I live in Germany now.

So Amsterdam was my first staying in a Hostel experience. We shared a room with four other people who interchanged every day. We slept on single mattresses in metal framed bunk beds. Overall, it was alright. We paid for the location, which was right downtown very close to the central train station. The guy working the front desk was very useful, and marked all of the sights, markets and specific areas on our maps, including the location of the hostel. The only thing I really had to complain about was the "house cat" who I tried to make friends with, only to be bitten. I accidentally sat on him later, much to the amusement of the guy at the desk, and I didn't even feel bad. Stupid cat.

Our first night we happened to wander into the Red Light District. I mean this quite literally; we knew according to the map that it wasn't far from our hostel so we walked in the general direction. We encountered a colorfully lit area, and a few streets with a bunch of red neon lights. After we got to a section of town where the lights ended we decided to ask for directions and found out we had just walked through it. So, we turned around. The Red light district was one of the more bizarre things I've ever seen. Full-sized windows with girls of every shape and color and size pose in the window, with nothing but underwear and bras attempting to entice some customers. Now, I didn't investigate much into it, but I imagine that you stand outside, pick out your maiden and then go inside and order her. In addition to that, you can go into establishments and pick them out from in there, or attend a sex show of many different themes. The area was very strange to walk through as the entire street has a red glow, like a degenerate wonderland.

Downtown was just as lit up but more colorful. There was cuisine from practically every country (though, I must say that their Doner selection was rather pathetic), and we especially were impressed with the NY style pizza. The streets are lined with the famous coffeeshops. Now I have to say, that for being the only country in the western world to completely legalize marijuana, the marketing for these coffeeshops is really disappointing. I mean, most of them are just modest-diner looking on the inside with a big Jamaican flag on the outside with some forgettable name. I'm just saying that in a city where people go downtown just to experience a coffeeshop, you'd think they'd try a little harder to distinguish themselves from the competition. I did see some that were chuckle-worthy and took pictures of the signs.

The other tourist shops and "energy supply" shops were also note-worthy. They'll sell anything from keychains and bottles of coke to "happy pills" and magic mushrooms. The tourist market really is made up of the relaxed-drug atmosphere and the red light district. It was amusing to walk through and look at, but "cannabis-induced energy drinks" and giant neon glass dildos were not something I cared to invest much time in.

Oddly enough, in the day time Amsterdam was one of the most pretty and traditional looking European cities I've ever seen. The building are old and possess the same grandeur as Parisian buildings. And of course, the canals are what really make the city. Every street looks like a postcard of Dutch houses along canals lined with house boats. If you stand in the middle of the bridge, you can look out on the many many canals that run parallel to the one you're standing on. The bikes also are very stereotypical of the city.

For many people in Amsterdam the bikes are they're only mode of transportation outside of the public network. So, they have a bike lane in between the street lane and the sidewalk. Germany has this concept too, and Spain does as well. However, in Spain apparently they don't use it hardly at all. When I was in Barcelona actually Melissa and Michelle both laughed at my "fear" of the bike lane. I explained to them that in Germany you DO NOT walk in the bike lane or risk having the sound of a bike bell be the last noise you hear before you get bloodied-up. Now Amsterdam was like the German style multiplied by five. In fact there was a very comical scene anyone who knows us would appreciate where we were crossing a street and we had to get past one bike lane, the street, the tram, the other side of the street, the other side of the street's bike lane and onto the sidewalk. Our plan fell through when we were waiting on the tram lines without the knowledge that cars can drive on the tram tracks. We went backwards into the regular car lane, and then had to run backwards into the bike lane and then run backwards to get back onto the sidewalk before we attempted to cross the street again.

The very first thing we did was going to the Anne Frank house. We didn't have to wait very long, which was lucky. Between last semester and this semester and the courses I've had at Iowa I feel pretty surrounded by the Jewish history of Europe. But even knowing the Anne Frank story, and all of that included, I still would say that it's pretty haunting. Walking through the house, room from room, you read quotes about that particular room on the wall, and you can still see (behind glass) the posters the girls put up in their bedrooms. It was worth the visit, but I have to say that just with every holocaust-related memorial, I wish that they would provide a more secluded feeling so that you could take it in as a historical sight instead of being overcrowded by other tourists and loud children, etc.

