CH1. Life Goes On 26: Strasbourg (p1) and Juggling (Sorry for the Belatedness)

Hello, Tim!
I woke up today feeling really cold from the intruding cold air that gain entrance through my open window. My mind tried to coo me back to sleep, but then the phone started ringing. Angela called and wanted to talk about random things. I like when my mornings begin like this.

Strasbourg Trip Recount

My feet still hurt.
On Friday, I was vibrating with a tangible excitement that I didn't even try to conceal. I learned that the room that I requested to book was declined, but that was soon resolved after I booked another room with little hassle (with a roundabout same price as well). With the tight-fitting schedule I didn't even have ample time to pack the things I needed, and I could only have everything I needed crammed inside my backpack after the class of the day.
I sat in the kitchen with Svitlana, waiting for my beef stew risotto to finish on the stove. She told me (in German) that she was happy for me that I would be outside for my own adventures, and I replied with what must had been a goofy sloppy smile. My Flixbus would leave at around six, but being a paranoid on such matter made me unwilling to be just on time, and therefore I left the dorm two hours prior to the scheduled time of bus arrival. If it were any given day, I would not even bother to lock the door, but since I would be leaving the dorm for a relatively long time, I fished out my keys to lock it. Weird enough, I felt a feeling of lost already, so I decided to bid farewell to the guys I am the most familiar with one more time. Svitlana went to grocery shopping so her door was left unanswered. Abhinav wished me a good trip as Abhidha reminded me to bring some tea. I would have knocked on Johannes' door as well but he left even earlier for Zurich, Switzerland, to visit his sister and niece. Here I come, Strasbourg, here I come.

After five minutes of delay, the bus came.

The Flixbus took longer than I would have liked due to my chronic back problem, but all thoughts dispersed like cotton candy dissolving in water when the radio in the bus suddenly switched to a French-speaking channel.
The sun set long ago, but with the city lights there was no way I could miss the central part of Strasbourg. The array of LED lights in the distance beckoned to me like a beacon on the foggy seas. My heartbeat didn't pick up with trepidation, but instead I felt something swell up, something inflating, something positively overwhelming. I practically bounced off the bus, a hysterical glee tinted the view in front of me with a mystical iridescent shade. Like an absolute lunatic I started reading out whatever I was seeing on the street (which was all in French) since I was all hysterical.
It took me around forty minutes to go to the accommodation I booked on Airbnb. The room I was given was... mediocre.

Leave my excitement and I alone.

Looking back, I didn't even take a picture of my room. All I did was take a picture of the apple purée I made before the trip.

I think this sentence pretty much sums up my life experience and encounters: I don't know what I was expecting.
I would say that it was the fact that I have been living in this splendid, cozy, and warm student apartment of BS9 with a fully-functioning kitchen that I can spend more than sixteen hours in that I set the standards too high for temporary stays. The place was more than habitable, but when you wanted to try cooking some water for the tea that you brought with you, dismayed to see when the bottom of the pot was coated with a layer of unknown substance. The hostess of the house was apparently not feeling chatty given that it was already almost ten in the evening. I took a seat in the dining room and brought out my jar of self-made apple purée and the big piece of chili pepper I got from Germany (It felt so weird for me as someone coming from an island country whose border is the coastline in its entirety) and started munching on it as my makeshift dinner. Johannes sent me a picture of him and his niece, and I went to bed early in order to catch an early morning for my planned walk. It turned out that I didn't even have to worry about sleeping in. I woke up for a total of two times for reasons I didn't know of. Normally I could adapt to new environments fairly easily, but I supposed that with unsettlement at the remoteness of this residential area to the center multiplied by the excitement that had been accumulating and building up throughout the week, I sprung up from my bed both at around two in the morning and at five thirty. The second time I woke up, I figured that this might as well be a good time for me to start my day of touring; after all, I was there with an intention to see Strasbourg instead of hoping for a good night's stay, wasn't I?

Interesting directory I found.

