A week in the German life…

OK, OK, so I know I haven’t posted anything in a long time, and I’m a bad person and all that. In my defense, I have been pretty damn busy. Usually I am out doing stuff rather than sitting around writing my blog, and when I do sit down to write… well, its weird. I procrastinate by doing my work instead. Apparently I should blog all the time!

But the time has come for me to finally, finally, put things to rights here on the interwebs… now that my classes are finished, my experiment has been designed, run, analyzed, and presented, and my other paper totally done (56 pages!). I guess there is no work left to procrastinate with! Just kidding. There is always more work.

Let me start by giving you a sense of a typical week here in Deutschland. On Montag (you know, Monday) I usually get up around noon (that’s just how I roll) and then wander to the department to do some work… once I have grabbed some fruckstuck at this fantastic bakery on the way. They make all their rolls fresh every day, and then stuff them with fancy cheeses and ripe tomatoes and lots of other things… fresh, delicious, nutritious, and it only costs 2 or 3 euro. Why the hell can’t Tim Horton’s make things like that?

Anyway, Mondays at 6:30 we have politisch psychologie… a voluntary student seminar run by my friend Georg about, well, political psychology (tough translation, I know). The tricky part is… its all in German! Fortunately, sometimes people translate for me, but often I am left to derive the jist of the conversation on my own. And sometimes I can sort of figure it out, and then make a comment myself! That part is very gratifying.

Tuesdays I usually roll out of bed around noon (that’s just how I roll… out of bed… yeah), grab a fresh sandwich from my bakery, and head to projekt-zeitsung, which is basically lab meeting for the 10-15 people in the Strack lab group—except it lasts almost 2 whole hours! Usually, they deign to present in English, which suits me well, though you would be surprised how much German you can understand when it is accompanied by powerpoint containing graphs and references to English studies.

Tuesday afternoons i would typically visit my friend Lisa who works in the library downstairs. She is usally starving for coffee by 4 or 5, so she is happy when I bring her a spare cup from the kitchen (she can’t leave the library for like 7 hours straight!). We always sit and chat about random things as people check things in and out of the library. She swears I am the louder person but that is just my laugh… the rest of the time SHE is louder I swear.

Sometimes we would bring in an outside speaker for projekt-zeitsung, in which case the whole lab group would go out for dinner at one of the many excellent local restaurants. If not, then typically Georg and I would work until around midnight, then hang out, drink a beer, and watch some How I Met Your Mother. Elyse, you win… I do identify with Ted. Though I think I am less rigid and uptight than he is…

Wednesdays were tough; I had to get up BEFORE noon to make it to class on time! I have been taking a class on survey methodology with the prof here, Fritz Strack. I like his style of lecturing… basically he provides you with a list of questions about the readings, and then goes through the list, asking people to comment on this or that aspect of a study. Easy enough for me, especially since this is now my tenth year in university (I KNOW!!!!!!). Sometimes things got a little awkward though, because there are only 7 people in the class, and on any given week only 4 people would show up, and out of the four of us, I seemed to be the only one who ever actually did the readings. So basically, class went like this:

FRITZ: Someone tell me how question order affected life satisfaction ratings in study X.

AWKWARD SILENCE AS STUDENTS LOOK AROUND ROOM TO DETERMINE WHO WILL ANSWER.

FRITZ: Paul, how did question order affect life satisfaction ratings in study X?

PAUL: Um, well, they were higher in this group than that group.

FRITZ: Good. And how did things change in study Y?

AWKWARD SILENCE AS STUDENTS LOOK AROUND ROOM TO DETERMINE WHO WILL ANSWER.

FRITZ: Paul, how did things change in study Y?

Repeat Ad nausem.

It was weird for me because the questions seemed very straightforward, and I was continually surprised that no one else volunteered an answer more than a few times a class—especially because I really liked my class-mates and hung out with them socially. They always insisted that they were at a disadvantage because English was their second language (they would complain using their near-perfect English) and because they were only in their fourth or fifth semester. Still, I feel that actually reading the readings really makes it easier to answer questions in class….

Wednesday afternoons were usually reserved for my Sprachen-austauch, or TANDAM as they seem to call it here. Basically, I would sit on the roof garden with my friend Johanna, and she would teach me useful German phrases like “Deine Mutter!” and I would teach her useful English phrases like “Yo mama!” Then we would head off to this thing called Mittwochs Club, where psychology students hang out with patients at the local psychiatric institute. The patents were really nice, and we always did interesting things together, like head to BBQs by the river or international fairs in botanical gardens. Somehow Johanna and I usually ended up hanging out afterwards as well, going to a dance club or sneaking into a party for dental students or just sitting around her apartment… our record was hanging out for 15 hours in a row.

