CH1. Life Goes On 29: Redemption for Inactivity and a Whirlwind of Events

Hello, Tim!

It felt like only hours had passed after concluding the previous letter, but I knew that I have to be back here as soon as possible since there really are so many things to talk about. This week was so chilly that frost started appearing and there was even an occasion when specks of snowflakes started dropping for around ten minutes or so.

Winter is coming.

The Trip to Strasbourg (pt.2)

Here’s the caveat first: I am unsure whether there will be a third part, given that I realized that there wasn’t rally much going on in the first part. I read through the whole column, and all I saw was an enthusiastic maniac ranting about the things he fell the instant he stepped into the borders of France. While all are legitimate reasons to keep on the ranting, it was still around seven thirty I the morning to the place where I stopped my recount; my walking tour virtually hadn’t started!

As I must have mentioned in my previous letter, Strasbourg is a place whose city scape was bound to small riveting rivers, and it is creating a small “island” as the rivers diverge and then meet, creating the Grande Île (Big Island) in the middle. Two days before the departure, I was on the Google Map laying out my plan to walk in and out of the city center. I marked all the places I wanted to go with a label called “Strasbourg 2019”, preparing to tear across the city. Unfortunately, my first booking for the room was cancelled, so the route designed to fit the location of my expected place of accommodation was no longer available, and that was when I chucked every plan for a route away so that I didn’t have to feel at all stress about the sequence of visiting.

Marks that labelled all the places I planned (and ultimately did) to visit in Strasbourg  (the one in the far bottom is my airbnb hostel)

There was a meaningful bridge called Barrage Vauban, which also functions as an exhibition above the waters. It was an enclosed, long passage that led us through a series of pictures showing African folk culture, several statues, all exhibited behind metal bars. There were also stairs that led up to a terrace, where I offered to help a group of German tourists take a picture with the background being the wide web of the rivers. I was also offered help take a picture of me, and here is the ever-awkward standing pose that is patented by me:

There are also some pictures taken by a couple with a very expensive-looking camera dangling from below the necks. I took a picture with them as well, feeling the gravity of the camera for the first time in several years. Along the river you would see houses aligning in direct contact with the river. There was also a house with a miniature pier, parked against it a small boat. Imagine if you had a house like such, and you are able to sail down the river on a fuzzy, warm, summer afternoon with your friends, having a nice chat and a splendid afternoon tea (for maximization of satisfaction, bring with you some macaroons) wouldn’t it be nice?

The "I look so awkward" yay pose.

Cathy told me that it looked like a witch's manor...

At around noon, I figured that it was about time to start my hunt for lunch. I recalled how the guys from my dorm had recommended me that I try out the escargots (the snails) from France, and I was determined to hunt one restaurant down. I was sauntering through the allies and the crowds (and also one time stumbling over a pole in the middle of a Main Street with hundreds of witnesses, making a complete fool of myself) when I took a turn at the corner and I gasped.

The Notre dame de Cathédrale was standing in front of me, its grandiose foreboding but awe-drawing, and even though this was on my plan of visit, I was not expecting to be meeting it so soon, and when I am given a surprise visit by such a grand architecture, I get really surprised. I stood there, paralyzed by the agedness the cathedral didn’t fail to project. 

Walking right around the corner and nailing myself to the spot.

A majestic scene that screamed "history"

Feeling that I had to move the tour around the peripheral forward, I took my time to dodge the stream of tourists coming from the opposite side and the people swarming around the Christmas markets. There were several controlled entrances with people lining up for the free tour in and out of the cathedral as I was just walking around the magnificent building and marveling and the delicate sculpting at each dorm-shaped structure. I made myself a promise that I would be back in the evening again. I sauntered back to a bridge next to the Barrage Vauban, where I remembered seeing several “Alcaseéen” (the cultural area where Strasbourg is located), and I entered the first small tavern called “L’oignon” after taking a deep breath, claiming to the coming waiter (still in French) that I wanted a place for one. Entailing was the following conversation: 

“Our restaurant is fully booked.” 

“I can wait for a place.”

“Unfortunately, no. It’s complicated”

I must have made a very awkward-looking face, and the waiter gave me another apologetic look, and escorted me fifty centimeters back to the doorway.

The funny thing was not that this happened, but the fact that this happened twice, in the second restaurant, with the exact same “It’s complicated” remark. My desire for food was deflating soon like a balloon, and I told myself that I had to relent that it wasn’t a day for new food should I face the same situation in the third restaurant.

