Things Departments Should Tell You Before You Research Abroad

I have been living and researching in Munich for over a year now. During this time I have realized that I was in no way prepared to deal with all this entails. Talking to other grad students who are on fellowship and researching at foreign institutions, I have discovered that my experiences are not unique. So here is a list of things I wish I had been told before I was sent off into the wide world to try to write a dissertation.

1. You are going to feel like a moron most of the time.  This is going to come as a shock. You have probably become accustomed to feeling pretty intelligent. After all, you are working on your PhD and you have just won a fairly prestigious grant.  It is going to be difficult to have your ego bruised nearly everyday as you try to understand a different culture and language. Just dealing with the hiccups of daily life (e.g. disputing phone bills, making photocopies, arguing with the person who just cut in front of you in the line, trying to return something to the store) is going to be tough at first. You will have check out clerks and children look at you like you are a drooling idiot.  Old women will wonder what you are doing in the country if you can’t speak the language well. Although you will learn and adapt over time, about once a week something new will be thrown at you and you will be back to feeling like an idiot. Solution: There is nothing much you can do, besides steeling yourself in anticipation of this.

2. Even if you studied the language of the country you are now in, it is going to be insufficient to speak about your project in an academic way.  Solution: Prepare in advance several sentences that describe what you are doing. (I should still do this).  [Also, practice smiling and nodding in the mirror. It will get you through receptions or field trips.)

3. Most people are friendly at the libraries or universities where you will be working. Don’t be afraid to ask for help. Of course there is always going to be some ass hat who is going to make things difficult. He or she will invariably be in charge of the resource you need most. Solution: find out when it is his or her day off.

4. Everything is going to take longer than you planned. Period.  Just don’t be surprised when this happens.

5. An important archive, object, or building you need to see will be inaccessible until the day after you leave. Solution: There isn’t any. Fate is a bitch!

6. You are going to need some sort of document, permission, library card, or pass from Office A. To get this you need to go to Office B for Form 1, which is on the east side of the city. Office B will send you to Office C (in the same building but only open on Mondays from 9-12) to get Form 2 to request Form 1. When filling out the form you find that you are going to need passport photos and a letter from Office A.  After getting this, you will take all of the documents, forms, and photos to Office D (north side of the city), they will stamp the form so you can take it back to Office A to get the thing you originally needed. Solution: Be prepared to do a lot of walking and queuing and buy some comfortable shoes.

7. If you are being paid in Euros, the dollar will get stronger.  If you are being paid in dollars, one Euro will be worth about 2 bucks. Solution: Emergency Pizza will save you money and keep you from starving.

8. Grants will rarely be enough to support you, but they will insist that you do no other form of work or take no further grants. Solution: Emergency Pizza.

9. You will realize that your department has not prepared you to use archives. Solution: get names of students who have worked there in the past and they can tell you what pitfalls to avoid. Or don’t pick a project that requires lots of archival research (Now you are thinking!)

10. You will also discover that you have no idea how to write a dissertation. Your advisor is going to offer vague suggestions while making concrete deadlines. Solution: Just accept that you will figure it out as you go. I have also learned to stop expecting that it will be brilliant and groundbreaking. This is a learning experience and something that you have to get done. (My advisor only pointed that out this summer). It will help you not be afraid to start if you think of it thusly.

Also, fake and real illnesses are always handy when it comes to avoiding short-term deadlines. You can tell your dissertation is going badly, when you hope for a horrible flu that will mean you can just stay in bed and sleep. Mmmm, sllllleeeeeeepppppp.

If all else fails, procrastinate by writing blog entries.

My Favorite Things Thursday: Dürer’s Self-Portraits

Photo: Alte Pinakothek

I have always imagined the Renaissance artist Albrecht Dürer to be a bit of a pompous ass. And no, it is not because of this famous self-portrait in Munich’s Alte Pinakothek where he portrays himself as God the Father. And no, it is not from his copyright lawsuit or his correspondence. It is because of another self-portrait, which sadly is not in Munich.

