tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40884015412848057552024-02-18T21:09:08.753-08:00Bill GugertyPolitics, International Relations, and other adventures of a Fulbright Researcher in MoldovaAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14890533401627334864noreply@blogger.comBlogger29125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4088401541284805755.post-35778765379119140152013-03-28T00:25:00.003-07:002013-03-28T00:25:55.596-07:00Why does nothing happen?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
When we have the <a href="http://www.foe.org/news/blog/2013-03-worst-bee-die-off-in-40-years" target="_blank">largest bee die-off in 40 years</a>, and we understand that bees are such an essential component of ecosystems that much of our agriculture would be paralyzed without them, and we have <a href="http://opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/2012/10/19/a-simple-fix-for-food/" target="_blank">simple changes in farming methods</a> that can alleviate a good portion of the problem without uprooting the whole system with some utopian view of a network of small organic farms, why do we go on day to day doing nothing, waiting for the guillotine to finally come down on the ecosystem that supports our agriculture? <br />
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I don't have an answer to this question. I just came across the two articles at the same time and thought I'd put it out there.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14890533401627334864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4088401541284805755.post-76207522528210079322012-11-14T17:45:00.000-08:002013-03-19T04:55:31.063-07:00Review of Aerosvit<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I decided I would best spend this flight writing a critique of the airline Aerosvit and a review of what it seems to have referred to as 'food'. <br />
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As I walked past the first seats, the condition of first class rose in me great concerns of the area I would soon enter in my search for seat 22A. I passed the divider that separates the wealthy from the proletariat and the seats became less classy and closer together but I was pleased that they appeared to still have leg room and offer some amount of comfort. And then I entered the economy class. It was like walking in one of those optical illusion houses designed to trick you when you approach the back of the room to find out what otherwise appeared to be a normal door turned out to be comically tiny, and even more comical the closer to it you get.<br />
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I continued to the very last row of the craft. Seat A was in the corner. I felt relegated to inferiority as I sat beneath a missing panel, exposed wires dangling above my head. I didn't try it, but I assume the attendant call button would electrocute me if I pushed it. I was consoled by the fact that I had the row to myself. At least for a few minutes. Two fairly loud, delightful, and laughing women sat next to me and judging by the expressions of everyone they talked to or around, their language was probably lewd and quite crass. I kept seeing other passengers give me looks of pity, next to the Loud Women, in the corner, beneath the wires.<br />
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As I look down at what I hope is the Black Sea, I see some sort of land formation that actually resembles northern Poland's Hel Peninsula, and it occurs to me that it may indeed be, in some sort of Northwest Airlines fell-asleep-in-the-cockpit gaffe that wouldn't make the news because no one would be surprised. At any rate, 'Hel' wouldn't be a far off description of the experience.<br />
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The silly girl in front of me seems to be deliberately attempting to spill my coffee as she is repeatedly pushing the seat back and pulling it forward, but I'm not sure if the seat isn't doing this by itself in some unstable reaction to turbulence. She has also dropped something on my foot (I'm not sure how it manages to go *through* the seat) on no less than three occasions. I keep thinking it is a rat or other creature crawling about, perhaps escaped from someone's lunch tray, when I notice her frantically searching until I hand her her rubber band or gum package. <br />
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While I was standing in line for the bathroom just now, the aircraft--or however you describe this particular hurtling fuselage--began heavily banking to the left and right without any warning from the captain or even indications from the seat belt light. Otherwise unsure of why we would need to turn so sharply, these could only be described as evasive maneuvers. I imagine the captain was simply avoiding other Aerosvit fuselages just catapulted from airports below. At any rate, the maneuvers seemed to have had an unfortunate effect on the aim of the gentleman before me. When I returned to my seat, I found that it had been stolen by the ladies next to me. This has never happened to me on a flight before, but they kindly passed me my bag. At least that silly girl won't drop something else on my foot and I won't be electrocuted by the wires in the corner.<br />
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Pretending to be a food critic on an airplane is admittedly unfair, like kicking a sick puppy, but this puppy happens to be particularly ugly and instead of 'sick' it's 'an aircraft.' In seriousness, I simply can't *not* describe to you what I just consumed (or what is consuming me, I'm not really sure). You remember when your uncouth college roommate found something rancid under his desk and thrust it in your face commanding, "Smell this!" not because he wanted to hurt you, but because he was so deeply fascinated that the odor he discovered in the deepest crevice of his very own room was so uniquely terrible that he felt he should not be the only one so privileged to experience it? This is effectively what I am doing to you in writing. Sit tight.<br />
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As an aside for a moment, one of my first flights on this trip was on Turkish Airlines where I was provided an elegant menu of options to choose from and served an unexpectedly delectable ratatouille as the vegetarian alternative, finished with a chocolate browny, and accompanied by a decently good wine. While I wasn't expecting a second appearance of Chef Gusteau, I can't say 'baren wasteland landscape' was a description I thought would be apt as I pulled back the strangely moist tin foil from the aluminum tray bent from having been stuffed unceremoniously in what was probably a suitcase full of dirty socks.<br />
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What ever it was staring back at me was disguised as a rectangle of egg-product topped with -- pardon the childish expression -- fart cheese. I took a picture but I won't show it to you because it does not do justice. You can't see it glisten. You can't imagine yourself walking across its moon-crater like surface attacked with white alien goo. You can't recognized the expression it used as it stared up at me, offering its discontent with its ill fate, still upset about having been microwaved. <br />
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The rectangular mat didn't really jiggle, but reacted more in a sponge-like manner as I pressed the knife through its rubbery layers. As I turned a piece of it over I was shocked to see that it could further shock me with its horrifying features. While the part that was originally exposed was a bumpy pale yellow with spatterings of that white cheese substance, the underside was the nondescript and stunningly unvarying color grey, giving moon-rocks a run for their money. I took another picture of the specimen, but again, there is no justice. You can't understand from it the texture of a soggy used pumice stone and a distinct feeling that makes you wish you could no longer empathize. <br />
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The bread role was not as stale as I expected, given the performance of the rectangle, and it was well accompanied with ham slices that managed to squeak against your teeth as you bit them. The area of the tray serving as a fruit cup contained small slices of what might have been a melon if it were allowed to ripen for two more months. The tray even fell flat in providing the simplest of dishes: 'apple.' There was one thick edge of apple peel next to the premature melon, but it was significantly worm-eaten. <br />
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The plane is now in its descent (or its demise, at the moment these are indistinguishable), and I'm not sure what just happened but I managed to trade seats again with the loud women next to me and am at the moment sitting inexplicably, directly between the two ladies, us having now exercised every conceivable permutation of seating arrangement the row can offer.<br />
<br />
---I must turn my electronic device off, more soon---<br />
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The fog was so thick as we landed that I thought we were still in the clouds until we actually hit the runway. I have to hand it to Aerosvit pilots that they can handle just fine conditions lesser airlines would consider 'legally unnavigable'. Landing in much of Eastern Europe, by the way, is always delightful because the entire cabin claps afterwords, as though they didn't expect it to have gone off so well and are fully grateful for the surprise of having survived. I quite missed the clapping while traveling outside the region and indeed sometimes feel the rest of the world arrogantly taunts death by not recognizing the fortune of their survival.<br />
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As a final note, I am ending this post whilst waiting for my connection, and a piece of the Ukraine Borispol Airport just fell apart. A giant vertically sliding door both closed and opened at the same time horrifying its operator and causing a thunderous noise startling everyone and causing a large group of Jewish men to clap and burst into song. If someone is aware of the cultural nuance I may have missed here, could you please leave a comment with an explanation? </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14890533401627334864noreply@blogger.com2Ukraine48.379433 31.16557999999997737.574707 10.511282999999978 59.184159 51.819876999999977tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4088401541284805755.post-58343125289185128052012-03-11T09:17:00.000-07:002012-03-13T15:16:23.323-07:00Moldovan Borsch<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs6x886170-Ef4_W9O0or1TrhqD1cCoGJXg7sxyL07Wu7KXhHyLjlAAE-L7QZ1nbzibJTYfMNL1cBGmniOsrE4IkBYazNbRH3Jbo5qlF4PJ2CldcY4OjCbgsj2bdGHzV7WxVFdSsdU2uk/s1600/IMG_6381.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs6x886170-Ef4_W9O0or1TrhqD1cCoGJXg7sxyL07Wu7KXhHyLjlAAE-L7QZ1nbzibJTYfMNL1cBGmniOsrE4IkBYazNbRH3Jbo5qlF4PJ2CldcY4OjCbgsj2bdGHzV7WxVFdSsdU2uk/s320/IMG_6381.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ana performs the finishing touches.</td></tr>