The outside of the Lohkås.

Fortunately, that didn’t happen. In a restaurant called Le Lohkäs, I was brought to a seat on the second floor, which was as lively as the crowded first floor. I made my order after a while, requesting for an additional onion soup and espresso since a) I feel a bit out of place to go to a restaurant to order just a small-sized escargots and b) I wanted to see the difference between the onion soup I made and the traditional French one. One thing that was nothing me quite much when I was waiting for my dishes to arrive was seeing the waiters and waitresses standing at the front of the staircase (presumably their relaxing area) chatting with creased eyebrows. They seemed to be discussing about something about the seating or so (it was still some distance away, and I couldn’t catch any word) and I kept wondering if I did anything wrong by … being there? It went on all the way after my onion soup, escargots arrived, and it even went as far as to motivate me to ask them if I had done something impolite. But then the waiter serving me came over to me with a nice smile and asked if the food was okay, I gulped back the question fermenting at the tip of my tongue and gave him my honest answer: I loved it. The escargots were not bad at all - the butter and the fresh herbs combined well with the garlic and the slightly fishy taste of the snail, and I enjoyed it immensely. The onion soup was somehow deeper than the one I cooked while having the onions not so far-caramelized - it might be because they added some red wine when frying the onions; I’ll try making it again in the future - for that is what cooking is all about; trials and error.

Not exactly full but satisfied that I did have some food, I continued on my long-hauling trek, and I think this is where we press pause on the Strasbourg trip of the week. It seems like it takes at least another two parts for me to really be able to put a full-stop to this trip. Just bear with me a little longer.

"Capitalism Supporters = Murderers". You see some vandalism with political messages on the street.

The Flixbus that Did not Come

In case people forget, Flixbus is the long-distance bus transport service that takes passengers across borders within Europe to different places at very cheap prices. I have to relent that my first experience with this company was rather pleasant. The bus for Strasbourg came right on time and though it was not exactly a comfortable seating experience, it brought me to my destination without much fuss. For a bus ride that was just around 10 Euros, there really wasn’t anything to be picky about.

This time, however…

I reckon that I have never talk about the military shrive that I am still subject to yet. As I reach eighteen years old, I would theoretically have to join the military training for four months, but according to the Taiwanese law, I am eligible to postpone the service under conditions of pursuing academic degrees, even when the program is taken abroad. As you can imagine, that going abroad at my age also means a lot of paperwork to go through.

After consulting the military department back home, I learned that I would have to go to the Taipei Institution of Germany to have the school attendance certificate verified and bring the said document with me back to Taiwan to the military department to prove to them that I am currently doing my bachelor’s degree in Germany. Without doing so, I wouldn’t be able to return to Germany after the Christmas holiday until I am done with my military service.

I looked up the nearest Taipei Institution to Heidelberg, finding out that it is located in Frankfurt. Determined to pull through all the documents as soon as possible, I booked a ticket to Frankfurt for the day after. It seems like the Institution doesn’t have a lot going on as their working hours only spans from nine to twelve at noon. I spared enough time for me to travel over and for travelling back to catch the math class in the afternoon, which also meant that I was to take the 5:45 bus. I considered myself well-prepared, arriving at the bus stop thirty minutes prior to the scheduled departure. That was when I received a message informing me that there would be a forty-five-minute delay for my bus. Please mind that it was around zero degrees Celsius and I was incredibly sleepy from the forced-early-bird condition, which made the whole waiting experience a painstakingly prolonged one. There was an old man standing also by the same bus stop, one hand in his overcoat and the other held out horizontally, checking his watch. I asked him if he was also waiting for the Flixbus for Frankfurt, and whether he also received the notice of a delayed set-off. He told me that he got no notice but was actually in a hurry since he had to go back to Slovakia -he is a Slovakian professor of Biological statistics living with his wife in Germany, as I late learned- due to some emergency of a relative. Knowing that the bus was not coming in time, he started looking for alternatives. I used the Google Map application to help him check the next train time (which was the only alternative that made sense as the Heidelberg main station is right around the corner). I brought him over after making sure that firstly, he wanted to change the plan by ditching the possibility to catch a Flixbus, and secondly, that he was willing to pay for a train ticket that might be expensive. In the last minute, I took him to the platform with the red train waiting impatiently, the only one that would ensure that he would make it to the airport in time. Before stepping on the train, he gave me his means of communication, saying that I would be welcome to pay Slovakia a visit, and he would be giving me a tour around. 