After that experience, we happened across a paddle boat rental station. 8 euro each to paddle boat the canals. Since we were heading in the general direction of the paddle boat route, and the sun was shining, we asked ourselves, "How could we resist?" And so, we boarded our capsule and attempted to make our way though the water. We did pretty well for ourselves considering that neither of us are particularly nautical and we had to steer around large boat tours and through unmarked canals. It was a very entertaining afternoon to say the least.

Amsterdam was by far the most relaxing vacation I've ever had. There aren't really all that many sites or activities that you have to cram in and we were there for four days, and we had beautiful weather, which meant practically anything was a great idea. We spent our days just wandering around with a vague goal in mind. We laid down in the sun in parks, Vondelpark, in particular was a fun time, and we wandered to the harbor and hung out there for a while. You really couldn't go wrong just wandering around in Amsterdam, so that's exactly what we did.

One of our few goals was to check out the flea market. There were quite a few souvenir-stands, a lot of hand-crafterd products from artistic skirts to Van Gogh paintings on shirts and purses, countless jewelry stands, and then some bizarre things like old cameras, lamps, and coins.

Our next goal was to get to a pretty bridge where our front-desk dude told us we could, "Make pretty photo." After hours of merrily being lost (which included an ice cream break in an outdoor cafe), we found the bridge and tried to make our pretty photo. Then we got lost for another few hours trying to make it to the giant Windmill before we gave up and headed back to the train station.

We also tried to go out one night. We found the square with the nightlife and hung out in a park. There, we met some guys who were not so subtly hitting on us. This became a bit awkward after a while, as we were not very welcoming to the idea of hanging out with strangers who were apparently very comfortable invading my personal space. We eventually ended up cutting the night short in favor of finding something to eat.

Our most fun day was our last full day there. We started out with finding the coffeeshop where a scene in Ocean's 12 was filmed. Inside it was very swanky: bright orange and swivel chairs, red and orange lights- much more impressive than the others. And they had berry smoothies that were delicious. Now I watched the scene from the movie when I got back home, and you can't see much of the shop, which is a shame, but it was still fun to see. Then, we made our way through a bunch of flower markets and it was then that I had a strange notion about Holland. Naturally, I was reminded of my Grandma Rose, gardener-extraordinaire, but it made me laugh that in looking around at the flower market and the Dutch houses that this was really the only country that I've heard stories from my family about. Not that I have any strong claim to any of my heritage, but like I said, Holland is the only one I've ever even heard a story about.

After the flower market, we were making our way towards the Heineken brewery. When we finally got there, we looked at the line, the price to get in and determined that neither of us are really even fans of Heineken, we're both very cheap, and we didn't really feel like drinking beer. So, we took a picture, and went to Holland's longest market. This one was much more of a market: meat and sweets, hand-made crafts, cloth, etc. Then on our way back towards the main part of town, we came across the Amsterdam Dungeon.

From the outside it looked like a Wisconsin Dells tourist trap. But, it boasted a haunted-house-esque history lesson of Holland's dark side and the winning token: a roller coaster ride at the end. The inside really was a lot like a Wisconsin Dells activity. But I did learn in true Haunted House-style, dark history about the East Indian Trading Company and the Plague, I guess. And the what they really failed to mention to us was that the roller coaster at the end was a "trip through hell" led by a Dutch-screaming Demon. Now by then, Melissa and I were just in hysterics laughing at our very awesome time in the Amsterdam Dungeon. So much better than the Heineken Tour for us.

Then, while we were still in a fit of giggles, we come across the national monument only to find a full-fledged pillow fight going on. Feathers were flying around the sky like snow, while people of all ages are whipping pillows at each other. We naturally got in the middle of everything to investigate and stood around in awe.

