Who's ready for another hilarious dose of expat-life?

Ooh, ooh pick me! Pick me!

So this is really fresh off the presses, ladies and gentlemen. By that I mean it happened to me about an hour ago. Mondays I have a late start--in exchange for not having to work until 12 noon, I teach a business English course from 6:45 to 9:15 pm. It all evens out, so don't hate. Anyway. I had some errands to run today, the first of which being getting my birth control prescription renewed. So I go to the doctor.

I hesitate here to say "my doctor" because I've only ever been there once before, for the same reason. She was a nice old lady, but apparently this week she's on vacation. So I went in to see her colleague, Mrs. Dr. Richter. I've gotten better at going to the doctor here--it doesn't make me half as nervous as it used to, but I still get a little stumbly with ye olde German. This lady was also not the type to put one at ease. We're talking a semi-ancient woman of Berlin-ese descent, which means although she's a highly educated woman, I could hardly understand her. She also corrected me for forgetting the Dr. between "Mrs." and "Pfeiffer" (the other Dr. I saw...) and had about as much of the much-praised bedside manner as a scrub pine tree. ANYWAY. I manage to explain what I want and how much of it, and then comes the classic part.

Me: Well, Doc, y'see I've got this rash...
Doc Richter: Show me.
Me: (shows her)
Doc Richter: Ahhhh. A clear case of 'alskduognehixxi'.
Me: Uhhhh...any idea what it came from?
Doc Richter: It's a fungus. You're too clean.
Me: whaaaaaat?
Doc Richter: Too much washing destroys the skin's natural defense mechanisms.
Me: So it's not from the gym?
Doc Richter: I don't know what-all you do at the gym...
Me: (blushes) ...So what should I do?
Doc Richter: It often comes in the springtime. Take this pill once a day for two weeks, use some cream and don't wash.
Me: For two weeks?!
Doc Richter: You'll stink like a pig, but each time it encounters soap and water, you disrupt the healing process. (vigorously writes out three prescriptions)
Me: Ummm...thanks, Doc.
Doc Richter: Get well soon!


So yeah. I just spend over a hundred Euro (not including the Doctors' fees) to get told I'm too clean. Only in Germany, man. It's not that I wash excessively or anything. At least not by American standards. Most of the time, I shower one a day and wash my hair then, too. Occasionally if I have to get up real early or something, I skip a day. And feel dirty. This is going to be a fun two weeks.

In other news, Matthias and the Scirocco were here this weekend, which was fabulous. He insisted that he wanted to go see a museum instead of shopping with Stephan, which is essentially unheard of. (In case this has not been previously mentioned, Stephan is very good at shopping.) Stephan, of course, rioted over being out-voted and went and got his hair cut instead. Matthias and I checked out two fabulous exhibits at the German Museum of History (which I'd previously avoided for no good reason): Art and Propaganda and Dictatorship and Daily Life in the GDR. I can highly recommend both. And of course, checking out the GDR exhibit with someone who was born there was really freaking cool. We walked through and Matthias was like "and we had that, and that and that..." Imagine how it must feel to be 25 and walking through a museum exhibit of things that were a part of your childhood. It's got to be bizarre.

However, I am really only putting off making some extremely necessary phone calls, here. Which isn't good. See, this weekend (i.e. next Tuesday) is the first of May. In many former Communist/Socialist countries, it's celebrated as The Day of Work and it's a holiday. In East Germany, lots and lots of socialists, anti-facists, angry turkish kids and neo-nazis like to riot then. We happen to live in an anti-fa hotbed, which is okay by me...I mean, they're kinda fun. Not, however when they are burning cars and causing our neighborhood to be full of cops. So we're trying to get out of the city for the long weekend...but in order for this to work, I've got to reschedule my tutoring appointment. Meh. Hopefully tomorrow or Wednesday aren't too last minute for them. But usually they're flexible. Anyway, enough of this.

have a very merry.

Happy Easter, Folks...

This'll be a mini holler, because we're supposed to be on the 1:20pm train to Gloewen to meet up with Stephan's mum, who's driving us to the grandparents in the Harz mountains for Easter. It sounds complicated...but it's not really. I'm excited. Stephan's mum Angie is not the most relaxed person I know, so this may not be the most restful Easter weekend of my life, but whatever. It'll be nice to have a distraction from missing Easter with my family and the Passover seder with the Bickermans, all in one weekend.

Last night I met up with Carol Ladd, my high school German teacher, and the group of GAPP exchange kids she's taking through Berlin. It was really weird seeing them and the old chaperons-- and kids like Sam Whittemore who I used to read Roald Dahl to (he remembered, the darling). It's also wild to think that if, for whatever reason, I hadn't gone on the GAPP trip, how different my life would be. It sounds incredibly ridiculous to say that it was a life-changing, door-opening experience for me, but it was. On the whole, it was lovely. A little unsettling, but lovely all the same. And it was a weird kind of validation to be able to introduce Stephan to someone from home. I mean, I know his entire family, all his friends...almost everything, really and he has so few glimpses into my American life. When I think about the fact that he hasn't even met my parents, it's certainly a weird feeling. But it'll happen. In good time.

Hopefully.

Anyhow, I've gotten my 5 minute warning, which means I've got to start frantically searching the apartment for things I've previously forgotten to pack.


Enjoy your respective egg hunts!