Fulbright

The last 12 days have been filled with friends (both old and new), learning, reflecting, discussing, eating, drinking, and generally filled with life.

Though there is SO MUCH that happened in the past 12 days worthy of comment, the bulk of this life-living centers around Fulbright seminar held in Berlin, where Fulbrighters from around the world gathered to discuss the status and future of transatlantic relations while enjoying endless food and drink provided by our lovely Homeland. (Thanks Uncle Sam). Therefore, I believe it's most logical to at least start with this...

Between panel discussions led by a variety of name-drop-worthy people and networking sessions with Fulbrighter's of the past present and future I found myself incredibly humbled by the power of the potential of this organization and the individuals that make Fulbright what it is.

I met, for example, a girl who is doing one of the first experiments of her kind in Nuclear Fusion, which would be a clean and safe way to "create" usable energy (quite the timely topic). Then I met someone doing research on the hormones of hunger and working on a way to make food taste better, while actually controlling appetite (sign me up for when that 'medicine' comes out!) and all the while I am surrounded by peers engaging in discussion about how we can change the world and create the future that we will be experience and influencing for the next 60 years. Whoa.


I left the conference with notebooks filled with comments, goals and to-do lists that include "How I can change the world" followed by bullet points and "DON'T FORGET YOUR PASSIONS WHEN YOU GET HOME!" and "Abstract goal #1: Be someone one people want to invite as a keynote speaker".

I left with a sense of urgency, pride, and ambition to do something influential and really make a difference in the world. As cheesy as that sounds, I believe that IS the power of Fulbright and it took me until now to realize just what being a Fulbright means.

If it took me this long to figure out what Fulbright means, I can imagine that most of the world is probably at a loss as to what Fulbright actually is, soooo the most logical next step of this blog is probably to explain...

In a definitive sense, Fulbright is an international scholarship program begun by Senator J. William Fulbright in 1946 to promote mutual understanding between Germany and the US after WWII through academic and bicultural exchange.

Since its inception it has expanded to include countries and programs worldwide and with a host of Nobel Peace Laureates, senators and other name-droppables in its alumni, its reputation has allowed for continued success in supporting young people as they gather experience to become influential global citizens.

Even with that clear cut definition, I still did not really GET what it meant to be a Fulbright until this conference, but Mayor of Berlin, Ingaborg Junge-Reyer, made it a bit clearer when she said:

                       "The ability to see the world as others see it, and thereby be able to address change and            progress in a way someone else may not is of exceptional value"

That statement, I think, sums up that what I do everyday as a teacher and a Fulbright, and what I will try and do everyday when I return to the states.

As a teacher from the US my job is to be a living and breathing example (ambassador) of the US and to spark discussions  that inspire my students to think in a different way. My perspectives as an American are very different than theirs as German students, and my job is to not only provide more American spin on the topic, but to listen and learn from their ideas. It's cliché to say that I learn more from my students than they learn from me... but its true! And that's my job!

I have no idea where I will be living or what I will be doing next year (if anyone has a job--I'm all ears!) but I can say with confidence that no matter where I go I will carry this experience with me. I will carry these perspectives with me, and like Mayor Junge-Reyer said, "the ability to see the world as others see it" is a lesson I can apply to ANYTHING and everything I do.

I am now, and forevermore, a global citizen and I promise that this sense of mutual understanding and awareness of a bigger world will be part of every decision I make. I want so sincerely to live a life of consequence and I am deeply grateful to Fulbright for his vision to make that desire to make a difference real.

I can't really think of an inspirational ending to this blog without sounding cheesy and/or compromising my sincerity, so I think I will leave it here...and that's all folks. I'm off to Handball practice!

Peace and love,
mere

Smell Hell

There is no way that I am staying in Germany for another year.

I’ve toyed with the idea and on rare days when I wake up thinking in German, or I walk down the street and the non-jay-walkable traffic lights are all green, and my groceries are all cheap I think.. wow, I could really stay here for a while!