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<b>Note:</b> This is a long post. If you want, you can just skip to the Moldovan Borsch Recipe at the bottom.<br />
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Just as there are many different spellings of borsht, borscht, borshscht, borsch, bors, and Борщ, there are many more variations on how to make it. There are Romanian, Moldovan, Russian, Ukrainian, and a billion other styles to make it, with many of these missing the key aspect or ingredient that another style claims is quintessential, lacking which makes the soup something other than 'borsch'. </div>
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Indeed, I shouldn't title this page "Moldovan Borsch" because the method and ingredients vary by household, taste, and what happens to be in the cellar -- with this last factor being the most decisive. My interest in adding this particular recipe to the stockpile came about when Ana (photographed) showed me a fermented grain culture referred to here aptly as 'bors' that is not the soup but an integral ingredient for 'Moldovan' bors. I am obsessed with fermented foods, so I was naturally very inquisitive at the sheer number of things fermenting away in her cellar, and she kindly gave me a jar and explained how to ferment more. </div>
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But when I looked on the internets for a recipe using a fermented grain culture in the soup, I was shocked there were none. The closest I came was a translated blurb of Elena Ivanovna Molokhovets' <i>A Gift to Young Housewives</i> (Подарок молодым хозяйкам), describing a recipe requiring several dead animals as well as a mysterious grain kvass (kvass being a popular fermented drink whose name is sometimes borrowed to describe almost any fermenting liquid). I'm willing to bet two kilograms of bran that the grain kvass in question here is the liquid sludge Ana gifted me. Because Molokhovets' recipe has been rendered wholly inaccessible to the modern cook by the sheer weight of time, I decided I would have Ana show me how she makes borsch. As it turns out, her process might also be considered a bit inaccessible to the modern cook, but at least you needn't kill three animals with your bare hands.</div>
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<b>------How I Learned to Make Borsch------</b> </div>
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First, I will describe the process of making it the way Ana does (or at least, happened to make it today), and the process I went through to discover this. If you would like a more kitchen-friendly recipe, I have done my best to provide one below and you may skip to that.</div>
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First, we cleaned and chopped the onions, carrots, beets, and potatoes. She used tiny onions that she said were much more flavorful. Say, something like 15 to 20 tiny onions, 4 carrots, 3 beet roots and 10-15 smallish potatoes. The onions, carrots and beets were chopped into small pieces, but the potatoes left at chunks a few centimeters in length. </div>
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We put the carrots, beets, and onions in a large pot on the stove into which was already thrown an amount of chicken fat. Ana explained that any fat will do, even just vegetable oil, but for extra deliciousness you should use some kind of animal. She happened to have killed a chicken yesterday and clarified its fat, so that's what we used. You fry those for 10 to 15 minutes, until the carrots are soft, so the beets don't 'taste like dirt', she explained. </div>
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While those were frying, we went to the cellar and grabbed some cabbage. She pointed at a raw cabbage and taught me the Russian word for 'raw'. Then she pointed at a giant vat of fermenting white liquid, taught me what I can only assume is the Russian word for 'sour', reached her hand deep into the liquid and removed several heads of dripping cabbage that had obviously been fermenting for months. She kindly offered me a bite. </div>
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She pointed at a jar of the previously-gifted fermenting grain liquid and said we would not be using it today, which disappointed me, as finding out how that was used was my very purpose in learning to make this with her. She did explain, however, that if we were using raw cabbage, we would use that to make the soup sour, but as we were using cabbage that had been sitting in its own ferment for months, additional 'sour' was entirely unnecessary.<br />
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This was the point that she located 8 different <a href="http://zachstout.blogspot.com/2012/02/care-ghiveci-vreau-sa-maninc.html">jars of ghiveci</a> from the shelf pictured in the linked post, 25 eggs, and other fermenting items for me to take home because she does not believe I eat well enough by myself. </div>
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We then added the potatoes and chopped fermented cabbage to the frying vegetables. Conveniently, as though we were on the set of a 19th century cooking show, she pointed at a large pot of already-prepared chicken stock sitting on the stove (remember the chicken she killed yesterday?) and added all of it to the pot (probably around a couple litres). Since the stock didn't cover the vegetables, she added some more water. She said you could use just about any liquid, even just water, but chicken stock makes for a delicious soup.<br />
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We threw in with that 6 black peppercorns and a bay leaf, and boiled until the potatoes were done, and that's borsch. Of course, we could add parsley and/or dill at the very end (after
turning the heat off) if we wanted. And obviously we needed to test the
soup to see if we wanted more salt, but as there was salt in the
cabbage ferment and the chicken stock, it was unclear how much, if any,
we would need. <br />
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As the soup boiled and boiled, Ana explained that if we were using raw cabbage, we would not add it right away with the potatoes. Instead, we would wait about 10 minutes and add it later, and instead of only stock/water, we would add some of that liquid I am calling grain kvass to make it sour. She also proffered at this moment that if you are червивый, you should drink the fermented cabbage water. I clearly did not know what червивый meant. She pointed at my dictionary, which said:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
червивый - 1. adj. Worm-eaten.</blockquote>
While I was rather shocked that this was the condition she was describing, I was at the same time not shocked at all that Russians, in a single common word, can eloquently describe the condition of having been partially consumed by worms. I understand that the acidity and probiotic nature of the fermented cabbage water would be a natural combatant against parasites. Indeed, this is why fermented foods are so healthy.</div>
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I will now turn to the recipes needed to make natural, healthy, 'Moldovan' borsch. As with any foods, if your fermentations smell or taste offensive, exhibit strange colors, grow hair, or otherwise indicate that the fermentation process has gone 'off', discard and start over. This condition is obvious, however, and you needn't fear fermenting something for lack of recognition of spoiled food.<br />
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<b>-----Grain Kvass-----</b><br />
<i>Ingredients</i><br />
<ul>
<li>Bran (husk of wheat)</li>
<li>Boiling water (enough to cover brain and allow for a large amount of excess liquid)</li>
<li>Grain Kvass</li>
</ul>
<i>Instructions</i><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Boil the water and add it to the bran. Allow to cool to around 85 F. Add grain kvass and keep around 85 degrees F until fermented (several days - smell it for done-ness). Store in a cool place for eternity. </blockquote>
Because grain kvass must be made using grain kvass, this presents the difficulty of obtaining the original grain kvass culture with which to inoculate your first batch. I am experimenting with ways to develop this culture from scratch, but as yet, you may need to find someone with grain kvass. The boiling procedure traditionally included seems to indicate the culture in this kvass is not necessarily that which lives naturally on the bran. Let me know if you would like to visit Moldova to pick some up. :)<br />
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I will update this page with the results of my experiments, but I imagine you could approximate this fermentation by using a sourdough starter instead of the original grain culture. <br />
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<b>-----Fermented Cabbage-----</b><br />
<i>Ingredients</i><br />
<ul>
<li>10 or so Cabbage heads, sliced in half</li>
<li>Water (enough to cover the heads of cabbage and then some)</li>
<li>Salt </li>
</ul>
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<i>Instructions</i><br />
<ol>
<li>Combine all ingredients in a large vat. </li>
<li>Come up with a mechanism to prevent the cabbage heads from floating. Ana uses a plate placed upside down on the top of the cabbage head pile, upon which she places a large jar of pickles. The pickles provide the weight, and the plate provides a surface around which cabbage heads cannot sneak. </li>
<li>You must mix the heads around and change out some of the water every once in a while for the first month. After that, just leave them all in the white liquid and pull them out when you need them. </li>
<li>Take a swig when your guts have been consumed by worms. </li>
<li>Incorporating some liquid from previous batches will probably help the culture, however it is not necessary. Nor is that convenient, as you probably won't have any left from last winter when you harvested and fermented your cabbages.</li>
