Milestone

I'm not normally one for noting milestones in life but this one seems to be approaching like a meteor hurtling towards an unsuspecting planet, appearing to hover in space just out of eye-sight but in reality travelling at a highly destructive speed of over 70km a second. Perhaps running along similar destructive lines, I also feel a bit like the guard at Castle Hemorrhage watching the approach of Sir Lancelot. The rather silly knight is of course representing the milestone, but with exagerrated ridiculousness. Anyhow, I turn 30 next Thursday and I'm feeling very nervoushappysadunsurecakeexcited, which I'm sure you can relate to if you have got here already.

Almost being 30 has suddently kick started a part of my brain that I didn't know existed, I started analysing the past whilst assessing the future and worrying about the present. Previously I had been analysing my hangovers, assessing girls and not-worrying about my bank balance. Times they are a-changin'.

I have been living in Germany for two and a half years and have been questioning the move the whole time. This is not a wise thing to be doing and I should know because I just over a week away from obtaining the first part of my qualifications in being wiser than other people. I spent most of the first year working in an Irish pub and generally having a whale of a time, but I was constantly sad that I did not have enough resources to persue my first love of international travel. I resolved that particular problem by getting a 'normal' job and earning enough to buy lovely, convenient, carbon-emitting flights to cities I had never been to before. I took a long-awaited three week break in September of 2011 and travelled to Canadia & the United S of A, then promptly spent the subsequent few months in a state of depression after having such a mind-blowingly great time.

Aside from the sheer friendliness I encountered between Ontario and Wyoming I relished actually speaking English again. You guys have no idea how great that language is until it's taken away from you. You can happily get by speaking English in Germany but you will not be able to use fun words like 'pompous' or expect to be understood when you give driving directions such as 'hang a left here'. You certainly can't tell jokes like "The televisions in Dubai don't show the Flintstones, but the televisions in Abu Dhabi do". Being in an English speaking country again felt like a tidal wave of relief, I was able to talk to people without worrying if I was being understood and I could speak my mind clearly without having to select the correct grammatical terms and put them in the right places whilst trying to remember the pronounciation. I did, however, have a slight problem in Kentucky...

A pretty sophomore girl leans in towards me and says, "Your accent is a complete penny-dropper". I replied with a genuinely grateful "Wow, thank you" before walking over to my friend Stewie and asking "Ummm... what's a penny-dropper?"
"Panties... she said Panty-dropper"
"Oh, great!" I said pretty quietly, not wanting a mass underwear falling-down party at that moment.

We'll see what 2012 brings eh. Onwards and upwards!

Commute

I got lost in the forest on the way to work this morning, there is not even a forest on my route. This made the top three of my favourite commutes.

It wanna go down

Imagine waking up and writing Fergie's "London Bridge" every morning, that's about the level of creativity I'm experiencing at the moment.

Pain

The sound of the boiling water in the kettle puts a smile on my face. Soon I'll be sipping from a piping hot cup of tea, sitting in a comfortable chair and letting the events of the day drift away. I slowly drink the refreshing beverage and rise up from the chair, tightly clutching the mug in both hands so the radiating heat warms my skin. I saunter over to the window, lightly running my fingers through a plant which sits there, freshly watered and almost beaming with happiness. Out of the window I gaze, the street bustles below and the neighbours are sitting down for an early evening meal. This is relaxing.

Or at least it would be relaxing if I didn't have a broken ankle. My fantasy is shattered, I struggle to maintain balance as I pour the boiling water in and around the mug, scalding my left hand as I do so. The kettle slams down on the worktop and in the same movement my right hand swings across and grabs the pre-opened milk. Milk swishes around in the way that milk only knows how and spurts from the top of the carton. My hand steadies and hastily pours the milk into the cup before I lose my balance for a second time. The cup of tea is sitting there in all it's glory. With glee I grab the hot mug and hop, hop, hop into the living room. With each hop tea splashes everywhere, over the floor, the walls and my jeans, but mostly all over the floor. I curse gravity. I continue to hop to the couch, summoning all power of balance in order to avoid the dry, prickly plant that hasn't been fed in weeks. As carefully as possible I rest my derrière on the couch and catch my breath. Looking down at the cup I see that about a quarter of the tea remains, I take one big swig and it's gone. I sit for a couple of minutes, wondering what's happening outside as all I can see from the couch is the sky.

