All mice must die.

Blauen Sänger are singing a song called... well, it's an incomplete (but lengthy) sentence in German, but the title isn't important. What matters is the text. It begins by talking about all the different kinds of mice, which sounds nice, right? Field mice, house mice, water mice...

Fact: When I was little, I had a lot of books about mice (Beatrix Potter, anyone?) But specifically, there was a book called "The Biggest Pumpkin Ever." It was about two mice, one from the city and one from the country, who unwittingly fertilized and nurtured the same pumpkin (gasp)! Mr. City Mouse gardened during the day and Mr. Field Mouse gardened at night. The night before the big pumpkin contest, they found out that each other existed, but thankfully were able to resolve their socio-economic differences and enter the contest together.

(And of course they won. It was the biggest pumpkin ever.)

So this was my mindset; happy, cheery mice from different homes. That is, until we sang (in a cheery 16th C. melodic fashion, of course:)

"Alle müssen sterben und verderben!" All must die and be ruined.

This, friends, is the most stereotypically German thing I've experienced first-hand. I mean, of course the mice die, because everyone dies! All the mice die! Yes! Hyper-awareness of mortality!

Happy endings are hard to find in German lore, so I really shouldn't be surprised, but... it made me laugh until I was in tears. Brilliant.

(Speaking of mice, Heather and I saw this little guy running along the sidewalk. Blurry, but still adorable.)

^ must die.

Reality TV Pitch (also, German Dogs)

Things are going well here in Göttingen. The weather has finally taken a turn for the better (although this whole "celsius" thing is weird), class is manageable, and I've made friends who can cook for me. Being in the mental institute is really something special. Every day it proves how people from different places and different backgrounds can, under the right conditions, become friends. (God, this is turning into something really tacky... Full House teaching moment anyone?) But seriously, it's a beautiful thing, restoring my faith in humanity bit by bit. If I can play mini-golf with an Iranian and cook dinner with a Chinese guy, what can possibly stop us from solving the world's problems!? Optimism, surging through my cynical, liberally-educated veins!

Maybe we should make all the world's leaders live in an institute and learn a language that none of them speaks. Like some obscure aboriginal language from the middle of Australia, or Elvish (Liv Tyler can teach them.) And we could make it a reality TV show, I'm sure E! would be interested. Then, they would all work on their homework together and before you know it, they're solving the world food crisis (in Elvish!)

Something different:
The dogs in Germany are probably the coolest animals ever. They just trot along, leash-less, checking behind them once in a while to ensure their owner is coming. They aren't wearing sweaters, or being carried in bags, or attacking other dogs... they're so well-trained it's blowing my mind. Dogs, hanging out in restaurants! No big deal, I'll just sit here by my owner, not bothering anyone. That being said, I've only seen one cat so far, but I'll bet they're equally cool.

I'm Blau (da ba dee da ba di...)

Let me tell you why my Monday was awesome.

A woman studying here at the institute told Heather about a choir that rehearses every Monday night, with the subtext “everyone welcome” (well, if you insist.) So of course, Elisa and I both went along too, and I’m so happy we did. I mean, let’s not get ahead of ourselves here, I barely understood what any of them were saying most of the time… but hey, it turns out some choral techniques are international, like imagining a string pulling from the top of your head or throwing an imaginary dart for accuracy. You know, the fun stuff.

The choir is very small; there were about 15 girls and only 5 or 6 guys (which made for a bit of a middle-school choir balance, but it could be worse.) It's run by students for whoever wants to show up, but it’s primarily university students who attend, some of whom live in the house in which rehearsals are held. It seems to be some sort of music fraternity-esque thing. The director is a student, too, so it's very relaxed, and we sang pretty simple, 4-part songs from the 16th century. I was just happy to sing again, despite the fact that there was an entire song about a flea.

But I saved the best for last…

What is this random, user-friendly choir called?

Blauen Sänger!

Is it merely a coincidence that it’s similar to “Midnight Blue?” Um, doubt it! Clearly, it's meant to be. (Also, the director was playing Lord of the Rings music during the break, so... we're going to get along just fine.)

Hurray! I get to sing in a choir in Germany! With university students! Eeee! 

Zoo Placards: They're better here.

After years without, I visited a zoo (“Zoo am Meer”) in Bremerhaven. This city is in the northernmost part of Deutschland, so this zoo specialized in marine animals (Holy penguin exhibits, Batman!)  It wasn’t a large zoo, or a very famous zoo, but it was fabulous anyway. Yet despite the adorable seals and cuddly otters, the best part by far was the placards describing the sad and occasionally (by American standards) gruesome realities for these animals. For example, next to the chimpanzees’ enclosure, there was a fairly lengthy post about the problem of bush meat in Africa, accompanied with a photo of a monkey head in a frying pan. If this were in an American zoo, all hell would break loose. After all, how dare this zoo (that I paid my hard-earned American dollars to go to) expose my children to actual, real-world problems? I came here to ignore the world, thank you very much. That's the only way you can have fun. (And my two-year-old toddler, who can't read or develop complex thoughts, is highly offended by the graphic nature of this placard.)