Across the street, we noticed that the carnival which was in the setting-up process before was up and running. I saw one of those giant swings that spins you round and round hundreds of feet up in the air. I somehow talked Melissa into getting on the ride with me. She probably agreed because first, everything we had done so far during the day had put us in an on-top-of-the-world mood anyway, and 2nd because the Amsterdam Dungeon was her idea. It even boasted a panoramic view of the city from above. After 3 tries of figuring out how to get on the ride, we were strapped in (not strapped in enough to Melissa's standards) and we were off. Melissa was not so pleased with the ride once it really got going and was screaming bloody murder. I tried to comfort her in explaining that if the wire broke and we'd go flying into a really pretty building and then instantly die because our bodies wouldn't be able to survive that kind of impact, but oddly, she was not comforted by this. After we got down, she bought herself a giant bag of cotton candy, I bought us a giant fish and chips and we watched the end of the pillow fight.

We spent the rest of our time in Amsterdam wandering around at night and waiting for a Herring stand to open that never did. All and all, probably one of the best times of my life.

The moment I stepped off of the train from the airport and into the Metro in Barcelona I suddenly remembered something I had forgotten before: the Labyrinth that is the Barcelona Metro. We're talking mile long tunnels underground that make you swerve in and out of crowds around corners, up the stairs down the stairs in suffocating concrete walls with a 20 pound backpack on you, having to be fully aware at all times that anyone within a 10 ft radius of you is probably eying you up as a fine target for petty-robbery. Thankfully the Spanish culture is the most aggressive culture I've ever come across in Europe and it's not too hard to push through the crowds. Unless of course, you go flying into a metal pole marking the entrance to the metro because you've found yourself in a school-group of Spanish boys who think that it would be amusing to screw around with you. Knowing that cursing in English at them would provoke them, and cursing in Spanish at them would be near impossible and mark me as a total fool, I went with angry German. Once again, it proved rather useful and the Spanish brats were quivering in fear pointing blaming fingers at their pals. There's always some kind of method to the Spanish madness, I guess.

After getting above ground and breathing fresh air, Melissa arrives to pick me up with longer darker blonde hair, the closest rendition of her Middle-grade self I've seen in almost a decade. I actually did not recognize her from the distance until she called out, "How much? How much to take you home?" After our reunion, she turns to me in completely distraught and says, "The plans are ruined!" Because I was late? "No," she points to the cloudy sky, "It's raining!" This hit me as quite possible one of the funniest things yet. Having seen the sun a total of 3 days since I had arrived in Europe, I realized that these people in Barcelona were quite simply: spoiled on sun. Never the less, I met most of Melissa's charming Barcelona friends and had a very eventful night filled with Pizza Hut, a LOT of Tequila and clubbing until 6 am, breakfast followed. Happy 22nd, Melissa- welcome to OLDLAND.

The last time I was in Barca, I was only there for 2 days, and it seemed that we were cramming everything we possibly could into a Melaymi weekend. This time it felt so much more relaxed and Melissa, being the (adorably) goal-orientated lady that she is, planned out an itinerary for every day which included meals, night plans, and all of the touristy things I didn't get to do before. We explored the downtown areas, I marveled at palm trees (again...), and ate delicious Mediterranean-styled sandwiches on the beach.

A particularly entertaining street-performer.
Me: Can I take a picture of him without having to put money in his bucket?
Melissa: What's he gonna do? Run after you?

The streets in Barcelona are so different than most places I've seen. For one the architecture just reminds me of tropical ruins, the street lights have an exotic green glow, and it just feels like these people wander the streets with no particular aim at their own leisurely speed with tummies full of spicy red wine. I can't tell if it's Barcelona specifically or this southern European lifestyle that feels so laid back and exotic in comparison to the Germans.

The next day, Melissa took me to Park Guell. (Apparently featured in Christi Barcelona something or other.) I was really excited about this because it wasn't something we got to do last time, and the park is designed to look like something straight out of Alice in Wonderland. The park itself is situated on a giant hill surrounded by gardens filled with tropical looking trees, shrubbery and flowers. There are mosaic-glass benches that overlook the city and caves that go for about a mile long with strange orange-colored pillars. The main center of attraction is this strange salamander in the middle of the park made of glass. Very nice statue, but I can't for the life of me understand the significance.

