Aachen

This past Wednesday (3/22), I traveled with the other international students to Aachen, another old town in the far west of Germany (about an hour and a half away from Bonn.) I had a pretty good time, certainly better than I had (overall) in Marksburg. Here are some photos of the Aachener Dom (Charlemagne's cathedral) and Aachen in general. It's a beautiful cathedral in a beautiful little city. I'll add a few historical tidbits (if I can remember them) along with the photos, but more extensive info can be found here.

Note: I have figured out how to bring up the quality of the photos slightly -- some things have been re-loaded, the cartoons as well as portions of the Marksburg set.


The first photo I took of part of the church -- quite an imposing structure:


A small model of the church:


Bronze doors leading into the cathedral. They aren't opened anymore, but there is a lot of interesting history attached to them. For one, the Devil's thumb is meant to be stuck in the mouth of the lion on your right. I felt around extensively, but no luck:


Sven, my Führer ('Führer' is the word used by Germans for 'tourguide'):


This sculpture of a bear/wolf-like creature is located just inside the church. It used to be a fountain, evidenced by the hole in the chest. This came from Rome and it is older than the church itself, which is dated as having been started in 786:


Inside the cathedral. This is an image of the ceiling with its mosaic of Christ as judge of mankind. Stunning, important to experience in person:


A chandelier commissioned by some rich patron of Charlemagne. More interesting history that I have trouble relating properly. I do recall that it is meant to be a representation of the new Jerusalem, the one to be founded after the coming of Christ -- hence the structure and gilding. There must be a book someone can buy on all this (and it would be a worthwhile purchase.):


These pillars are quite a bit older than the church itself; I think they date back to the third or fourth century. They were brought from Rome to Aachen:


The windows of the Gothic Choir; the tallest windows of any cathedral in Europe. The glass in these windows, sorry to say, is relatively new. The glass has been replaced, in total, three times - the last time after the windows were destroyed either by a hail storm or allied bombings in WWII. I can't remember which came first:

It's said that Charlemagne's bones are kept in this gilded box. A complete skeleton isn't actually contained within; only 94 bones of someone who might have been Charlemagne are present. The missing bones were snagged by other kings who were crowned in this place; I guess they took them as souvenirs, hoping to siphon off for themselves some of the greatness of Charlemagne. One hopes they didn't have any dogs:


The throne of Charlemagne, assembled from bits of what used to be the floor of a building in Jerusalem. 'They' believe this is quite authentic; this particular kind of marble is only found in what used to be Rome's eastern provinces, and may even date back to the time of Christ. On the side of the throne not shown here, you can faintly see a traditional Roman game (something like tic-tac-toe, probably played by soldiers) scratched into one of the slabs:


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A square in Aachen:


And a street:


An odd sculpture with little bronze puppets. I loved this:


A brass band playing outside the cathedral. I could swear these same people showed up outside last night's Sibelius/Shostakovich concert (a blurry picture or two from that later):


A nice little dog I passed on my way back to the bus:


Another set of sculptures:

AG was fairly nice today, though Osterhus doesn't look as spicy to me as she did in the beginning. I'm thinking of asking her to kick it up a notch; I need something to keep me alert when my afternoon nap-urge starts to settle in.
As for class itself, I learned that Wilhelm Busch was great.
A short bio can be found here: Wilhelm Busch
I've also joyfully rediscovered Heinrich Hoffmann's Struwwelpeter.
A sample from the collection: The Story of Fidgety Philip

Tomorrow afternoon I'm spending a few hours in Aachen, another historical city (larger than Marksburg, I think). I hope to come back with decent photographs but I make no promises. It's clear to me my second self, my elderly self, is very much encouraged by fieldtrips. Sometimes I'm unable to occupy myself with anything but complaints about the weather, how these damned kids have no respect, and how my dentures only really feel right when I soak them in Efferdent Plus.

Last for now, a quick plug for the old Milos Forman film Amadeus. If you haven't seen it, you must see it. Peter Shaffer's writing shines as brilliantly here as it does on any stage, F. Murray Abraham gives the best onscreen performance of the '80s, and Mozart's music is so interwoven with the film that Shaffer himself called it a character all its own.

Nothing much new happening lately. I went out to the pub on Friday and had a proper St. Patrick's day, so today and Saturday I just decided to lay low and relax before Monday. Hanging around, I've realized that certain parts of my apartment (like the carpet under my bed) are disgusting and I need to buy a vacuum cleaner. I also need to buy some dish rags because I've been going through paper towels like Howard Hughes went through Kleenex (very un-German of me.)
Also, I did finally get around to uploading the political cartoons from my first class with Osterhus. I apologize for the poor quality of the scans; I still haven't figured out how to resize images for optimal quality.