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Okay, maybe this recipe isn't so "kitchen-friendly", but if you want authentic, you'll have to go get 10 heads of cabbage, a vat, and a place to leave something that might terrify guests. Actually, you could probably do this on a much smaller scale, in a one or two gallon jar if you just want to ferment enough cabbage for a couple batches of soup. Be brave and bold. Courage may be as valid an ingredient as cabbage. <br />
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<b>-----'Moldovan' Borsch Recipe-----</b></div>
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I will try to make this as exact as possible, but if you read the section above, you will note there are absolutely no measurements. This makes a large amount. You can vary the amount of vegetables and pretty much any other ingredient as much as you want. For example, many people think of borsch as being primarily made of beets. If you like that idea, add more beets, and maybe less cabbage. Do what you want; the words "optional" and "to taste" could effectively be written next to almost any of these ingredients. It's about eating something good and healthful, not exacting the arbitrary details of some recipe.<br />
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<i>Ingredients</i><b><br /></b><br />
<ul>
<li>4 Carrots</li>
<li>4 large Beets</li>
<li>2-3 large Onions</li>
<li>4-5 large Potatoes</li>
<li>1-2 Heads cabbage (sour* or raw)</li>
<li>Grain kvass* to taste (if using raw cabbage)</li>
<li>Peppercorns to taste</li>
<li>Bay leaves to taste</li>
<li>Parsley/Dill (Optional)</li>
<li>Chicken lard (or other fat/oil)</li>
<li>Chicken stock (or other flavor liquid or water)</li>
</ul>
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<i>Instructions</i><br />
<ol>
<li>Chop the carrots beets and onions into small pieces.</li>
<li>Chop the potatoes into 2-3 centimeter (1 inch) chunks.</li>
<li>Put whatever fat you've chosen in a pan - enough to cover the bottom and then some. Add the carrots, onions, and beets. Bring to high heat and then turn down to low and let them simmer for 10 to 15 minutes. </li>
<li>If you want to add meat, you would do so in step 3, and cook meat with vegetables.</li>
<li>Add the potatoes. If you are using sour cabbage, chop it into small pieces and add it with the potatoes. Combine with other vegetables.</li>
<li>Add stock to cover vegetables. If you don't have enough stock, add water.</li>
<li>If you are using raw cabbage, add it after the potatoes have cooked about 5 minutes, and then add grain kvass* to reach your desired sourness. Ana likes it only slightly sour, so you needn't think it's only authentic if the sourness kicks you in the face.</li>
<li>Bring to a boil and simmer over low heat for about 15-20 minutes, until the potatoes are soft.</li>
<li>Turn heat off and add parsley and/or dill if you have it.</li>
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* Many Moldovans don't like fermenting their own ingredients. These 'city-kids' purchase the sour ingredient at the store. Also, many recipes online labeled as 'traditional' use vinegar as a sour ingredient. I would argue that if you don't have something fermenting in a vat in your basement, it is probably not 'traditional', but if you would like to approximate the flavor, apple cider vinegar would work well and if you use still-living ACV, even better.<br />
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However, if you substitute vinegar, you are removing the healthiest component of borsch, and <strike>I will judge you</strike> I will fully appreciate your desire to simplify your cooking. Though, taking a swig of the fermentations before adding them is extremely healthful for digestion, as it provides a good bacteria for your stomach and a naturally acidic environment in which the bad bacteria (and parasitic worms that consume you) cannot easily live. </div>
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Incorporating real and fermented foods into our diets is very difficult, unless of course you happen to live in a rural, largely subsistence, society. Do what you can and have time for. The less processed flavor-chemicals you add to your dishes, the better off you will be. If you really want something adventurous and healthy, get a few heads of cabbage ferment with courage.</div>
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<b>Final final note:</b> I imagine most of my normal audience isn't going to actually ferment their grains or cabbage. However, if you would like more information on local Moldovan fermentations, let me know in the comments or contact me - I'll write another post of what I've learned here where winter survival necessitates fermented foods.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14890533401627334864noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4088401541284805755.post-9259229385393966312012-03-10T00:28:00.000-08:002012-03-10T00:30:12.640-08:00Atlantic Community - NATO Opinion Piece<a href="http://www.atlantic-community.org/index/" target="_blank">Atlantic Community</a> is an organization working to build a stronger Trans-Atlantic community, especially among the young as future leaders. The website has an <a href="http://www.atlantic-community.org/index/Open_Think_Tank" target="_blank">Open Think Tank</a> that publishes opinions for review and further commentary and periodically promotes essay competitions and publishes the results. I submitted an opinion piece for the <a href="http://www.atlantic-community.org/index/view/Your_Ideas%2C_Your_NATO" target="_blank">Your Ideas, Your NATO</a> competition (still accepting submissions for some categories) which was selected for publishing and can be found at the link below.<br />
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<a href="http://goo.gl/uXoIy" target="_blank">Gerald Gugerty: Smart Defense through Smarter Community </a><br />
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In the piece I argue briefly how NATO should work with other international organizations to discover and help mitigate the future sources of security threats rather than just 'treating the symptoms' through missile defense. The organization should consider why defense may be needed in the future - that is, in response to food security or environmental threats and other factors. Feel free to join the discussion and post your comments at the link above.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14890533401627334864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4088401541284805755.post-60585605456388797362012-02-17T05:19:00.002-08:002012-03-13T15:16:47.097-07:00So what do you *do* here?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This is a question I get a lot:</div>
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"So what exactly do you <i>do</i> here?" </div>
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Said, of course, with the requisite emphasis on the second 'do' so as to indicate a presumption that the answer may be "Nothing", a la <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2SoWNMNKNeM" target="_blank">The Bobs</a>. So, six months into the program, I'll finally describe what it is I <i>do</i> here, first with a bit of explanation about the Fulbright Program itself.</div>
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Because the Fulbright Program's purpose is simply 'to increase mutual understanding between the people of the United States and the people of other countries', it leaves a lot of freedom as to how the the three types of Fulbright participants will work to achieve that goal. The three types of Fulbright participants are </div>
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<li><b>Fulbright Scholars</b> - Professors at US universities who teach at a host country university for about one term,</li>
<li><b>Fulbright Researchers</b> - Graduates who perform research on a variety of topics in the host country, and</li>
<li><b>Fulbright English Teaching Assistants</b> - Graduates who teach English in the host country.</li>
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I am a Fulbright Researcher and my topic relates to the state of the microfinance industry in Moldova (this will have to be a different post). Notice, though, that the goal of the Fulbright Program does not include furthering research. Rather, the role of the researcher is a mechanism through which the program achieves its goal for mutual cross-cultural understanding. By placing Americans abroad, they are providing host-country citizens a personal face to what is otherwise be a stereotype often developed from an exported entertainment and fast-food industry and YouTube videos. </div>
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Without this personal face, someone whose main source of exposure to the US is YouTube and the entertainment industry may not experience a side of the US that is <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zqi0DwNLJdM" target="_blank">smarter than a 5th grader</a>, knows that Europe is a continent, and can <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lj3iNxZ8Dww" target="_blank">form a competent sentence</a>. These are funny videos, and as a result have gone viral, but if this is the only type of 'culture' the US exports, then anyone exposed to it will naturally have a pretty low opinion of that 'culture'. By providing cultural exchanges like the Fulbright Program and a number of programs that offer non-US-Citizens to study in the US, the US government is able to counteract the perceptions propagated by funny viral videos, among other things. This is of course, an oversimplification, and only describes a part of the program and its purpose, but I don't want to spend too much time on this right now.</div>
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All this is to say that, while my research proposal is the reason I was selected to participate in this program, it ends up taking up somewhere around only half of my time, and in some weeks, even less. Instead, in addition to research, I actually teach two classes at my host institution, the <a href="http://ulim.md/en" target="_blank">Free International University of Moldova</a> (ULIM - pictured above). I teach Public Finance and Basic Accounting at the university to a group of bright first year students studying International Economic Relations. Anyone who is familiar with academia in both the US and Eastern Europe is aware there is a strong difference in teaching styles between the two regions, so I greatly appreciate the efforts my students have shown to participate in (put up with?) my vastly different teaching methodologies. </div>
