The One Blawg to Rule Them All

Well, here it is. This is going to be my final blawg post on here most likely. At some point, I will upload an epilogue of "picture blawg posts" of my trips to Barcelona, Delft, Antwerp, and The Hague. I don't feel that anything I write this far out can add meaningfully to the experiences as memorialized in my photos. It's kind of unfortunate, because Barcelona was by far my favorite trip - however, I took LOTS of pictures.

I promised myself that I would use this last blawg post as a public service - to help potential 'exchangers' decide whether an exchange program (or study abroad more generally) is worth their time and money. My answer is too nuanced to say yes or no - as I will explain, I feel that there are certain people in certain situations who should probably not go abroad and those who definitely should (and those in between). Where appropriate, I have drawn out specific examples from my various study abroad experiences, and have tried to differentiate between shorter-term stays and semester/year-long exchanges. I try to discuss exchanges and study abroad programs generally when I can, rather than limiting the discussion to my Erasmus trip - however, this is mostly about my Erasmus trip... I have tried to structure this by starting with a "Things to Consider" section then moving to the "certain people, certain situations" schema.

Things to Consider

Money
I can't pretend like this doesn't matter. I have the good fortune of having supportive parents who have subsidized my study abroad addiction (this was my third trip abroad for study purposes). Some of the costs are relatively minor, or at least should not otherwise preclude a trip. I refer here mainly to fees associated with acquiring a residence permit (if you're doing an exchange). There is, of course, the cost of your flight - which depends on where you're going. My flight was approximately $1200 roundtrip. That's what you can more or less expect for a trip to Europe on average. Tuition, at least in the case of my trips, matched the rate at my home university (for Erasmus, I paid FSU my tuition money at the normal rate). Programs that are not associated with your home university will complicate matters, and you'll probably end up paying more than you should. For this reason, I suggest as a general rule sticking with programs offered at your home university. Unless you're going on a very structured, abbreviated study abroad trip (as in my Munich Thanksgiving Break trip), expect the biggest unanticipated expense to be discretionary travel. I haven't added up the total cost of my trips during the exchange, but between the travel itself (plane, train, bus, etc.), hotel/hostel stays, travel at the location, souvenirs, and the added price of eating and drinking out for every meal on a trip, your full travel expenses over the course of a semester will likely get into the thousands (if you're actually making good use of your time abroad). Lastly, unless your program includes housing as part of the tuition, you will have to pay for that as well. My housing in Rotterdam ran at 540 euros/month (~$730/month) all inclusive. That's very similar (actually less than) what I was paying overall in Tallahassee for a 1B/1BR (though in Rotterdam, I 'functionally' shared the apartment with 3 other people - more on that later).             
  
Time and Effort 
I have to admit, procuring a residence permit from the Netherlands was one of the most frustrating experiences I can remember. I had to retake my visa photo four times before the Dutch authorities approved it. Also, there was a palpable lack of communication between FSU and Erasmus, which complicated the process. This problem became particularly pronounced in figuring out whether both sides had the paperwork they needed to move forward. The lack of communication also nearly made me rescind my application early on, when it was unclear what courses I could take (Why would I go abroad to take something like Law and Economics? More on that thought later). It took a number of back and forth emails to figure out how many courses I had to take, which ones were available, what qualified as an equivalent course for FSU purposes. I should specify here that my complaints do not relate to FSU law school's procedures; my hassle was always with main-campus FSU and Erasmus's international offices. To be fair, as far as I can tell, some of the problems relate to the ill-timed staff turnover in these offices. However, bridging the communication gap sapped a lot of energy out of me. Of course, another source of time and effort is the application process itself.    