The "cave" sections of the park are very bizarre. They look a LOT like the ancient ruins where King Louie sings, "I wanna be like you," in The Jungle Book, except it's littered with musician-street performers. In between the caves, there is a large expanse of sand where people write their names and other messages which overlooks the entire city all the way to the coast. One one way to describe that: simply beautiful.

For lunch, we went to a Sushi Buffet, something that was very important to me. Melissa and I actually discussed how ironic it was that Spain is home of Mediterranean and seafood cuisine, my favorite kind of food, while Germany is home to sausages and tasty pastries, her favorites. In any case, this Sushi buffet was noteworthy for one very special thing: you sit down at a table and there's a conveyor belt that goes around the middle of the restaurant along the tables, and you just grab whatever you think looks good. Dessert included, too. My favorite was the Octopus, I had to have eaten 3 little plates of that. In any case, that Sushi restaurant kicks the one in Schaumburg's little ass.

In addition to the Sushi, I can't go on about my time in Barcelona without giving respect to Melissa for cooking me so many meals: stir-fry, several different kinds of tapas, grilled cheese and tomato soup- all of them, delicious. It made me realize that I really need to learn how to cook more in Germany. That girl can get her meal on.

Melissa had class the next day, so instead of napping her friend Michelle, who is just the sweetest girl in the world (who ALSO goes to the University of Iowa), adopted me for the afternoon and took me to the beach where we each had a carton of delicious Spanish wine (the kind that costs under a euro). I had such a great time chatting with her and enjoying the beach. I don't know how it's happened, but I realized in the last year that I am a beach-loving girl. The only explanation I have for it is growing up on Lake Michigan, though. (which is hardly comparable) In any case, I will never be able to get enough of the Barcelona beach.

That night we went out for one of her friends' birthday (ANOTHER Iowan). While the bouncers there were by far some of the rudest bouncers I've ever come across, thanks to Melissa being pushy and domineering (again, I love her for it), we managed to get into a section they were restricting us from, and had a blast dancing to American 70s 80s and 90s hits, including "Barbie Girl," a song I haven't heard in I don't even know how long.

Our last night out they took me to a bar they'd been talking about since the FIRST time I was in Barcelona: Chupitos. This is one of those places where they have a million and a half different clever names for shots and you aren't allowed to know what's in them until after you take them. Apparently there's one called the Monica Lewinsky which is some kind of liquor and whipped cream spread all over an... artificial male sexual organ... that is shoved into this poor unsuspecting customer. There is also a Boy Scout, where they give you a marshmallow and light a fire in front of you where you roast the marshmallow, then take your shot (I think it's whiskey, I don't know) and eat your marshmallow as the chaser. Very strange.

The next day we made our way to the airport and got on our plane to Amsterdam. There was something oddly reminiscent about the two of us on a plane next to each other, both with a bag of candy that made me think of our 8th grade trip to Washington D.C. And so started our vacation to Amsterdam.

In the last 24 hours it has simultaneously rained, snowed, hailed, and there was thunder and lightening while the sun was shining in Berlin. I cannot express how much I am looking forward to Spanish weather and spring in general. You know it's bad when I'm missing Chicago weather.

A few nights ago was my new good friend, Sadie's, 21st birthday. Celebrations were naturally in order, and we ventured to a Karaoke bar with high hopes. There, we found several groups of 20-something Germans drinking and attempting to belt out classic American 80s hits. Not being a group to shy away, and eager to test our vocal chords, we enthusiastically put our names down for a number of songs. After overcharging us for beer all night (good thing we had some warm-up drinks before hand- thank you cheap convenience stores), we began to notice that the DJ was skipping over us as often as he could. Understanding that we are hated by all far and wide in Europe, we were mildly irked, but said and did nothing. Shortly after stunning the crowd with a duet rendition of Mr. Big's I'm the One and the inevitable cheering that followed from the corner our group had been situated in, the DJ very foolishly blurted into the microphone (in German): Shut up, you f***ing Americans! Now, I'd like to point out that we were certainly no louder than any other group there, and immediately took offense, not only at the obvious, but at the fact that this man had never considered that we could understand German. Well, what do you do when a bad reputation proceeds you? Live up to it. I think every one of us left with a complimentary giant beer glass that night. Serves em right.