I sauntered back to the Flixbus bus stop, seeing that there were still some twenty minutes before the bus to come according to the notice. A Japanese guy came to me with a printed-out bus ticket in his hand, hair slightly dishevelled and a backpack so tall it looked over his head. He wanted to know whether this was the bus stop to wait for the Flixbus set to go to Frankfurt. After asking him, I found that he was only here in Heidelberg as a (中間站). In the middle of his plans of travelling around the world, he only just came from Paris after three days of stay. He told me that he would be staying in Frankfurt for a couple of days before travelling to America as the next stop. The said forty-five minutes passed then, and instead of seeing the double-decker bus I so longed to see, I received another message via the application: “Unfortunately the bus that you booked for is cancelled and is unavailable to be of service. We have booked you to the next bus coming in another hour.”

That was really devastating. The sun showed no signs of sunrise at around five in the morning, and the temperature was still so unwelcoming for a person who was asked to stand there in the biting cold and wait. I chatted with the Japanese guy some more as I felt the coldness seeping into my pores sue to long duration of inactiveness.

The bus didn’t come. Not at all. I was standing there all the time and there was no sign of it. On the application there is a function with which you can check the location of the bus, and it showed that it was already well beyond our stop, heading h=for Frankfurt without even coming by to pick us up. I explained to my new Japanese friend the situation and told him that I gave up waiting and am returning to my dorm. Before that, I took him also to the main station for a ticket to bring him to Frankfurt. I then took the tram back to the school’s site, dragging myself through the hazy morning (the sun rose then), relishing the idea that I got to get some more sleep (which was the only salvation I could find for the day) and simply passed out in bed. At around eleven o’clock I woke up once again with a yawn, feeling better than ever, and walked into the empty kitchen. I texted Johannes if he wanted to have some tea, and he came out from his room. I told him the story of the hapless, eventful day as he prepared some wraps for lunch for both of us. 

I later made a call to Frankfurt, hoping to have a better picture as to what I should be taking with me, in case my next visit would still be in vain, and then I was told that Frankfurt is not in charge of Heidelberg, which is a part of Baden-Württemberg, and that I would have to go to Munich for my affairs. It meant even if the Flixbus did come, it would still be a trip in vain since the place I should be heading for is in another direction and is way longer.

Still, I couldn’t see myself doing that again, waiting for a bus whose company was so negligent with managing their buses.

The Visit to Elena

I took the Flixbus again.

I might have to skip all the excuses I might have made before booking the ticket to justify myself, for it might just take another twenty minutes and all would be meaningless ranting.

It’s cheap. That’s enough reasoning.

Continuing on the quest for some verified documents, I brought with me all the needed stuff after having a chat with my friend I know I could rely on in Munich. Elena, a half Taiwanese, half German girl who is currently living with her grandparents in Munich, enjoying life while learning German. We have been talking about paying each other visits in the near future, and this time was the time. I asked her if I could stay there for two nights, one day for the documents and one for the tourism. You might have seen me complaining about how packed my schedule had been in the previous block of studies, and you might also question my motives for even considering staying an extra day just to walk around in new places, but the thing is that Munich is a practical 200 kilometers away, and taking the troubles to go over just for several hours for documents doesn’t make sense to me.

Granted, the ride was on time this time, but the ride was around six hours, and given only one compact seat doesn’t help with the wellbeing of my spine. Elena picked me up at around eleven o’clock at the main station and we walked in the cold back to her grandparents’ place. She lives in the basement floor while her Oma and Opa (Grandma and Grandpa in German) lives on the third or fourth. It was a comfortable, cozy room matted with carpets of matching patterns. I took out the bread and apple purée I made before the trip (I hope this becomes a tradition for pre-departure preparations) and since it was so late already, I quickly took a bath and went to bed on the mattress put on the floor for me, snugging myself under the three-layer blanket.

After arriving at the tram station near Elena's place, Untermenzing, Munich

I told Johannes about my departure with the selfie from above. This was the parallel I got in return.

Love this sesame & poppy seed bread from Rewe.

The next morning, I was brought upstairs to be introduced to the grandmother. She speaks not only German but also French and Italian, meaning that I was given enough opportunity to practice my French even though I was in Germany. Elena left for her German class, and I started to head for the Taipei Institution. After filling out the form in detail, there wasn’t much left for me to do other than hand in the required documents and wait by my mailbox.

