburg gate and main street area. He summed up the first few centuries of German history in the first hour and then continued to the 3rd Reich and post WWII. He was knowledgeable on all of the information, especially the holistic outlook of the Holocaust. His conveyance of perspective on all sensitive matters was respectful and poignant. From the center area we strolled to the Parliament, Jewish memorial and Hitler’s bunker area. That basically concluded the WWII material. From the bunker we went on to Post-War Germany, Soviet regimes and the before, during and after the formation of the Wall. We saw part of the Wall, analyzed a map of the split city and viewed a series of Travants, old Eastern German cars. It around then that I had to roll out- of course I thanked him – and tipped him too. When they say “free walking tour” they really mean “tips please” and deservingly so.

To close I must note that I often do not narrate about my return journeys, especially the trains, but this one encompassed a triumphant moment. Because I took the train to the wrong station in Cologne, Colgone-Messe and not Hbf, I had to take an S-bahn to transfer. Realizing that I could still make my 7:44 PM train to Liege, and then to Maastricht, I dashed out of the S-bahn once in the Hbf, winding between people down one set of stairs, and skipping steps while sliding by more people up. There was no time for even putting my heals down on the ground. A complete sprint with subtle jukes between aimlessly wandering pedestrian travelers. As I reached the top of the platform I saw my train’s doors starting to close. Instinctively, I lunged forward, forearm first, and with my elbow and hand yanked the door open to the dismay of the wagon’s electric mechanics and the servicemen walking behind me along the platform. In one fell swoop, I pulled the door, which was 6 inches from closing shut, open enough to squeeze through, all my stuff and dinner still intact. With a pulsating heart, I grabbed a seat victoriously! I made it back to Maastricht by 10 PM. Another great weekend.

11.09.09 - Munich with the Grandparents

Prior to my departure abroad, Grandma and Grandpa expressed great interest in visiting me. I retorted with appreciative and hopeful hesitance, noting my unwillingness to commit to a certain date until I knew more about my future travel plans, program structure and potential friendships. As my semester jumpstarted and my idea of how it would play out became more predictable, we resumed discussion of possible visitation options. Because I wanted to travel each weekend while abroad, G and G offered me two cities in Europe that they hadn’t been to that were also on my city radar. The choices were Barcelona and Munich. And because, from what I heard, Barcelona has less to see culturally, historically, touristy etc. and the majority of Barcelona is nightlife, which starts at midnight, I figured that the Bavarian capital was a much better option.

So with this decision in store, and my grandparents awaiting me in Munich after their red-eye US Airways flight, I embarked on Thursday midday directly from class on my 7 hour train route, Eurail and all. I finally made it to Munich a little after 8:30 PM, to the relief of my grandparents who had been waiting for almost two hours. (To note: My train was basically on time). From the Munich Hbf we U2-ed (U = underground, 2 = the line) it to Café Ignaz on Georgenstr. 67 for some satiating vegetarian dinner. The Café has become one of my favorite European restaurants – I use ‘have become’ because we returned for another meal later in the weekend. Afterwards, we U-ed back to the hotel, Hotel Herzog Wilhelm (on top of Tannenbaum restaurant) on Herzog-Wilhelm st., for an early night. The hotel was spacious, with three beds and nice facilities. You will see that packing it in early was a theme of ours. This was not necessarily a bad thing.

Friday morning we awoke to the picture of a full throttle buffet, literally 10 steps down our small hall. What’s better then rolling out of bed, putting on shoes, and stuffing your face with cereal, rolls and cheese, oranges, cucumbers, juice, cake, and warm milk mixed with chocolate powder? Gotta eat hurt! Now that’s a way to start a day! Friday was our first day of touring, and of course our highly regimented ‘3rd specialist corporal’ wanted to be on time. Grandma, whose knee was bothering her, opted to rest for the day, so it was just the two men out on the town. After discovering that Rick Steves was wrong about his proposed tram #17 route, we boarded the tram #37 – get it right Rick! – which got us to the Schloss (means Palace) Nymphenberg around 11 ish. Schloss Nymphenberg was similar in shape to Versailles in terms of its horizontal spectrum, and at first appeared topographically similar, but as we explored I realized that the French had far outdone this Schloss in terms of everything. Frankly, I found Schloss Nymphenberg much more enjoyable, quaint, and manageable, but maybe that’s because I saw Versailles on a day where half of the Asian continent had poured into the palace and its gardens.

At Schloss Nymphenberg we took a 45 minute highlight tour of the main section, which included the elector and electress’s (prince and princess’s) various rooms and the main hall. The main hall had a spectacular fresco depicting images of various Roman mythologies. The fresco must have been restored because it was one of my favorite frescos that I have seen thus far on my travels. It had a sense of simplicity and meaning that was attainable to the eye. It wasn’t too busy or full of too much symbolism. And its cornucopia of colors made it pleasant to look at for long periods of time, until of course my neck got tired of staring at the ceiling.

From the Schloss, G and I tram-12-ed it to the Olympiapark. Olympiapark is the designated city area that hosted the ’72 Olympics. Its cob-webbed architected stadium structures still stand prominently. Many of the buildings are still used, including the soccer stadium, an indoor soccer arena and the pool to name a few. Grandpa really was a trooper strolling up and down the hills of the park. The autumn leaves certainly beautified the scenery. At the end of the park was the famous Olympic Tower almost 600 ft. above the ground. We took the elevator to the top and enjoyed the panoramic birds-eye view of the city.

After the tower, we crossed the street to peruse through the new, eco-friendly, BMW museum. We eyed new Beemer models, read some of the information signs, and fiddled with a test-drive game that demonstrated one of BMW’s new all wheel drive amenities. Being that it was almost 3 PM, we decided it was a good time for some lunch. At the BMW café we grabbed some tomato soup and paninis, actually I ate most of Grandpa’s panini. You will find that tomato soup is a big theme around Munich too. Once lunch was finished Grandpa insisted on going back to Grandma in the hotel room, so I continued the touring to the Alte Pinathotek, the Old Art Museum, just a U2 ride away to Konigplatz, on 27 Barer str.

I was particularly interested in the Art Museum because they were having an exhibit on Ruben paintings and Rick Steves in his write-up noted that the art museum showed the differences between Rubens and Rembrandts. Now you must be wondering why all of a sudden I actually care about art. No, it wasn’t my Dad’s doing. But in fact, just this past Wednesday in my Dutch Art History class, one of the options for assigned presentations was From Rembrandt to Ruben. Perfect opportunity. So, after a slight debate with the museum entrance staff about the validity of my student card, I grabbed my audio set, pen, camera without a flash, and paper, and began to document everything I needed to know, that the Munich museum could offer, about the two artists. I first took pictures of all of the pieces of artwork. Next, I sat on a nearby bench and literally wrote down everything, almost verbatim, what the audio tape would say about the painting. If the audio would discuss key parts of the painting I would photograph those close up. Not only did I enjoy the museum and learn a lot, I basically got a good portion of my project complete. I think people thought that I was crazy too. Love it! From the museum I rejoined my grandparents in the hotel to discuss Friday night dinner plans. We opted for a nearby place called Prinz Myshkin, located just a ten minute walk away on Hackenstrasse 2. We indulged in a variety of pasta looking dishes and then called it a night.

Saturday morning we, myself especially, ate a good amount at the breakfast buffet. Then Grandpa walked with me to the Jakobplatz synagogue, about ten minutes away. The Jacobplatz is the square central for Munich Jewry. Along with the synagogue you can find the Munich Jewish Museum and the Munich Jewish Community Center, which specifically houses the Einstein restaurant, reception hall, city and clerical leadership and K-4 private school. It is a very modern and pleasant looking square that not only provides accessibility between the various Jewish buildings along the ground, but also through tunnels below the street level. I suspect that it was recently finished and possibly subsidized by the German government. The whole complex is really a magnificent facility. The synagogue is literally a rectangle box on the outside and within. The sanctuary is all new wood finished pieces. The women are flanking the two sides. The ceiling is an extension of the box but covered with all glass so that the sun peers through during the day. The congregation at the synagogue, we later found out, is almost 80 percent Russian. I noticed that many were older Jews during services. It was very warm to see the way they all cared for each other. From witnessing the different subtle interactions the congregation truly looked like a caring and somewhat vibrant community. Lastly, I later found out that the cantor was just a young man from Switzerland, studying in Israel, testing out the position. Just to note, he was one of the best cantors that I have ever heard, and I feel like I have heard a ton of different people lane. The way he hit some notes were unbelievable, and I usually dislike cantors.