 

Photo: Klassik Stiftung Weimar

Yep, that is the one. You see what I mean?

Anyway, getting back to the portrait in Munich, even though he is a total poser (look at me in my fancy clothes) it is still a beautiful painting and definitely worth the price of a Sunday admission (1 Euro)

Wunder Wednesday: Andechs Monastery

When people visit me in Munich and want to know where to go on a nice day, my answer is always Andechs. Why? Simply because the person I am usually talking to likes one or more of the following: easy hiking, German baroque churches, beer, cheese-lard stuff, or this guy…

That’s right, a trip to Andechs monastery just outside of Munich offers all of these delights.

1. Easy Hike: To get to the monastery, which is up on a hill near the Ammersee, you simply take the S-Bahn to Herrsching and then start walking. You could take a bus up to the monastery, but where would the fun be in that. Save the bus for the trip back down to the train station when you have had too much beer and can no longer follow signs or watch for tree roots. (Grrr! Sneaky trees, always trying to trip me up).

Although Wiki-travel will say it is a 25 minute hike, they are lying. It is closer to an hour, but you will need to work up an appetite for beer, pig knuckles, and cheese stuff. Also, the views shouldn’t be missed.

 

The reason I am so far behind my cousin here is that the last bit is a little steep and I am always out of shape

 

Looking out at the Ammersee and the town below

 

And Jesus said, "Oh, you are tired after a little hike?! Try crucifixion, pal!" (Little known fact: JC loved sarcasm)

On a clear day you can see forever...ok, not forever, but you can see the Alps. To paraphrase Cary Grant in Charade, "now, who put those there?!"

On this hike you can also enjoy the usual hiking wonders: bird song, little water falls, devious tree roots, etc.

 

Note the evil trees waiting to get me

 

2. German Baroque Church: Although there has been a monastery at Andechs from the fifteenth century, the present church is from the eighteenth.

 

Aww, pretty!

 

More pretty! It is only inside that it gets all baroque up in your face

I warned you

Why is there is random abbey on a hill?  Well, the story goes a little something like this. Take it away reliable source:

In 955, relics which Rasso, count of Diessen, had brought from Rome and the Holy Land to his monastery at Wörth  had been transferred to this site to preserve them from the ravages of the Hungarians (Those punks! Although I imagine their leader to be like Douglas Fairbanks Jr. in the “That Lady in Ermine” Watch to about the 3 minute mark to see him and get the song stuck in your head).

Thanks Betty, now back to the story.

In the 12th century three consecrated Hosts, two of which are reputed to have been consecrated by Pope Gregory I the other by Pope Leo IX were added to the relics at the heiligen Berg (holy mountain). The first documented pilgrimages to Andechs were in 1138, when count Berthold II ordered his subjects to make the journey to venerate the relics in the chapel of St Nicholas at the schloss. The legendary rediscovery (thank goodness) of long-lost reliquaries in 1388 revived the ancient pilgrimage trade. The Andechs hosts were approved by CardinalNicholas of Cusa, otherwise a foe of such cults of wonder hosts. (If I have a band I am going to call it The Wonder Hosts.)

The late-Gothic collegiate church which Duke Ernest I (1392 – 1438) had erected in 1423 was changed into a Benedictine monastery by Duke Albert III in 1455, and filled with monks from Tegernsee Abbey. In 1458 it was raised to an abbey, and thenceforth enjoyed a period of uninterrupted prosperity, completely remodelled in Baroque style in 1712, and forming part of the Hofmark Erling (Heiliger Berg Andechs) until its secularization in 1803. It was refounded in 1850 as a Benedictine priory, affiliated to the Abbey of St Boniface in Munich.

 

3. Beer! Like all good Benedictines, those at Andechs got straight to work brewing beer. And now you can enjoy their centuries of research and development.  All kidding aside, this is my favorite Munich beer.

 

And the tradition continues...