Along with these adventures, I've been indulging in some touristy activities. Living in a HUGE city is a ridiculously rewarding experience and I really do feel like I've found my calling as far as knowing the kind of place I belong. I've set a goal for myself: Every week I will try to take advantage of the cultural opportunities in the city. Since I last updated, I've been to the German Historical Museum, which lemme just say, I loved. We walked through the 1920s-1990s for three hours and it was not enough for me. Among some of the most interesting things were pictures of the Brandenburger Tor during a Nazi parade (it's so bizarre to walk by something in present day and see it in pictures during the Nazi or Cold War era), a dollhouse from the Nazi-era in which you can see portraits of Hitler and the swastika flags along the walls, a small guide book to Paris for German soldiers, AND a portrait of Erich Honecker- the exact same one that hangs in my room.

I also visited the Siegessaeule (Victory Column) which is just down the street from the Brandenburger Tor. It was built in 1870 something or other and actually survived WWII. Following (I think) the Napoleonic era in Berlin, the French actually took the golden angel on top away but did eventually return it. Then, after WWII, the French wanted to blow it up in the middle of an already destroyed city, and the other allied powers had to veto them. A little history I found amusing- don't mess with the French, man. Then in 2006, the famous Love Parade congregated around it, and the pictures of that event look absolutely amazing. After climbing 278 stairs in a narrow graffiti-ridden spiral staircase, you get to the top and can see a wonderful 360 view of the city (and the dead forests that surround it).

Also outside of the Siegessaeule, I saw my first Trabi Safari. For those who don't know, the Trabi is an east German car famous for being, well, a piece of crap. (The average citizen in East Germany had to wait 7-10 years to even obtain the car.) Now, you can rent a Trabi and go on a Trabi Safari (a huge line of Trabis) around Berlin. I think it's hilarious.

I've also been thrift shopping and checking out flea markets. Among my finds: a classic vintage Beer stein (by the way, NOT the German word for this- and if you use the phrase Bierstein in German, it's asking for a beer rock, which, I learned, REALLY confuses these people). Anyway, my stein is wonderfully old and has the phrase, "Drink amongst Friends" engraved on it. I also picked up a fantastic elephant ring. I know it sounds bizarre, but you'll see, you'll love it. And, I made off with a DDR-era purse that is pretty amazing and quite a deal. Living cheap in Berlin makes me so happy every day. I really am the cheapest child alive, and a true testament to both of my parents.

I'm starting to get to the point where I feel very distant from my people back home, which I recognize from last semester. There's something very strange about having a group of people you see everyday suddenly ripped out of your life to be replaced by a strange group of people called, "Study Abroad Friends." It's not that I don't love my STF's, they're fantastic people, but the short-lived friendships you form with them, while just as strong as many friendships I've had, are very hard to compare with people from home- people who not only know and understand your roots, but who are your roots. Anyway, I realized that long-distance bestfriending is incredibly taxing on the spirit, and the added dread of graduating and growing up hinders my motivation to put in effort. In addition to all of this, I've experienced my first last semester crisis in which I realized my childish notions of growing up are fast-approaching, and I'm clueless. Everything terrifies me. Well, I guess that's what academic advisers, mothers and cheap Italian/Spanish wine is for.

My lovely sista Mandy will be crossing the pond shortly (just like her big sister), and I am highly anticipating hearing all about her travels through Italy. I'm debating planning a trip to England during Easter weekend to visit, but it'll be her first weekend there, and it might be better to visit later when she needs a friendly face and a good time. All I need to do after that is convince her that flying to Berlin and/or Istanbul is really not that hard or expensive. In any case, as most people reading this thing (if anyone does at all- ha ha) are relatives, I highly encourage you to look her up on the same site to enjoy her adventures. (She's living with nuns and she's- I mean this in a loving way- MANDY- hilarious stories are bound to be told.)