After services and a light drink at Kiddush, I met back up with G and G to spend the day doing some serious center city touring. We first rolled out to the Marienplatz, the main square, to take in the true touristy Munich culture. From the New Courthouse in the Marienplatz, we found our way through the Viktualienmarkt, the main marketplace of Munich. In the market we saw true Bavarian storefronts displaying their myriad of recently slaughtered meats, freshly (I hope) picked fruits, and series of famous beers. A true Bavarian scene. Then Grandpa and I climbed the 306 steps to the top of St. Peters’ church while Grandma waited outside “catching up on her Vitamin D.” Although a tight squeeze with lots of people atop St. Peters’, the climb afforded us with a view of the whole city in great detail. Next stop was a return stroll through the Viktualienmarkt, and then on to the Deutches Museum. Midway on our walk we grabbed a quick lunch bite of small sandwiches. After more walking, we arrived at the museum arrive 3 PM. The Deutches museum, famous for its endless exhibits on Science and Technology, shows true German engineering at its best. Although being one of the biggest museums of its kind in the world, and with many fascinating displays on bridges, trains, tunnels, machinery, robotics and more, we could only take about 2 hours to see everything because it closed at 5. Nonetheless, we took in a lot. It was really quite enjoyable and very informative, even the exhibitions that were all in German, which were many.

Our last tourist stop of the day was at the famous Haufbrau Haus. The Haufbrau Haus has special meaning to me because it was the tent that I spent most of my short stay in while at the Oktoberfest festival a month earlier. Not to mention I had swiped an Oktoberfest beer mug from there as well. Prior to going to the Haus I read about the massive hall on the second floor, which I wanted to find. Guiding my grandparents through the festive, energetic, and wild crowd of beer and culture enthusiasts, the epitome of an uber-Bavarian place, we eventually found the hall, but to my dismay it was hosting a rotary conference. Settling for the feel of the place we opted not to sit in the hall and after some deliberation and searching elected to return to Café Ignaz for another dinner. It was a great decision! And then of course we packed it in for the night. It was a long day of course. My grandparents are such troopers!

Sunday morning, as you would guess, I stuffed my face at the Breakfast buffet again. Obviously the grandparents enjoyed the luscious setup and meal as well. Sunday was the uncertain day. We were vacillating between the two major out of city castles or seeing everything else that we hadn’t seen within the city. We opted for the latter because we weren’t interested in five hours of total transportation and the weather wasn’t promising. The first stop was the highly anticipated moving clock at the Glockenspiel, the clock on top of the New Courthouse in the Marienplatz. Grandma and Grandpa met me at the square because I didn’t want to miss it. To be honest, between the cloudy sky and dismal chimes the moving figures were somewhat overrated. Oh well. Feel free to see extended videos on youtube. Then we attempted to jump along a “I work for tips” free tour of the city, but between the tour guide’s thick British accent, poor annunciation, terrible jokes, and fast walking, the three of us couldn’t keep up. So, we selected the National Museum and nearby park instead.

Before going into the museum, while the weather was still holding up, we took a stroll through the Englischer Gartens, the Rick Steves proclaimed Central Park of Munich. From what I read it is rare to have large, preserved parks in the middle of a large city. Between the foliage, sprawling fields, and flowing water, the gardens proved to be a wonderful location for a walk and some pictures. One highlight at the park was the river, right as you entered, with a man made wave. It appeared to be constructed by a series of strings and a possible dip in the riverbed. About 6 surfers, taking turns, road their boards from bank to bank, some even doing spins and other tricks. The river was flowing so fast that once a surfer would fall off he would be pulled almost 100 feet downstream until he was able to swim to the side.

From the gardens we walked down the street to the Museum. We got there around one-ish, put in just an hour on the whole first floor, saw lots of Catholic influenced art – LOTS – and then called it time for lunch. For lunch we sat at the open café in the main hallway of the front of the museum. As I intimated earlier, we of course had some filling tomato soup and passed the time with some stories of Grandpa and Grandma’s first few years of marriage, of course the climaxes being Grandpa’s three almost court-marshallings. Post museum we headed back to the center of the city to the Jewish Museum. Although small and limited it was very well done and quite powerful. And of course the building was beautiful as well. After the museum we walked across the Jakobplatz to the JCC where I was treated to an authentic kosher meat meal of steak. We also split and falafel and Grandpa had lamb chops, while Grandma had chicken. Delicious! And of course, after dinner we called it a night and a successful weekend visit in Munich at that.

Monday morning we - ? – you guessed it, ate too much at breakfast and then walked to our Underground stop, Sedlinger, where we BOUGHT our respective train tickets and departed home. G and G went to the airport and I enjoyed my 8 hours on the train all the way back to Maastricht. Munich overall was a very lively, culturally rooted, and proud city. The Bavarians are really very different Germans, and it goes beyond the clear Christian differences, Catholicism versus Protestantism - they will be the first to acknowledge the differences. When you think of German (must read in a deep voice) engineering, it comes from Bavaria. When you think of German (must read in deep voice) drinking tendencies, it comes from Bavaria, hence why the center of Oktoberfest is in Munich. And when you think of German (be careful how you read this) strength, epitomized by their power in the World Wars (forget the results), and Munich being the center of transportation and industry of Germany during the World Wars, you think of Bavaria. And experiencing it all with my grandparents, even though it was a different type of touring then I was used to, was all the more special. Hey, what’s wrong with packing it in early and skipping the beer halls? But in all seriousness, spending the time with the people you care most for, like I learned last weekend in Edinburgh, is all that matters. And it was truly a great weekend because of that.

11.02.09 Family Reunited: Destination Edinburgh

For weeks, I had been discussing with a few of my best friends from Muhlenberg, Kelly, Matt and Kelsey, whether or not, and if so where and when we would all meet while abroad in Europe. This is of course the best semester of our lives and why not share at least one weekend of it with each other – if not more! So this was the big weekend. Edinburgh, Scotland, where Kelsey was studying. Matt was touring Ireland during his mid-semester break and finished his trek by arriving into Edinburgh on Wednesday, and Kelly and I navigated a 7:35 PM Ryanair flight from Eindhoven to London Standsted and then 1 hour later an EasyJet 8:50 PM flight to Edinburgh arriving us into Scotland late Thursday night around 10:30 PM. United! Matt and Kelsey met us at the Waverly Bridge bus stop and as Kel and I climbed down the double decker bus into the arms of our family, I can say for myself, it felt like a real vacation had just begun. The four of us walked back to Kelsey’s flat, which she shares with 4 other lovely Edinburgh University students also from the states, dropped off our stuff into her small room, which was going to be our hub for the duration of our stay, and then strolled to the Three Sisters pub for drinks and story-telling. We had a lot to catch up on.
Friday morning Kelsey rolled out early for class, while the three of us slept in. Around midday Matt, Kelly and I got up and proceeded to walk around the Royal Mile, passed Adam Smith’s statue, up to Edinburgh castle and back around. Matt who had been in Edinburgh for two days now was the tour guide. He had an excellent feel for the city. On a personal note, it was amazing not being in charge of logistics, navigation or event planning for once while away on a weekend. Sure I have no idea how to get around Edinburgh and I probably didn’t see everything that I normally would have if I was in my touring craze but nonetheless not being in charge and just going with the flow for once was a great relief and afforded me with the opportunity to truly appreciate each moment I had with my friends. Around noon we reunited with Kels and found a delicious lunch setup of soup and sandwiches at Bobbies Sandwiches.
After Bobbies we strolled back to Edinburgh castle for an informative tour, nice look-around and some funny pictures, of course led by our expert photographer Matt. The view from the peak of the castle provided an incredible outlook of the whole city, just second to the one we would get the following day on Arthur’s Seat. At the Castle we saw the Chapel, large cannons, crown jewels, World War II memorial, famous hall, royal apartments and dungeons. From Edinburgh castle we tiredly walked to our Whiskey Tour just a few feet below the castle. The tour consisted of a more entertaining than edifying explanation of the brewing process. We rolled through on the seats of a fake barrel car that rode us through a series of narrated projector images. From this 7 minute excursion we entered into a small exhibit, which then flowed into a tasting room. In the tasting room we sat around a long counter table where in front of us we were given four canisters with cotton balls inside, each containing one of the specific scents of the four different whiskey brewing regions of Scotland. After sampling what the four regions’ whiskies stereotypically smelled like we were given a choice which of the four whiskies we would like to try. Once we had our whiskey, we entered into a large whiskey showcase room, where we learned the appropriate way to assess and sample our liquor and then each got to ‘enjoy’ our small sip. After the tour we got to keep our individual whiskey glasses as souvenirs.
From the whiskey tour we were pretty pooped. So, we grabbed boxed pizza from Pizza Paradise, some drinks form the nearby store, and had a nice quiet dinner in Kelsey’s kitchen. For the rest of the early evening we relaxed in the flat and continued to catch up. Around 8 PM we were joined by Kelsey’s friends. Once all acquainted we rolled out for a night on the town passing by different dance clubs, bars and pubs, before we settled on one very lively spot. We packed it in around 1 AM that night, but of course Matt and I stayed awake to watch the Yanks beat up Pedro and defeat the Phillies.
Saturday morning we again woke up relatively later – love vacation. For breakfast master chef Matt made everyone omelets with the remaining eggs in the fridge. For me my big debate was whether to continue my trip to Belfast or not. For a slew of reasons, which were: being in the midst of my country counting – the need to see every country craze; because the tickets were slightly cheaper; and because Matt was leaving on Sunday morning, I decided to book myself to fly to Belfast Sunday morning for a one day excursion, leaving the northern Ireland UK province on Monday afternoon, and arriving me in Amsterdam around 4 PM the next day, Monday 11.02. At the time, little did I realize that the valuable lesson of spending time with the ones you truly care about should always override personal and solitary goals, especial ones that are somewhat ambiguous and potentially stressful, like navigating Northern Ireland for one day. So despite the large fee I accrued from switching my flight, which I figured my budget could eat the costs, and considering my mother chirping in my ear not to travel alone, I changed my flight to fly out with Kelly on Monday afternoon. This alteration gave me another day and a half with my buddies. I also think my last minute decision to stay in Edinburgh for the extra day and half stemmed from the following dream I had:

Ok. So that is a little much but it is true. Saturday midday we walked to Dynamic Earth a famous relatively new Earth Science exhibit where you can ‘walk in a rain forest and touch an iceberg.’ Dynamic earth highlighted key events and compositional facets from the earth’s conception to current times. After traveling back in time to 4 billion years ago and in the course of an hour aging to the present, we entered into the museum’s main attraction, its 25 minute astronomy and space technology circular theater. It was really a neat little museum. Once we were done prancing around the exhibit and got some lunch at their café, we proceeded to adventure up the face of Arthur’s Seat, Edinburgh’s tallest peak and ultimate viewpoint. My only stipulation while touring in Edinburgh was that we hike Arthur’s Seat at either sunrise or sunset. Although it took some time, and some varying routes throughout our ascent we made it just in time. To climb up we ascended along the ridge that enabled us an increasingly panoramic view of much of Edinburgh and the Ferth of Forth. At the last stage Matt and I elected to scale the steep face right up the middle of the mountain because we feared that we would miss the sunset; the girls took the more traditional route around the side. At times Matt and I were climbing at near 60 degree angles right through the cutout of the rocks. All four of us made it just in time for the setting sun through the clouds. The view was spectacular! At that moment I truly realized how special Edinburgh was. I questioned though was my connection to Scotland rooted in my first visit to the country with my family in August three years earlier? Was it because I was enjoying the bagpipe country’s capital city with my Muhlenberg family now? Was it because I had not a worry in the world, nor did I have the pressure of making any decisions or stating where, when and how we should go about our touring? Or could it be that me and Scotland are just meant to be? Although ridiculous, I think it may be a combination of all of the above. As that Saturday sun set through the clouds and the haze of Edinburgh gave way to little night lights sprinkled across the horizon I realized how much I truly loved the city.
Upon Arthur we saw everything from the Castle to the rubgy stadium, from the North Sea to the innermost parts of the bay. We overlooked the nearby mountain, or hill in comparison to the magnitude of Arthur’s seat, and we witnessed a major international city illuminate as dusk set in. Edinburgh in full autumn forum, with tinges of oranges, reds, grays and blues outlining the darkening sky, and a masterful palette of all other colors sprouting up like play cities and picturesque landscapes below our feet made for the ultimate Berg family photo. If only Maetal and Molly, the two missing family members, were there to join. Maybe we can crop them in?
It was getting dark so we had to begin our descent. Luckily we got down relatively quickly, despite the surging stiffness in our lower halves from the pounding walk. Once off of Arthur we booked it to the infamous Chocolate Soup café where we indulged in spirit of ‘dessert first.’ Kels wisely chose a less heavy coffee chocolate drink whereas Kelly, Matt and I each got a version of a chocolate brownie dish. It was like eating our deaths, but you gotta do that sometimes. We gulfed down our dishes attempting to savor each inhalation of a bite. Once consumed, no less than ten minutes later, we scampered a few blocks away to catch an epic Halloween night ghost tour that Kelsey had arranged. Kels, who had been on a tour before, warned us in advance of the scares that occur on the tour. So even before we joined the group I can honestly say that each of us was a little nervous. Huddled together we embarked with 50 other Edinburgh students on a very entertaining ghost tour. It started out with a soliloquy by our costume wearing guide on the steps of the town church. As she recited the history of Edinburgh’s dark days of torture, witchery and war, she had Matt stand next to her to make an example of what would happen to those accused of witchery or other crimes. It was quite comical listening to the guide describe Matt being tortured, thrown into a river of poop, knowing that we would also stone him, and then hearing that he would be burned at the cross – just lovely. Eventually, we made it into the feared vaults where the guide separated all the men and women at one point to emphasize what horrors occurred in one of the rooms. The tour at times was a little creepy, but didn’t live up to the hype. My guess was that because we were squeezed into a timeslot and were such a large group that navigating all the depths of the feared vaults were too challenging. No worries. Nonetheless it was still entertaining.
After the vaults we returned to Kelsey’s flat to get changed for a night of Halloween fun. The girls put together a relatively creative costume of a rugby player (Kelsey) and a librarian/teacher (Kelly). Matt and I vacillated between costume ideas but eventually settled with him being a prep and me donning Kelsey’s sheet as a toga. Lets just say, entering into the Vodka Revolution restaurant, especially before the Halloween crowd arrived, we turned some heads, me especially because I wasn’t wearing a shirt underneath Kelsey’s sheet. Regardless, we enjoyed a delicious dinner with some drinks and it proved to be an excellent start to the night.
Around 10 ish, after sulking in our meal for a good amount of time, we moseyed on over to the Edinburgh student center to celebrate Halloween. Kels had purchased tickets in advance for all of us. Although the party wasn’t really hopping so much it was still awesome to see a whole university building, with long wood staircases, libraries, couches and student work areas transformed to look like a real party scene. And people got really dressed up! Very scary! At the student center we met up with Kelsey’s friends, walked around the scene for a little and then packed it in around midnight or so because Matt had to be up around 3 AM for his bus trip to the airport. Upon returning to Kelsey’s flat, I flipped on the Yankee game and chatted with one of Kelsey’s flat mates, Katie, while the three others napped. At 3:15 AM, Katie went to sleep, it was about the 5th inning or so, and the four of us walked Matt to the bus station on Waverly Bridge. Edinburgh at 3:30 AM on Halloween night was quite the scene. When the ghost tour guide said that Edinburgh was the most haunted city in the world we now knew what she meant. Every street we turned was filled with Edinburgh locals or students dressed in horribly terrifying costumes just laying around the streets, yelling, drinking, fraternizing and of course more. We huddled close for fear that we would be sucked in the perils of the underworld. It literally looked like purgatory or something. Eventually Matt’s Airlink bus came and it was just so comical to watch Matt with his suitcase, Yankees hat and sperries board next to a myriad of costume sporting people, one guy especially, being that he was a face painted, hair dyed barbarian. Once Matt was safely on his way to the airport, we hope being protected by his new barbarian friend, we sped walked back to Kelsey’s flat for more sleep. I of course stayed up to watch the Yankees close out another game.
Sunday morning was a little slower because we were pretty tired, Matt had left, and of course we had some authentic Scottish weather consisting of heavy downpours. We had a filling brunch at Always Sunday and then roamed the Royal Mile between various shops looking for different souvenirs, such as sweaters, rugby shirts and scarves. After a successful shopping spree, we dropped our stuff back off at Kelsey’s flat, grabbed a quick bite from the fridge, and then boarded a cab to the local Edinburgh v. Newport Rugby match. To be honest, I am still uncertain of all of the rules of the sport but I think I gathered a fair amount. We huddled underneath the overhang out of the rain with most of the other nonchalant fans. It appeared that this rugby match was played at a lower skilled level, most likely because of the two teams’ abilities and the inclement weather. The visiting team happened two score the equivalent of a field goal three separate times and Edinburgh didn’t retaliate until the last ten minutes. So for most of the game the 15 on 15 players just exchanged positions, seemingly smacking each other, kicking the ball from end to end, and not appearing to capitalize. But spontaneously, at the 70th minute Edinburgh made a surge down the right field side, which made things much more exciting. Although our hot chocolate actually appeared browner then poop, and was potentially glossed with sewer water, as Kelly noted, we found a way to stay warm, stay entertained and thoroughly enjoy the match.
From the match we were all craving a nice dinner. Our cab dropped us off at Maggie Dickson’s where Kelly and I had a massive platter of fish and chips, while Kels had macaroni. We stayed at Dickson’s for over two hours enjoying our food, warming up and speculating on life, the future, our friendships and the semester ahead. From the restaurant we splurged on ice cream sundaes at Made in Italy. What a night. From there we walked back to the flat to pack it in.
Monday morning was somewhat bittersweet. We slept in a little bit, but relative to the other mornings we were up early. We packed up, showered, and prepared for departure. Prior to leaving we strolled around the Royal Mile one last time and walked into Kelsey’s religion building to print out our boarding passes. Around noon, Kelsey walked Kel and me to Waverly Bridge where we said our final ‘cya laters.’ It was really bittersweet. Then we boarded the Airlink bus back to the airport, eventually boarded our EasyJet flight to Amsterdam and once in Amsterdam trained back to Maastricht, getting us back into our home station around 8 PM.
I can say for all of us, no one really wanted to split. The weekend was truly the ultimate family vacation. We all did one or more thing that individually we wanted to accomplish (ie Kelly with the ghost tour, me with Arthur’s Seat etc.) At school we have bonding nights where we all just chill and it reminded us of those nights. This past weekend really made us all extremely excited to be back at Muhlenberg for the upcoming few semesters.
This weekend for me was by far my most enjoyable weekend. It may not have been the most adventuresome, like Copenhagen, or most touristy, like London, or craziest, prettiest or whatever. But hands down it was my most enjoyable and fulfilling weekend. For this reason Edinburgh will always remain one of my favorite cities. Spending this weekend with my best friends really capped off my abroad experience. For the most part, everything else from here on out I will most likely consider icing on the cake. But please do bring on the icing because I got 6 weeks left to live up my semester in Europe!