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Ludwig Erhard, great coordinator of the German post-war "economic wonder." Here he is, dapper and well-fed, rising triumphantly from a pile of bombed-out buildings:


France and Germany wrestling over the Saarland:


Depiction of life in and outside of the 'Green Zone.' Tough break, little Easterner:

Museumsmeile

I finally visited the Kunst und Ausstellungshalle (Art and Exhibit Hall) on Museumsmeile today. It was a pretty decent experience. I had a long walk around the place. A month or two before I even came here, I was aware of the Barock im Vatikan (Vatican Baroque) exhibit and was dying to see it. I was happy to be there today, but it wasn't perfect: I wasn't able to take any photographs. They're very strict at the KAH -- I had to leave my camera and bag behind. I didn't enjoy Barock im Vatikan as much as I might have because I spent half my time in there pacing around, worrying about the wallet/passport/money in my sack at the coat check. Before taking a look at Poussin, Lorrain, Watteau, Fragonard..., I ran back to the coats, got my wallet, and carried it around with me for the rest of the time. I wasn't totally at ease because my camera was still inside the jacket, but at least I knew I wasn't confronted with any diplomatic risk anymore.
I am truly sad I couldn't take any photographs. The exhibits were stunning. Everything was in beautiful condition. Some of the French paintings look as though they were finished yesterday. There were huge scenes depicting traditional myths and biblical stories, as well as allegories of death [a soiled skull, a rotting book, flames nearly snuffed].
If you've got the time, take a peek at KAH's website (http://www.kah-bonn.de) -- you can see a few images plucked from both the exhibits. I didn't buy it today, but before I leave, I may go back and pick up a book covering the contents of Barock im Vatikan -- the quality of the architectural drawings and the skill of the sculptors (their bees and lions, popes and angels) are things I wouldn't like to forget.

Below: some photos.

Kunst Und Ausstellungshalle Der Bundesrepublik Deutschland:


Banners:



A stone walkway outside the hall (a memorial, I believe, to largely gay or bisexual popular figures):

Rock Hudson


Freddie Mercury


Liberace


Miles Davis



And...

Unrelated, a weird hat. I found it on the head of an old lady riding the bus with me. It looks like some kind of beehive, or maybe the center of a sunflower. It bothered me so much I had to snap it:

The W(h)ine Tour

The photos I was too lazy to upload yesterday. After seeing the castle at Marksburg, they bused us off to one of the oldest wineries in the region. We took a short walk through the cellar (the climate in there is like no where else), after which we spent a few hours sampling some 2004-2005 vintages. The dinner was second rate (cold cheese sandwich with onions); the wine was lovely. Unfortunately for my group, I was in a foul mood upon arrival. Didn't have anything to say, sat sullen and pecked at my bread and cheese. However, eventually, after five (small) drinks, when it was time to go home, I was feeling much better.

Hills outside the winery; much taller, more imposing than they appear here:


Huge barrels (taller than I am), with candles:


Newer barrels:


Small bottle room with gate:


Close-up (through the gate):


Another huge barrel, this time elaborately carved:


Supper:

Marksburg

I went to Marksburg castle yesterday, with the other people in the program. It was a mixed bag. I think I would have enjoyed the experience more if I hadn't had to go with a huge group. It was very touristy -- thus, the photos you'll see are very touristy (though I did my best to keep them free of the actual tourists; was often close to shouting "bastards, you're ruining my shot!")
It would have been better to have done this with a friend, or with family. As many of you know, I'm frail and lazy, and often want to stop for a minute, sit down, pull myself together. You can't do that when you're in a big group, so by the end I was tired and just wanting to go home -- even thought I might pass out after ascending a particularly grueling, old-as-dirt staircase. On the bright side, I made it out with the photographs; it was a beautiful and haunting place to visit. I didn't have time to photgraph the actual entrace, which has a lot of wonderful history attached to it. You can see where, during the 30 Years War, they made the original doorway smaller - to keep rival groups from breaking in. The medieval people had a brilliant understanding of defensive architecture. The passage leading out from the chapel only accomodates one person; it was built that way very deliberately. If the castle were raided (it never has been, during its 800+ years of existence), only one man at a time would be able to pass through this doorway/staircase, giving the castle occupants more time to plan, or get away. Even the location where the chapel was built was, in a sense, strategically selected. The spot where the chapel stands is considered, structurally, the most vulnerable part of the castle; the people built the chapel there to secure God's protection for that place. I don't know how genuinely effective that was -- but the castle has made it a creaking 800 years without ever knowing the withering effects of war.