Still hindered by sleep, I dragged my body out into the chill of the early morning. The sky was still dark as the sunrise wouldn't be coming until seven or so. I wore a shirt, a sweater Mom knitted for me, and an overcoat that was supposed to block out the wind, but the cold of the morning was penetrating and rude in the sense that my hands were still frigid.
Walking through the residential area of Strasbourg I felt a bit unsettled as it was not how it was as shown in the pictures you see in the Internet. At the same time, however, I eased my antsy mind by believing in the fact that it is a tourist attraction for its own reason, and finally continued on with my five-kilometer walk.
Along the park I was walking when I came across an elder woman with a small cute dog. The dog barked timidly at me when I strode past them. My brain reacted on its own right then and I was half-conversing with the lady, remarking how cute the dog was and asking about its name. I said half-conversing because the whole dialogue was in French, and sometimes I was just throwing out the components of a sentence, grasping on the thread of hope that people of Strasbourg could understand what I was trying to express.
It was rewarding for me when she understood, and then my brain suddenly decided to do another signature somersault. I asked if the lady could help me take a picture of me. And her dog. My logical mind was telling me (and Cathy as well, after I told her about what happened afterward) that it was such a weird thing to do to basically any stranger in any given place, but the milk was spilt; do I take the picture or not?

Too bad I forgot the name of the dog.

Sometimes when you hand your phone over un hope of a good picture, you just cannot have your hopes up.

I bade the pet owner farewell, and resumed my trekking down the road. The sky brightened. little by little, and my last ounce of doubt dissipated with the morning fog as the sun shone across one of the rivers that pulses through the small city of Strasbourg.
Hello, Strasbourg.

One perk about waking up before the sun, you get to say good mor\nig to the whole city scape.

When you are in a place like Strasbourg whose landscape is a mix between water and land, you can't help but stop and marvel it.

The first macaroon that was bought by me in France; from the local Mc Donald's

This is enough of France for the week. I have to break it down into multiple parts, for there are just so many other things I would condemn myself for leaving out the details, and I simply can't bring myself to do that.

The Food and the Week of Soup

I am sure that I haven't put it into words, but I have never been a big fan of soup. back in Taiwan, I have the notion that the rice and several side dishes would suffice. Right then, I used to think that soup takes up too much space of my stomach capacity and that it made no sense as I would start feeling hungry again before long. 

This week in Heidelberg, however, my "theme" was somehow channeled to soups. No, it wasn't a craving, simply but a desire to make something I envisioned into reality, which was what I always do when I am in the kitchen of BS9 (I got myself an apron, by the way)

I remembered the beef and onion soup that was praised by my friends I made last week, and how sad it was that I couldn't share it with my Indian friends. Driven by such, I was determined to make a soup just as good without the usage of any sort of meat. Please do remark that I used to hate onions. People say hate is too strong a word, but that was the truth. To me, onions used to have a certain smelling property that was quite nauseating. Every single time I eat out I would request the waiter to leave out the onion for my dish, all the same time drawing a look of disdain and intolerance from my father. I couldn't care less, because I was happy to live my life without them. Who would then imagine that I would be using up a whole net of 1.5 kg onions for two times of making onion soup? 

The whole process of caramelizing onions took me the longest time than any other steps in creating this soup that I ended up liking, the whole seasoning of the soup can be done at the same time if you have more than one stove available. I simply have one thing to say to those who also wants to try out this type of soup: be patient with the onions; it's not difficult, as all it needs is time.

Putting up some pictures that shows the transformation: the first five minutes

The five minutes before finishing.

One more thing notable about the onions was that I learned how to cut the onions in thin slices when looking at the computer screen without cutting my fingers.

Stepping up the game for the second attempt; I doubled the amount of soup and onions and added a piece of bread as side.

Side-tracking some other things I made throughout the week: White chocolate and banana buns

Same ingredients but was made more like a pizza; slightly burnt.