Thursdays I was free to get up when I felt like it (usually around noon), and work at the department. About every second week I would work at the department ‘til about midnight with Georg; other weeks I would attend the crazy social activity du jour: winefest, house parties, BBQs, or what have you.

Fridays I would get up when it suited me (noon), get a little work in, and then head off to class: I have been taking this class on “German World Heritage” by the most stereotypical German prof ever. Every class he dresses in a suit, stands rigidly in front of the class, and in the most formal tone possible, drones on with absolute precision about the precise numerical details of German monuments and sharply and unnecessarily gestures with the pointer to obvious details. Once, he showed us a slide depicting a room with walls and a fancy stove. Then he pointed to the stove, and said, “This is the stove.” Then he held the pointer there for 30 seconds, in case we were confused by the lack of any other thing that could possibly resemble a stove.

The rambunctious Americans I usually sit with find him unbearably funny, and I must say it rubs off on me. Though I must admit, I really have learned a lot, and much of it has been fascinating. We covered all 37 German UNESCO world heritage sites, and some of them are truly outstanding. We all had to do a presentation, and I did mine on the Wartburg… I shared it below cause the Wartburg is pretty nifty.  After class various things would happen, often involving the aforementioned crazy Americans or some of my other friends…

Saturdays and Sundays I was usually travelling to some local town and exploring the heck out of it. Most of those excursions have/will get their own treatment here on the blog, so I will not digress for now. But hopefully you believe me now that I didn’t have much time for blogging! It was a rare night indeed that I made it home before midnight…

One last thing. I would love to include some fantastic photos with this update, but, well, I have been having some camera issues. See, my camera busted, so I bought another one from local cheapskate/ripoff—I mean, electronics store—called MediaMarkt. Their camera lasted one week and then busted on me, but due to their crappy exchange policy and their refusal to accept VISA, I cannot get it fixed for less than 189 euros (it cost 111 to buy). So, I am using cheap disposables at the moment, which have not been developed. I would love to get a new camera, but I refuse to buy from MediaMarkt, and they are the ONLY electronics store left in town (now that they ran the others out of business)… Paul…. ANGRY……. RRAAAAWWWRRR

The Wartburg

So I wrote this paper for my German World History Class… its a little academicy for a blog post, but hopefully still of enough interest that you can enjoy…

A Slender Fortress

The Wartburg, a slender fortress perched on a precipice of rock high above Eisenach in the Thüringen countryside, has borne witness to nearly a thousand years of German history. A UNESCO World Heritage Site since 1999, the Wartburg has hosted some of the greatest events in German history, and sheltered some of history’s greatest figures. This unique structure is comprised of a hodgepodge of architectural styles testifying to periods of glory, ruin, and revitalization as the needs and moods of the German people have changed.  An investigation of the Wartburg’s many facets reveals much about the people who built it.

The founder of the Wartburg as we know it today was Ludwig der Springer (Ludwig the Leaper), Landgrave of Thuringia in the early part of the Twelfth Century (†1123). According to legend, Ludwig earned his epithet while escaping imprisonment. He had met a beautiful woman whom he resolved to marry—once he killed her current husband. This deed landed him in the angstloch (fear-prison) of a castle tower for two years. Tiring of confinement, Ludwig (reportedly) leapt from the prison window into the river far below, using his cloak as a crude parachute like a medieval batman.

Ludwig, Post-Leaping

Free again, Ludwig took up hunting in the rich green forests of Thuringia, accompanied by his royal entourage. It is said that upon one of these excursions he first laid eyes on the mountain that was to shoulder the future Wartburg, and immediately shouted, “Warten, Berg! Sie wird mein Burg sein!” (“Wait, mountain! You will be my castle!”), thus coining the name “Wartburg.” Of course, the name could have something to do with the Wachturm (watchtower) known to exist on that site since the 800’s… but how romantic is that explanation?

“Warten, Berg!"