She is also a crazy soul, by the way

The Cathedral of Munich is right next to the biggest tram station of the  city.

The Taipei Institution in Germany.

With the portrait of our current president, Ying-Wen Tsai. By the way, the presidential election of Taiwan is coming in the near future.

With the main objective dealt with, I started my walking tour, seeing Munich for what it is, all the new buildings, somehow shaking off a bit of the antiquated feeling that Heidelberg has while still retaining enough to call it historical. Apparently, it snowed quite a lot two days or so before my arrival, and even though it stopped, the show hadn’t melted yet. In the Englischer Garten I walked, taking in the mélange of snow and sun as it is accompanied by the soft croaking from the brooks. I took a photo of a frosty leaf, then observed people jogging with their dogs, strolling, doing whatever people would opt to do on a sunny day in a enormous park. 

Chilly, serene, and the calming heat from the sun

"Welcome to the park," croaked the stream.

I actually had a first destination, but before that I was distracted by the crashing sound of the waves and the people surrounding the source of the sound, taking videos and photos. The map in my cellphone indicated that it was a location called Eisbach, which is literally “Ice stream” It is a stream coming from under the bridge with water flowing so fiercely people start surfing here. I later told Yun about this place, who once stayed in Munich as well for an exchange program, and he told me that he also had fun in the Eisbach. You see people waiting orderly, one by one trying to ride the tide for as long as possible, which was already an interesting to look at.

No one told me about this before, and it was a pleasant surprise.

The said destination was a recommendation made by Johannes; a building called Käfer (Literally “Bug”) with fine-quality groceries and wine. From afar you could see people filing inside the building as some came out with heavy-looking grocery bags. Immensely interested in the groceries of European country, I was recommended to come here at least to have a look. I guess no one expected me to really spend a lot on the stuff, namely a piece of Parmesan weighing 200 g that costed me 10 Euros. I simply wanted to try them out to see the difference between the normal supermarket ones and the expensive ones. 

Nurtured for more than 36 months.

The store as a whole is incredible. Some rooms of the wine cellars were designed in accordance with the wine settled inside, the dim lights giving the arrays of bottles a gloom that was entrancing. Next to the wine cellars there was a really heavy-smelling room full of cheese: the normal ones like cheddar blocks and rings of parmesan, while most of them were the cheese whose name I have never heard of. Mold grew on the surface of some types of cheese, giving it a crust that I don’t know what to feel about. Next to the cheese room was the butchery. You see a room secluded by a glass door with the remaining carcass of a cow in presumably freezing temperature, put into the baskets outside of the room were some beef sausages. Looking on the other side you would see big pieces of chicken breast that was around two times the price of the ones you can get in discounters or normal supermarkets. From that place you could also see a restaurant using the ingredients from the Käfer Feinkost which was apparently full.

The Käfer building from afar.

They are successfully selling the picture of "fine dining starts with fine ingredients."

Truffels, white, 7 Euros/gram.

Frozen room with carcasses. 

My gainings of the "raid"

It was such a beautiful place to shop in, and I am not sorry to have whatever I bought from the place. Oh, and they also have truffles. Very expensive truffles where they are counted by the grams. It was something I don’t think I would ever afford.

I was a bit hungry as I came out of the groceries, and I started hunting for lunch.

I recalled that as Munich belongs to the Bavarian area of Germany, I should probably try out the renowned pork knuckles. I went to a place for tourists to try out such dish (I am saying that it was a place for tourists because it really is.) It was more like a crowded big tavern packed with people. There was a band playing lively music, adding up to the mixture of cacophony. Apparently, we had to look for our own seats and that alone took me fifteen minutes. Having located an empty seat, I sat down with a thump. The waiter came over and said something in rapid German which I could only decently uncover that he was saying that it was a mess in the kitchen, so he could only take our orders for drinks for the time being while the food would have to wait. I ordered my sparkling apple juice (Apfel) as the two German guys and the father of an American family ordered themselves some of the renowned beers. The little girl was right in the age of playfulness, and I watched as her parents struggled to reign her in- which failed. When it was finally time for the food ordering, two hours had passed since I entered the tavern. The waiter declined my request for a pork knuckle and a set of white sausages, saying that I could finish one first before deciding if the second was still needed. The Schweinsaxe (the pork knuckle) came in another thirty minutes. At first the savory of the gravy was a bit alien to me, but when I cut into the meat and popped it into my mouth, I found them to be quite a dynamic combination. I then commerced a bit with the American family and whittled the rest of the afternoon away.