Living abroad 
I imagine this is a matter for debate. Some love it; some hate it; I'm somewhere in between, closer to the love it side. Living abroad has its advantages and disadvantages. First, homesickness. No way around it - this sucks. There were times when I just wanted to hop on a plane and go back to South Florida to be with my wife. (Disclaimer: the rest of my thoughts here apply to Western Europe, since it is the only geographical location in which I've lived abroad.) With regard to the Netherlands, the biggest difference in my mind is transportation. In the United States, travel occurs primarily by car. In the Netherlands, unless you're an obstinate person like me and walk everywhere, people get around by bike or public transportation (tram or subway). If you read any given post on my blawg, you know how I feel about bikes. Easy public transportation intra-city translates to easy inter-city travel. Buses, trains, and low-cost airlines will get you from A to B for pretty cheap rates. I am a stereotypically-cheap Jew (let's say frugal), and took the cheapest options within reason. This meant 12 hour bus rides each way for London and Berlin, but those tickets were under $100. A train ticket to Amsterdam from Rotterdam cost 15 euros each way. My most expensive trip (Barcelona) was under $250 roundtrip by plane. Aside from travel, lifestyle differences are bound to surprise you (in a good or bad way). For example, the Dutch only work 4 days of the week on average. This leads stores and restaurants to have strange schedules, like one store being closed on Tuesdays and the one next to it being closed on Fridays. Moreover, stores in the Netherlands close quite early in general. Going out after 6pm is basically a crapshoot. The Dutch also seem to eat out for an inordinately large amount of meals. In addition, living arrangements themselves can be a hassle. I had a dispute with my landlord over who had to bear the cost of a major plumbing repair (hint: I was subletting the room; I'm a law student, and he's a dirtbag landlord) that resulted in him threatening to kick me out. I also lived the last two weeks (the exact time I was trying to write on to Law Review) WITHOUT HEAT IN NORTHERN EUROPE IN DECEMBER. While I lucked out with friendly and overall pleasant roommates (I had minor misgivings about cleanliness and noise levels at times, but hey, who hasn't at some point), it is almost impossible to anticipate if your roommate will be Mother Teresa or Amanda Knox. One of the pitfalls of living abroad has to be that you are very limited in your ability to be picky, whether regarding roommate, location, overall acceptability of the place, etc. This can come from lack of local knowledge, no local contacts, financial constraints, few avenues for communication - and on that note, clearly another thing to consider is language. I lucked out since the Dutch are in the top 3 globally of non-native English fluency (many spoke it better than people I know in the States...). However, if you want to go someplace where you cannot speak the language at all, even if the courses are taught in English, you need to factor this into your decision. Lastly, time differences make communication with friends and family in the States very difficult. Skype is your friend. But your sleeping patterns will likely take a hit.            

Learning abrad
Without a doubt, this depends on the program you choose. I've run the gamut on this. My Munich trip was entirely tour-based, with my UF professor leading us from place to place as our learning environment. My Brussels trip was taught in part by my UF professor and in part by a local professor. My Erasmus exchange was entirely taught by host-university professors. The bigger concern for you should be teaching style. This mattered to a surprising extent for Erasmus. In American law school, it is atypical to do anything for class other than read the day's assignment and take a test at the end of the semester. Classes are generally held twice a week in ~75 minute blocks. At Erasmus, the method is less clear. Some classes had one final written exam; some had oral exams; some had a final paper; some had a mix. Non-exam assignments were much more typical at Erasmus. For example, I had to do a "moot court" and legal memo assignment for my EU Internal Market Law class. It took a little bit of adjusting for this "problem solving," interactive approach. Some classes also tacked on "seminars" to supplement the lectures. This generally meant an extra day of class for that week (the typical pattern was 8 lectures, 3 seminars). On that note, Erasmus did not run on a semester system, but rather split each semester into two distinct "blocks." On the plus side: more subject area coverage, less overall class time (especially important when you don't like a professor very much). The downside: you don't get very in-depth with the material, everything moves very quickly, almost no correlation with the work your American counterparts are doing, double the textbooks (which luckily are cheaper than those used in US law classes), and double the final exams. This last part was a BFD (in the words of Joe Biden). I received a subciting assignment from a journal during my first set of final exams in early November (luckily, the editors were willing to accommodate me, but this ended up leading to a double-size assignment for the second round of edits). The second set of final exams happened two weeks into my spring semester! I still can't believe this was the "December arrangement" I was promised at the beginning of the program. Sure, I could take my exams remotely, but I had to do so after a month away from the material and after two weeks worth of new material. That's not even accounting for the shit-storm that was writing on to Law Review, doing the initial Law Review work, moving into a new apartment, and just generally trying to keep up with reading for my classes while prepping for exams. Unrelated point: don't try to finesse work experience or an internship while on an exchange. Just don't. I was accepted for an internship, but that opportunity fell through because of the work permit issue. However, I am so happy I didn't have to deal with the hectic schedule that inevitably comes from working and learning abroad simultaneously. You should use your non-school time to HAVE FUN. Lastly, did I mention that (at least for FSU's exchange programs) your grades don't transfer, the grading is completely pass/fail, and you only walk away with 12 credit hours towards the law degree? (A separate, specific complaint about Erasmus: most classrooms don't have power outlets, so if you end up with multiple classes on a given day and intend to use your computer, you will need to search for an outlet elsewhere.)            