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I also participate and present at conferences, evaluate and interview applicants of students applying to study in the US, facilitate English language conversation hours, and, of course, prepare a lot for the courses I teach at ULIM, all this while trying desperately to grasp the Russian and Romanian languages. I also try to get around Moldova to see more than just its capital, whether it is research-related travel, for a program I am working with, or just to visit friends in the countryside. </div>
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As you can see, it's not easy to describe what I do here in one sentence, so it often gets lost in details or in translation. So this post is just a small attempt to shed some light on that subject.</div>
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<br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14890533401627334864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4088401541284805755.post-72185223374009565242012-01-08T05:13:00.000-08:002012-01-08T05:15:47.774-08:00Popcorn - Guest Blogger on 365<span style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><a href="http://www.365peaceandfriendship.com/events/pcv-events---december/december30th-popcorn"><span id="goog_2022387429"></span><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-QEz4FYhFZL1qbz3zEnL17MQmc5B2rLeJ105emkrCQjzx9xha1em4sVsktxcFOLTCr0McqSifNaOgOiuXwQWnBmEhrX-qZbSMY26iylD67NeNXx3Co2Cy5wzEfken6swBp3VEX2hb0hY/s200/IMG_5228.JPG" width="200" /><span id="goog_2022387430"></span></a><span id="goog_2022387424"></span><span id="goog_2022387425"></span><a href="http://www.blogger.com/"></a></span><a href="http://www.365peaceandfriendship.com/">365PeaceAndFriendship.com</a> is a blog put on by Peace Corps Moldova to celebrate the 50th anniversary of Peace Corps' existence. Every day during the year they post an article from a guest blogger in Moldova, and I was invited to write a post for December 30, 2011. Click the link to see my post.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://sites.google.com/a/365peaceandfriendship.com/365peaceandfriendship/events/pcv-events---december/december30th-popcorn" target="_blank">365 Days of Peace and Friendship: December 30, 2011 - Popcorn</a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14890533401627334864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4088401541284805755.post-51183744770571495832011-12-11T09:17:00.001-08:002012-03-13T15:57:44.245-07:00The Nonexistent Millionaires<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8DZUxJN9FsZWJfpu95fW9eWFCnRX8LoXmeVSDCE4W-oYMryZXA8ftDFMufd-R56-nx93mQGuD28pv8Rq_bJNXdEq50N9naHXe9VTdXMfcxMGKlknXaIujCnYJxqZQ2_W0mAAm96_tZwE/s1600/Boehner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8DZUxJN9FsZWJfpu95fW9eWFCnRX8LoXmeVSDCE4W-oYMryZXA8ftDFMufd-R56-nx93mQGuD28pv8Rq_bJNXdEq50N9naHXe9VTdXMfcxMGKlknXaIujCnYJxqZQ2_W0mAAm96_tZwE/s200/Boehner.jpg" width="149" /></a>The GOP opposes Obama's jobs bill because they believe a provision to tax the wealthy, dubbed the 'Millionaire Surtax', takes money from small businesses and thereby prevents them from hiring more people and creating more jobs. <br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
''Over half of the people who would be taxed under this plan are, in fact, small business people,'' Mr Boehner said. ''And, as a result, you're going to basically increase taxes on the very people that we're hoping will … create jobs. That's the real crux of the problem.'' <a href="http://www.smh.com.au/world/boehner-slams-obama-over-jobs-bill-20111107-1n3ry.html#ixzz1gFVkI3jP" target="_blank">[1]</a></blockquote>
Boehner's argument's strongest claim is that because of the way small businesses file taxes (most as entities whose income 'flows through' to the personal tax returns of the owners), these businesses will be subject to the surtax as their business income will appear on their personal income statements. This has important implications, as everyone agrees small businesses are the drivers of the US economy. The US Small Business Association indicates that:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"Small firms:<br />
-Represent 99.7 percent of all employer firms.<br />
-Employ about half of all private sector employees.<br />
-Pay 43 percent of total U.S. private payroll.<br />
-Have generated 65 percent of net new jobs over the past 17 years..." <a href="http://www.sba.gov/sites/default/files/sbfaq.pdf" target="_blank">[2]</a></blockquote>
With this information, the a tax that would affect small businesses could indeed have repercussions on the economy. That is, however, only if the tax actually affects small businesses, defined by the Small Business Association as those with 500 or fewer employees. If defined by revenue level, they operate with average annual receipts of $7 million or less, with some industry exceptions. <a href="http://www.sbaonline.sba.gov/contractingopportunities/officials/size/summaryofssi/index.html" target="_blank">[3]</a><br />
<br />
Let's consider a sole proprietorship or a wholly owned S-Corporation (a small business that has only one owner). To be a small business, and thus, be included in the 99.7% of all employer firms that have generated 65% of net new jobs in the recent past, it would need to have gross receipts of no more than $7 million in normal circumstances. These are the largest of small businesses; most fall somewhere far short of $7 million. For any business to be affected by the 'Millionaire Surtax', it would need to have $1 million in net profits flow through to the income of the owner. Therefore, the largest of small businesses at $7 million would need to both be wholly owned by one person, and then also have a net profit margin of at least 15% in this economy. With decreasing size and increasing number of owners, the profit margin would have to be even greater. <br />
<br />
Furthermore, exceeding $1 million by $1 does not throw the businesses entire net profit into the new category. The way progressive taxes in the US work is that amount <i>in excess</i> of the income threshold is the amount that is exposed to the higher rate. For example, for a small business that manages to provide $1.1 million to its sole shareholder, the 2% tax would only be applied to the additional $100,000 <i>in excess</i> of $1 million, and this mythical individual would have to pay an additional $2,000, a rather small amount for a business owner who just made $1.1 million. <br />
<br />
It is no wonder NPR could not find a single <a href="http://www.npr.org/blogs/itsallpolitics/2011/12/09/143398685/gop-objects-to-millionaires-surtax-millionaires-we-found-not-so-much" target="_blank">millionaire small business owner</a> who opposed the tax: they almost don't exist (or are at least exceedingly scarce). <a href="http://www.npr.org/blogs/itsallpolitics/2011/12/09/143398685/gop-objects-to-millionaires-surtax-millionaires-we-found-not-so-much" target="_blank">[4]</a> The fact is most small businesses are smaller than $7 million, have lower profit margins than assumed above, and in the case of partnerships and S-Corporations, have more than one owner across which those earnings would be split. Each of these factors makes it that much less likely they are passing through a million dollars to (each of) their owners, and much less likely they will be subject to the tax on the wealthy.<br />
<br />
So if your millionaire small business owners don't actually exist, or are at least extremely small in population, who is it, Boehner, you are trying to protect? <br />
<br />
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-----------------------------------------<br />
<b>References</b><br />
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[1] Mann, Simon. "<a href="http://www.smh.com.au/world/boehner-slams-obama-over-jobs-bill-20111107-1n3ry.html#ixzz1gFVkI3jP" target="_blank">Boehner slams Obama over jobs bill</a>". Sydney Morning Herald. November 8, 2011; accessed December 11, 2011.<br />
[2] SBA: Office of Advocacy. "<a href="http://www.sba.gov/sites/default/files/sbfaq.pdf" target="_blank">Frequently Asked Question [PDF]</a>". Small Business Association. January 2011; accessed December 11, 2011.<br />
<div>
[3] SBA. "<a href="http://www.sbaonline.sba.gov/contractingopportunities/officials/size/summaryofssi/index.html" target="_blank">Summary of Size Standards by Industry</a>". Small Business Association. Accessed December 11, 2011. </div>
[4] Keith, Tamara. "<a href="http://www.npr.org/blogs/itsallpolitics/2011/12/09/143398685/gop-objects-to-millionaires-surtax-millionaires-we-found-not-so-much" target="_blank">GOP Objects To 'Millionaires Surtax'; Millionaires We Found? Not So Much</a>". December 9, 2011; accessed December 11, 2011.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14890533401627334864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4088401541284805755.post-1041617630520958162011-11-03T06:08:00.000-07:002011-11-03T06:09:26.998-07:00A Year Undocumented<br />
<div class="p1">
<br /></div>
<div class="p2">
<a href="http://www.californiaeminentdomainreport.com/uploads/image/First%20Birthday.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://www.californiaeminentdomainreport.com/uploads/image/First%20Birthday.jpg" width="200" /></a>People keep asking me when I will update my blog. I admit it has been a while. In fact, my exciting foray into not posting ever turned 1 last week. On October 29, 2010, I posted my last post, and fully meant to write another post every day since then. Heck, I even meant for this to be an actual anniversary post, posted on the date of the anniversary, but I didn't get to it on time, which I suppose is the root of the problem to begin with...</div>
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Now I find myself in a conundrum. If I do another post, what should it be? It seems I should say something of my week in Korea for my brother's wedding. Certainly I should mention I'm in Chisenau on a Fulbright Grant, given that at some point in the past I changed the look and title of my blog to indicate that information. And tons of people are probably wondering what it is that I actually <i>do </i>here. Indeed, I could write on any of the following topics:</div>
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<br /></div>