Tonight I'm going to an opera. *Pause for reaction* It was free, and it's my cultural thing this week. Tomorrow, I am meeting with this German guy I hit it off with one night, and Friday I will be trying to take it easy in preparation for Melaymipalooza, aka Spring Break with my wife in Barcelona and Amsterdam. I will probably not update until after my much-anticipated break. Wish me good weather before I become a depression-risk and sweaterholic.

After a simultaneously eventful (RIP Diabla) and ridiculously long winter break, I'm back in D-Land. I feel I've settled into Berlin very nicely so far. It's a real pleasure to speak German every day, and what I lacked in Freiburg I've more than made up for here. On my way here I switched planes in Munich, and I was delayed for 30 min because they found a bomb new the airport- a bomb from WWII.... welcome back to Germany.

I live in an apartment on the east-side of Berlin called Prenzlauerberg, which is one neighborhood in particular that is really booming crazy in the development department. I mean this in a few different ways; first, you can't find a single street in Berlin that is not under serious construction and Prenzlauerberg is even more prone to this, second, it is the neighborhood known for its nightlife scene and insane amount of artistic boutiques, hookah bars, and as a musician hub, and third, it is officially Babytown. During the night, the area is filled with everyone who is anyone wandering aimlessly in groups dressed from the eccentric to high-fashion to down right scary, making their way towards any number of bars and clubs at any hour of the night (though most places don't even draw a crowd until 12-1) During the day, it is overrun by young families, so you literally cannot walk for more than 2 minutes without hearing the wail of a toddler (who is usually dressed far more chic than I am.)

I live with Siguine, a woman in her 40s and her boyfriend and their son, Rocco, who is 3, and enjoys blowing a viking squeak-horn, screaming the Bob-the-Builder song (in both English and German). I don't have as much interaction with my host compared to others in the program, we chit-chat when we run into one another, and that's about as far as it goes, but they're all very nice to me, and my only complaint is that due to the nature of old east-berlin apartments and 3-year-olds, it is very LOUD in the morning. All in all, I can't complain. My room has ridiculously high ceilings, my own closet, shelves, tv, desk and lamp. I love that it is an actual room compared to my former white-concrete-box in the dorms. I also am incredibly amused by a large portrait which I inherited of Erich Honecker. I was watching [/u]The lives of Others the other week and noticed the exact same portrait hanging in the Stasi interrogation room. Amusing, to say the least, but I don't mind Comrade Erich watching over me.

We have an entire month of orientation activities with IES and a daily intensive 4-hour German class Mon-Thurs. So far, it's been rather boring, but they do offer some fun cultural activities for free, like Museum tours and going to the Opera, and our trip to Potsdam. I'll be taking 2-3 IES courses (yes, they're taught in German) as well as (hopefully....) a french and/or Swimming course at the Humbolt University in Berlin. Then, after classes are over I will start an internship (I don't know exactly where yet), and then I have to grow up back in Chicago.

The other IES students are a lot different from the last group I was with, and in a good way. (Not that I didn't enjoy the few people I did really get along with.) There's something to be said for a group of students from across the country (and a few from other countries) who decide that German is the language they want to study. I feel really happy about the way I've managed to put myself out there and form a nice basis for a good group of people, and I've mostly been keeping really busy enjoying their company. Outside of class, we wander around the gigantic city, we go out and experience the insane night life- I've already been to a Russian Disco, a live-music bar, a reggae club, a 7-dance floor club, and a club called "White Trash Fast Food," and every day it seems we add more to the list of places to experience.

