In which I rant about my Visa

The Cowl is well and truly finished now and I've been happily wearing it to work everyday.  It has turned bitterly cold in Berlin.  Well, not bitterly, but cold.  Cold and wet and a few times this week I've thought that perhaps I wouldn't ride my bike to work, but I have.  Mostly anyway.  I've made a semi-deal with myself that if I can ride my bike more-or-less everyday until I go on holidays in mid-November then I've "done well" and can ride the tram to work without feeling guilty when I get back in December.  But I'm getting slightly off topic.  The point is that the Cowl is finished and I've been meaning to take a photo of me wearing it so I can post some photos this week, but the self-portraits just aren't cutting it this week and Matthias is away.

How's your week been?

I was asked recently what bothered me about German efficiency.  The honest answer would be nothing really.  It's one of the nice things about living here.  But given that the comment was essentially an open license to whine, allow me to tell you about my Visa situation.  The German Auslanderbehorde (immigration office) superficially pretends to be another cog in the efficient German beaurocratic wheel.  Yet in reality it is one of the most unfriendly governmental departments I've ever had to deal with.  The Berlin headquarters are huge.  In what one would think is the interests of communication, it assigns countries to particular departments according to the countries official language.  Australia get bundled up with the US, New Zealand and several dozen African countries.  Turkey gets its own department.  There's another department for the former soviet states etc etc. The joke is that noone who works in the respective 'language' departments speaks that language.  Everything is in German, which would be fine except that really it's not.  At one point while waiting for my Visa in January, Matthias translated a sign which explained to everyone (in German) that if they needed a translator they should bring one along as there was no in-house translation service.  It would be funny if it wasn't so tragically unfriendly and, perhaps, a mirror reflecting how Germans really feel about immigration.  Actually it would probably be funny if it wasn't happening to me.

The Auslandebehorder also has no telephone number. And it's website clearly requests that you don't show up "unannounced" but receive a writen notification of your appointment time in the mail.  Rather helpfully it provides a fax number and an email address so that you can request an appointment.  Four emails and two faxes later I'm still waiting for a response.  In the end, I know that I'm going to have to turn up and wait in an endless line to be eventually told that I should have emailed them for an appointment and the next appointment time is two months away, at which point my Visa will have expired and I'll have to start the whole process all over again.  So I'm frustrated and a little sick of German xenophobia.  Incidentally, many Germans don't actually consider me an immigrant which apparently makes them feel comfortable about mouthing-off  while I'm in the room about how immigrants are really only interested in  sponging off the government.  When I point out that I'm an immigrant who doesn't speak German very well and for all intensive purposes hasn't really assimilated into German culture yet, they look at me as if I'm stupid and say something along the lines of "we mean the other immigrants". Yeah, right.

But enough of my rant.  I'm feeling much better now that I've vented.  Thanks for asking.  Oh, and have a lovely weekend.  I'm planning on celebrating the Austrian National Holiday with Goulash and Austrian white wine imported for the occasion. Yep, Matthias and I are the "good" immigrants. Definitely.

The pictures are completely unrelated.  I was mucking about with exposure and focus on my way home from 'Eat, Pray, Love' at Potsdamer Platz.  'Eat, Pray, Love' is one of the worst movies I've seen in a long time.

Unplugging

I've had a bit of a lucky streak one way or another.  I won a lovely giveaway from Anika at Pasando, been presented with awards (thanks Anika and Jess!) and then on Saturday I found out that I'd won a spot in the Simple Soulful e-course.  I started Simple Soulful on Monday and I already love it.  I think the cosmos is trying to tell me something.  Seriously.

As a bit of a tangent to this, I had a fortune teller read my cards in August when I was in Brighton and she said that for the next three months I need to be selfish and put myself first.  Well, I'm a skeptic at heart and afterwards I thought some not so nice things about how obvious her advice was given that at the time I was running on limited sleep and a bit of stress about an impending work presentation.  Anyway, back to Simple Soulful.  The first two classes have been about 'taking care of yourself' and 'making space'.  Sound familiar?  And as I've reflected this week I've realised that I'm absolutely exhausted. It's been creeping up on me for a few weeks, but I'm pooped.  Not in a way that comes from too much work, or too much running around and definitely not the kind of exhausted you get after a day of physical activity.  Oh no, I'm the running on empty batteries, emotionally drained kind of exhausted.  It's been a tough year - amazing and fun and full of wonderful memories, but tough.

And so I've started running again.  I'm possibly the worst runner in the world, but I quite enjoy the quietness of it and the peace of just being with "me" for a little while.  And, becuase we both need a break quite badly, this weekend Matthias and I are having a mini-break up at Usedom.  A bit of a last minute decision but we're catching the train on Friday night, spending a night in Zinnowitz and will be back in Berlin on Saturday evening.  We're unplugging, unhooking, signing out and spending 24 hours on the beaches of the Baltic sea.  

What are you doing to take care of you?

Lorgarithmotechny

I stumbled across this site on Wednesday after Anglea at Striking Keys linked to it.  I immediately fell in love with the site and it resonated with me for so many reasons.