10.26.09 – Mid-semester Vacation in Israel with Adi

Reaching my vacation took almost 26 hours. About 6 segments of different transport totaling 4-5 hours. The trip commenced at 11:30 AM. My 6 segments were the following: 1. Amsterdam Central to Brussels International by train. 2. Killed time in Brussels International Airport. 3. Departed on my first ever Elal flight at 7:30 PM, landing in Tel Aviv – Ben Gurion at 11:55 PM. 4. After buying a train ticket at 12:30 AM, I slept on the airport floor, Floor 1, around the corner from the rental car counters. 5. Took the 5:16 AM train to the Tel Aviv Central Bus station, not knowing that my bus reservation was for the previous morning. Miscommunication with Adi…er….. So instead of leaving at 6:30 AM, I killed an additional 1.5 hours and boarded on my new bus ticket scheduled time 8 AM for Eilat. 6. I arrived at my destination, finally, at 1:30 PM. Gotta love packed Egged coach busses. What a schlep to the middle of nowhere. I was dropped off in the parched Arava desert, 40 km north of Eilat, bordering Jordan, at none other than Kibbutz Ketura and the Arava Institute, temporary place of study and residence of my best friend Adi Segal!
To note something about this great schlep. One thing I noticed, which I never had before on previous Israel trips, were the many faces of Israelis. I probably notice this now than on past trips because in the past I did more touristy things, with a group, and this time I was alone, navigating the Aretz relatively solo, I had Adi’s directions. Because I surprisingly had an additional wait at the Tel Aviv Bus Central Station (Tachanat Mercazit), and I didn’t want to read anything for fear of falling asleep, I chose to sit on a bench in the middle of the departure hall on the 6th floor, outside my bus’s gate number 601, and watch in complete silence every person walk by for about an hour straight. The diversity of race and creed of Israeli citizen reflects two messages: 1. Israel’s willingness and forefront demeanor to rescue people in humanitarian need with open borders and an attempt at societal integration (disqualify the Palestinian situation regarding this comment). 2. And the place where a Jewish convert can have any background, and can still become a part of the Jewish people as long as he/she has the Jewish neshama (soul). I’m talking about every spectrum of racial color wearing a yalmuka that Wednesday morning. Hundreds of soldiers of all units, divisions, uniforms, sizes and shapes – of course some with guns, some with packs and some with nothing. People of all economics levels, from wealthy, poshy women, to the visibly poorest people, and from clearly well-dressed teens closing out a fun night to some old men who piss on a wall outside or spit on the station floor inside. There were pushy businessmen, sleezy sales vendors, blue collar workers and servicemen, public and civil servants, high healed wives, large families, secular Jews and of course the standard tzitzit (strings), black hat and coat, and payus (hair curls), orthodox, charedi and lubavitch Jews spanning every imaginable school of Jewish thought and practice. Let me just say of these varying Jewish groups. I have found that the religious right extremists are in their own world. It is just amazing. Regardless of this rainbow of colors, cornucopia of paint options on the pallete that is “The Aretz” (The Land), all parties considered have a connection to Israel.
So Ketura…I made it. My reason was twofold. First, obviously to see Adi, and second to be in Israel. Adi was studying at the Arava Institute, which is an academic institution focused on environmental education from all different angles. The Arava uses the facilities of the Kibbutz but is a separate organization. The Institute comprises of 30 or so students from Israel, Palestinian territories, West Bank usually, and the USA. Everyone lives together, but in a Jewish environment. It is a real model for dialogue and co-existence and we got to experience some of that later in the week. Adi is only at the Arava for one semester and then he does the second semester at Hebrew University in Jerusalem.
The agenda of activities for this luxurious desert vacation were limited, thankfully. Adi was just starting classes this week so he had plenty of lecture time to enjoy and for me, all I had on my radar was the eating marathon that I would embark on, trying to get as much sun as possible, and catch up on sleep. On Wednesday, immediately once I arrived, and after a nourishing taste of the Kibbutz all-you-can-eat-buffet-style lunch – meatloaf, – I settled in to Adi’s double, did some emails and relaxed. Then, as the heat of the day subsided and classes ended, I received a very informative tour of Ketura. Of course we then had dinner, more eating, and hung out for the evening, catching up first in an outdoor mud hut and then with Adi’s Palestinian, Christian friend, Isthmian, with a few beers on a peripheral kibbutz rock hill.
Thursday we woke up around 9:30 ish for some breakfast. I devoured 2 omelets and as Adi subsequently went to class, I went back to sleep. Around noon Adi and I convened with all of the students in his program to take a series of pictures to mark the Arava Institute’s support of the 350 organization against climate change. The organization’s mission is to spread awareness about the earth’s carbon emissions. It is founded on the idea that if the earth’s emissions goes over 350 million tones it will be in severe trouble; today it is about 380. From the photo shoot we went to lunch, yup more eating, but this meal was the famous, highly coveted, once a month schnitzel dish. In the afternoon Adi went to more class, this time Eco-Health, his favorite, and I sat by the pool taking in the sun, reading the Wall Street Journal and doing some laps. In the evening we experienced a kibbutz garage sale – souvenir shopping-, had some dinner and prepared for a night hike. Behind the kibbutz’s back fence, its backyard, is a monotonous, homogenous rock and sand desert, set at the foot of a chain of hills. At night we used the kibbutz’s light pollution and stars to navigate the rugged and unpredictable terrain. At times we followed the wadis (indented pathways in the surface formed by flash floods) to access the hills. Adi, our fearless hike leader, was hoping to find a zoola (stone shelter structure constructed years ago) for us to camp out under the crisp fresco of stars above. Unfortunately, we didn’t find this zoola, but nonetheless we scaled a sloping hill and crossed along a ridge to finally settle in a flat place. Although the nearby kibbutzim and passing dust clouds somewhat obstructed our view, and winds did pick up intensity as the night got later, the hike and star gazing proved to be, as expected, very special. How often is your backyard a desert each night showered by shooting stars, like Ketura’s is? I made a few wishes…After our hike I got a drink at the kibbutz’s pub and Adi and I ended the night strolling around the industrial and dairy area.
Friday was my big tourist day because Adi had no classes. I also wanted to use the day for some pictures. After a late wakeup and some nourishing lunch, Adi showed me in further detail the dairy (cows) area. 300 cows getting milked, fed, showered and massaged on a multi-time a day procedure. Adi shared with me that it is cheaper for the kibbutz to transport their milk to a nearby kibbutz, Yotvata, to have it processed, and then buy it back. After the dairy area we walked along the Algae production plant. Pretty cool stuff! Speaking of Yotvata, the Arava region’s central and 1st kibbutz, we hitch-hiked a ride with a fellow Ketura member to Yotvata for some chocolate milk (Choco-ba-Sackit) and ice cream. Wow! So good! After the indulgence we returned the 10 km to Ketura in the car of a Kibbutz Lotan security guard. Great adventure. Once back we prepared for Shabbat, went to services, enjoyed a nearby roast beef dinner – like schnitzel, a rarity – and retired early for the evening.
Saturday we went to services. It was parasha Noah (section of torah reading), my Bar Mitzvah portion. This Shabbat the kibbutz was celebrating Golan’s bar mitzvah. It was fascinating to take part in a kibbutz celebration. Many of the children and Jewishly observant parents relished in this special moment and embraced Golan’s simcha (celebration) with open arms and receptive hearts. Kibbutz bar mitzvahs epitomize the saying “it takes a village to raise a child.” When Golan gave his dvar torah (speech addressing his bar mitzvah) he discussed his various obstacles of having to move from the USA to Israel, and now back. As he spoke it was visible the connection his extended family – the other kibbutz members – shared.
From services we had a celebratory Kiddush and then a Rabbi Michael lecture comparing the environment and the recent biblical stories, such as creation, the tower of Babel, and the flood. He highlighted different but interwoven things: correlating themes of diversity in ecosystems, animals, people and languages; humans and the world being created together and not the world for humans; and the importance of maintaining God’s creations. I particularly appreciated his analysis about recent human ethnocentrism and that the world is not ours, in fact, without humans organisms would be better off.