We've also been adventurous in exploring the overwhelming culinary options in Berlin. For instance, Doeners are the Turkish equivalent of Gyros and Germany in general and Berlin in particular are obsessed with them- and now, so are we. (so much that we have brought about Doenertag- a play on the German word for Thursday: Donnerstag) What's not to love: fresh salad, chicken or lamb, 3 different sauces, cheese all piled into a pita shell that takes two hand to carry around, and it's incredibly cheap. I do not know how Doeners are not in every US college town, it's a market they're sorely missing out on. Indian and Lebanese restaurants are everywhere, including one we ate at tonight, which had a 2 dishes for the price of 1 deal on Sundays. Simply amazing. Also on my list: Fish & Chips, Australian Dining: Kangaroo Burger. I try to eat at home as much as I can to save money which is still pretty delicious versions of cheese spreads, bakery breads, sausages and chicken schnitzel. As for the beer and wine: don't you worry, I've had plenty of samples of both and there's no wrong choice.

Living on the east side, it's incredibly amusing to me that I am becoming really fond of everything East-Berlin. Though I've been here for about 2 1/2 weeks, I've only made it to West Berlin once. (Yes, I'm aware the wall is down.) What can I say? I like the east better. The pride and joy of east Berlin is our street-crossing man: Ampelmann, and everything in the east is either brand new developed or old and built with infamous commi-concrete- both are aspects I appreciate, and most important, everything in the east is less expensive. There's something to be said for a neighborhood exploration that includes running smack into the Berlin wall and being able to walk into Antique stores that are ridden with DDR nostalgia from alarm clocks to Party pins to bright orange kitchen sets.

Alexanderplatz is by far the most fun place in east Berlin. It's been filmed a million and a half times, and features the gigantic TV tower as well as the world clock and numerous cheap quick-eating-spots as well as a graffiti colored fountain. I did however venture to the west once to go shopping, and found the Kaiser-Wilhelm Memorial Church. This is a church which was completely bombed out in WWII and stands in its ruins in the middle of a gigantic shopping center. Pretty nice picture of Berlin culture old and new.

I've also ventured to Potsdam where we saw what remains of the old Prussian military city. (Not a whole lot.) But they did have a "little Holland" section, and a castle which apparently was built by Friedrich the Great in order to have a place to "chill." (Seriously, the Patron-Saint of this castle is whoever the Roman God of wine and partying is.) They also have a smaller version of Berlin's Brandenburger Tor and I was very intrigued by a piece of art which can only be described as a hanging Rhino. Our trip to Potsdam was also the first time since arriving I saw the sun. It's been getting a little bit better this week, but seriously, the weather here is worse than in Chicago... and that's saying something. Berliners shake their heads in disdain when I ask if the sun will ever come out again. Apparently in Berlin the sun is in hibernation until April.

I celebrated a rowdy St. Patricks day in an Irish pub and thoroughly enjoyed teaching people from Texas how to celebrate it. I came home with a few scrapes and bruises but it was a great night and I was happily reminded of Iowa City nights when I was handed a giant green beer. And speaking of being reminded of good Iowa City times, I'm looking forward to my upcoming spring break vacation of a lifetime (don't even try not to be jealous): Me and Melissa in Barcelona for 4 days celebrating her birthday, then 4 days in Amsterdam together. I get giddy just thinking about it.

Next time I'll publish faster..... with less pictures probably.

Well, my last few weeks in Europe have been extremely busy. We were given a huge Thanksgiving feast as a closer, to what I like to call hell-week (2 presentations, 3 term papers, no sleep). I can safely say that it was unlike any thanksgiving dinner I've ever had in my life: a five course meal... and no pumpkin pie. I still had a good time at our fancy German restaurant, but couldn't help but be reminded of the Thanksgiving I missed at home full of rowdy Michiganians.

That weekend, we visited the biggest Christmas festival in France. There was Gluehwein by the barrel passed out in adorable little boots and coffee mugs, hundreds of stalls of Christmas ornaments, make-your-own-nativity sets, and chocolate covered fruit. People are walking around with Santa Claus hats that light up and spring at the end, or with Clausette white braids coming out of either ends. There are carousels and booths marked, "Hansel und Gretel" with witches hanging all over. In the midst of all this Frenchy Christmas spirit, also in typical Frenchyness, there was a demonstration going on, right in the middle of the square with the giant Christmas tree- for Palestinian Freedom, and calls for stopping EU trade negotiations with Israel. Well, we couldn't help but at least investigate.... and sign their petition. Probably one of the best things, though, was the ice skating rink. There we were, enjoying the scenary near the cathedral when we stumble upon an ice rink all decorated with lights and wreaths playing.... "Walk on the Wildside." (I'll have pictures of the French Christmas market after tomorrow and my giant picture exchange)

After a mini-dance session we went to the concert we had been planning on attending that weekend, Ratatat. I can safely say that it was the best concert I've ever been to in my life. Light shows, guitars and effects all around, who could ask for more?