4. That guy!: AKA Carl Orff. Born in Munich in the late 19th century, Orff is most famous for his Carmina Burana, which is based on medieval poems and has been beloved by drama queens beginning with the Nazis. He died in 1982 and is buried at Andechs.

So if you want to say hi to ol’ Carl in the baroque church, have a cold one, and stare off at the Alps, Andechs is the place for you.

Food Friday: Leberkäse

My bologna has a first name. It’s L-E-B-E-R. My bologna has a second name. It’s K-A-umlaut-S-E.

 

It almost tricks you into thinking it is yummy bread, but then you realize it is ground up meat bits. Eww

 

Ok, the second part doesn’t really fit the song. Still, thick slices of bologna is essentially what Leberkäse is.  It is also one of the most common sandwich fillers in Munich. I was late getting to the restaurant/bakery of the Conde Nast building today, so it was the only type of sandwich left. Shiver! Strangely enough, I am not a big fan of something that consists of ground-up corned beef, pork, bacon, and onions which is then baked in a bread pan. Nevertheless, it is filling and won’t kill you. Well maybe it will give you heart disease if you eat too much, but that would take some time.

Broken into its parts the name literally mean liver cheese. Now aren’t you hungry? According to a reliable source, linguists believe that the etymology of the word either involves the Middle High German word lab (to clot) or the word laib (loaf), and the Slavic root quas (feast).  I am going to take the clot version of the story.

Maybe they should advertise it this way:

[Small boy fishing on a dock]

Boy: (sings) Because Leberkäse has a way/of causing blood clots that kill you/but not today

My Favorite Things Thursday: “Hieronymus Jobs during his Exams”

Yes, I am aware that it is Friday.  Yesterday morning I was stuck waiting in line and the Kreisverwaltungsreferat (say that three times fast) to be told that I didn’t need to get my new residence pass after all. Three hours well spent.  Still, I didn’t want to miss out talking about one of my favorite paintings in Munich, which happens to be in one of my least favorite museums, the Neue Pinakothek.

So here it is in all its glory:

Hieronymus Jobs im Examen

Painted by Johann Peter Hasenclever (I have decided that Hasenclever is going to be my pen name) in the middle of the nineteenth century, it illustrates a moment from Carl Arnold Kortum’s satirical epic poem, Life, Opinions, and Deeds of Hieronymus Jobs the Candidate. Hasenclever painted another version of this scene which is in the Crocker Art Museum. If you are like me, you have no idea where the Crocker Art Museum is. Never fear. I looked it up for you. It is in Sacramento, CA. I guess this goes to show Sacramento is not all bad.

Since I do not want to really research this painting, I will rely on the Crocker’s curators.  “In the episode depicted here, the hard-drinking Jobs is tested on the subject of bishops. Mistaking the examiners’ intent, he describes the drink of that name rather than the ecclesiastical authority, much to their consternation.” They go on to write, “though the poem is not familiar to modern audiences, Hasenclever captures the varying reactions of the examiners, making his painting a study of universal human emotions.”

I would agree that this painting has a universal appeal, but I would go further and argue that this should be on every graduate student’s wall/carrel while they are studying for their qualifying exams. Why? As my friend and admin assistant at my university said, it is much better to imagine that your professors are wearing powdered wigs than to imagine them naked.

I think ol’ Hasenclever was particularly “smart as a bunny” for capturing the range of expressions one sees during the usual qualifying examination.

Let’s break this down:

1. Hieronymus Jobs (at the far right): Notice that he is wearing his best clothes. We all do this hoping that they will be distracted from our pathetic answers. Also note the open-mouthed, blank stare. I am pretty sure this was my expression during 89.4 percent of my exam. Finally, his right hand starts gesturing as if this will help the answers come more quickly.

2. We next have the rotund gentlemen in the seat closest to poor Jobs. He has obviously had a couple of drinks himself this morning and is mildly enjoying this.