Of course then we ate more. Post lunch Adi and I embarked on an afternoon hike up a nearby hill and around the ridges to the north of the kibbutz. At the summit of the first hill we stopped to peer down at the shrinking kibbutz below, and surrounding scenery and topography. The colors were rich with heavy, opaque tans, yellows and golds – sand and stone – sprinkled with scattered green sprouts – trees – a blue hazy ceiling – sky – and of course the cornucopia of colors from human civilization below. A real masterpiece. Eventually, we strolled through a wadi, wrapped around the various hills and ended on a path that faced south. As we walked along the road heading back to the kibbutz entrance (going south), we were guided by the forthcoming star light. We returned just in time for havdalah and of course another meal.
Our Saturday night plans led us on a bus excursion to Eilat, just 38 shekels round trip southward. In Eilat we roamed the boardwalk, peered into the stupid stores that all sell the same crap, and debated whether to buy ice slushy shakes from where and for how much. Midway through, as our typical food craving re-erupted, just a few hours after dinner, the 4th meal of the day, our attention turned to maximizing our opportunities of being able to eat the American fast food because it is mostly kosher in Israel. We settled on KFC. Adi and I split 6 chicken fingers, ‘chips’ and a drink. It was like eating our deaths. Adi remarked as we sat in the middle of an authentic KFC that we were sitting in the aroma of a heart attack. All I can say was that the experience lived up to my expectation – it was god awful. Fun and an experience nonetheless. Afterwards, we did some shopping, me in particular; bought a box of cookies to binge on for the bus back. We returned back to Ketura around 1:30 AM and packed it in for the night.
Sunday morning at 8 AM I insisted on embarking on one more hike, so Adi took me to the date tree orchards across the street, a major revenue generator for the kibbutz, the open farm and manure fields and the Jordanian border. Despite the incessant flies our desert stroll was a great way to start the day and cap off the vacation. Afterwards, Adi went to class and I packed up my stuff. We did a final meal in our marathon of feasts and then I was off on my 1:15 PM bus north for Tel Aviv.
Traveling back to Brussels international was almost as eventful as traveling to Ketura. Almost 5 hours on the bus, killing 5 hours in Tel Aviv, which I partially did by eating an indigenous Israeli falafel in the central bus station, a 4 hour flight and 3 hours training back from Brussels. The only highlight in transit occurred while waiting at the airport gate in Tel Aviv with a wonderful young family. Father, Alexander Berlin, initially asked me to help him carry his small luggage because his wife was taking care of their four month old daughter and other provisions. Of course, I was honored to help. This sparked a long dialogue about our travels, experiences, education, Judaism and life overall. Berlin, a doctor from Santiago, Chile, and his wife who was also from Santiago, had attempted to leave their luxurious lives in Chile to try to make aliyah to Ramat Gan, Tel Aviv. Disappointed with his experience living in Israel, Berlin an oncologist by training, was traveling to Antwerp, Brussels, and North France for interviews at different hospitals. I shared with him about my experiences in this part of Western Europe and that I not only agreed with him about “pushy Israelis”, but that he would enjoy the friendlier, slower, less-survival-of-the-fittest environment in Belgium and North France. My interaction with the Berlin family was one of those where they will never realize how happy it made me.
Being that it was my first kibbutz experience, an experience that I was waiting to have for much of my life that I have known about kibbutzim, I really learned a lot. I would say that the definitive moment of my kibbutz education came at Thursday night dinner, where Adi and I were joined by a few kibbutz members and Arava professors, one being, I think named Noam. Because they were curious in who I was, I took the liberty to ask them about who they were, and therefore about their experiences on kibbutz. My primary objective was not just to learn about the inner workings of Ketura, or general kibbutz life overall, but to also determine if I was a good candidate for kibbutz and could I handle such a socialist environment. My conclusion, to my dismay and relief was probably not….. Allow me to free write: Kibbutz is an atmosphere that requires a high level of patience and tolerance. Everyone owns everything, including seemingly each other. You are bound to sharing everything and the social pressures of your extended family – the other kibbutz members – are constantly around. I feel as though kibbutz can be somewhat like any Jewish circle, just magnified, especially in terms of the gossip. I was also a little disturbed with one kibbutz member feeling very comfortable, maybe too comfortable, when he walked to the dining hall in his boxers and open button down shirt, and this guy must have been 60. Granted it is his dining hall too. But what happens if you want to leave the kibbutz? Doesn’t that create an uncomfortable situation? What happens if you need an extended vacation from everyone being in your life? What happens if you have a serious problem with someone? Coexistence? Not when you have to share everything. I know that there are councils and different circles of leadership and kibbutz direction organized to make these decisions but I don’t know if they would do an adequate job. The truth is, from my perspective, the concept of a kibbutz is brilliant, but in our ever growing world of class and capitalism, at least as seen by someone who has grown up in the Northeast of the USA, kibbutz is a pastime. Personally, I wish I could develop the tolerance and patience for the inefficiencies of kibbutz and the various dynamics between factions and families, but I don’t think I ever will. As Adi always makes fun of me when he says, I am too capitalist, too competitive and too type A. And he is right. But Kibbutz and Kibbutz people do have two things that few people in the world can say they have: the first is material and the second is a combination of something mental, psychological, and spiritual. First, how many people can say that their salaries gets them all the food they need, a backyard the size of a desert, literally, with hiking trails and camping locations, a full size swimming pool, basketball court, soccer field, volleyball net, a shul within walking distance, farm animals to be entertained with, a pub nearby, a convenience store near that, cable TV, a phone…you get the picture. And plus the salary won’t ever really change. The salary and occupation remains relatively constant for the rest of your life. There is always a possibility that your career may change, but it will never affect your standard of living. The second thing is that if you can reach a level of satisfaction, contentness, satiation, tolerance and patience in your life, and you can settle for a socialist environment, where there may be certain limitations, and not everything you want within your personal reach you can have, than you can be happy on kibbutz. And being a happy kibbutz member, one that is truly in support of, a full believer in, and truly happy with a kibbutz lifestyle is the best thing available. Although utopian, and although discords arise I am certain, kibbutz life at its fullest must be extremely fulfilling. Creating a self-sustaining community, where everyone does what they can do to help and everyone cares and invests as much as they can, sounds like the ultimate team victory. But knowing that that is the case, and achieving that specific mindset is most important, or else kibbutz living is unattainable. That’s where I think I fall short the most with kibbutz living.
Israel overall was wonderful. The vacation between blocks that I really needed. Traveling solo, like past trips, provided time for a lot of introspection and reflection, and of course writing. I realized a lot about Israel in my travels too. For the first time I was taken out of my utopian, touristy world, and left alone to survive in the Middle East. Sure, Israel isn’t like the rest of the Middle East, but it actually is. I will always feel like Israel as a Jew is a place of spirituality and commitment, but I do not like Israelis that much. There is a sense of pushiness, egocentrism, ethnocentrism, entitlement, the need to survive. I hate the way Israelis do business too. This trip to Israel opened my eyes up to a lot of the not so pretty parts of the holyland. Nonetheless, my time in Israel was highly fulfilling, mentally, physically and spiritually. And most importantly, Adi and I got some real quality time.