It's non-alcoholic!

Germans call it "Schweinshaxe"

An American family of four in the tavern.

Next on the tour came the Viktualienmarkt, which is a traditional market with also fine quality goods. It was a pity that the most that they offered were fresh goods, meaning that it was actually troublesome to bring whatever I wanted back to Heidelberg. 

Headless musician

It reminded me of Taiwan's traditional markets

The artichokes I should have had but didn't get

Fish saying "Ahhhhhh"

The sun dipped down at around four thirty, given that the winter solstice was getting nearer and nearer. Knowing that the evening would be when the glow of the Christmas markets started to shine, I headed over to the plaza next to the Cathedral of Munich. People knew where to go to for the Christmas glow as they also swarmed into the already packed streets. 

Dipping sun by the cathedral.

My arms started to groan for the overwork (one thing I didn’t mention was the purchase of souvenirs and how heavy they weigh altogether) but I went on with my steps as I hauled my belongings with me. It was surely a beautiful evening, but the burden dragging me down and the fatigue was wearing me thin, and that was when I decided to head back to Elena’s, which accounted for two more kilometers of walking.

Back in the basement, I showed her what I got, and she accused/thanked me of contributing to the GDP growth of Germany. After that was a soundly sleep.

The second day I woke up early and thanked Elena for her and her grandparents’ hospitality before I left. 

I arrived at the bus stop for the returning Flixbus two hours too early (but hey- Isn’t it always better to be two hours early than late?) and waited for Abhinav. I have yet to mention it, but Abhinav arrived also in Munich a day later than I did, but since the both of us were too tired to meet up, we decided to only travel back together.

Hackerbrücke

Hey Abhinav!

We both slept for a bit and were equally ecstatic that we were heading home, finally.

The Sunday Cheese Testing

One of the Sundays in the past weeks, Johannes, Yu, and I spent an evening out in a French café just to chill in some place other than the usual kitchen. The other two guys ordered their beers and I got myself a rosé. I know that I have been saying that it isn’t always comfortable when put wine and me together but being around the guys who never pressures me into drinking made it easier for me, and to an extent it was also quite enjoyable. By the way: I’m more a wine person rather than a beer person.

It was a bit dull for me, just to have some alcoholic beverage, so I flipped through the menu presented by the café and ordered something that would give the evening a different… taste.

In no time, the waiter dressed smartly brought us our plate with an assortment of cheese.

It would be nice if we were given a directory as to which cheese is which and their names, so that it wouldn’t be a dish of so much surprise and confusion. On the second day, I looked up the names and pictures of some of the most smelly cheeses just to see if I could match them up with the ones that we had, and I guessed that we had some normal ones like Parmesan, Grana Padano, etc., but at the same time I was really sure that we also had the stinky and/or moldy ones like Camembert, brie de meaux, Limburger.

The plating was note-worthy. All put around haphazardly, the pieces of cheese were looking quite tempting, when you ignore the smell emanating from in front of us. Yu and I started first, and the first brain punch given by the taste was instantaneously overwhelming. You would want to call it the smell of stinky socks but that was both inaccurate and an understatement. You see the reaction of the palate reflected by the expression on Yu’s face and also on the laugh drawn out of Johannes. It seemed like we got the jackpot on our first bite. There WERE indeed some normal cheese on the plate, but they were absolutely not the ones Yu and I picked as the firsts. We exchanged what we had in our hands and mine was definitely more stinky.

It was pretty, this plate of cheese

Johannes told us that he didn’t really start eating cheese until two years ago and was still having second thoughts before having them. But he didn’t quit. He picked one up with a flash of uncertainty across his face. He popped it into his mouth and the same expression took over. It was such a new sight, a difference from the usually composed, if not playful face of his. I silently contemplated why there are people who actually see this as something gourmet instead of chucking them away after putting a “spoiled” tag on it. The taste in my mouth circulated for another three minutes or so until it showed signs of ebbing. I then picked a soft, white cheese set in the middle of the plate with a paper-thin slice of baby radish stuck to it, which was way more welcoming. It’s got the taste of cheese that I was used to having. Yu scooped up a seemingly melted cheese that was not coming off the plate cleanly. He remarked that it tasted like seafood before making the same face when Johannes disagreed as he tried to take up the remainders but also made a face. I picked up another one that spelled “choking hazard” and took a bite. The same sort of overwhelming it was, but this time it was also sticky like you would describe toffee, but when it’s not the warm caramel taste that coated your teeth but a combination of fermented milk and unwashed clothes, it kind of changed the story vastly. I quickly took a sip of my wine and let it wash through my mouth. It helped with the initial taste but not the gooey substance that lingered and wouldn’t leave. We laughed over the fact that we are here torturing ourselves with the cheese and talking about how the waiters and waitresses were possibly deriding us for not being able to process the sophistication of cheese-tasting. I remembered hoping that the last piece of cheese with an orange coating would be at least something with a taste that the majority of the global population would appreciate, but I was let down. I think by judging it from the coating, it might be Limburger.