3. Man staring out towards the viewer. That is not a look of surprise caused by ol’ Jerry’s answers. No, after years of faculty meetings and student presentations his face has stuck that way. (Don’t feel bad. His mother warned him)

4. Man with hand over his face on the other side of the table: He is not being thoughtful. He hopes to appear that way, but what he is really doing is suppressing a belch.

5. Two gentlemen in the background conversing. They are trying to decide where to go to lunch when this “damn exam is over.”

6. Worried looking man. He knew he had something to do this morning, but has forgot what it was. This makes him anxious. What he doesn’t realize is that what he had to do this morning was attend Jerry Jobs’ exam.

7. The man standing to their right. He has been told his double chin is less noticeable if he stands thusly and therefore is concentrating on his posture and not the exam.

8. The other man on the viewer’s side of the table. He is trying to come up with some brilliant further question or remark about Jobs’ answer to amaze his fellow faculty.

9. Guy with the dark wig behind him. He is looking forward to chiming in with some nasty (also brilliant) add-on to his neighbors snarky comment.

10. Man in the back with his chin in his hand. He is waiting for those other two to say something so he can take Jobs’ side. Not because he cares about this student who is obviously going to fail, but because he can’t stand those other two bozos.

11. Man standing in the very back. He has learned to sleep with his eyes open. (A skill we should all learn! I am off to try that now.)

Naked Time!

If forced to generalize about the States and Germany, I would have to say that Americans are far more hung up on the whole nudity thing. I base this not only on television, but also on the German kids I babysit and all the people in Munich’s parks and by its lakes and rivers. As soon as the sun comes out, it is as if someone screams, “It’s naked time!” and everyone undresses accordingly.  I was made fun of at the doctor, because when I was told to get undressed and discovered that there were no robes or sheets I pointed this out. The doctor just sighed and said “Americans”.

But by far the most telling evidence are German saunas.

Last night I went with friends to the saunas in Grünwalder Freizeitpark. (Grünwald is a suburb of Munich).

Normally the space is shared by men and women, but Mondays are for women only. This is a good thing, because there is a hell of a lot of nudity involved.  Also fortunate, is that my friend warned me that although there are only women customers the men that work at the sauna (pouring scented water on the hot stones, fanning the heat with towels, etc) would still be there. Although the employees are wearing little towels, you still sit there talking to them with nothing on.

I was surprised to discover how little I cared after the first couple of minutes. The reason for this is not because my firmly set puritanical American attitudes dissolved away with my stress. No, the reason was SAUNAS ARE FOR MASOCHISTS. Especially the Finnish variety, of which Grünwald has a version. I mostly had to concentrated on not dying.

 

Really, who ever thought boiling yourself in steam was a good idea?!  I was so hot that I was happy to throw ice on myself.  Since the thermometers were in Celsius I wasn’t quite sure, but I think it was hot enough to boil my blood.

All complaining aside, it was a pretty amazing time and I still smell like some of the infusions (pine/lavender/etc.) And seriously, few things are as awesome as swimming naked in a heated pool under the night sky.

Manic Munich Monday: False Sense of Security

If I have said it once in this blog, I have said it twelve times (you can count): Munich is a nice, safe, homey place to live. So why am I complaining about this?  Munich has messed with my head, that is why! It has made me less wary. It has made me less paranoid. What is worse, it has made me believe in the brotherhood of man (except in queues). As someone who revels in her pessimism and cynicism, this is a disturbing turn of events. More importantly, seeing the world through Munich-colored glasses has recently cost me a chunk of money.

Let me set the stage.

Here I am my first day in Paris in the airport train station.

Notice that not only am I being silly and comfortable, but my iPhone is laying out on the table.It is just asking for someone to take it. Why am I not being more careful? First, even if a train is coming in two hours I need to check the time every two minutes so I need to keep my Handy handy. Second, Munich has made the idea of  someone coming along and stealing it unthinkable. It is so out of the ordinary that the guy working at the Munich Apple Store when he first heard my phone was ripped out of my hands didn’t believe it until I told him it happened in Paris.