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- Graduating from an MA.</div>
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- Traveling through the US.</div>
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- Obtaining a Fulbright grant.</div>
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- Moving to Chisenau.</div>
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- Learning Russian.</div>
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- Experiencing Moldovan medical care.</div>
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- How much I loathe strongly flavored cheeses and their persistent manner of sneaking their way into sandwiches that might otherwise be delicious when I am hungry.</div>
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- Other things like that.</div>
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Hopefully, I will write on one or two of those topics, but don't get greedy. I would much rather you see the list of topics, pretend that you've read a post from me on each one, and attribute to me the humor, insight and/or other intellectual stimulation you experienced in that reading. So here's to my commitment of actually updating this otherwise dormant space I occupy on the internet. Hopefully soon, it will again abound with interesting and funny little articles. If it isn't, you'll just have to use your imagination like I said, be amused, and pretend that I wrote it whatever it was that amused you.</div>
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<br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14890533401627334864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4088401541284805755.post-6841359510421090652010-10-29T06:15:00.000-07:002010-10-29T11:23:49.423-07:00BREAKING NEWS - CEU Library Lifts Ban on Water ConsumptionIn a rare announcement the CEU Library indicated it has lifted its blanket ban on the consumption of water within its borders. The change in policy represents a dramatic shift in the regime's stance on allowing anything substantial to occur within the library walls. The announcement, released earlier today via the GroupWise communication system, indicates that water may be transported in "bottles," defined as plastic, sealable, non-breakable containers, across the threshold of the Library in recognition of the "need of Library users to remain hydrated." <br />
<br />
Few individuals have access to the Library's mysterious ruling elite and such communications are rare. Speculations of a coup have arisen and the move may be a sign of internal power struggles, according to sources familiar with the matter.<br />
<br />
For a regime that requires that all readers be stamped indicating personal ownership, separate forms for each personal item entering the premises, and a blanket ban on all jackets, liquids, foods, or any other source of personal comfort, experts wonder what the lift of the water embargo could mean next. The announcement makes it clear that alcoholic drinks will remain prohibited, but students wonder if they might soon be free to wear jackets. <br />
<br />
Observers fear the announcement will incite a backlash of student emails over GroupWise, both praising the decision and also exhibiting concern for water conservation practices. The excess consumption of water under the new rules may lead to the depletion of the Danube River as a water source and discrimination against Keanu Reeves. Experts believe the debaters will inevitably compare one another to Hitler.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14890533401627334864noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4088401541284805755.post-28361121556876916452010-10-06T07:29:00.000-07:002010-10-06T07:29:55.366-07:00Lamp Fixing.I was quietly reading away in my dorm room when a knock came upon my door. Not expecting anyone, and having heard Hungarian spoken behind the door, I assumed it was dormitory maintenance or housekeeping and removed my plant from the forbidden windowsill, upon which nothing may be placed, for fear of it hurtling through the glass on its own accord to the injury of unsuspecting passers-by.<br />
<br />
I answered the door, and two gentlemen stood there. One said, "lamp fixing!" I looked at him quizzically, as my lamp was fine and required no fixing. The other seemed to want to offer clarification, and said, "lamp fixing! Bathroom!" Realizing I was going to get no further information from them, I stood back and invited them in.<br />
<br />
I turned on the light to the bathroom, expecting them to see the fully functioning light fixture and determine they must have had the wrong room. Instead, they looked up at the fully functioning light fixture and seemed to conclude it required fixing. I didn't want to question, so I simply went back to my reading as they began 'fixing' the lamp on the ceiling.<br />
<br />
They finished their job and left, each politely saying 'goodbye' to me. I said "Köszönöm," to thank them for fixing my lamp, which neither was broken, nor operates any differently than prior to their handiwork.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14890533401627334864noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4088401541284805755.post-81875538267837034002010-10-02T06:56:00.000-07:002010-10-02T10:52:41.624-07:00Here, in Budapest.I must apologize for not having posted in ages, specifically for having created a blog to which I have precious little time to actually post. However, I will do my best to write amusing little anecdotes from time to time.<br />
<br />
Allow me to introduce Budapest and Central European University. It is a beautiful city and a wonderful university. The CEU building itself was built, most likely, by the very same architects as Hogwarts. It is comprised of what used to be several buildings, all remodeled to create one interconnected maze. Spiraling staircases abound, and, I am convinced, they do in fact move. One particularly narrow one ends as it progresses <i>into</i> the ceiling. Presumably, there is no purpose to continue a staircase <i>into</i> a ceiling, so one must conclude that this was not the original design, and the ceiling was added later. One cannot deduce, however, <i>why</i> this is the case.<br />
<br />
There are plenty of nooks in the interconnected buildings that comprise the campus that surprise you when you find them, and that you may very well never find again. For example, we just came across a small passage off a hallway. Immediately, the small passage turns right, and then immediately proceeds through a small archway. On the other side of the archway is a chair. That is all. There is approximately 2 square meters of space inside the whole of the passage way and chair space combined. Presumably, it is there so one may sit, if they are tired, inside of a hole. If you do so, however, passers-by who happen to see you will surely mentally note that you are a creep, if they don't outright scream at the eerie sight of a man sitting upright, in the dark, in a not particularly comfortable chair, under an arch, at the end of a short, meaningless passage. <br />
<br />
A sign close to the entrance indicates the hours of a cafe in the basement. It fails, however, to indicate you must pass through catacombs of dungeonesque brick archways to arrive there. Thankfully, if you are lost in the basement, you need only follow the sound of the loud, awful club music to find the cafe.<br />
<br />
Peppered throughout the buildings, one can't help but notice small, stone recesses in the walls. I would assume they used to be fireplaces that have since been plastered over, but it seems odd to have put them in hallways, in staircases, and other random places. I would not be surprised to learn they used to be passages for elves.<br />
<br />
That's all I have time to write for now. If I find other strange rooms, I'll be sure to let you know, that is, unless I am eaten by a three-headed dog in the process of attempting to escape.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14890533401627334864noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4088401541284805755.post-40659752410295807782010-07-02T02:17:00.000-07:002010-07-27T23:09:04.627-07:00Ginger.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRJNpm5BgiqYqy9PugPqZUOJkggTYmVESfDsPXsNMwlSyzKK7rYksgdNjSbOgsnlR5mb5pFmGM2AyTteaN7QcutakydBmAoLf0VsfTvJeipwxahC0C0i1bjjrE-oI_hjr50OaGPYPuMdw/s1600/4-up+on+2010-06-28+at+21.55+%235.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRJNpm5BgiqYqy9PugPqZUOJkggTYmVESfDsPXsNMwlSyzKK7rYksgdNjSbOgsnlR5mb5pFmGM2AyTteaN7QcutakydBmAoLf0VsfTvJeipwxahC0C0i1bjjrE-oI_hjr50OaGPYPuMdw/s320/4-up+on+2010-06-28+at+21.55+%235.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Ginger is my dad and step-mother's dog. I'm not sure if they named her Ginger because of the reddish tint of her tan hair, or in honor of his five red-headed children and fondness of South Park. I like to think the latter.<br />
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Regardless of the source of her name, beyond her hair, there is nothing "gingerly" about her. She is part Rhodesian Ridgeback. My first thought when I heard this, was that they had actually found a dragon from Harry Potter. Rather, it turns out she is something that is also known as an African Lion Hound. This is because they were bred in South Africa to hunt lions. Let me repeat that.<br />
<br />
They were bred.<br />
In South Africa.<br />
<i>To hunt lions. </i><br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a>But don't worry, she's not a pure Ridgeback. No. The pure breed of a creature with the propensity to take down voracious lions would be too much. Thankfully she has the calming traits of a monstrous Rottweiler. These creatures, on the other hand, were bred in Germany to haul carts laden with butchered meat. Let me repeat that. <br />
<br />
They were bred.<br />
To haul carts.<br />
<i>Laden with butchered meat.</i><br />
<br />
This means that "Ginger," a dog who weighs almost as much as I do, is historically bred to pull dead things behind her as she hunts lions and may or may not actually fly and breath fire. One is reminded of her calling every time she is taken for a walk. She mistakes squirrels for lions and me for carts of dead meat. Of course, so would a passer-by after seeing me dragged to the end of the block in hot pursuit of a Fierce Texan Squirrel. "LIONS, Ginger!" Yells the cart of dead meat. "Not squirrels. LIONS!" Such episodes of lion-mistaking occur on occasion, often to the bemusement of neighbors.<br />