I've never been particularly good at choosing words correctly.  I have some hard-wiring issue where I have a tendency to say a word that sounds very similar to the one that I want, but has a completely different meaning.  Now that I'm trying to learn German this seems to have only amplified and I'm often found searching for words and speaking a clumsy form of english.  I caught myself saying "They have often there gone" the other day and was at once both appauled and pleased.  After eight months of struggling with German grammar it appears that I'm finally beginning to "get' word order.  The fact that I'm now using it in English horrifies me.

But back to Save the Words.  This website is a lot of fun.  With words literally jumping out and you and telling you to "pick me" I  felt compelled to adopted a word.  And, feeling adventurous, I had the site randomly select one for me.  You know what it picked? - Logarithmotechny.

If someone was deliberately choosing "my word" I'm not sure if they could have done better.  The other thing that I'm not so crash-hot at is simple arithmitic.  The other day it took me a little while to work out why, if I left 30 euro for the cleaning lady and she worked 3 hours plus needed an additional 10 euro from when we were short the previous week, why we still only owed her 10 euro and not 20.  Simple maths - not my thing.  But, and here's the irony.  Logarithms, logistic regression, hazard ratios - that's what I do.  Oh yeah, by day I absorbe myself in logarithmotechny.

winter wardrobes

Spring and summer shoes have been put away.  I have my ankle boots out and have made a list of essentials that only just made it through last winter and now need replacing.  I'm resisting knee-high boots until I really need the warmth.  On the essentials list are some funky woolen tights, long-sleeve tops, gloves and a winter skirt.  I accidentally washed the woollen skirt I bought from Anthropologie last winter and it's now felted and significantly smaller than I am.  There may have been tears.  But I'm past that now. Sniff. Really.

It still shocks me that I will need a completely different wardrobe to take me through the next six months.  I have really only ever had "one" wardrobe.  Sure I had boots which came out at winter and a jacket that I'd wear on the coldest of Melbourne days, but gloves and hats were fashion accessories and not necessities.  I got myself into a bit of a funk last winter, completely bored with wearing the same coat, gloves and hat day after day.  This winter I've decided I'm going to branch out and knit/buy some new ones so that I can mix and match and feel like I'm putting something new on every now and again.

I'm really only just starting to learn about this "living in the snow" business.  The concept of it taking 5 minutes to put on your "outside" gear drives me crazy.  No just nipping down the street for some milk - although the fact that we live on the 5th floor of an apartment block without an elevator negates that fact anyway.  Anyway, this week I feel like I'm preparing to go into battle , I'm taking a big breath of the "last summer air" and diving into long nights and lots and lots of inside time.  For all the seasoned winter people out there, what do you do to keep yourself going through the dark cold months?

there are bugs everywhere

Another week.  But kinda not, because I'm writing this on Wednesday and not Friday.  You see... I have very exciting news... I'm in Istanbul!  If I'm luck I might even get to cross the Bosphorus and venture into asia this weekend.  As much as I complain about work there are a few perks that go with the job.  I work in a small company and once a year they close the office and have a long weekend "summer holiday" together.  I'm looking forward to balmy evenings and sunny days filled with bazarres, carpet sellers and lots of mint tea.

But about my week. News this week is the bugs.  There are bugs everywhere at the moment.  It's driving me insane.  Right now there's a fly sitting on my screen.  It's been there for ages. I have no idea why it's choosing to hang out over the "publish post" button, but it is.  At least it's not buzzing around the room, which it was doing a few minutes ago.  Gah! And then there are these little black "fruit flies" that are absolutely everywhere.  They're even at my office.  I initially thought it might have something do with the pears and kiwi fruit being left out in the kitchen but their presence in my office makes me think otherwise.  And then the mosquitoes, the bees and the wasps.  To make it all worse, there are no flyscreens in Germany.   You'd think the absence of flyscreens would mean they didn't get bugs.  Nope. They (the locals) seem to just ignore them (the bugs).  But I can't.  It's driving me insane.

Hopefully there won't be any in Istanbul. Maybe.

hair cuts make me happy

I've decided to write a weekly post on Fridays reviewing my week. "A week in review".  New blog. New regular post.  We'll see how long I keep it up.  This week it's all about my hair, because it's the biggest news of my week.  Pathetic I know, but I love a good hair cut.  To be extra tricky and to keep with the theme I thought I'd be extra clever and make my photo of the day a self-portrait.  Hmmm... trickier than I thought.  This is the one that is most in focus.  So we'll move right along I think.

As I was saying, I love a good haircut.  I love everything about it.  Well, apart from the cost.  I love the indulgence of spending 2-3 hours being pampered.  I love the trashy magazines and currently I love my hairdresser.  Finding a hairdresser in a new city can be tough.  I didn't manage it when I was living in Boston.  Spent the year moving from recommendation to recommendation, always disappointed with how my hair ended up looking.  I'm not particularly fussy, really, but I have thick hair and I want it to look good.  My hair needs to be tamed with those "thinning scissors" otherwise it takes on a life force of its own and I have discovered that not all hairdressers were created equal when it comes to thinning scissors. 