Paris should have reminded me that this Munich view of the world is not accurate. I was just there three years ago. In that time it has gotten dirtier, the metro is covered in graffiti, and I generally felt less safe. I should have remembered Freshman English students’ interpretations of the “Broken Window Theory.” Someone just needs to break one window in a city, and all hell will break loose.  In my case, someone will rip your iPhone from your hands on a train to the airport.

[Real definition of this theory: Broken windows theory is a criminological theory of the normsetting and signalling effects of urban disorder and vandalism on additional crime and anti-social behavior. The theory states that monitoring and maintaining urban environments in a well-ordered condition may prevent further vandalism as well as an escalation into more serious crime.]

So, thanks a lot Munich! You are such a nice place to live I am now out a cell phone. (And no, in no way is this logic flawed). Due to my iPhone addiction, I had to buy a new one. And while the new iPhone has some nice features and is faster, I hate the way it feels in my hand. The design also seems like a step backwards. The edge reminds me of my Walkman headphones. (That is right, I just referenced a Walkman).

Still, I am trying to be positive (damn you, Munich!!!). When I look at the new iPhone, I try to be nostalgic for the design of my old Walkman.  In this I am channeling my inner Dax. If you have no idea what I am talking about, go to about the 3 minute mark in this clip.

In case you don’t want to watch, I will get all art historian on you and give you a slide comparison. See they are essentially the same.

Star Trek (the Original Series) tricorder.

 

The new iPhone. Note the ugly silver edge

 

 

Manic Munich Tuesday: Cutting

Normally I save my complaining about Munich for Mondays. I refuse to see Mondays as the beginning of a brand new and exciting week. Nevertheless, there is a blight on the generally wonderful experience of living in Munich.

Cutting in line!  As I was waiting to get my new subway pass or to pay for my new tights, it was brought to my attention that this practice has reach epidemic proportions. When it happens I am usually to surprised to say anything. But no more. Women over fifty who believe it is their right to cut, watch out!!!

You might be surprised about this. After all, Germany is famed for its organization. You would expect line cutters in Italy or Greece. The thing is, these countries rarely use queues. It is just a wide, messy crowd in front of the ticket window, check-out, etc. In Germany lines are common and therefore expected. This is what makes this breach of manners so shocking.

Thus, I am starting a petition to make cutting in line a criminal offence. You can sign up in the comments section.

MMM: The Real Reason Munich is Nicknamed Toytown

According to a reliable source, the German nickname for Munich is “Millionendorf” (village of a million people).  The English nickname and ex-pat website is Toytown.  If you spend any time in Munich you soon see why. It doesn’t feel like a big city. In the center of the city nothing is built higher than the bell towers of the cathedral. This means every building is only 5 stories tall. As I have mentioned before it is also very clean and very safe.  The streets are neat and the apartments cute and colorful.

Nevertheless, this is not the real reason it is called Toytown. I believe this moniker developed because this village like city is the enormous playground of what I believe is the largest segment of the population.

Children.

You might notice that they never seem to be in school.  That is because school gets out around lunchtime.  For this reason the second largest segment of the population is Au-pairs or babysitters, like myself. Although there are after-school programs, what working parent can really deal with this?

Don’t get me wrong, I love children. Maybe if I am really lucky someone will leave a baby on my doorstep. And a $100,000 check.  Nevertheless,  standing on the subway or tram surrounded by a sea of shouting, unsupervised children is my version of hell.

I am pretty sure that the German government gives baby money or tax breaks in order to encourage population growth. This is unnecessary. With my very scientific method, I have discovered that at any one time during the day, each subway car with have at least one baby in a stroller. Frankly, I think this is enough.

Still, it is a great thing that Munich is such a safe and friendly place for families. Maybe I should just get over this. Next time when I am surrounded I should embrace my inner child and start shouting along with the kids. After all, as this sign says, we are all…

You said it!