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Of course, she doesn't need a squirrel to mistake for a lion. Sometimes she just goes nuts for no reason. Check this out:<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dy8zm0s_lJ_nLwDciOee5g_-vXC0b6sRy8oO7XVop_F9XZv4wNHDcU9ppE1z4hzl0CdXaK59gt7vajmSwq6pQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>Nothing provoked this. She just went nuts and started chasing nothing around the bed.<br />
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These: <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWqNDXFYQP2t19SsHe8nWwatrNFOzCroTHQ0pxBMCdiHttxLEY1-SIhmUO0tozdNOpbPY_cCg14whfIKPYSKNLzuYdAffl6um3iDeY15ytNU5QTamTT8jdTD-v-bxyKPyTZ6N_0eWsF3M/s1600/4-up+on+2010-06-28+at+22.05+%234.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWqNDXFYQP2t19SsHe8nWwatrNFOzCroTHQ0pxBMCdiHttxLEY1-SIhmUO0tozdNOpbPY_cCg14whfIKPYSKNLzuYdAffl6um3iDeY15ytNU5QTamTT8jdTD-v-bxyKPyTZ6N_0eWsF3M/s200/4-up+on+2010-06-28+at+22.05+%234.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<br />
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<br />
<br />
<br />
are her teeth.<br />
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<br />
When I sleep, if she wants the pillow, I let her have it.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">I play fetch with her mostly in interest of self-preservation. When she brings back the toy, she does this weird thing where she confuses the toy with my foot. I do not expect to have all of my toes when I return from Texas.</div><br />
When she growls, it means she's playing. This is not intuitive. When she's playing, you think she is about to go for your jugular. For example,<br />
<br />
this: <br />
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzdFQrv8jvxQqRs5bhRlodBbWP-pRFulgbU3YAWnvEhAHNNOSfSBQrga7BZFcuevqbZEKHLtxGqw5xqoSI0BQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br />
is her. <i>Playing.</i><br />
<br />
<br />
It's not just that she growls that's unsettling. It's that nature of the growl. The deep, guttural, angry nature that can inherently only mean, "I am not happy with what you are doing, and you should stop this activity before I crush you." If only the UN Security Council could growl like that. Seriously. <i>No one</i> would enrich uranium. That is, of course, until they found out the council would chase any thrown object like its a fierce Texan squirrel.<br />
<br />
In all honesty, she's very sweet and wouldn't hurt a fly. Well, that's not true, she'll eat a fly at first chance. She might think they are also lions.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3nNsidjNZ7-GV-8lsFFJUF9-xI4sKd9cqfioDiO4piFKMtU0WphbcPvUKvkiLGyo8nCSM1p-4_H1JI5EQDPm_LbUdtpWOvQj_BhCSyyeKtVZKQqZGlipbkXZU9Pr04AnHlCcMo5X2Ias/s1600/4-up+on+2010-07-02+at+21.04.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3nNsidjNZ7-GV-8lsFFJUF9-xI4sKd9cqfioDiO4piFKMtU0WphbcPvUKvkiLGyo8nCSM1p-4_H1JI5EQDPm_LbUdtpWOvQj_BhCSyyeKtVZKQqZGlipbkXZU9Pr04AnHlCcMo5X2Ias/s400/4-up+on+2010-07-02+at+21.04.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14890533401627334864noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4088401541284805755.post-88870390295441585352010-04-26T21:41:00.000-07:002010-04-27T20:21:05.187-07:00The News and The BlogAs many of you know by now, Central European University has accepted my application to study there with a Partial Fellowship. I will be studying International Relations and European Studies with a focus in Political Economy. The program starts in September and I will likely leave the United States in August of this year. Check back on <a href="http://billgugerty.blogspot.com/p/plan.html">The Plan</a> page for the most up to date schedule of my departure and my summer plans.<br />
<br />
CEU is located in Budapest, Hungary, and I will spend about one year there starting this fall to obtain my masters. This news is obviously what has inspired me to create this blog and certainly with the theme it has. I had considered other titles, like HungaryForMore and BillsStudyOfTheEffectOfTheApplicationOfReductionistScienceOnTheImplementationOfInternationalDevelopmentPolicy. The second one was, of course, already taken. So I was down to HungaryForMore or Billa the Hun.<br />
<br />
I decided to go with Billa the Hun as an obvious throwback to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Attila_the_Hun">Attila the Hun</a>, the 5th century leader of the Huns who raided all of Europe including the Roman empire and as far east as modern day Spain and became known as the Scourge of God. I chose the theme because of the clever ability to use "Billa" and because of the cool old-school map of Attila's Empire pictured above. That, and my continued disdain for the international policies of the late Roman Empire.<br />
<br />
As I type this, I'm amused by the Google Ad to the left that shows "Actress Videos, Photos, and Clips" as sponsored links. A friend informs me that when clicked, they take you to sites of ill-repute, so be warned.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14890533401627334864noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4088401541284805755.post-74146238207710372042010-04-24T23:24:00.000-07:002010-04-29T16:43:19.532-07:00Old German PostsMy previous foray into blogging notwithstanding, I intend to actually update this one. My old blog was on LiveJournal, the Friendster of blogging websites. LiveJournal probably still exists, but nobody has gone through the trouble of finding out. It's that age old question: If a website is on a server, but nobody has accessed it in 5 years, is it really still there? I like to think not, but usually I am proved wrong when someone finally finds an old website or journal of mine and embarrasses me with it, reminding me that information online, even if ignored for a length I thought would suffice, does not in fact disappear. <br />
<br />
For the convenience of not having to link to a website that philosophically may not exist, I have reposted the German entries from LiveJournal below. You will easily note which posts are from Germany or Hungary by looking at the date. As you might have guessed, I was in Germany in 2005. You will also note that I followed the convention of titling the posts in German. This will likely not continue in Hungarian.<br />
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I hope you enjoy the posts. They are quite old and reminisce of being 20 and leaving the country for the first time. Hopefully the adventures will continue.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14890533401627334864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4088401541284805755.post-64602914402183602032005-05-16T01:54:00.000-07:002010-04-29T16:11:14.138-07:00Schönen Pfingsten!It's Pfingsten Day today so we have no classes. Ten days ago it was Christi Himmelfahrt, so we had no classes. I like May; school is apparently not very important this month.<br />
<br />
Christi Himmelfahrt can be translated as the "Jesus Heaven-Travel," I'm assuming this is the Ascension. But to Germans, the important part of this day is not that Jesus, following his resurrection from death, physically floated, body and soul, from the earth, ascended into heaven to be seated at the right hand of God the Father... No. It's beer. Wheel barrels of it.<br />
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This is the tradition: Drink. All day. With the family.<br />
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Father's go out with their sons and drink a wheel barrel full of beer. You may think that when I say "wheel barrel" that I am simply exaggerating to give you an amusing mental picture of entire German families pushing wheel barrels with beer bottles everywhere. This however, is exactly the picture you need to have to know what happens every year to commemorate the Ascension of Christ. You could replace beer bottles with kegs, but the wheel barrels stay.<br />
<br />
I suppose the tradition could have something to do with Jesus. Perhaps the Father-Son aspect of pushing the wheel barrel comes from the well documented, yet unpopular, theory that Jesus did not actually leave his disciples because he thought his time on Earth had come to its rightful end, and that they were ready to spread his word across the world without him--but that he wanted to drink a wheel barrel of beer with God, his father. And thus, Germans celebrate this day by drinking wheel barrels of beer with their fathers, as Jesus did, two-thousand years ago. WWJD? Drink beer, apparently.<br />
<br />
And now it is Pfingsten. My dictionary informs me that this means Whitsun, Pfingstmontag means Whit Monday, and Pfingstsonntag means Whit Sunday. Whit the hell? I have no idea whit any of this is.<br />
<br />
Ten days after the Jesus Heaven-Travel places this holiday at the Pentacost. So whitever the dictionary says, I'm calling this day the Pentacost. Unfortunately, there is no exciting tradition around this holiday, other than that everything is closed. I assume it is merely the day commemorating the end of the ten day hangover God had from the heavenly sized keg in the angel-pulled wheel barrel.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14890533401627334864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4088401541284805755.post-44442504688031474972005-04-28T10:58:00.000-07:002010-04-29T15:57:58.822-07:00Du bist ein HENGST!Amy bought a book about horses in German. We were going through translating it and found out that the word for "Stallion" is "Hengst. We thought it would be fun to say, "Oh, you stallion, you!" or "You're a stallion!" in German, so I told Amy that would be "Du bist ein Hengst!"<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
Later that day, Amy asked some of my German friends if that's something one would actually say. And they looked at her a little taken aback by this question coming from Quiet Amy B. Turns out, it has a much stronger, more sexual, one could say, <i>lusting</i> connotation. <br />
<br />
It was described like this to Amy B: "You might as well lie down on your back and open your legs." This rather blunt statement was followed by a German nearly mounting her, and commencing a repetitive sexual humping motion.<br />
<br />
Fig. 1.1: [Insert Mental Picture]<br />
<br />
As shown in Fig. 1.1, this is not a good thing, and Amy B will surely never again utter the phrase, "Du bist ein Hengst," and it will probably be a good while before she musters up the courage to mention the word stallion.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14890533401627334864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4088401541284805755.post-64531459798868401922005-04-25T16:09:00.000-07:002010-04-29T10:06:04.175-07:00Scheide.You know how sometimes people get bored of saying the same thing over and over again, so they come up with new words to express what they mean?<br />