Opportunity costs 
I feel like this is the most under-discussed category of considerations when deciding whether to study abroad, and you need to internalize these opportunity costs as best you can before you abandon them by going on exchange. I know that I didn't; I don't think I would have opted not to go abroad, but the opportunity costs definitely make it a closer call. For example, if you go in the fall, you will need to wait until next fall to take classes that are only offered during the fall semester. This seems obvious enough, but because I missed the chance to take Immigration Law this past fall, I am going into my summer internship at the Immigration Court without that substantive background. Though I took 12 credits of amazing coursework on international and EU law at Erasmus, the lighter course load put me slightly behind the credit-hour average required to graduate (which I am making up with higher credit-hour semesters going forward). Moreover, since you're taking classes that will not be Bar-tested, you may have to counterbalance your semester of interesting, relaxed classes with a semester of boring-yet-necessary Bar-related topics. I also missed the international law moot court tryouts, which kind of sucks. Perhaps the biggest impact is being knocked out of the groove you hopefully got into during your first year. You'll be learning in a completely foreign system (in multiple ways), and those efficiencies you developed over the course of a year will be thrown somewhat into disarray. Point being: make sure you're not going to miss something you will forever regret. If it really is that big of a deal to you, I don't see how you can justify passing that up, despite the amazing experience you would have abroad.  

Certain People, Certain Situations

1) You have a strong passion for international issues/law.
Unless you feel that one of the "things to consider" is prohibitive for whatever reason (such as lack of financial resources, overly high opportunity costs, specific language issues, etc.), go abroad.

2) You want to take classes that are not offered at your home school.
This is a strong reason militating in favor of going abroad. However, two things to remember: 1) your grades won't transfer (and relatedly, your transcript will not reflect course titles; almost everything will be listed as "Special Topics"), and 2) your willingness to study hard in a foreign environment can be substantially diminished by the desire to travel and experience the culture. As much as I loved learning about international and EU law, my will to "hit the books" was surprisingly low because I kept thinking about where to travel next or what "Dutch" thing to do with my time that I couldn't do in the States.

3) You want to work abroad, now or after school. 
Pretty strong case to make for going on exchange here. You never know who you will meet. Since the law degree in Europe is an LLB (achieved at the bachelor level), you will have peers who are technically "lawyers." They might have connections, and even if they don't, they know where to look. Especially if you like public international law, the vast majority of work in that field is happening outside of the United States (you want to be in Brussels, The Hague, Geneva, etc).

4) You have a lot of disposable income.
Hey, why not? You can easily turn an exchange program into a semester-long vacation with minimal academic effort. I actually don't see a massive problem with this. Absorbing the culture, meeting new people, and experiencing life in a foreign place represent some of the most important reasons to go abroad. If you have enough money to do that with even the most minimal commitment to academics to distinguish the trip from a treatise on international hedonism, more power to you. Just don't spend all that money doing something you really don't want to do. By the way, donate to charity, you filthy animal.

5) You're lukewarm about anything 'international' but you kinda sorta like traveling.
As Robin Thicke would say, "I hate these blurred lines/I know you want it." This is a fuzzy category. If you have an "eh" level desire to travel and don't have particular interest in international affairs or life abroad, it's hard to see why you'd go. As I've been arguing, the program essentially has two components: 1) academic and 2) life abroad. If you aren't gung ho about learning the law you can only learn abroad, and you're not even that enthusiastic about spending four months traveling Europe, I have a hard time giving you the thumbs up here. However, studying abroad can easily "tip the scales" in favor of a more international life down the road. This is really a balance for you to weigh personally.

6) You really could care less about school and just want to travel. 
See category 4... You can't get away with completely blowing off school, but even a baseline expectation of learning something and interacting with foreign peers makes the exchange different from traveling.

7) You have no interest in international affairs, traveling, etc. 
Do you even need to ask? If you see the exchange as checking a box that says "not what I'm doing now," first - what are you doing in law school (or your program)? Second, why would you use so much time, effort, and resources to go abroad?

8) You think going abroad would be a cool thing to have on your resume. 
Don't go. Sure, it's a nice talking point. But you are spending four months of your life in a foreign nation and spending a substantial amount of money (if you're doing it right). You should have a better reason than "It'd be nice to have a single line of my resume say 'Exchange Program' to really bump up how interesting my life outwardly seems."

9) You already have a job (and career) lined up domestically, and you're absolutely certain it's what you want to do with your life. 
Just go on a vacation instead. The initial 'transaction costs' alone for preparing to go abroad would probably discourage you enough from applying anyway. However, the farther you get from certainty about what you want to do with your life, the more I suggest looking into the program.