Ludwig had to overcome one more hurdle before beginning construction on the Wartburg. Apparently the mountain wasn’t technically part of his territory… it was just over the border. But Ludwig was a smart man, and came up with an ingenious solution: he ordered workers to cart barrows of soil from his territory up the mountain and dump it at the top. That way when he started construction, he was technically building on his own soil. I dare you to try that next time you want to extend your house onto your neighbour’s property…

Ludwig der Springer completed a two story hall (with in-floor heating), as well as some defensive structures, before his reign ended. His work was greatly extended by his grandson, Ludwig II der Eiserne (†1172). Ludwig II did well for himself. He married the sister of the Emperor, and thus greatly expanded the territory of Thuringia. This meant big changes for the Wartburg: whereas before it was a fortress on the very edge/slightly beyond Thuringia’s borders, now the Wartburg sat squarely in the center of the newly expanded Thüringen domain. Therefore, it became the new center of power, and Ludwig II commissioned a building that represented his growing wealth and influence. During this period the Wartburg attained the greatest prominence it was to hold for many centuries.

My Fancypants' 3 Story Hall... and Accoutrement

Among other projects, Ludwig II added a third story onto the two story hall built by his grandfather. A three story hall—constructed entirely out of stone, on top of a steep mountain, no less—reflected an extraordinary amount of wealth and would have been tremendously impressive to people of the day. Ludwig II decorated the interior of his building with frescos, tapestries, ornate chests, and other works of art. He also invited poets of the day to entertain him and his court.

See Heinrich cowering in fear, but getting saved by Countess Sophia?

In 1207, a great competition was held at the Wartburg, known as Sängerkrieg (Minstrel’s contest), involving six minstrels who attempted to outdo one another in praise of their host lord, the Count of Thuringia. The people of Würzburg claim that the winner was famous local poet, Walther von der Vogelweide, who is immortalized in the Residenz fountain and buried behind the Dom (against his wishes). According to legend, however, the winner was Heinrich von Ofterdingen. Heinrich was so eloquent that he aroused the jealousy of the other minstrels, so they tricked him into praising his own lord, rather than the host, causing the Count to sentence Heinrich to death. Fortunately, his poetry stirred the heart of Countess Sophia, who granted him a year-long reprieve. Heinrich used this year to seek the help of the sorcerer Klingsor, who ultimately summoned a daemon to finish the poetic duel… The point is, this was supposedly a great turning point in art, when a poet’s quality was no longer to be judged on how well he praised his host, but rather on the pure merit of his work. The Sängerkrieg has been immortalized in Wagner’s Tannhäuser und der Sängerkrieg auf Wartburg, and forms a backbone of medieval German literature.

Shortly afterward, a saint came to live in the Wartburg: St. Elizabeth of Hungary (†1231). Elizabeth came to live at the Wartburg at age four, as the lynchpin of an alliance between Thüringen Landgrave Hermann I and King Andrew II of Hungary against German Emperor Otto IV. Ten years later, at age 14, Elizabeth wed Herman’s son Ludwig IV, and immediately produced three children. Elizabeth was not popular in court. Rather than acting, well, like a princess, she modeled her life on the ascetic St. Francis of Assisi: she eschewed luxurious clothing, gave away her possessions, practiced self-mortification, and established a hospital at the base of the Wartburg. Naturally, these good works earned her the wrath of more selfish members of court—and her kind husband could not shield her entirely. Once, as she was secretly bringing bread to the poor, she was accosted by court officials who demanded to know what she was carrying. As she reluctantly revealed her basket, the bread turned into roses—something referred to as the “Miracle of the Rose.” Accordingly, statues of St. Elizabeth invariably involve bread and roses. Life got harder for St. Elizabeth after her husband died on a Crusade; her brother-in-law took over as Regent and eventually drove her away from the castle. She died at age 24, and was canonized a mere four years later. Pope Gregory IX referred to her as “the greatest woman of the German middle ages.”

Miracle of the Rose

A few centuries later, the Wartburg housed another major religious figure. Martin Luther (†1546) actually attended school in the shadow of the Wartburg, earning his tuition by singing hymns door to door as part of an Eisenach choir before becoming a minister and professor of theology. Luther became increasingly disgusted with the Catholic church’s corrupt policy of indulgences, where people (even the dead) could pay money to be absolved of sin. This policy was making the church filthy rich, but was doing little for the piety (or pocketbooks) of the people. In 1517, Luther took his misgivings public by posting his famous 95 Theses on the door of Wittenburg church. Refusing to recant, he was excommunicated from the church and declared an outlaw by the Emperor, placing him in mortal danger. Fortunately for Luther, Friedrich der Wisse (the Wise) of Saxony sent soldiers to waylay him. Under the guise of an assault, they escorted him to the Wartburg, which by this time had fallen into obscurity. There he lived under the pseudonym “Junker Jorg” (Knight Jorg).