This was my wine rosé.

Overall, it was an eye-opening evening with perhaps higher tolerance for weird tastes (I even finished the whole 0.4 l of rosé wine because that was the only liquid that I had), and it was also the factor that drove Johannes into buying the herring can from Sweden that was notorious for how much it stinks. He said that we would be opening it up in one of the nearby parking lot and Abhidha would be the one filming the whole process. Stay tuned for that to happen in the near future.

This (Very Fatty) Food

I have to promise you, that expect for all the business that had been occupying me for most of the time, there was also adequate time for enough nourishment. Sometimes someone would also throw out ideas for cooking and we would make it happen.

Spinach-flavored Mac & cheese.

Quick-made mushroom risotto.

Apple tart that were left in the oven for too long.

The dishes that made into the list of the most calories in total would be featured here, as more will be presented in one of the following columns.

There was a burger night for almost the whole floor after Saad, a Pakistan guy, expressed interest in the beef burger Johannes and I had weeks ago. As a Muslim, he could only eat meat (expect pork) that comes with a Halal stamp, which meant it was guaranteed to be processed through a religiously-accepted procedure. One Tuesday, then, we trekked around fifteen minutes to a nearby Turkish store that sells such validated meat and got enough beef for around eight patties. We also thought about our non-beef eaters and the vegetarians (Svitlana was fasting for the advents time from what I learned.) and prepared some fried chicken filets and vegan patties in advance. A party led by Abhinav and his classmates was at its peaks several hours before our burger day officially began, and it was still incredibly crowded when we started cooking the sides. This time we also had caramelized onions and butter-fried mushrooms, fresh salad, tomato slices, and all the common appearances you see in a luxurious burger.

As predicted, we made eight beef patties out of the one-kilogram Halal beef. One thing we learned from the previous time was that if we leave the patties into the freezer for at least ten minutes, it would help the patties to hold together better.

With the party of Abhinav still going on and three different patties to manage, it was chaotic, but we managed. Mostly. Karl’s burger was a bit too raw as it was not staying on the stove long enough, which was a pity.

And this was mine. Thanks to all the help given by the other guys.

Another thing that was immensely fun was the pizza party that followed the burger day. 

As I might have mentioned, Johannes has experience with yeast and dough, and it was never a problem if he wants to prepare some pizza dough, but just like using the oven in general, it is still something new for me. This time, we were planning to feed more people, so two kilograms of dough was planned for the evening. I was slicing up all the toppings for the pizza as Johannes made the first batch of the dough and handed me the second. I found the small cubes of fresh yeast in the corner of a nearby supermarket. Putting it into a container of lukewarm water and small amounts of sugar to feed the yeast, and after ten minutes for the reaction to take place, you would be able to hear a sizzling like a fresh cup of soft drinks as you hold it to your ears. Adding it to the mixture of flour, salt, and oil, you would get a really bouncy ball of dough. It smeared my blue shirt with blots of white mark, but it was immensely fun. It was a pity that I didn’t take pictures of the customized pizzas made by the other people, but here is mine:

Mine had green bell pepper, mushrooms, tomatoes, salami on it.

I was expecting to gain some weight after two consecutive days of high-calorie intake, but as I later learned, it didn’t.

More Cooking 

I know that there are practically three week of blog inactivity, but when presented with so many things to take about, I was given no choice but to still present only three dishes for this week’s letter.