But then, as I’m trotting along in my pleasant German daydream, get a whiff of a boy coming down the grocery isle and retract my statement immediately. I can smell a German boy from approximately…a really long way away. I wish I could describe to you the specific stench, but I try and plug my nose and run away before I have to inhale its noxious fumes for another second. In my mind, it is the smell of flowery-nasty with a hint of B.O, but that’s about all I got.

Then, as I try and escape into the fresh air of the German outdoors, I am knocked over by the smell of cow poop and my pleasant German day dream turns suddenly into a nasal nightmare.

I treasure my sense of smell, I really do. If you were to blindfold me and drive me to any one of my childhood friends’ houses I could tell you whose house it was just by walking through the front door. I could give you a timeline of life experiences by laying out the deoderant I was wearing during that phase of my life, and I have about 4 different perfumes that I can no longer wear because the memory forever associated with them is too strong to wear on an everyday basis.

I could also tell you, blindfolded, if we were in the mountains of North Carolina, the beach of South Carolina, or any other place where I have spent significant time. When I was a freshman, for example, I stepped of the bus ready to play a lacrosse game at Guilford College and I said “It smells like North Carolina”. An unnamed bully of an upperclassmen said “That’s because we’re in North Carolina, duh”. Well in my very limited freshman knowledge, I was unaware of our crossing state lines from Va into NC, so despite her snarky comment I was silently proud of my nose.

The problem with this sense of smell though, is it is very stubborn. The memory associated with smells do not and will not go away, and will not be easily persuaded of another memory.

For example, (again lacrosse), when I was a sophomore warming up for a game against Virginia Weslyan, which is in Virginia Beach, I was irrationally happy. Like a lunatic weirdo, I kept sniffing the air and having to repress a joyful, if not maniacal, laugh.

Katie Flippen, a Virginia Beach native and my warm-up passing partner, couldn’t help but ask what I was laughing about. I told her, “Virginia Weslyan smells just like South Carolina! I love it. “. Being the Virginia beach native she is she countered with “no, it smells like Virginia Beach”. Semantics aside, I would not concede and maintained that Virginia beach smelled not like itself, rather, like South Carolina. That was that. My nose had said its piece and was not going to change its mind.

With that stubbornness in mind, we come to Germany. Germany will forever smell of cow poop and B.O. in my mind. When I drive past a farm in Virginia, it smells like Germany. When I smell an American who hasn’t showered in a while… it smells like Germany. And worst of all, when I smell a boy in Europe wearing that flowery excuse of a stanky cologne, it smells, unfortunately, like Germany.

Although the smell of cow poop has somehow morphed itself in my mind to a positive association, it is the only positive smell association I have with this country and as you can imagine, it’s not really a great one.

Even if the association is not the fault of Germany at all—like the fact that I associate German laundry detergent with when I had the flu—the fact that a negative memory and a German odor go hand in hand means my stubborn sense of smell will not rest until I get the heck out of this smell hell.

Anyway this rant was inspired by my present condition, which is a super smelly train ride. The train is full of elderly germans and very crowded, so there’s no way out. The person next to me is asleep and won’t stop farting, there is someone in the vicinity who apparently drank a lake full of vodka yesterday which is now seeping through his/her pores and worst of all, there is a German boy behind me spraying his scent in the forward direction. The rest of this post may not make any sense as my brain might be on the fritz due to lack of oxygen.

Because of this unfortunately odiferous experience, I feel as though I am about to explode. Rather than actually physically explode though , I’m exploding my thoughts into my computer and wrapping my nose in my scarf. While I’m here I would like to propose a few rules for public transportation:
      
        1. It should be illegal to fart in closed quarters.
      
        2. It should be illegal to get on a train at a level of intoxication or hangover that results in your           neighbor being able to smell your rank stench of bad decisions.
    
        3. It should also be illegal to wear any sort of perfume or cologne. In fact, I propose that all German boys be banned from buying any sort of scented spray of any kind because boys cannot be trusted with sensitive and delicate things such as scent.

