I’m just going to admit it. I went home for Christmas. I “cheated” on my year abroad. And I’m sorry, but I don’t care. I had a brilliant holiday with my family and boyfriend, and would recommend going home to anyone who is near enough to.
To be fair though, I had mixed feelings as I boarded my flight back; what if everyone I’d met here had forgotten who I was?!? What if a freak accident forced my flight to land in the middle of the ocean?!? At least I didn’t need to worry about the whereabouts of my toothbrush -I’d forgotten it in Tübingen before Christmas.
I turned up in rainy, dark Tübingen late on a Sunday evening. After struggling with my enormous suitcase (cobbles and wheels don’t mix) I arrived at my halls, only to find I had no key. After miraculously finding a mate of mine, and phoning every person of authority we could think of (cleaner, gardener, receptionist, music teacher) we were left with no option but to BREAK THE GLASS PANEL CONTAINING AN EMERGENCY KEY. It was hilarious. Glass went everywhere! And thus my dreams of coming back without catastrophe and/or public embarrassment died. Not only am I now famous for decorating walls with yoghurt, but for vandalising office property. Something tells me my stay in Germany is not having a positive effect on people’s perception of the English; the head of my accommodation had a different understanding of “emergency”, and was NOT impressed in the morning.
Things have, however, only got better after that shaky start. Strangely enough, my desire to see all of Germany has decreased at an equal rate to that of my bank balance, meaning that the weekends away that marked my first two months here have now been replaced with local alternatives. I would argue this has been a positive thing- the Ritter Sport chocolate factory is a mere 20 minute bus ride away, and the saving I’ve made by stocking up on cheap chocolate will go towards similar “cultural” experiences in the future. On Sunday I happened upon the “Fasching festival”, literally by accident. I went out to buy some milk and randomly was accosted by an angry man wanting to charge me two euros to enter the part of the town centre where the shops are. When I pointed out that I’ve never had to pay in the past and took offence at him taking advantage of foreigners he started laughing and let me in for free. I feel this was quite an achievement- to blag my way into something I didn’t yet know existed. So anyway, Fasching is a traditional festival that involves a huge procession of costumed people dressed as woodcutters, animals, and witches, with lots of noise and throwing of sweets. Nobody is quite sure why they do this, but hey! It’s tradition, and was really good fun, and of course involved copious amounts of beer.
Last weekend I also visited the most organised houseparty I have ever been to which included, amongst other things, themed rooms. It was ace to experience a good bit of German dancing etiquette again and, of course, to continue my comparative research into the drinking cultures of our two fine nations. Everyone’s stressed because exams are soon, but it’s good to be back. Happy New Year!!!