The first one would be the oatmeal cookies that was intended for Abhidha. There were days when Abhidha told us that she wasn’t feeling well. She went to the doctor who told her after examination that she was having a deficiency in iron. Since Abhidha is vegetarian, she cannot gain enough iron by simply eating more red meat, so an alternative was sought after. As oats are some common sources for iron intake, we decided to make her some oatmeal cookies. 
Still working without recipes, I made my own version of oatmeal cookie dough with what I consider was liberal amount of honey. The dough tasted sweet enough, but after baking, the sweetness seemed to have evaporated and I had no idea why. I could only speculate that the honey was long gone through the process of caramelization in the heat of the oven and hence had the sweetness taken away. I would have to make more experiments in the future.

It was a bit dry and tasteless, but I consider it good already.

The second time when Abhidha decided to made the shape on her own to save me from trouble.

Notice the heart in the middle?

Another dish would be the Borschtsch, a very well-known Ukrainian/Russian soup with potatoes and beet roots as the main component. I saw Svitlana making it once in my soup frenzy week and had wanted to be able to make it since then. This time I had her help as she gave me instructions as to when to add what, but I think the real test would come when I ultimately have to make it on my own.

Borsctsch, taught by the local.

If I remembered correctly, Svitlana also made another Russian dessert that day.

Fast forward to the day before my leaving for Taiwan. I was browsing through my refrigerator, mentally marking all the ingredients that direly required my attention or they would rot or get spoiled before I get back. I took out all the champignons, the frozen carrots, and the jar of vegetable stock (which was made with nine different vegetables and took me more than three hours; some of the vegetables were the ones I got from Mannheim’s Saturday market when I joined Johannes for some weekend trekking before he attended some appointment, which was already another story too long to write about.)

Mannheim's water reservoir.

I grabbed the said ingredients, three extra apples and the pot of pumpkin purée, and headed into the kitchen.

Yazdan, Svitlana were there, and I started cooking right after greeting them.

The picture in my head was quite clear already, as to for what sort of dish I was planning. Up until then, all my mushroom risottos were cooked with whipped cream and milk, but this time I wouldn’t be doing that, as I was looking for the original taste of the champignons. With the aid of the vegetable broth, I supposed that I wouldn’t have to worry about the blandness you get when you go dairy-free.

Anyway, the long-hauling cooking session was about to meet an end, so I called Yu from his sleep (an evening nap was what he named it) and told him that dinner was ready. I let the rice simmer a bit longer in the pan and moved on to the mashed pumpkin and apple. With a handheld mixer I made an apple and pumpkin juice, a feeble way of me to meet the fiber intake requirement of the day. Harish joined us from his room, and Abhidha came back from the city center. We chatted until it was time to move on with the day.

Note: Abhinav HATES pumpkins, or so as it seems.

Ball Juggling, in the Educational Sense

Remember how I talked about I was trying to juggle everything at the same time? Several of them fell onto the ground with a not-so-graceful thud and here is a brief account on how I managed the figurative balls that have the tag “your grades & education” on it.

So, as I said, this block had been really hectic, requesting us to do an essay, prepare for both an oral exam and a written one. Normally, I would have managed my time a bit better, but with the excessive touring and travelling I not only sacrificed two weekends but also spent some normal weekdays recovering from the fatigue. True that there were guidelines as to how we were supposed to write the essays, but I guess there was still a barrier in the back of my head in the beginning that I had to make it as presentable as possible, to an extent that I was confused as to what to do as the next step. 

As the deadline approached, I was still feeling insecure about the direction I was going in, but at the same time I wanted to do it the way I envision it unfolding and see how the score would be in the end; when you compare it with me and how I cook, it sort of made sense. At the end of the day, I handed out what I reckoned was a work with a certain level of presentability.

Library night with Abhidha.

The preparation for the oral exam was also a hard ball to juggle, with the wide range and the short amount of time I have left for myself. In the room for the examination, I was nervous about my under-preparation and I not only misunderstood two of the questions (both of which I corrected myself) but was also unable to answer one of the given questions; I wasn’t too knocked down by the result though; it was the lack of preparation that led to this result.

On the verge of melt down I took this picture of myself.

The business math was a lot easier on me. Within thirty minutes, I was able to solve the given five questions and have all of them checked once, so I am feeling quite well about the math segment of this block.

The block after the winter break is still obscure to me, but I hope to do better this one. THEN I can do what I want to do without feeling unsettlement in my conscience.

Days of Predeparture – Secret Santa

Even with all the things I had to manage at the same time, I was still nominated as the guy handling the BS9 6^thfloor’s Secret Santa Business – if you ask me I would say it felt like being handed a hula-hoop when I was already failing gloriously with the balls mentioned in the previous column. 