The next week, we prepared for our Model EU summit, and I prepared to say a whole lot of nothing, as I was the Prime Minister for Portugal. After two days straight of way too many discussions, I've lost even more faith in the EU to actually do anything productive. In many essays now I've expressed a lot of frustrations that the EU wastes money, wastes time, and is a government of elites which the vast majority of the public doesn't know anything about. Furthermore, Europe on a whole, and I'm looking especially at you, France, are full of the most racist people. In conclusion, regarding my time studying the EU for a semester, I'd like to be the first to say that I have serious doubts about the EU still being a global power in 50 years.

After our closing ceremony for the EU, we were treated to yet another dinner, followed by some much-needed steam-release at a club, celebrating one of my friend's 21st. Everyone got home more or less ok, and actually made it to our last soccer match. I am always surprised when we walk into the stadium how much it reminds me of Iowa games. The biggest differences of course, is that all the cheering and chants are in German, and that they sell you lots of hot wine and/or beer. Plus the game actually being soccer. Freiburg won, and I got to experience a stadium full of crazy German soccer fans celebrating the victory with strange rituals such as team members having solo dances and a victory speech by the chant-leader followed by screaming and scarf and flag waving ceremony.

In the last week, I visited the Freiburg Christmas market, which isn't too shabby to say the least. It's spread out all over town in different little stalls and at night, they light everything up and it's honestly a little Christmas village right out of a Hallmark shop. Then, we had our crazy American party. After a semester abroad and going to a variety of bizarre bars/clubs of all shapes and sizes and themes, it was something very bizarre to walk into a room with a blaring sound system blasting all American songs, beer pong and flippy cup set up, and German beer bottles being passed out like candy. I would like to add proudly that while many of my American counterparts went WAY overboard, I remember all of the night and behaved very well, thank you very much.

Most recently, I attended a demonstration against a law being passed that will make Black Bloc illegal (a form of protest, which can sometimes get a little violent). I walked out of one of my finals, camera in hand to a demonstration of about 2,000 people with megaphones, flags and lots of punk-attire- including some stylish blue Mohawks. This was made even more eventful as they were all chanting loudly and huge throngs of police in full out riot gear and gas tanks were surrounding the crowd I was now in, on all sides. Thankfully, no gas was used, and the demonstration ended with a giant hippie-punk-far leftist rave fest in the middle of a neighborhood. We stayed and enjoyed the atmosphere for a while, it was quite the experience. Then, we found out that they were going to a leftist-commune-bar in Freiburg and decided we had to check it out. That, by far was one of the strangest European experiences I've ever seen in my life. It's basically a giant warehouse on the outskirts of town (we had to hop a small fence or two and sneak around some dodgy alleys here and there). Upstairs, are dark colorful hallways with little rooms with giant anarchy signs painted on them and political speeches blaring. Then there was the actual commune area where people were staying from out of town. This essentially consisted of mattresses and discarded furniture sprawled throughout a room, where various people were sitting and dissecting their revolutionary ideas out, I imagine. To top it all of, there were three electric organs being played and a bar still serving drinks in the same room. Downstairs was just as leftist, but had a three bands play live. All in all, it was QUITE the day.

Now that it's my last week here, I'm drifting through it kind of like a zombie. I haven't quite come to terms with actually leaving, and instead, I'm focusing my attention on finals. This will probably be the last entry till I come back for Berlin. I wish I could say more about going home, but I just feel numb to it almost. I have no idea what to expect. I'm excited for a lot, I'm nervous, and I have no idea when I'm going to stop feeling weird. Ha ha ha. I guess I've been leading a very bizarre life here.