Next to the polar bears, there were not one but two placards describing the effects of climate change on their habitats. They said things like, “The average temperatures will rise by 4º C in the next 50 years” or something to that extent. It wasn’t up for debate; this was presented as fact and they expected people to view it as such; not politicize it beyond recognition. I can’t recall whether it specified “global warming” or “climate change,” but it’s the principle of the thing, y'know? It was so refreshing to see something that, by American standards, is politically incorrect, posted as truth (which, after all, it is.) I mean, as fun as it is to learn about a chimpanzee’s diet, isn’t it more important to learn about the people who have no choice but to use chimpanzees in their diet?

In other news, they had strategically-placed, publicly accessible collapsible ladders for emergency use around the polar bear exhibit “in case someone falls in.” Safety first, ladders second.

Things I Assumed Germany Would Have (but they don't.)

Peanut Butter

I guess when you can buy your weight in Nutella for about 5 Euro you don’t need peanut butter... but yeah, I have yet to encounter it. Very elusive.

Fitted Sheets and Top Sheets

Take your bed sheets. Now, light the bottom sheet on fire. Since that’s now unusable, take the top sheet and tuck it in like a bottom sheet, and then just put your comforter on top and deal with it. That’s a German bed, and let me tell you, I just tried to remake mine and I instantly regret it. Thankfully, it will be re-made for me on Monday. Until then, I’ll just have to sleep in an abstract cotton rendition of a Shar-Pei’s face.

Granola Bars/Oatmeal

I've yet to find either. From what I can tell, that Muesli cereal is kind of the duct tape of breakfast foods; it works for everything. Oatmeal? But there are oats in Muesli! Nuts/dried fruit? That's in there, too! Stop whining and buy Muesli, you foolish American consumer you. (I did.)

A Wireless Network That’s Not T-Mobile

But, in fact, it is T-Mobile. T-Mobile is everywhere here. Like, people actually use it, and it’s actually a decent network or something. Probably the most foreign concept I’ve encountered so far.

In other news, I played German mini-golf this week with people from the Institute (whenever I say "Institute," it seems like "mental institution," and that... is not where I am. But, you know.) This mini-golf course was surprisingly intense. I had to give up a few times. In Germany, they just expect a higher level of average intelligence. It's pretty refreshing and only sometimes discouraging.

Later that same day, I went to see The Avengers (dubbed in German, of course.) Though a majority of the dialogue confused me, I liked the fiery explosions and the music (and at the end of the day, that's what it's really about, right?) If you haven't gone to see it yet, do. It's worth it just for that moment when the Hulk smashes that alien thing's face in, and with the music and the slow-motion... glorious.

Tomorrow, I'm visiting Bremen! (Hopefully, I'll find one of these:)

I'm in Germany, yo.

“What's that? You decided to create a blog to update people on your international adventures? That’s such an original idea, Katie. People never do this. It won’t seem clichéd or dull at all, especially if you write details only your mom cares about.” –Someone

Right, so I’m in Germany at the moment. Specifically, in a city called Göttingen (or Goettingen, for those of you who don’t know how to make an umlaut.) Even more specifically, I’m in the Goethe Institute. (I suppose that can be an umlaut too, but I think it looks better without it, don't you?) There are institutes like this one in cities throughout Germany and around the world. It's all "international" and stuff.

The Institute itself is kind of like East Quad, with a dorm, classrooms, and food all in the same building, except instead of a bunch of hippies, the people here are from every freakin' corner of the world (some are still hippies though.) My class is fairly small with only 10 people, but their homes are in Cyprus, Thailand, Italy, Colombia, China, Japan, Russia, Saudi Arabia... and then there's me, from the U.S. (obviously the premier exotic location.)

Speaking of the U.S., nothing puts our dear nation in perspective quite like walking past a tree that's been there longer than Amurrica has been in existence. Yep, there's a plaque commemorating the oldest tree along the old city wall of Göttingen that says, "planted in 1760."  

"Oh, but Katie, there are trees in America that are older than that." 

OK, you Redwood-tree-hugging sassy pants. But the city hall was built in 1270, so... there's that.

More importantly, there's a delicious restaurant in the basement below their city hall (food > history). I've eaten there twice, but as I'm writing this I just realized that people may have been whipped there, or been chained up and left to rot, or something equally medieval. Well, I suppose nothing says "Guten Appetit!" like the lingering souls of imprisoned peasants (mmm... tastes like feudalism.) But in all seriousness, the food is great in Germany. I mean, I don't ever really know what I order, so it comes out and I'm like, "Oh! It's a salad!" But it's like a game! A really fun, rather expensive game. 

Traveling here went really smoothly, mostly thanks to my companion/fellow Michigan student Heather. She’s been to Germany before and tells me important things like, “Don’t get on that train car, it's first class only!” and, “Don’t eat pizza with your hands, you look like a barbarian!” Seriously, Heather has saved both myself and Elisa (the third and final Michigan gal) from many a faux pas (woah, using a French word in a German context? This blog is raging out of control.) Elisa and I share a room, and Heather lives a floor down. The rooms are nice, everything is nice, except for the pillows (seriously, I might as well ball up a pair of gym shorts and use that instead.)

I complain, but it's insignificant compared to the wonderful time I'm having so far!

(And if there are any doubts to the legitimacy of this travel blog, let it be known that I chose the "Travel" template, so... clearly it's legit.)