Some photographs/explanation:

The Rhine river valley, viewed from the castle/mountain:


The entrance to the castle, viewed from just inside the castle:


A very old cannon:


The valley, from the other side of the castle (photos don't do it justice; it is so beautiful, and so grand):


An herb garden; these were grown for use in spells/hexes (no, really):


I shot the sign to prove it:


The wine room:


Plaques describing the wine-making process (it's a shame technology ever progressed beyond this point):


The torture rack:


Other instruments of torture. The mask was used for/on adulterers. To the left, another mask, with a metal ball to be shoved in the mouth. To the right of it, thumb screws:


A bedroom where the nobles would have slept. I was told by the guide that they would never have actually slept lying down; that position was reserved for the dead. Might be dangerous to be found resting that way:


The chapel ceiling (another photo that does the place no justice - too beautiful, it has to be seen):


A Madonna and Child:


The chapel walls:


"The gang's all here" -- Armor worn by knights who would have occupied the castle at different times:


800-year old baby shoes:


Last but not least, a chastity belt. Not used on the wives of nobles, but on village prostitutes who'd failed to pay their taxes. The ladies were allowed to work, but had to cough it up - like everyone else - for the tax man:

Not the best day. Tension in my Unterricht (class) this morning. Frau Paust - Jutta - is not quite as cute to me now as she seemed a few days ago. It's my first instinct to call her rude; but maybe fairer to call her "blunt," or "spunky." That is something slightly difficult to get used to here; a kind of roughness that people have in their interaction. Even when shopping, the cashiers and service people are not as friendly as their American counterparts. Half the time you're as likely to get a grimace and a weary mutter at the check-out counter as you are to get a smile. Now, this is hard for me, having lived in America, where the customer is always right, and the service people are always brown-nosers. I miss those brown-nosers. I really do.
Anyway, Jutta.
Jutta is much more forward than most of the other people I've met. This morning, after I searched unsuccessfully for a term in my Deutsch als Fremdsprache dictionary and informed her that it simply wasn't listed, she grabbed the book from me and said "Ich glaube das nicht" (I don't believe that.) Am I a child? What, d'ya think I made it up? After discovering for herself that it was missing, she muttered "hm, sehr komisch" (very strange) and moved on. Could've listened to me and saved yourself five minutes, you crazy little Mädchen.
And another thing: She's far more critical of American culture than I'm comfortable with, focusing a bit too long on her critique of American military conduct at Abu Ghraib and Guantanamo ["the Americans tortured people, the Americans won't let the UN into Guantanamo." Well, thanks to Jutta and CNN World for the update, but I do live stateside, most of the time.] And a whole lot of smarmy bootlicking when it comes to the Japanese and Taiwanese students. Hell, the Korean girl doesn't even speak German and she's nice to her. ("You cook Korean food? How does one say [whatever] in Korean?")
I suppose it's all to be expected, and Jutta does mean well...in her way, but it's harder to bear when I'm not quite over the jetlag and trying to absorb everything between a Nickerchen here and there (Nickerchen - a word for a very quick nap. 'Nodding off' gives you the right sense of it.)
Anyway,
Bonn is still beautiful. I've fallen in love with a bookstore called Bouvier and will photograph it next week. I registered (as a resident) with the city today and got a bunch of free tickets to museums and other places. There's also tomorrow with the 'excursion' to Marksburg (the Westernmost city in Germany -- on the border with Belgium), and the 'wine tasting' (groooaaaan: have the impression some of the other Americans drink too much as it is.)
Still have to get those political cartoons up as well. Maybe later.
In the meantime, more pictures.
Gucken sie, bitte (have a look, please):

Weberstrasse, where I attend class


The other side of the Weberstrasse


Jutta herself


Marketplace


Second date with Frau Osterhus. Please note the polka-dot galoshes.

The first day of the rest of my Einführungskurs (orientation course). I confess I had a wonderful time today. I felt comfortable in the city, didn't come close to getting lost and interacted plenty - sans anxiety - with Germans. I really felt drawn to everything around me. All I wanted to do when I had free time was walk and explore, and I see now I will have to start doing most of that on my own. My Anglophone companions aren't really into strolling through Bonn-- they've already announced that they're 'bored' and want to book it to Amsterdam this weekend. Bored. I can't imagine how anybody could be bored. I am just getting to understand how to navigate this place and I want to look down every street and poke my head into every corner. Can't imagine wanting to leave the country when you barely know your hometown.
One of the highpoints was an Arbeitsgemeinschaft with Frau Osterhus. I can't properly describe the way Frau Osterhus appears. Physically, she's in the middle of any scale which might have "Dominatrix" and "Crack Addict" for poles. I'll include a photograph -- only seeing is believing (will try for a better one later in the week.) We're doing a survey of German political - pre and post war - cartoons. I'll scan some later -- they're worth it (unfortunately, I wasn't able to snag a copy of 'German man piss-painting Swastika into snow bank.'*)

Osterhus


Couple more images:

Bavarian-looking foosball figure


Poppelsdorfer Bike Path



*My own titling.