10) You're low on income but you really do want to go abroad for various reasons.
Find a way to make it work. There are ways to make it work. I received a scholarship from FSU, and while it was unrelated to the specific act of going abroad, I used that money to cushion the blow of my travel expenses. There are myriad opportunities for funding, whether through the school generally, specific programs at a school, outside organizations, or friends and family. 

11) I just got married, and basically ditched my wife to go abroad, but I really like EU and international law, so...yea...
Too soon...

I inevitably left things out. Please comment and ask me to discuss something if I have neglected to address it so far. I will update this post whenever other thoughts pop into my head.

Today's Dutch lesson: eind ("the end").

Thanks for reading.

   

The Jelly Donut

Talk about a hefty delay. I went to Berlin two months ago, and I'm finally getting around to writing about it. No use dwelling on the past I suppose...except to actually bang out this blawg. Since I'm so far out from the trip and can't remember every single minor detail, I've decided to discuss Berlin in a structured, itemized way.

Day 1

Bus
My Berlin journey began with a first for me: the night bus. It wasn't quite as disastrous as the London bus, but it was not at all comfortable. The bus left Rotterdam around dinnertime and seemed like a never-ending experience. When you take the night bus, you implicitly agree to turn a bus seat into a bed. If you enjoy the sensation of a concrete mattress that is folded into an L shape and padded with the density of .4 cotton balls, you will love "sleeping" on the bus. I already have an impossible time falling asleep in moving vehicles, so staying awake the entire night was my fate. I also had the good fortune of sitting in a window seat next to a person with exceptionally-large thighs and behind some guy who figured out how to recline his seat basically into my lap, i.e. I couldn't even stretch the tiniest bit in my seat. This made the midnight passport check in freezing temperatures seem like a refreshing spa appointment. Moreover, though the bus had an ETA of 7am, the driver managed to arrive around 5:15am. Although having more time in a new city sounds good in theory, this meant wandering around the dark streets of Berlin with two bags trying to figure out how to get to a metro stop. (Being a wandering Jew in the middle of Berlin doesn't sound like an ideal situation...) I eventually found one, bought a 3-day Berlin city pass, and took it to the stop I wrote down on my Google maps printout. After more wandering around dark back alleyways, I found the hostel and dropped off my bags.

East Side Gallery (Berlin Wall)
No trip to Berlin would be complete without a walk along the Berlin Wall/East Side Gallery. It's a fantastic blend of history and art. What was once a dividing line between East and West Berlin is now a showcase of artwork that ranges from abstract psychedelia to high-end graffiti. Nothing much to say here other than it makes for a great stroll, and in my case a great introduction to this great city. 

Checkpoint Charlie
Kind of disappointing and almost kitschy. While I'm sure it once served an important strategic mission, it now marks a very touristy area filled with souvenir shops, overpriced museum exhibitions, and bad restaurants. The checkpoint itself looks like a glorified tree-house with a Google Images printout of a solider on top. Still cool to see the "You are now leaving the American sector" sign in person.

German Jewish Museum
I knew to expect a different kind of museum experience here, because I had learned a little bit about architect Daniel Libeskind (currently leading the WTC reconstruction in NYC) in my Representations of Nazism class back at UF. Libeskind is known for using interpretive, postmodern styles in his work, and the Jewish Museum certainly fit the bill. For example, one room has a single point of natural light in the ceiling but the rest of the room is pitch black. Another area is filled with nothing but massive rectangular stone columns. My favorite part was a room where the "floor" is covered in individual metal face pieces that make a loud clink noise when you step. Libeskind also built "memory voids" throughout the museum: angular cut-outs of the wall that (from what I recall from class) represent the void of Jews during certain parts of German history. Beyond the more "artsy" parts, one of the floors of the museum looks more like a typical museum, with chronological exhibits on Jews throughout German history. The museum does a great job of telling its story through cultural artifacts rather than throw information at you. Unfortunately, one of those artifacts was a yarmulke emblazoned with the cast of Friends. That's a part of Jewish history better left forgotten...


Topography of Terror
After the Jewish Museum, it seemed logical to go learn more about how Nazi Germany built some serious voids into that museum. The Topography of Terror, unlike as the name implies, does not have to do with terrifying geographical features. It does sound like a good name for a horror movie, maybe with a monster made of dirt and rocks that salutes Hitler. Also, driving on tall cliffs can be kind of frightening. Alas, Topography of Terror is (at least on the surface) associated with none of that. It serves as a Holocaust documentation center, built on the site of the Gestapo and SS headquarters. It houses a VERY comprehensive collection of letters, pictures, maps, propaganda, etc. Outside of the documentation center itself, there is a trench filled with an exhibition describing the rise of Nazism. This is not the kind of place to casually visit in your lederhosen with a little time to German-efficiently waste; this place has a historian's eye (figuratively, not literally, as far as I know...) and challenges you to actually learn during your visit.