<br />
Well, in German, "Scheisse" means "shit," and "Schade" means something like "Too bad." And after a while, you get sick of saying the same things over and over again, so Antti decided he would combine them to come up with his own new word: "Scheide." <br />
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If you speak German, you're already laughing. If you don't, keep reading. <br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
You see, it turns out to have the most unfortunate meaning ever. Especially when you recall how many times you've said it out loud in public. <br />
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We had thought it would be the equivalent of saying something like "Shite" in english; it's not really word, but people will know what you mean, and it's your own clever creation...<br />
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Nope. It means "Vagina."Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14890533401627334864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4088401541284805755.post-44716951949274038242005-03-09T20:49:00.000-08:002010-04-27T22:26:36.631-07:00Wie viele Erdteile gibt es in der Weldt?When trying to teach a group of people another language, you have to begin with a subject that everyone knows and can agree on. So my teacher asked the class, "How many continents are there in the world?"<br />
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Surprisingly, this is not one of those subjects.<br />
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<a name='more'></a>"Seven," I answer, proud that I not only understood the question but also knew both the answer and how to say it. She looked at me like I was stupid and waited for someone else to say the correct answer. Apparently when you are in Germany, there are only five continents. <br />
<br />
North and South America are only one continent because they are clearly connected by a small strand of hair. Europe and Asia remain separate despite the dozens of nations that don't know if they are in Europe, Asia, or both. And Antarctica? Where's Antarctica?Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14890533401627334864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4088401541284805755.post-62958068815573027002005-03-02T15:37:00.000-08:002010-04-27T21:02:51.063-07:00Sherlock Holmes und der verschwundene Löffel!When most of us think of Europe, we think of a land of a generally more accepting people. It didn't take the national guard to desegregate schools and none of the countries are led by people who actually hate gays, and blame them for all of the problems of society.<br />
<br />
Well, a lot of people are like that, but sometimes you come across someone who may or may not have grown up in a hole.<br />
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<a name='more'></a>My neighbor, for instance. We share a kitchen together along with another girl from Poland. We each are given a cabinet, and a small section of the refrigerator.<br />
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Well, when I first looked through my kitchen, I saw a few signs saying: <br />
"THESE ARE MY PERSONAL BELONGINGS. PLEASE DO NOT USE."<br />
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While it wasn't exactly welcoming, I figured someone was a little cautious of their stuff, and wanted to make sure that none of it was broken. I was fine with that.<br />
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Well it turns out even better. The only reason she put those signs up was because she thought I was Spanish.<br />
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"We germans have our prejudices!" She tells me.<br />
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I wasn't sure why she didn't like the Spanish, but I could safely assume it was one of the following reasons:<br />
<br />
A) One bit her when she was young.<br />
B) One stabbed her in the refrigerator.<br />
<br />
And using Occam's Razor (Whatever's more likely must be the cause), you can easily arrive at the conclusion. That's right, you guessed it: B. Some Spaniards stabbed her in the refrigerator. Her food was spoiled and she had to wait a whole week before the Hausmeister replaced it.<br />
<br />
This is, of course, a perfectly logical reason to hate the entire Spanish race, and it clearly explains why Spaniards can't keep milk from spoiling: When one sees a fridge, he is irrevocably inclined to stab it.<br />
<br />
And so, thinking I was Spanish, she of course HAD to write the notes, hoping that they would deter my compulsion, at first site of her knives, to stab the refrigerator.<br />
<br />
This incident aside, a few days later, she asked me if I had taken her coffee mug. I had not. At this point she assumed that "The Polish girl" had stolen it. Long story short, the cup came back and all was well in the kitchen again. <br />
<br />
About a week after the fateful day I now remember as "The Coffee Mug Massacre," I peacefully entered my kitchen. She and her friend were just sitting down to eat. Looking back, I am convinced that her friend grew up in the same hole she did, and if not, it must have been one just as deep and close by.<br />
<br />
My neighbor told me she had another question to ask me. I assumed that something else was stolen. Having had nothing better to do that day, she found herself counting her spoons--and yes, ONE WAS MISSING. <br />
<br />
I believe it was at this point that she transformed her physical and mental being into Sherlock Holmes. Wearing an overcoat and hat, she now looked at me through a large magnifying glass and questioned:<br />
<br />
"I had six spoons and now there are five, have you done something with my spoon?"<br />
"Are you sure you haven't seen my spoon?" <br />
"Have your friends seen my spoon?" <br />
"Will you ask your friends if they have seen or misplaced my spoon?"<br />
"Have you seen the Polish girl using my spoon?"<br />
"Have you seen the Polish girl's friends using or misplacing my spoon?"<br />
<br />
Having not been fond of the Spanish, I was surprised that she used their tactics of Inquisition.<br />
<br />
At this point her friend, I believe her name was Watson, chimed in, "I bet it was the Polish girl." She informed us. "I heard they steal for the Russian Mafia!"<br />
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Sherlock seemed to agree and stored this jewel of information away as she would undoubtedly need it to prove her case against the Polish girl in court.<br />
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Elementary, my dear Watson, elementary.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14890533401627334864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4088401541284805755.post-40832855475149665632005-03-02T15:31:00.000-08:002010-04-29T09:36:29.968-07:00Möchten Sie den Menü?In conversation with German people, I tend to rely heavily on cognates. That is, a word that sounds the same in English as it does in German. For example, Bett is Bed, Katze is Cat, Pflanze is Plant, Bier is Beer, Haar is Hair, and so on.<br />
<br />
Well sometimes a word comes up that bites you in the ass because it's a freaking lying cognate.<br />
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For instance, I went to Burger King the other day and tried to order food. I asked for a "Nummer Sechs, bitte." (No. 6, please). And the man asked me if I wanted the "Menü." <br />
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No, I thought, the menu is written right above your head, you twit. So I said, "Nein, danke."<br />
<br />
"No drink or fries?" he asks.<br />
<br />
"Yes, a Fanta and Country Potatoes," I reply, wondering how I could possibly ask for the meal and not want the meal with it.<br />
<br />
"So you want the Menü?"<br />
<br />
"No! Just the Burger, the potatoes and the Fanta."<br />
<br />
Somewhat frustrated he rings up the order and tells me the price. I look at the register and see that the price is the same as the Number 6 written on the MENU that's right above his head.<br />
<br />
Well, turns out Menü, here, means Meal. <br />
<br />
So when he asked if I wanted the Meal, I said "No, I want everything that's in the Meal!"Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14890533401627334864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4088401541284805755.post-87815310291672654532005-03-02T15:22:00.000-08:002010-04-29T07:38:19.833-07:00Der Euro.As if it's not bad enough that I cannot understand the total cost of what I am buying and must take extra time to read something that the clerk has just said to me, I must fight with the denominations the Euro comes in.<br />
<br />
The paper money comes in denominations of 5, 10, 20, 100, and even a 200. There's probably larger, but under no circumstance will I ever be able to hold one in my hand.<br />
<br />
Despite the paper Euro coming in different sizes and colors, and resembling something out of a monopoly game, I can handle it well enough. The coins, however, were forged in Hell.<br />
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They come in denominations of 2, 1, .50, .20, .10, .05, .02, and .01 Euro. And as if this isn't painful enough, the back of each coin is different, according to which country of the EU cursed the world with its creation. <br />
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I believe this was done for the sole purpose of extending the amount of time that Americans and other foreigners to Europe spend in front of the cash register.<br />
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One must always then be sure to look at the front of the coin first, then count all the numbers in their head, and make sure this matches the number on the register, before handing over the coins to the impatiently waiting clerk. <br />
<br />
So when I need to pay someone, I generally hand them a bill, and get a butt-load of 200, 100, 50, 20, 10, 5, 2, and 1 -cent pieces back. <br />