A broken ankle. It is a very inconvenient. Especially since I had only just recovered from a torn tendon in my ankle, ripped 6 months previously. Especially because I'd only recovered from a badly bruised rib 3 months before that. Perhaps it's also made more inconvenient as I'd only recovered from a broken collar bone sustained 5 months before that.

Before living in Germany I had never received a serious injury in my life (Aside from a few scars involving angry cats, barbed-wire fences, falling out of trees and off skateboards). I've lived in Germany for 17 months. I have spent many of those in pain and trying to look cool as the nurse takes another x-ray. I'm not blaming Germany entirely, I have only had a girlfriend for 24 months. I had never injured myself before meeting her either. It's got to be one of those things causing all these injuries.

Collar Bone. Ouch.

But then again it could be that I have, for the first time since I was 17, been playing rugby again.

Thoughts on..

... Living in a country where your native language is not spoken.

I arrived in Germany with no real expectations of what life without English would be like. I'd visited here enough times to know how to say "Hello" (Hallo) and ask for basic things like a pen (Stift) or a Guinea Pig (Meerschweinchen) and I knew how to sqeeze past someone in a crowded pub (Entschuldigung). I had visions of initially struggling in places such as the supermarkets or cafés and slowly building my vocabulary until I was comfortable enought to ask questions such as "Are you sure that's the right amount on the bill?" or play the supermarket guessing game with the cashier "I guess that this bill is going to cost 53.66 Euros, how much do you think it'll cost?".

As time dragged on however, I realised that this was going to be really hard. I tried to learn the language on my own and was confused by the word order, the difficult pronounciations and the complex grammar tables. Deciding that I needed help, I asked my girlfriend to teach me. The word order was still alien, hearing the correct pronounciation of words made me feel worse about my own way of saying them and the grammar tables were still too complex. I realised that this was going to be a complete uphill struggle, being a lazy English speaker and all that.

English will get you everywhere. Germans are taught English in school to a certain level and if you are visiting the country they will be more than happy to practice their English on you, they will even go to the point of apologising because they can't speak the language better. I have repeatedly had to point out that I am in their country, I should be speaking German. Of course I secretly hate it when that happens because the conversations usually go like this:-

Curly: Uuuuhh... Ich brauche ein Stift. (I need a pen)
German: Was? (What?)
Curly: Ja, und ein Meerschweinchen. (Yes, and a Guinea Pig)
German: Tschuss. (Bye)


Over a year and only a few weeks of German lessons later, I'm still struggling. I can now mumble "Thanks" in the supermarket and I can order beer in the pub but when it comes to doing anything else such as going to get a haircut, rent a movie or have an arguement with someone, it all falls apart and can be incredibly frustrating. When your power to express your opinion or will is taken away from you it can be one of the most demoralising experiences. There were days that I avoided buying food when I was hungry because I didn't know how to ask for it, I need my girlfriend to accompany me to the hairdresser or to the bank because I just cannot get my point across without her to translate. From being a completely independent person in the UK to suddenly having to rely on other people so much has been a kick in the balls and it will continue to ache for a while to come.

Dogged

I have just discovered the most amazing thing. This dog, Anastasia the Jack Russell, holds the record for the bursting of 100 balloons by a dog in a time of 44.49 seconds. I wonder what the regulations are? Must the balloons be a certain size? Are we allowed to sharpen the dogs teeth before hand? Perhaps we could even breed a new type of dog and make this a competetive sport.