 
Holocaust Memorial
Changing the pace, I went over to the Holocaust Memorial site. This memorial took a page from the Libeskind approach and symbolized the Holocaust as 2700 concrete slabs of varying heights on a sloped area. I'm still not sure how I feel about it. It definitely has a cemetery vibe. It combines all of the not-having-to-read-words that I look for when perusing gigantic blocks, but at the same time it is supposed to make one think of mass murder. Instead, those giant slabs of concrete mostly made me think of other block-related things, like Tetris, Legos, and parental internet controls. 

Reichstag
Didn't go in, but it is quite lovely on the outside! However, I did eat a delicious serving of street-food currywurst nearby...

Brandenburg Gate
I really enjoyed just standing under or near the Brandenburg Gate. It's so iconic that it really reminded me that I was in the middle of a special journey abroad and so fortunate to simply be there. Staring at Big Ben in London, the Eiffel Tower in Paris, or the Colosseum in Rome is probably the closest approximation to that feeling I'd had. Presidents Ronald Reagan and Barack Obama created iconic moments in history at the Gate, and Napoleon used it to march triumphantly into Berlin, and there I was standing at the same spot. It was even more amazing at night, since I ended up in Berlin during the Festival of Lights (not Hanukkah; so many Jewish references here, geez...). Projectors covered the Gate in fantastic designs, color combinations, and even animations. For those who know my obsession with psychedelic art/lighting (read: Electric Ladyland), you can understand how deep into heaven I was watching a major landmark transformed into a psychedelic spectacle. 

The Victory Column
From Brandenburg Gate, one can see the Victory Column in the distance. I didn't accurately estimate quite how far of a distance it was - the walk took about half an hour. Other people must have thought the walk was overly long as well, since two of them ran into the bushes to pee right in front of me. Considering the police almost arrested my TA on the Munich study abroad trip for jaywalking, I don't even want to know what kind of inhumane punishment they'd dole out for public urination. Once I finally arrived, I climbed to the observation deck and got a great view of Berlin...being rained on. 

Day 2

TV Tower
Started Day 2 by ascending the Berlin TV Tower. It stands at a whopping 1200 feet tall, or approximately the size of an average Dutch male. The observation deck allows you to get a full-circle view of Berlin from about half that height. To get up to the viewing sphere, you have to take an elevator. It ascends so quickly and so high that your ears pop. Worse, the elevator has a concierge inside, and he was telling jokes in German (note: jokes in German could be mistaken for someone yelling at you). I was the only English speaker on the elevator, so I awkwardly laughed along whenever everyone else did, with a slight delay to make it even more awkward. I ended up right next to him in the cramped elevator, so he also kept looking at me when he told said jokes like I was supposed to awkwardly respond to his awkward jokes, making everything awkward times awkward. Anyway, if you go, make sure to go on a sunny day, because you will see for miles. Unfortunately, I picked a cloudy day, so I had to settle for breathtaking views of fog and tall Germanic people shoving in front of me to closely examine said fogginess. Luckily, even with the fog, you could still see the main parts of Berlin. 

 
Alexanderplatz
Right next to the TV Tower is Alexanderplatz, a main square with an interesting Neptune statue and weird people. There isn't much to say about it other than did I mention there were weird people there...For example, a homeless/homeless-looking guy came up to me asking if I wanted to go on a tour of Berlin. After walking another couple of yards ahead, I was accosted by a uniformed tour guide who would not take no for an answer, and eventually started trying to speak to me in German. A couple of yards beyond that, I was approached by a couple who asked me where Alexanderplatz is (we were standing in the middle of it). As I left the square, I came across a "map" of the area where someone had turned the TV Tower into a penis drawing; this was extra awkward because I happened to be eating an awkwardly-phallic currywurst sandwich for lunch. I decided to move on from the overall awkwardness by proceeding to the nearby DDR Museum. 

DDR Museum
Contrary to German folklore intended to scare children into obeying authority figures, the DDR Museum does not serve as a showcase of the history of video game pads with arrows used to imitate exercise masquerading as dancing to techno music. Rather, the DDR Museum explored the history of the Deutsche Demokratische Republik/East Germany and ended up being one of my favorite parts of the Berlin trip. Like the Jewish History Museum, it tells the story of East Germany primarily through cultural artifacts, such as a full-size Trabant (East German-produced car), school supplies, pantry items, consumer goods, and recreations of a typical East German home and jail cell. One odd bit of trivia I learned is that nudism was a massive craze that swept the nation. Take that, capitalism!