Yoghurt pancakes with ham and tomatoes

Baked rice balls with pork floss filling

The second soup I tried out for two times in the past seven days (as it is already Thursday of the coming week, I offer my greatest apology) is the chestnut soup. In Taiwan, chestnuts are not often used in the cuisine expect for specific dishes, and they are more like sweet snacks you can get from the street vendors. They have a starchy texture that is more velvety than potatoes, and the sweet undertone of sweetness gets elevated as you incorporate them into savory dishes. I love chestnuts. I love them so much that I have always wanted to try make something with them when Johannes shared some with the flatmates in the first couple of weeks of my stay in Germany. The first attempt of making a paste out of it failed with a plop on the floor as I tried to put too many conflicting flavors together (it was a mixture of chestnuts, cashews, white kidney beans, and broccoli. I would rather than you don't ask.) And that time made me a bit uncertain about them for a while. It wasn't until I spent some time with friends in a simple nondescript bar with good service when I saw ahead on the menu it wrote "Chestnut soup with butter and *something*" (I forgot what it was made with) that my cogs in the "Chestnut department" croaked to life again. Two days after that, I got the white wine from a nearby supermarket and some chestnuts in Mannheim when I was there with Svitlana for the Black Friday, and everything was prepared. The Taiwanese guy was there as well. I think I admire him quite a lot, for he is also someone in whom you see a thin layer of fire called "passion for cooking" burning from beneath. He suggested that I put some onions inside the soup so it gets a richer taste. I reckoned that the soup was going in the correct direction, but I overused the onions. As the chestnuts were emitting the faint scent of its own, I upturned the balance of flavored somehow by adding a whole onion, which made me resolute to do a second one in the following week.

Chestnut soup with cream and onion.

Turning back to clock of the day of chestnuts, you would see me sitting at the dining table, silently peeling some chestnuts with my small but sharp blade when Yun slouched and dragged himself into the kitchen, claiming that he needed something "Taiwanese" desperately. I told him that we would figure something out together, and we went out to the supermarket to get some crucial ingredient after the chestnuts were done peeling.

With around 4 Euros we got a small-sized whole chicken. Using Harish's pressure cooker we submerged the whole chicken into the water-filled pot, some dried shiitake mushrooms, and we made an exceptional Taiwanese mushroom chicken soup. Yun told me how his mother would cook this soup for him every time he goes back home after long trips, and I told him how I requested that my mother make this soup for me not long before I leave for Germany, and the rest of the time was spent enjoying both the soup and watching the other guys in the kitchen at the moment getting themselves drunk.

The tomato scrambled eggs is also a very home-like dish.

Other than that, there was of course something else cooked, but they were not as mention-worthy as the soups, so, yeah. Enjoy the spotlights, soup.

Meat balls with mozzarella filling

First ever Mac and cheese

There was this day when I had no appetite for food but still wanted to cook anyway. Yun came into the kitchen and I offered to cook him something: Ham with pasta in pink sauce.

Bar Night and Mannheim

Last Thursday, the guys decided that we should hang out some place outside of the dorm every once in a while. Feeling that I would miss this scene in the future when people from my floor starts leaving after I get back from the Christmas holidays, I always make time for my virtual family over here. Abhinav was trying to get Abhidha join us, for he also invited someone from his class (a girl) and he didn't want her to be the only lady at the table. However, Abhidha was reluctant, for going to a bar is never a legitimate activity for her. She later also told me that she didn't want to be the only person not drinking alcoholic drinks. I then promised her that she should never be pressured into joining, but if she were to join, I wouldn't be ordering anything alcoholic. These beverages have never been a must for me, and, sure enough, it wouldn't hurt to have some Hugo when I am with the guys, but I don't feel like it should be a pity if I was going to order tea. With the "efforts" of the other guys, Abhidha did follow us.
It was a nice night, indeed.

Conspiring pair.

Abhinav with a candle.