Anyway, I came across my current hairdresser really by chance. After reading scores of posts on ToyTown about good English-speaking hairdressers I ended up going to the guy around the corner from my apartment.  He didn't really know how to use the "thinning scissors", but he spoke English and at the time this kind of took precedence.  And then I kept going back to him because I kept running into him on my way to work and I didn't want him to feel bad that I wasn't having my hair cut by him anymore.  And in truth ,the fact that he spoke English was still quite comforting.  

But then the last time I went he was sick and his colleague cut my hair.  Ooooh, she did such a good job.  I loved it.  I got compliments.  She used the "thinning scissors" with finesse.  She made me feel pretty, which is always a good thing when your siting in front of a mirror, staring at yourself.  I was one happy camper.  And surprisingly... she doesn't speak English!  Nope, no English.  Almost zilch. Well, zilch for a European anyway.  And I did fine.  She did fine!  We laughed together.  I learnt how to say fringe/bangs (Pony) and she learnt the English word for Scheitel (part in the hair).  But then afterwards I had the whole dilemma of what to do next time and wondered whether I could go back to her and not offend the first guy.  It took two months to make a decision, and my hair really needs cutting at least every 6 weeks, so for the last 2 weeks I was scrapping my hair back into a ponytail moaning that I needed a haircut but paralysed by the 'will I offend him' dilemma (this I know, is pathetic).  

I ended up going to the women.  It was great.  And I love my new hair.  Like I said, perhaps pathetic for it to be a highlight of my week, but there you have it.  I have a new haircut, I spoke German and it made me feel good.

Have a lovely weekend everyone! And for laughs, here's one of my favourite out-takes from the self-portrait fiasco.

ears and eyes and mouth and nose

Health, or ability, in this case is a strange thing.  You never really appreciate it is there until it's not.  I suppose this is the case with most things, but somehow it seems all the more so with health.  You take it for granted.  It is.  It always has been.  And mostly, you think, it always will be.  And then, quite unexpectedly, it disappears and all of a sudden your left with a gaping hole where once something was, which you never really even noticed before, but  now it is not.   

For the last two weeks I've been partially deaf in my left ear.  Moderately-severe according to Google.  My Ear, Nose and Throat doctor didn't tell me this, but I saw my audiogram and then googled what it meant.  I have become the patient I used to despise - googling for answers that, for whatever reason, my doctor chose not to answer.  But I digress.  What I thought was a fairly normal, albeit severe, middle ear infection ended up leaving a mark on my inner ear (the bit that does the hearing). I knew that something was wrong, but it was only confirmed on Monday when I had my first audiogram.  Essentially I had lost the ability to hear high frequency tones in my left ear. 

But what did this actually mean?  Most obviously, and ironically, it meant that everything low pitched sounded louder as my brain registered low tones and not high.  I found walking along the street an overwhelming experience - too much noise and the traffic sounded different - I was no longer able to hear the tell-tale clatter of trams passing, car engines sounded like a deafening rumble.  I would look at people having a conversation on the street and only hear half their words.  At home I couldn't hear the water boiling on the stove.  When having a conversation I would purposely stand to the left of the group so that my right ear (the good ear) could do the listening.  I struggled to hear conversations when there was any background music. 

So on Monday I embarked on a salvage attempt.  A daily anaesthetic infusion which aims to 'quieten' the sympathetic nervous system and allow the inner ear time to heal.  Every day this week I have woken up and wondered if my ear has healed.  I've listened for the water boiling on the stove, analysed the sound of the traffic on my way to work.  I have been grateful that it is "just" my hearing, and not my balance, or my sight.  I have pondered what it would be like to live like this, forever.  I have, on occasion, wished, that everyone could experience this loss to know what it is to hear.  Really hear.  I have also paid attention to my other senses - my eyes, touch, taste and been grateful that they are there without knowing what it is to loose them.

Yesterday, I thought I heard the trams and I smiled. 

Today, this morning, I had another audiogram.  The ringing in my ear remains, but my hearing has improved, neigh, it is almost normal again.  

My health is back and I couldn't be happier.

Have a lovely weekend. ox

All images from www.weheartit.com - 1. Guilhemabarf  2. Brock Lefferts 3. JeanBroc 4.Sophie

lessons for the weekend (from a 3 year old)

I was looking through my photos last night and I came across these, taken earlier this year when I had a day out with my nephew Rowan.  After a busy day of catching the train into the city, shopping and having a well-earned coffee break (with Babycinno!) I was eager to get home.  Not so for Rowan.  He insisted on a getting dizzy on the Whizzy Dizzy, and then stopping to smell all the flowers that were in bloom.  Frustrating, yes, but perhaps a lesson learned... because everyone likes that "dizzy-sick" feeling every now and again, and amongst all the business of adult-life there should still always be time to smell the flowers.

This weekend I'm planning on doing both.
  Hope you all have a lovely weekend. ox