Museum Island/German History Museum
Museum Island in Berlin is actually designated a UNESCO World Heritage Site. I don't quite understand why, but it does house an impressive amount of museums in a small area. There are a number of art, historical, and archaeological museums, but the only one that looked really interesting to me was the German History Museum. I should've taken a moment to consider the subject matter. German + History + Museum = HOLY CRAP HOW MANY LIFETIMES DO YOU HAVE TO DIGEST ALL OF THIS HISTORY?! I spent almost 5 hours at the museum, and that was at a brisk pace. I only left because I looked at my watch and it said the year was 2457, so I should probably see how far humanity has advanced while I learned the vast history of a single country which might not even exist as an individual entity at this point, having succumbed to a trend of centralization resulting in the collapse of the Westphalian system. However, considering all of the conquering, warmongering, genocidal rampaging, cultural milestones, artistic achievements, intellectual advancements, yada yada yada that Germany has experienced, this museum deserves to be massive. I'm not even sure how to describe the museum, so I'll try it in Doge meme form: Wow. Such museum. Very objects. Many history. Wow.

Fuhrerbunker
My last stop of Day 2 was the Fuhrerbunker, or what is left, by which I mean it not being there at all. The place is extremely difficult to find, because Germany wanted it to be that way (didn't want the spot to become some sort of Neo-Nazi shrine). Far from the images of the reconstructed bunker seen in the movie Downfall, the Fuhrerbunker is now a nondescript residential housing complex. An explanatory sign near the entrance to a parking lot acts as the only marker of the historical importance of a bunch of apartments. Kind of poetic justice for the center of the Nazi regime to now be so unassuming. I wonder if there are any Jews living there; maybe we could trade bags of gold or discuss our secret control of the bank- I mean celebration of Hanukkah. 

Day 3

Berliner Unterwelten
This was probably my favorite part of the Berlin trip aside from the Festival of Lights. Berliner Unterwelten is a company that gives tours of lesser-known historically-interesting sights. They offer tours of a bombed-out flak tower, Cold War civil defense shelters, and WWII air raid shelter, among others. I decided to take the WWII air raid shelter tour. Unfortunately you're not allowed to take photos, so I'll try to describe it as best I can. The shelter is actually built into the metro system, with the entrance to the bunker being an unidentifiable door at one of the metro stops. I was a little concerned when one of the first things the tour guide said when we entered was "If you feel like you want to faint, please tell me ahead of time." Even the thought of fainting makes me want to faint - must resist his German mind games! As we progressed through the labyrinthine tunnels, the guide would tell us titillating tidbits about what happened when bombing raids occurred, how people went to the bathroom, how they kept themselves busy, how they tried their best not to die from lack of oxygen due to the absence of ventilation and presence of thousands of oxygen-breathing humans...you know, the little things. My favorite part of my basically-favorite part of the Berlin trip was the glow-in-the-dark room. Planning on the lights not functioning during an air raid, the Nazis decided to paint the walls with a highly-toxic luminescent paint. In a blackout, the paint would make the entire room light up and direct people where to exit the bunker. Aside from the tour around the structure itself, some rooms contain historical artifacts like Nazi uniforms or board games to keep the kids occupied from their near-certain death from suffocation or being blown up. The tour even incorporates some history on the metro system itself, which was a nice added bonus. In sum: I highly recommend taking one of the tours if you go to Berlin.

KaDeWe
My last visit in Berlin was to KaDeWe, the Berlin equivalent of Harrod's in London. Like Harrod's, KaDeWe has everything from luxury items to unique foods. What particularly piqued my interest was a slice of pistachio pie/cake/tort/whatever. Aside from just browsing the vast collection of things I had no intention of buying, I had an "entertaining" experience while eating dinner (another currywurst sandwich with a Hofbrauhaus beer). Quick summary, as stated on Facebook: A random German guy walked up to me to tell me for 10 minutes in broken English that I have extremely white teeth. Broken English is my nice way of saying he spoke maybe two nonsensical words in English and then rapid-fired German sentences at me. Essentially, he pointed at his teeth, then at my mouth, and said something like "so white." In retrospect, maybe he was trying to communicate something racially derogatory, or a secret code to activate my Manchurian Candidate mode. At some point, he asked an American couple sitting at the table next to me to examine my teeth. He kept awkwardly referring to me as "she," as in variations of "she has white teeth," which solidified in my mind the general level of awkwardness I noticed amongst the people of Berlin. When the guy left, one of the Americans said "I think he was hitting on you." I can't help but love you, awkward Berlin.