10.20.09 - Close of Block One

What a grand finale! After getting back from Copenhagen and finishing up my climate change presentation, I had 2 things to focus on: final exam and final paper. Now I realize that this is my first mention of academics so allow me to elaborate.
My 16 week semester is divided into Block 1 and 2, eight weeks each. Seven weeks of studying, one week of finals exams. For my program, The Center for European Studies (CES), you take 2 classes in each block, about 8 hours of class a week. In the CSE program for my college we take one class through the Maastricht University’s bus and economics faculty (“UM class”) and three courses through CES directly (“CES class”). This Block, I was in Business and Politics in Europe (BPE), a UM class and European of Economic Integration (EEI), a CES class.
BPE like all UM classes are taught in the unique, indigenous to Maastricht “PBL” style, or Problem Based Learning. This style in essence is students sitting around a table and discussing the class material for the duration of the class, usually about 2 hours. Students act as discussion leaders and facilitate classroom conversation. Tutors, professors, sit along the periphery, sometimes physically, but usually just the periphery of the dialogue and chime in to clarify or redirect students if they get off track. Tutors are also the graders in each class. PBL style was conceived by Maastricht, upon its found in ’76 as a means to differentiate itself from all the other Netherlands schools. The idea is that through student participation, leadership, initiative and assertiveness in the classroom and in regards to their preparation of material, students will become more confident by speaking up, better public speakers and presenters, and more effective analyzers and synthesizers of information; therefore, becoming more competitive and qualified candidates for employment. And I think that when correctly implemented, PBL achieves those goals. For me, someone who loves classroom discussion and thrives off of participation, the PBL style most of the time was very enjoyable. However, the nature of my BPE course was somewhat disappoint because the material was dull and block coordinator psychotic. But my class composition was almost all foreign students because it was a UM class. Its makeup was 7 Germans, 1 Singaporean, 1 Canadian, 2 Swedes and 1 other American – total of 13. I have become very good friends with one of the Germans, Mark Nitschke through our group discussion leading and climate change presentation.
My EEI class, the CES one, was a lecture with all of the Muhlenberg Students. It was taught by Math Heckman, the Mr. do-it-all professor. One day he talks about his job for the Commission, next his professor post for the business and economics school as an international accounting specialist, after that his consultancy experience in the risk management of 30 million dollars buildings, and once about playing rugby, maybe even professionally. This guy has been everywhere too. This was the type of lecture that I just needed to listen and I would retain most of the information. Loved this class!
To NOTE: My schedule was: BPE Monday and Thursday 1:30-3:30PM. EEI Tuesday and Thursday 8:30-10:30 PM. So not classes on Wednesdays or Fridays. Love Abroad!
So back to the two big assignments. To close the Block , this past Thursday, I had a final cumulative exam in EEI for 50% of my grade (I had a midterm exam for the other 50% already) and due at the end of the week for BPE I had a final paper, 12 pages long incorporating 13 sources, for another 50% of my grade (I had 20% in a previous paper, and 30% for my presentation). The EEI exam was just a matter of buckling down and studying. The real hindrance was my final 12 page paper. Incorporating 13 sources into just max 12 pages is quite the challenge, plus we are talking about sources that are 15-35 pages of academic papers for the most part. The clincher was that Mom and Dad arrived to Maastricht on Thursday midday and the plan was for us to go to Amsterdam on Sunday. So I got deadlines and pressure. After a preparatory and outline filled Thursday night, I woke up at 7:30 AM on Friday to write the paper; it was almost complete by 4 AM that night (Sat. morning). Although my brain was fried by Saturday night my final paper was complete. One Block under my belt, but sadly this also means halfway point of my semester abroad.
Vacation with Mom and Dad: Mom and Dad arrived on Thursday (10.18.09) around midday to their hotel, Hotel Les Charmes. I intentionally wanted them to book this weekend prior to finals week because I know that I would be around and wouldn’t be inclined to traveling with friends. Plus, my gut said that my work would be so unmanageable…
Anyways, having Mom and Dad in Maastricht was very special. They got to tour the “everything to see, nothing to see” aspects of Maastricht, which is a lot more than I’ve seen. Dad probably knows the city better than I do by now. Thursday night we had a lovely dinner with Dr. Laposata and his wife Kathie at De Perroen restaurant, followed by some filling dessert and continued wonderful conversation at the Laposata apartment. At the apartment 2 former Muhlenberg/Maastricht students from the 2005 Maastricht class, who were visiting for the week, joined us as well. My night ended with much thorough outlining and summarizing of my big essay, as mentioned above.
Friday Mom and Dad walked around the city some more, while I started my day at 7:30 AM right where I had left off the night before – painfully laboring through my essay. Around midday Mom and Dad surprised me at the guesthouse, so I gave them a tour of the facilities, especially the notable disgusting kitchen. Friday night closed with a lovely dinner with the parents and a very early in the morning near paper completion.
Saturday, Dad and I went to shul, Mom went to Barry’s gym. We resume dour afternoon for some hardy conversation around a picnic lunch in the hotel room, followed by some paper editing between Mom and I. In the evening, I finalized my paper, then we had a lovely dinner, and a lovely dessert with friend Josh. I spent the rest of the night and morning closing up shop on Block 1 and preparing for VACATION!
Sunday and Monday we toured Amsterdam together. Getting to the station on time in the morning was quite challenging, and transferring in Utrecht was even more troublesome. Nonetheless, we really realized in Amsterdam. Did more walking and seeing then touristy things. To be honest, it was pretty amusing strolling through the Red Light District with the Rents on Monday Night.
Overall, having Mom and Dad in town, seeing my city, and then once the paper was complete and sent out, vacationing with them, was a real treat. I really had missed them and having someone from home, who knows and understands me, especially to the extent of my parents, was really special, comforting and rejuvenating. Sure we had out parent-son moments of worry and advice, like “I don’t know about Belfast or Turkey…” that’s what makes our relationship. J Furthermore, Mom and Dad solidified my pact with myself to see more of Maastricht in Block 2. I am very lucky that my parents came, were able to immerse themselves in my current lifestyle and vacation with me at the same time. Block 1 far exceeded expectations – even including dealing with BPE, where I think I actually learned a ton despite the pain involved. Block 2 should only be better! But until then, Israel for 5 days. As I put my parents on the train headed for Schipol Airport, my personal vacation truly began!

10.12.09 – Copenhagen, Malmo

The Copenhagen adventure had a typical start: bicycle ride to Maastricht Station with bags too heavy, stocked with food, clothing and other provision; #50 bus to Aachen HBF; kill time in Aachen upon boarding train to next destination, in this case, Wupertol, Germany. However, with this trip, one cannot use the term typical from Aachen station on, and one must underscore the word ADVENTURE, for this weekend contained the greatest ADVENTURES thus far.

It all started when Josh, Mike, Eli and I had to wait 25 minutes in Aachen for our train to Wupertol. Now this wouldn’t be such a problem if we didn’t have a 14 minute window in Wupertol to catch our sleepr car directed straight for Copenhagen. Eventually, we got to Wupertol Central – eventually because we went to a minor Wupertol station first…and of course the delay. We found out later on that someone decided to lay down in the train tracks so the police shut down part of our route. Upon realizing we needed to alter our transportation plans, we also realized that Deeda, a nice, well traveled, 30 year USA national figure skating veteran, from Alabama, had the same schedule as we did, except she ended in Berlin. Considering she was traveling alone to see her son studying abroad, and she also spoke fluent German, we encouraged her to join our motley crew of unshaven, highly charming and somewhat cruede manly men. So after receiving new itineraries and vouchers for refunds on our sleeper car reservations, the five of us continued to Dusselldorf, where we killed 3 hours in a McDonald’s over a bottle of wine, horrible tasting German equivalence of chocolate covered pretzels, and of course highly stimulating conversation. At about 2:30 AM we got our non-sleeping train to Hamburg. He arrived in Hamburg at about 7:00 AM, took a picture with Deeda immediately right before she took off for Berlin. We then were finally one stop away from Copenhagen or so we thought. While the guys grabbed some morning grub I labor to get our 20 euro each reservation refunded by the train people. Almost got to yelling but it was a success. So we were on our way….Not So Fast.