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And let me tell you. Germans are not exactly the most patient of the world's people. So you can always tell when someone is not from Europe by the bulging amount of change they carry with them in their pockets.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14890533401627334864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4088401541284805755.post-53978329201595903652005-03-02T15:21:00.000-08:002010-04-27T22:35:45.502-07:00Könnten Sie bitte mein Brot shießen?Here in Germany, every time you turn around there is either a Bakery or a cell phone store. They're both like Starbucks. I can't imagine why there is such high demand for cell phones, but one bite of the bread and you understand why you never have to go far to get a loaf.<br />
<br />
Usually in Germany, you just go to the bakery (any one of your choosing) and grab a loaf of the bread you want out of a pile of loaves. These loaves are neither wrapped nor sliced, and are usually still warm. It's wonderful. You then take your loaf and, without a word of German necessary, you wave it in front of the clerk and they will eventually tell you how much you owe. At this point you look at the register, because it has numbers you actually understand, and unlike the clerk, it does not speak to you in German.<br />
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<a name='more'></a>At the beginning of my stay here, I was content with my full, warm loaf of bread. I would take it home and either just rip large chunks off and eat them with Nutella, or I would daringly use my neighbor's bread-knife (but only when she's not looking, lest I be accused of theft--See "Sherlock Holmes und der verschwundene Löffel") and attempt at cutting myself some slices that fit in the toaster. <br />
<br />
It is during this time in my life that I have realized the full importance of the saying, "That's the best thing since sliced bread!" You can never cut a slice that is just the right size to fit in a toaster, yet not so small that it falls apart in your hand.<br />
<br />
I had made a discovery by watching the man in front of me at the bakery. You can actually ask the clerk to cut the bread for you! The next visit to the bakery, I was determined: I would have my bread sliced!<br />
<br />
I had done my homework, I looked up all the German words regarding bread and slicing so that I could ask the clerk to slice the bread, and perhaps retaliate with a German response if I was attacked with a question in return. <br />
<br />
"Könnten Sie bitte mein Brot shießen?" I asked the clerk.<br />
<br />
She looked at me a little funny (which isn't entirely odd in Germany), took my bread, and started the machine that cuts it into perfect toaster-fitting slices. I was content. I had asked her something in German, and I was well on my way to achieving my goal of sliced bread with only minimal effort on my part.<br />
<br />
She told me the price, I looked at the register to find out what I owed, and payed. I then walked proudly away with my accomplishment in full display for others to see, as if to say: "That's right! Look at me, you Germans! I <i>too</i> can have sliced bread!"<br />
<br />
My friend saw my sliced bread and pleaded me to tell her the magic words I spoke that delivered me such a wonder. I repeated my treasure, "Können Sie bitte mein Brot--" It was at this exact part of the sentence that I realized that I did not, in fact, ask her to <i>slice</i> my bread. <br />
<br />
I asked her to shoot it.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14890533401627334864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4088401541284805755.post-5287877655264329252005-02-03T13:28:00.000-08:002010-04-27T22:31:22.998-07:00Was suchst du in deimem Wörterbuch?If you are caught looking up a word in your dictionary in my class, the teacher will ask "Was suchst du??" meaning, "What are you searching for?" and when you tell her, she will make an attempt to convey the meaning of the word to you. This is all good and well, but she doesn't speak any of our languages. So the class quickly becomes an interesting game of charades. It gets even worse when the other students who don't speak your language are the ones that understand the word, and they all start acting the word out. <br />
<br />
So for instance, let's say the word is Fußarzt. The class quickly becomes a game of Catchphrase from Hell. You have two options: Wait till you understand the word (which is unlikely) or just say "Ach so!", look enlightened, and pretend to write the meaning of the word down in your notebook. I usually choose the second, which sucks just as much, because the teacher will make you use the word in a sentence. <br />
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<a name='more'></a>But lets say, for once, I actually understand the meaning of the word. Let's say it means "Water bottle." I think this to myself to commit it to memory and I write it down for future reference. I also must use the word in a sentence in class. "I drink the water bottle." Note the lack of the preposition "from" as I do not yet know it in German.<br />
<br />
At this point the class looks at me weird and I am saved by the noise of either an ambulance or a rooster. The teacher never fails to point out the passing of a Krankenwagen, or the crowing of a Hahn. She also goes around the class and makes the students "say" the noise that each makes in their home country. You see, American roosters go "Cockadoodledooo!" Turkish roosters make a noise I can't spell, or even distinguish from their regular conversation. And the German rooster by my dorm makes a noise like it's being beat with a stick. The point is that each culture mimics the noise in their language differently. <br />
<br />
Well, I say I was "saved" by the distracting noise because as it would turn out, Fußarzt does not, in fact, mean "water bottle." It means "foot doctor." Yes. Foot Doctor. So, in my infinite wisdom I exclaim to the class: "I drink the foot doctor."Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14890533401627334864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4088401541284805755.post-14145976574842375072005-02-02T21:55:00.000-08:002010-04-27T22:21:46.068-07:00Arschgeiger.The word in the subject, "Aschgeiger," is a relatively common German insult. <br />
<br />
It means "ass-violinist."<br />
<br />
Yes. That's right.<br />
<br />
Ass...Violinist.<br />
<br />
This is what you call someone if you don't like them. An ass-violinist. I hope this is one of those sayings that ends up crossing the Atlantic, because when I get back, I sure as don't want to stop calling people ass-violinist.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14890533401627334864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4088401541284805755.post-50366970640375374772005-02-02T21:54:00.000-08:002010-04-27T14:07:57.209-07:00Freunden.I've made a good number of friends in the weeks I've been here. They are presented below in random order along with their nation of origin in brackets and a bit of info about the name's pronunciation. <br />
<br />
Molly: [USA] Of all of the names below, this is by far the hardest for a German to pronounce. She says "Molly" about twice, gives up and says "Mully," which they immediately understand. This is the Eighth Wonder of the World.<br />
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<a name='more'></a>Ugur: [Turkey] Pronounced with a Soft G. This sound does not exist in the English language, so I cannot tell you how to pronounce it. Whenever I try, I end up saying "Uhr" which means clock. So I just say "Ugur" like it's spelled and he looks at me with a wince of pain and answers my question.<br />
<br />
Antti: [Finland] When two consonants appear next to each other in the Finnish language, there is a pause in the word. So the name is pronounced An....ti. We honestly thought he was just confused when he first told us his name and immediately butchered it into Anti. It's kind of like the Finnish word for Frog: Sammakko. Yes. You pause twice while saying Frog. Sam....mak....ko. It seems to me that one would die of old age before getting a whole sentence out, but apparently a whole culture follows these conventions. (Antti, ich weiß, dass du das lesen werde. Es ist nur Spaaaaßßßßhaaaabeeen!)<br />
<br />
Ufuk: [Turkey] This is pronounced nothing like the terrible word running through your head, you terrible, terrible person. I really can't describe how to pronounce it, but usually when people say it, I say Gesundheit! because I thought they sneezed.<br />
<br />
Ferdi: [Bulgaria] Ferdi doesn't speak any English. I take that back. He can say the following phrases:<br />
1) "Congratulations" - except, this is said in a weird tone that makes you think you might have just blown someone's head off.<br />
2) "Fire in the hole!" - I found out he knew this phrase on an elevator that made a weird clunking noise. I told him not to do that again.<br />
3) "Counterstrike" - A video game. His other English phrases suddenly make sense.<br />
<br />
All I know about Ferdi is whatever random snippets of his life he can convey with our limited German. He may or may not be wanted by the Bulgarian Military. I think I need to learn a few more words before I find out what that's all about.<br />
<br />
Kristi: [USA] Pronounced like it's spelled. What do ya know. <br />
<br />
Nathan: [USA] Says he will go by Günther here because the "th" sound does not exist in the German language and he is therefore called Natan or Nazan. Yes, "Günther" has a "th" in it, however, it is pronounced like a T. <br />
<br />
Marie-Louise: [Germany] Yes! I do know a German! This is my assigned buddy. She is the most wonderful person. She helped me survive my first week here (see Bürokratie!) and she's a hella lot of fun to be around.<br />
<br />
Irene: [Germany] Mully's assigned buddy. Also a lot of fun. I don't see her often though. She's one of those people that knows absolutely everyone that goes to the school, so I assume she's busy. She was in a play we went to see, and I assume she did a good job. It was in German.<br />
<br />
Muhammad: [Tunisia] Lives across the hall from me. Does not speak english. Asking him to join us for dinner the other day was very difficult. I was telling him we were having spaghetti, and I knew the German word for spaghetti is Spaghetti. So I said "Wir haben Spaghetti." He didn't get it. Molly came by and I was like "Oh! you can talk to him!" because they both speak French. So she said the word spaghetti in French, which is "Spaghetti." What do ya know? He immediately understood. This is the Ninth Wonder of the World.<br />
<br />
Et al.: [Various Regions] I've met a good number of other people here, but don't have enough time to write them all here. Nor do I know how to spell their names.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14890533401627334864noreply@blogger.com0