       4. That’s about it. I need to air out my nostrils. Peace friends.

Karneval!

4 days at Karneval in Cologne put 4 years of college partying to shame. 

Actually we celebrated Karneval for 5 days, but as a group decided that Sunday was a day for Holy (shit we need to recover) rest.

Before I get to the picture filled description, allow me to shed some light on the history of this ridiculous tradition.

Karneval can be mostly equated to the celebration of Mardi Gras in the US, but if you think Mardi Gras is a debauchery, then don't even bother coming to Europe. Karneval is celebrated traditionally throughout the catholic states and countries in Europe, and traditions vary by location, but generally speaking Karneval marks the week before Lent where people dress up like crazy lunatics, drink themselves silly and make it all official by having a parade.

In Cologne, the season of Karnval begins at 11:11 on the 11th of November, and except for a small blip in costumed madness to make room for mulled wine drinking at christmas time, the Köllners party right on up until 11:11am on the Thursday before lent, where the party immediately crescendos into absolute chaos and culminates in a big parade on "Rose Monday".

This Thursday before lent is also called "old woman's day"which commemorates the day in 1824 when washer women stormed the City Hall, cut off all the men's ties, and were able to kiss any man that passed by. Traditionally people are supposed to wear old women's costumes on this day, but I wore a cowboy outfit and refrained from cutting anyone's ties. Also, I think the rule of being able to kiss anyone that passes by applies to ALL of the days of Karneval... which is a whole 'nother story.

So without further ado: the documentation. (PS- note to any possible future employer: this is merely part of the scholarly process of the Fulbright program... my decision to partake in to-be-mentioned activities is more or less mandatory to my cultural education.)

This is what the main streets looked like at 11:11. See what I mean by chaos?

Half of the fulbright group at "AltMarkt" which is right in front of the Rathouse for 11:11 on "old women's day" Please take note of the crazy people dressed in outfits such as "green-swirly-suit". This is standard attire for the week.

After ceremonious confetti was thrown and typical Cologne songs were sung at 11:11 we set off for a day of adventures. We stopped for a while to listen/dance to traditional Karnevals songs played by the band "jød Jék" on this street corner. It was around 11:30, we started drinking around 7:30am and little did we know, this was just the beginning.

Yes, the party continued into the afternoon... (this is Zülpischer Straße where all the bars are... note the seriousness of people's costumes. They do NOT kid around here...)

And deep into the night. I saved this image as "Karneval summed up on one shot". Yup. That's about right.

We did take a break to recover and enjoy the BEAUTIFUL spring weather on Friday (notice Marie looking fully functional in the blue)

But the party started up again promptly around 5:00. This time with a costume change. In this picture Marie is sporting an impressively self-made "Kinder schoko bon-bon" costume, Morgan is a baby who needs help with her bib, Soufian--marie's roommate--is being decorated as a clown by Surin Lee (a lady bug) who made the trek all the way from the U. S of A to take part in these shenanigans. Well done, Surin. I was the  swedish ski jumper taking the photo.

This pattern of Drink, sleep (ish), eat and recover, drink, party continued all the way until the Rosen Montag parade where we summoned up all of our remaining energy to wake up early (6:30 am) hydrate ourselves with some Kölle Wasser (beer), stake out a place in front of the Dom in Cologne, and wait for massive amounts of chocolate and roses to be thrown in our direction. I'd show you pictures, but they are on Marie's camera. MARIE--IF YOU ARE READING THIS PUT YOUR PICTURES UP SO I CAN SHARE THEM!

And that's about it for Karneval. I came home on Tuesday and had to prepare for several lessons, apply to several jobs, and be a real person again. I pushed right through that too, and now I'm sitting on my couch completely defeated by a cold. Go figure. It's not like I wasn't utterly disrespectful of my body for the last week or anything...

Happy Lenten season!

Love,

Meredith