To our happy surprise, 2 hours into the journey our 4 car train boarded the belly of a Scandilines cruiseliner to cross the Baltic to Denmark. We were mandated to temporarily exit the train and, to our pleasure, climb on the deck. The 4 of us plopped ourselves at the panoramic window at the front of the boat to watch it navigate through the icy and rough Baltic waters. As we neared the Danish coast, I decided to go to the deck to view the nearing wind turbine fields. Obviously fascinated by the turbines, Danish renewable energy and sustainable development projects, and local impressions on those topics, I struck up a conversation with the captain of the ship. About 5 minutes into great dialogue I realized that I had to board my train. I dashed down the stairs, asked some frantic questions on the barren 2nd floor, and bolted to the boat’s belly to find everything, docked up, open and empty. Sprinting down the tracks within the boat, I asked 2 dock workers where the Copenhagen train was. Mind you, I left my cell on the train with all of my other belongings. Both workers pointed through the opening in the gate outside of the boat in the near distance. I was freaking out now. “Run!” they said with a smirk of foolishness. On the close horizon, I saw a small train at a platform with two blue speckles mulling around outside. Never have I run so fast. Sprinting on the iron and rocky tracks, bounding over rocks and leaping onto the cement platform, I jolted to the 2 speckles, hollering bloody murder, “Wait….Please…..Wait….. Copenhagen….WAIT!!!!” with my hands waiving like mad in the air. Thank god the 2 blue speckles, to which I now realized were suited conductors, saw me running for my life or else I would have been absolutely stranded. Now that’s ADVENTURE. The 3 others, nestled safely and warmly on the train were un-visibly relieved to see me actually join them for the duration of the trip. All that matters is that I made it. The conductor said after that if I had not run they would’ve left.

What I learned from the Captain about Danish environmental policy: The power plant companies build the turbines throughout Denmark. He likes how they can produce clean energy. The island we were docked on, consisting of 120 houses, is all heated by hydrogen and I think powered mostly by wind. He intimated that the Danish were very proud of their environmental initiatives and practices.

I would’ve loved to talk longer but I would’ve actually missed my train. So, FINALLY, 18 HOURS LATER we arrived in Copenhagen, pretty exhausted but determined to maximize our first day in the city we so longed to see. From the ornate dark wood ceiling train station, we checked into our lodging, Hotel Copenhagen, to drop off our still, very heavy luggage, and gather our bearings on our newest city. Hostelworld review: “Although very tight, comfortable rooming. Beds and comforter better than a 5 star Marriot. Manageably clean. Overly helpful staff. Free internet-love it! Although you pay for breaky it is worth it. 20 min. walk from center city, and 5 minute walk to metro or bus. Location not ideal but VERY doable. A must stay place.”

Friday afternoon we trained from our Islands Brygge metro station to Nytorv Kongens, which lead us to the picturesque center city view of The Old Stage Theater, the nearby canal, and square. We first arranged our canal tour tickets, and then strolled to Rosenborg Castle where we became distracted by the always funny and silent marching guards. To our disappointment and dearth of time, we were unable to fully tour the castle, so we settled for a highly accidental, spontaneous, but very informative meeting at the Danish Commission building with Head of Information civil servant Martin Astrom. I was drawn to the building by the Climate Change sign and just simply walked in and asked for information. It was a total fluke that they let us all in. What we learned from the conversation, some notes:

The Danish Commission’s current priorities are the following in order: 1. Climate Change (COP15) 2. Lisbon Treaty 3. Employment issues 4. Education (secondary level). The Danish Commission’s responsibility is to help adapt, integrate and amplify, to the national and municipal governments and their citizens, the legislations and objectives of the EU, and filter Brussels’ messages to fit the preferences of locals. The Commission’s national offices are crucial because they can mitigate the amount of EU publicity going on and help educate their constituents about EU actions and restrictions. Martin implied though that they need to limit the amount of press the EU receives for fear of having people “turn off the TV” on them, both literally and figuratively. Martin also noted that working for the Commission in Brussels was much easier than in Denmark because in Brussels he had strength in numbers, whereas away from the capitol more opposition and ignorance exists. Martin feels as though the “EU needs to provide itself to Danes…it needs to deliver…needs to approach EU from a pragmatic point of view”, implying that The Commission in Denmark needs to work to frame its objectives in an advantageous forum, to therefore stimulate understanding, desire and hopefully appreciation from the local Danes. In regards to the COP 15 he stated that in Denmark wind turbines are the big hit on the renewable market, specifically Vestas. He also alluded to the fact that Germany was the biggest turbine market. He commented that business in Denmark is adaptable to policy. For COP15 he clarified what exactly was occurring in the city and in preparation for the historical conference. He explained that the Swedish prime minister would speak for the EU voting bloc, the Commission would negotiate the legislation, and the Danes were the hosts.

From Martin’s highly valuable information discussion we sprinted, especially to Josh’s belt’s dismay, to catch our frigid and windy canal tour, in which we just veg-ed out in the back of the boat, eating the fruit, Pringles, carrots we brought, and unable to hear anything blaring from the dismal speakers. Luckily, a Danish woman sat in front of us and she explained what we were seeing. Once over, and thankfully so because icicles might have been forming around our bodies, we serendipitously found in the center of Nytorv Kongens the European Environment Agency (EEA) and the UN Climate Change Conference’s (UNCCC) joint event on educating people on Climate Change and the topics discussed at the upcoming COP15. It was strictly by chance that I found my ‘green’ people. I was attracted by a giant poster above the door and a circus-like dressed woman handed me a brochure without hesitation saying that environmental topics and exhibits were inside, along with free food! I knew everyone would be happy.

The Climate Circus event, hosted in the facilities of the EEA turned out to be far better than anything I could’ve imagined. Also a real career booster in terms of education. We strolled around the event for a few minutes, scoping out the different exhibits, and asking various logistical questions, mine being “Are there any environmental economists here?” Before sitting down with the “experts” around 7:30 PM, (“experts” = EEA employees who specialize in certain topics (eg chemistry) but are well versed on issues on and related to climate change) we then followed are noses to the basement for a sporf (spoon-fork-knife all in one utensil) oriented meal of organic soup, fruits, bread and cake. Nothing better than a hot, healthy and filling all-you-can-eat-buffet meal that cost absolutely nothing. And especially after the frigid canal tour a warm meal really hit the spot. Fully satiated, and away from two random old-school Israelis that Josh was networking with, the four of us sat down with ‘expert’ climatologist Francois Dejean, a chemist by trade. The four of us gathered around with our comfortable chairs to discuss everything. Because Josh, Eli and Mike had been hearing me preach all weekend they were well versed on the topic and contributed a slew of valuable questions. As the conversation deepened and Francois and his some of colleagues who came by, and I, began talking specifics on all related topics to climate change multiple camera people and video recorders began documenting the occurrences taking place in our little group. All four of us guys began to get some serious press. Midway through, Mike, Josh and Eli left to nap up for our night out, but I couldn’t leave until I was all talked out – a total cloud 9 experience. After an interview with the filmmaker, some contact info exchanging and some souvenir collecting, which included free annual reports and an official EEA expert collared shirt, I metroed bak denating the night thus far a highly spirited, educational, and enjoyable night of climate discussion.

At the hotel, I found the guys asleep. Remember we hadn’t gotten any sleep except a few hours max in our train chairs that night. Still energized to see the city, Josh, the usual biggest fan of going out, and I, put it in overdrive and trekked back into the city. The main objective for returning to the city was because we had found out that night that this night in Copenhagen was the once a year Culture Night, where museum, exhibits, stores and parks remain open until late, and everyone in the city celebrates Danish culture. We strolled aimlessly following the crowds passing by massive drum circles, back alley bands and orchestras, various dance performances, herds of button wearing museum enthusiasts, and of course local Danes of all ages, races and religions. Some highlights were certainly the army barracks’ tank, jeep and supplies experience, where we could actually enter into all of these vehicles, the roasted pig on the stake, the 30 person group drum session and our cheap margarita pizza. By now it was almost 11 and we decided that it was time to pack it in. I couldn’t have asked for a better day and a better time to come to Copenhagen. Missing the sleeper car, running after a train, a mission with the commission, a climate change event and culture night. But it got better.