On the second day, I met with Svitlana and went over to Mannheim since it was the Black Friday and she wanted to buy some gifts for her family. We two have both been struggling to find the fitting gifts for the loved ones, but I think she was ahead of me at this point. The shopping street of Mannheim was also packed with the Christmas Markets and the Black Friday in full swing. We weaved our ways through the dense crowd, marveling at the automatons on the rooftops of the Christmas markets when we passed by. Svitlana got several pieces of clothing for her mom and her sister, as I very rarely bought myself a turtleneck shirt with words written all over. I sent the picture of it to Cathy to make sure that it was indeed a men's cut, and she told me that she thought it was both hideous and what I would have chosen. Yeah, I love her, too.
I got it nonetheless, for it really caught my eye even after making sure with the price tag.
It was about time for the fun adventure to startWe then headed over to the Rewe nearby, forgetting to question ourselves why we wouldn't go back first to Heidelberg and do our grocery shopping. That was when I got the chestnuts from the supermarket.

Svitlana is the one in the light pink jacket.

Open-fire baking salmon; apparently this is a common thing in the Christmas markets.

We shouldered our fresh fruits and vegetables and hovered them over to the S-Bahn stop. We saw as the number 5 tram closed its doors and carried its passengers off. Given that it was still six in the evening, we weren't exactly worried until we read from the LED bulletin board informing us that an accident with the tram took place and would be requiring a forty-five minute delay. The screeches from the happy kids at the Christmas-themed merry go round indicated the beginning of our distress.
Svitlana looked a bit worried while I was silently glad that some adventure was taking place. She suggested that we could head over to the main station of Mannheim to catch a train back to Heidelberg and I found the directions on the phone. Then, the power bank I borrowed from Svitlana was out of juice, and my phone, the only one in our two phones that comes with Internet connection, was not far behind. All we knew was the direction we were supposed to head for, and that our next available ride would arrive and leave in less than fifteen minutes.

It was an automated deeper singing Christmas songs

At the station, I was with Svitlana when she was trying to get herself a ticket (which I didn't need at the grace of my semester ticket) when she learned that the machine doesn't take fifty dollar bills. Since I also have 50 dollar bills lefts, I turned around to the in-station bakery to but four Berliners (a kind of doughnut with jam fillings) and got change for her ride.
The travel back home had been tiring but was nonetheless fun, even though I am sure that Svitlana would prefer a calm ride back.

Inserting a random macaroon picture here.

FROZEN 2, or EISKÖNIGIN 2

Just one more thing! One more thing before I can really end this letter with good conscience saying that I have covered most of the events of the week. (Looking back, I actually did so many things when I felt like I did next to nothing; no wonder I was so tired!)

Long before hauling myself over to SRH Heidelberg, the worldwide was given access to the trailer of the sequel to Frozen, the most successful and most culturally phenomenal animation of the history. It featured Elsa, the queen of Arendelle, trying to break the waves by exerting her power of ice. It was a stunning sight, both the howling waves and the fierce, defiant look of determination in her eyes. I then decided that I was to watch this movie in the theater, no matter the price, no matter the language, no matter where I would be. 

The most proud thing I was about myself was that with the animation I was able to understand around 80% of the movie

They sure do have fabulous dresses

Here I was, in an all-German cinema, ordering a ticket for an afternoon movie, a can of sour cream & onion flavored Pringles and a bottle of sparkling water. The movie started right after I remarked silently that I was surrounded by kids and their parents with an occasional appearance of teenagers. 

Elsa and Anna brought their levels from Disney princesses into the level of queen or even goddesses. You can hardly imagine how much detail was built around the two main characters of the movie. The growth of the two characters and then the realization that hit you like a literal punch...

I cried to an extent that I was also surprised that so much tear could be shed watching a Disney movie...

End

I sometimes justified my tardiness by telling myself this is a blog kept for myself, and I am just too occupied by trying trying to juggle five big balls (school work, classmates, cooking, blog keeping, and the folks from BS 9) and many other smaller ones (visa extension, stress, and the school attendance certificate and its verification) and I really am not hold,ing everything together so well while throwing away any of them is no plausible option. This blog has some special value to me, and I have been consistent from the beginning of high school, making it the third year of blog keeping, and I am not willing to put it down now.

Visiting the Heidelberg Christmas market with my classmates after sushi.

Photo taken by Guarav.

Sincerely,

Hugo