Martin Luther, but neither King nor Junior

Although Luther spent less than a year at the Wartburg, it was a time of immense productivity for him. In only eight months he translated the New Testament from Greek into German. In the process, Luther amalgamated eight different dialects into a single written word comprehensible by all Germans. The Wartburg Bible, as it came to be called, had a profound influence on religious doctrine, translation techniques, and the emerging German language. Moreover, during this time Luther produced a plethora of political and religious pamphlets. His 95 theses had sparked a powderkeg of tension that now erupted into church smashing, peasant revolts, and political maneuvering that culminated in the Reformation. Luther was appalled at the violence he helped unleash. His aim was to reform the intact Catholic church, not smash it apart or create his own order. He frantically published pamphlets condemning the violence and calling for order, but was eventually forced to leave the Wartburg and call for peace personally. The room where Luther translated the Bible has been preserved to this day, and became a place of pilgrimage for Protestants of all varieties. There is still a black spot on the wall where Luther threw his ink at the devil, who apparently visited him there one night.

The Luther Room... see the spot? Me neither.

The poet Goethe (†1832) was the next famous figure to live in the Wartburg during the turn of the Nineteenth Century. Although primarily drawn there by the wild Thüringen forest, Goethe also came to love the old German architecture, despite its dismal state of repair by this point. Goethe sketched the Wartburg and incorporated it into his poetry. He lived in an age characterized by growing desire for German unity to replace the hundreds of principalities that dotted the German landscape, and for him—as well as many others—the Wartburg represented an idealized vision of the past: a past characterized by a mighty, united German nation where rulers lived in harmony with the ruled. Such romantic notions, coupled with the Wartburg’s growing popularity as a Lutheran pilgrimage site, prompted Goethe to found an art collection in 1815 with the aim of enhancing the Wartburg’s esthetic value. Although many fine pieces eventually ended up on display there, sadly, most went missing after the Soviet military took control of Thuringia in 1945.

The remaining art collection includes cutlery THAT ARE ALSO GUNS.

Idealized notions of the Wartburg’s storied history lead not only to an art collection; they spurred a whole new building phase during the mid 1800s. There was a desire to “restore” the Wartburg to former glory—according to romantic, rather than realistic, principles. The aim was to transform the Wartburg into a national monument of German unity, characterized by gesamtkunstwerk (a synthesis of the arts). Grandiose plan after grandiose plan was drawn up and rejected—sixteen in all. It was not until professor Hugo von Ritgen wrote a 140 page manuscript on the subject—unbidden—that planners decided to move ahead with restoration. Accordingly, numerous buildings were added to the site, including the Bergfried, Torhall, Ritterbad, and a hotel. Moreover, existing buildings were completely redecorated. The third story of the great hall was converted into an elegant Wagnerian opera house (where the local high school graduation is held each year), a gilt mosaic depicting St. Elizabeth’s life was installed in the women’s chamber, and Fresco artist Moritz von Schwind depicted famous scenes from German fairy tales on the throne room walls—notably, scenes regarding Ludwig der Leaper, St. Elizabeth, and the Sängerkrieg. Thus, the modern Wartburg reflects Nineteenth Century ideals of medieval life more than an accurate representation of preceding centuries.

See the flag hanging in this Wagner Hall? That is the first German flag ever.

One more event in the Wartburg’s storied history deserves mention. It is well documented the world over that students are among the most impatient groups when it comes to change in society, and German students are no exception. Despite the growing desire for German unity that characterized the early Nineteenth Century—particularly after the defeat of Napoleon at Waterloo in 1815 and the great promises that politicians made at that time—Germany remained mired in the status quo of hundreds of tiny principalities. Students felt that progress was stalling, and they had enough. They took matters into their own hands by organizing a huge rally at the Wartburg in 1819 with over 500 participants. There, they laid out the “Principles and Resolutions” that ought to govern unification, and invented the predecessor of the modern German flag, characterized by the Black, Gold, and Red belonging to the troops who defeated Napoleon. They also burned military uniforms as Ludwig Roediger gave his famous “Fire Speech.” As a result of all this hullabaloo, student unions were promptly outlawed and prominent members arrested. Yet, the students had the last laugh, as Germany eventually achieved unification under Bismarck, and student unions are again legal. How times change.

As the Wartburg has played a role during nearly every phase of German history, a visit there is like travelling back in time. Depending on where one looks, one can imagine happening across Martin Luther translating the Bible, or St. Elizabeth helping the poor, or Ludwig der Leaper shouting at his mountain, or students demanding unification. It truly is a unique gem of German heritage, and most deserving of UNESCO World Heritage status.