Because Friday we only did one major touristy thing, Saturday became the day to “do the city”. In the morning I went to synagogue at the Copenhagen Synagogue on 12 Krystalgade street and the guys went to two museums, the Guinness Book of World Records and the Danish Resistance Museums. By now I have become very good at finding these hidden European synagogues. The trick is to look for very pedestrian Jewish appearing people standing unusually along the street, usually near official city policemen or security guards. After navigating the interrogation, I entered the remarkable rectangular shaped sanctuary. It was two stories; with Corinthian pillars lining the sides – obviously women on the top floor. The bima (stage) and ark were among the grandest and biggest I have ever seen. Apparently the Jewish synagogue received minimal WWII damage.

Before meeting back up around 12:30 PM at the Rosenborg Castle, I walked with a congregant and his son through the central square to view a Palestinian protest. It was interesting to see such a protest in Europe. I held my tongue because I had a deadline to meet. Rosenborg Castle was gallant, with jewels, crowns, paintings and tapestries. Each room had something somewhat unusual but unique about it. It is becoming the case that most castles look pretty similar. After some lunch we took a 3 PM Chistianborg English tour. The palace enforced its visitors to wear blue plastic shoe covers, in which Mike and I decided it would be best to also place the covers on our heads. Between our comical but educational questions to our young, relatively attractive, and very enthusiastic tour guide, and of course the blue nylon covers awkwardly positioned on our heads, the other party in our group, a father and son, decided to leave - so we had a private tour. We learned, and joked the whole way. So much fun! Just to note, apparently the massive table was at one point a S______, not a “stage”, but a staircase.

From Christianborg we walked back to Nytorv Kongens, through Camp Sweden (will explain in a second), and metroed to Christiana, the ultra hippy, very sleazy, and most liberal and un-institutional area of Denmark. Completely unintentionally we ended up not only taking pictures of all of the graffiti and often unseen activities, but on the drug-filled Pusher street. After getting away from the drug dealers on Pusher, and after some winter clothing window shopping, a few purchases, and some more cautious strolling we decided it would be best to leave prior to dusk and return to our hotel to organize ourselves and prepare for the night ahead, but nothing could prepare us for what was to experience. NOTHING!

Saturday night, at 8 PM, at the Parken (local stadium), Denmark’s national team was hosting Sweden’s national team. For the Danish, a victory over the Swedes would enable them to qualify for the 2010 South Africa World Cup. This match between the two neighboring and healthily oppositional countries only occurs once a year, and to this magnitude because it was a South Africa qualifier match, made experiencing this the matchup in Copenhagen a once in a lifetime experience. Naturally, as European football (which means soccer) fans stereotypically are renowned for, they mobbed the streets, demonstrated their colors in any way possible, and of course drank heavily. Much of the events started in various camps stationed throughout the city, like Camp Sweden, which was a central city green space consumed by Swedish fans. Eager to join in on the event, and directly experience the atmosphere of Euro football matches, we rushed through a terrible dinner at Sam’s Karaoke Bar, while simultaneously being forced to sadly hear 3 Danish karaoke songs sung by a blind man. Never seen a blind man do karaoke before. Afterwards, we sped down the Stroget (Ostergade) to the city hall center square where we were thought there would be a screen displaying the football match. No screen was there, which we soon found out later was because they wanted to prevent riots – not so lucky. First we ended up at a pub down the street standing outside watching the game with a group of people. About ten minutes in 3 Danish appearing guys surrounded me and the two kids in front of me and began provoking us to fight them. I said no, and started to walk away with Eli, but two of them followed me and one pushed me. After a slight imbalanced pose, I square my shoulders, stared him in the eyes and said “I do not want to fight.” And that was it. I am not sure why he backed away but I think he got it. I was ready to use my Krav Maga training and potential fighting crazy eyes to defend myself, but I realized later that it was so good that I didn’t fight. It is my belief that because I was wearing a dark sock hat, a nylon coat and white sneakers, and looked un-Danish, that I possibly was thought to be a Sweden supporter, and it’s important to note that hooligans don’t really watch the game I learned, rather they just want to defend their country, flaunt their colors and fight anyone.

After the altercation we were all a little confused, especially me. I couldn’t grasp this whole fighting concept. Up the street we situated ourselves outside another pub on a few chairs surrounded by all Swedish fans. At halftime, around 9:30 PM, the Swedish hooligans came out from the pub and into the street to cheer and taunt any passerby Danish fans. They yelled, “Where are the Danes” trying to lure in random Danish hooligans to rumble with. Around 9:45 PM, as the game’s second half commenced, apparently some Danish fans threw a glass bottle into the bar of Swedish hooligans. Immediately after hearing the glass break and watching a few people, including Josh, get up and sprint up the street, I immediately jumped up, and dashed away, tearing off my jacket and hat for fear that I would be suspected of looking like a hooligan as well. Eli and Mike soon followed, and just barely made it. We were warned by some Swedish fans earlier that there would be a massive fight in the street in a little bit but we had no idea to what extent and that it would be during the game as well! From our hideout 20 meters up the road and behind police tape and scattered vans, we witnessed the riot guards combat the Danish and Swedish hooligans. Glasses, chairs and tables, including the ones we were sitting on were used as weapons. The police was on the scene almost immediately because undercover cops had been stationed in our crowd and various cameras lined the street’s corners. By five minutes into the riot at least 8 vans must have blocked the street on both sides of the pub and the attack dogs were on the prowl. It was so scary and surreal. By the end of the night, the massive Danish police had arrested at least 50 people; many of them appeared around age. We were very lucky to not have gone and that we were able to escape just in time. What a scene. Our first every European football experience – very real!

While the police took control of the scene and loaded up the dozens of prisoners into their vans headed for jail, Josh found two girls from Gettysburg College and a series of America abroad, DIS program, friends. The new founded group of American students finished off the night at the La Hacienda club and bar. The night was a true success. Overall, Saturday, was just as crazy as Friday. Enjoyable sight-seeing, a crazy blue-shoe-cover-wearing-castle-tour, a fearful experience at the sleazy Christiana, near death experiences from Danish and Swedish hooligans and a fun night out. Total out of body!

Sunday, after checking out of the hotel, we galvanized at the train station and locked up our luggage for we were traveling to Malmo, Sweden for the day. Country number 11! Although overcast and drizzly, Malmo was a beautiful and integrated little Swedish city with a beautiful, old and modern center city, tons of shopping and very laid back people – I never saw so many articles of sweatpants in one European city since I arrived in August. For the duration of visit, our city highlights and viewings entailed: Canal strolling, St. Peter’s Church, Town Hall, Strortorget city center, the mall, Malmo Opera House, Malmohus park, Slottstradgarden, which is the smallest and coziest organic garden café in the city and where we got hot chocolate and dessert, Malmuhus castle and museum, and the Turning Turso – in that order. Of course we did some window searching because ideally, you buy all of your winter clothing in Sweden, because they are the specialists. Although the street cobblestones were slippery and the weather eh, and the shlep on the train to and from the city was tiring, Malmo, overall was gorgeous, relaxing, for the most part, and an excellent decision to see. Around 4:45 PM we made the train back to Copenhagen (they run every 20 minutes).

For our last hour in Copenhagen Eli, Mike and I enjoyed Tivoli Gardens’ once a year Halloween lights. Again, what better weekend to come to Copenhagen?! The three of us took millions of pictures with various hat, facial expression, and costume combinations. We also took pictures with random people, like the big purple fairy tailed costume woman, a group of random South East Asians, and in Mike’s case, a random little boy – not exactly what it implies. The lights at Tivoli were so memorable. It was amazing how they could cover everything with autumn colored tinges. Once satisfied with Tivoli, but moreso knowing our 6:53 train deadline neared, around 6:30 PM we chose to collect our luggage and board the train. Eli and I got the two top couchettes in a six person sleeper cabin, while Josh and Mike opted for seats. The train back for Eli and I was truly a man’s adventure as well. Thankfully, we arrived back at Maastricht some 15 hours later at 10 AM, which gave me just enough time to prepare for my Climate Change presentation for my tutorial class at 1:30 that afternoon.

Copenhagen overall was by far the city with the nicest people, except of course the hooligans. It also has the cleanest and safest metro system. It is so progressive with its environmental policies, and very liberal with many other social concepts, except taxes. It felt pretty safe at night, and was so much fun at all hours of the day. It got cold as the day’s sun leveled but nothing unmanageable, yet. This weekend was by far my most ADVENTUROUS and enjoyable weekend. This permutation of guys created an environment where I had never laughed nor enjoyed as many out of body experiences in my life. I think Copenhagen was my most fun weekend yet! Returning to Copenhagen again for sure!