Surprisingly, I pulled it through – but not without the help from Abhinav, who helped me with the coordination of when the twelve people participating should meet, which was honestly the last thing on the list I wanted to do, for every time you try to make the time work for one person, the other would jump out and claim that he/she would be occupied at that time. It is the point in which I became so indecisive Abhinav helped me out. It is an ability I have yet to grasp, but I hope I do.

Gathering all the gifts around the table, the names of the receiver written on each respective gift wrapping. We claimed our own (I got a glass cup and a box of chocolate in the shape of cooking utensils, which I later learned was from Sunakshi), and we then started guessing who our secret Santa was. I was assigned to prepare a gift for Yu, which was the easiest task among all the possibilities, for I happened to know for a fact that he is a big fan of Minions, so the day I was assigned him, I went on Amazon to find something minion-related object that snugged as close as the 5 Euro budget, and he loved it.

It had never been the quality of the present or how expensive it is, but how much of the Christmas-y feeling you can derive from such a warming come-together.

Days of Predeparture – Ladenburg & There

The trip to Ladenburg was hinted by Svitlana weeks ago. Throughout the past three weeks, there were mentions about the fact that she would be leaving by the end of December. Yes, Svitlana was only in Germany for a three-month program. To go into depth, her Erasmus program was supposed to be of six months, but somehow her school back in Ukraine split it up into two parts for two students, giving three months for each participant. Svitlana took the latter part of the program and arrived in Germany at the end of September, like I did.

As a person who is still struggling to break down the mental hindrance that has been preventing me from speaking so much in German with my native German friends, A friend like Svitlana, fairly fluent but still learning the language, is exactly what I need. When speaking with her in German, there was no fear or embarrassment, for we knew that the other must be making small mistakes here and there all the time.

Making Ukrainian dumplings

Christmas watching Home Alone.

-Felt like writing some German here-

Ich habe so viel von ihr gelernt – nicht nur mit der deutschen Sprache, aber auch mit der Ukraine Küche. Sie kocht auch gern, und viele Mal haben wir (mit Johannes und Abhidha) etwas ukrainisches Essen zusammen gemacht. Ein Tag habe ich ihr auch gefragt, ob ich von ihr Borschtsch lernen konnte. Diese „Borschtsch“ ist eine ukrainische/russische Suppe, die mit Rotebeten und Kartoffeln gekocht wird. Es war natürlich interessant, besonders als ich die Rotebeten reiben musste. Klar, dass es nicht alles, das ich und die Leute mit ihr gemacht habe. In der zweiten Woche sind die Leute zusammen zur Thingstätte gegangen und sie machte mit. (Ich glaube, dass ich schon etwas darüber in einem Brief von der Vergangenheit erzählt habe.) 

Bei BS9 ist es sehr Schade, dass sie so früh verlassen musste. Deshalb wollten die Leute, vor ihrer Verlassung etwas speziell noch mal machen.

Wir sind nach Ladenburg gefahren. Das ist ein kleiner Ort zwischen Heidelberg und Mannheim und wir konnten einfach mit unserer Semesterkarte fahren. Mit so einem schönen Ort haben wir so viele Fotos gemacht (so glücklich, dass das Wetter gut war) und sie sind hier:

Um ungefähr sechs Uhr sind wir ins Wohnheim angekommen.

Der nächste Tag bin ich um halb fünf aufgestanden. Mein Koffer wurde schon gepackt und bin ich in zehn Minuten vom Wohnheim verlassen. Svitlana kam mit. Wir fuhren zusammen zum Hauptbahnhof und haben uns nicht so viel unterhaltet. Der Zug ist angekommen. Wir haben uns umarmt und bin ich mit dem Zug fern gefahren.

Zwei Tagen später davon war die Zeit, wo sie auch verlassen musste. Ich habe von ihren Sprachnachrichten gelernt, dass Harish, Yu, und Abhidha ist zusammen zur Bushaltestelle gegangen. Auch der Bus hat eine lange Verspätung und hat Svitlana großen Angst gemacht. (Johannes ist zur Jagd gegangen, oder er wäre auch da, das glaube ich) Jetzt ist sie sicher in der Ukraine angekommen. Sie ist zurück zu Hause gegangen, aber es ist gleichzeitig sicher, dass wir in der Zukunft ihr in der Ukraine besuchen werden.

End

Have I not mentioned? 

I’m back in Taiwan.

And still so much behind schedule.

Sincerely,

Hugo