This blog has three more posts to go: 1) Barcelona, 2) probably a single post detailing my trips to Antwerp, Delft, and Den Haag, and 3) a summation piece where I intend to give an overall assessment of the exchange program experience.

Today's Dutch lesson: onhandig (awkward).

Haarlem Globetrotter

After my stopover in Amsterdam to finally visit Electric Ladyland, I went to the nearby town of Haarlem for another day trip. According to the always-reliable source Wikipedia, Harlem in New York City does in fact derive its name from Haarlem in the Netherlands. This relates back to when NYC was New Amsterdam. When it fell under British control, New Amsterdam became New "York" (like the English city of York) and Haarlem was Anglicized to Harlem. #TheMoreYouKnow

I got in around dinner time, which in Europe is convenient code for "nothing is open." My hostel was also located next to a highway, so I couldn't find any nearby restaurants. I sure as hell refused to pay 15 euros for the weird-looking vegetables and yogurt cups they served for dinner. However, I found out that breakfast was included in the price. I made the decision at that point to forgo dinner entirely, and instead subsist on the chosen nourishment of law students: a bottle of beer. Specifically, I tried the local variety Jopen which was quite good. Unfortunately, in order to get it, I had to interrupt a private party taking place in the hostel's bar. 1) Who throws a party in the bar of a hostel? It actually looked like a kid's birthday party. They had cake and light effects, and the 10-year old kids set up a PS3 to play Call of Duty in the hostel's restaurant (where I had to sit to drink the beer) while the adults had their fill at the bar. 2) My hair is too long, my beard looks scruffy, and I was sitting alone with a bottle of beer in a room full of kids...something was wrong with that picture.

When I got back to my room, I met my bunkmates, who have the honor of being the first Americans (aside from Marta and my roommate) I have encountered during my time here. They were extremely nice and outgoing...but also had a very stereotypical reason to be in the Netherlands. Translation: two college-aged stoners from Los Angeles who came all the way to the Netherlands to participate in the High Times Cannabis Cup in Amsterdam and went to smoke a joint about once every hour.

The next morning, I had a pretty typical Dutch breakfast courtesy of the hostel: hagelslag (bread with butter and sprinkles), bread with coldcuts and cheese, muesli with yogurt, hard boiled eggs, and some OJ.

I also made an extra sandwich and grabbed a roll with some spread to have as a quick lunch later on. Afterwards, I grabbed the bus to the city center to check out the local Grote Markt. Like every other Dutch city, Haarlem holds a Saturday open air market, selling groceries, snacks, and various wares. I noticed a toy store nearby and decided to see how it compares to Toys R Us back in the States. You cannot tell the difference between the two. The two stock the same exact items, made by the same multinational companies probably employing the same Chinese slave labor (maybe the Dutch slave-labor items are more eco-friendly...), and most of the packages were in English.

After being numbed by post-apocalyptic visions of globalized consumer culture, I thought I'd get a reprieve by going to visit the Ten Boom Museum, a house that the Ten Boom family used to hide Jews during the German occupation of the Netherlands in World War II. I did not anticipate that it would be one of the more awkward experiences of my life. The first hint of something not quite right was that in the museum you can take pictures in general but not of any photographs that line the wall. This made kind-of sense for family privacy reasons, but the "tour guide" claimed that it had to do with the photos being used for commercial purposes. I don't understand why someone would be inclined to use the family photos for commercial purposes rather than the main attraction (the fake wall that hid people). Okay, I can live with that policy, whatever the justification.

But then the real fun started. My "tour guide" revealed she actually volunteers to give tours of the house. I quickly understood why - the lady is an extreme Christian fundamentalist to the nth degree. Apparently, I had missed a key point when reading about this place: Corrie ten Boom, the lady who wrote the book The Hiding Place about her family's activities hiding Jews during the Holocaust, was super Christian and went on to "spread His word" around the globe. This didn't exactly gel with what I thought was more Holocaust-related story than missionary extravaganza. I appreciate the selfless act of the Ten Boom family, who should be commended for risking their lives (some of them actually giving their lives) to protect Jews from the Germans and Dutch collaborators. But wow, I have never been so heavily evangelized in my life. The lady kept rhetorically asking me variants of "You believe Jesus Christ is your lord and savior, right?" "You know He died on the cross for our sins, right?" "You know there's a Third World War coming because of Muslims and secularists, right?" Wait, what? Yes, this lady was convinced that we are a stone's throw away from all-out religious war that will result in the fulfillment of the Book of Revelation.

The most awkward part was that the other guy on this tour with me also happened to be a mega-fundamentalist and was privy to the Christian overtones of the story, and all of the things I just described happened over a half-hour "conversation" where me and this other guy were sitting directly across from the "tour guide" in the living room of the house that once housed clandestine Jews during the Holocaust. At one point, she wouldn't accept my polite nodding to her rhetorical questions and outright asked me if I praise Jesus. I couldn't hide my Jewishness anymore (ironic - and she couldn't even guess from my Jew fro??), and said that I'm Jewish. She gave me the stock Christian retort ("You know, Jesus was Jewish and the Old Testament laid the foundation for Christianity."), but every time I hear that, I can hear the implicit follow-up ("...but you know non-Christians are going to hell, right?"). She ended up giving me a book in Hebrew which she made clear discusses why Jews should become Christians to be saved from the End-Times. Again, people can proselytize if they want (pretty wasted effort on me), but I feel like it's inappropriate to do so in the context of a museum tour, especially in a house that protected Jews during the Holocaust (you know, the attempt to eradicate Judaism). Ironically, I've never felt more proud to be Jewish than after the "tour."

After what seemed like a never-ending half-hour, the "tour guide" finally took us around the house. By that point, the cat was already out of the bag, so she tailored her overt Christian fundamentalism to the slightly more nuanced Judeo-Christian v. everyone else message. This resulted in many interesting contrasts. For example, when we got to the actual hiding place, she made sure to mention that the Ten Booms were imprisoned by the Dutch collaborators for protecting Jews (eventually leading to Corrie's father's death from illness) and Corrie's sister died in Ravensbruck. Unspoken narrative: Christians died for your people. How very Jesus-like. At another point, when she pointed out the yellow "Jood" patch worn in the concentration camps, the "tour guide" told us the story of how Corrie somehow procured and hid a New Testament, which she read aloud to Jews late at night to give them some sort of spiritual uplifting. Unspoken narrative #2: she was proselytizing Jews in concentration camp.

Once the tour of the house was over, the "tour guide" gave me a bookmark which reads "We have an Almighty Father in heaven. Trust Him and He will do great things in your life." Then, the other guy on the tour  bought me the DVD of The Hiding Place "to learn more about Corrie's message of hope and forgiveness." I forgive you, crazy tour guide lady.

I guess a Higher Force was at work, because immediately after that transcendental experience I ended up at Cathedral of St. Bavo. As I've said in the past, I belong to the "seen one, seen 'em all" category of church visitors in Europe. Admittedly, St. Bavo is an impressive church as far as churches go. It had an extremely-oversized organ (compensating for something??), intricate stain-glass windows, ornate ceilings, and...user-submitted artwork?

Maybe this is supposed to be the new, hip side of the church? I don't really see the connection between Christianity and Family Guy, except all of the times Jesus does non-Jesus things on the show, or in relation to the use of giggity vis-a-vis my organ joke. I feel like these pictures also deserve a caption contest. Send me your best, Internet!

After the church, I made my way to the Teylers Museum, which combines an odd mix of natural history, art, science, and coin collections. One neat collection they had there consisted of Rembrandt etchings. My favorite, however, was definitely their exhibit on luminescence, i.e. round 2 of Electric Ladyland:

I also discovered that I have an unhealthy fascination with uranium (timely yet unintended Iran nuclear deal reference!), seen below in the greenish glass forms and the bright green cube:

From the Teylers Museum, I headed to the Molen de Adriaan, an unusual windmill built on top of a fortification. 

You can see the innerworkings of the windmill as part of a guided tour. I learned a lot of neat stuff about windmills from the tour, including how millers position the sails to send a certain message to other millers (such as signaling malfunctions, weddings, deaths, etc.) and the various uses for windmills (water regulation, milling, oil manufacturing, and sawing wood, among others). I also learned that once upon a time there were over 15,000 windmills, now reduced to approximately 1,100 - according to the tour guide, the biggest cause of the windmill's decline was the growing influence of power utilities in the 19th century. The best part was seeing not only the windmill in operation (unlike the ones in Kinderdijk) but also the sails up close when the miller decided to change them. 

Afterwards, I wandered a bit around the city. I eventually found my way to Jopenkerk, a former church that now houses the Jopen brewery. I can think of no better contrast/poetic justice to the Ten Boom Museum experience than ending my day in Haarlem drinking a beer (Jopen's Mashing Pumpkins, a delicious pumpkin beer) in a former church. To top it off, I grabbed some Oliebollen (large puffy donuts covered in powdered sugar) nearby. To doubly top everything off, a parade of Zwarte Piets marched right by me playing Zwarte Piet tunes. What a send-off!

  

Today's Dutch word: kerk (church).