I guess I'm having my 1.5 minutes...no, I didn't get the decimal point in the wrong place. But I did get my picture in Der Tagesspiegel (The Daily Mirror) the other day...with the caption "Pedagogik mit Charisma" (teaching with charisma). The article was about how the private and public English-language schools in Berlin search for faculty, ideally those who can inspire children and also work on a team (also part of the caption). Somehow out of the pictures they had to choose from they chose me. So now I have newspaper recognition in Germany...next, the world! HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!
If I get a chance I'll scan the picture, but so far I have no electronic version. I do have two copies on paper, though! :c)
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Friday, May 1, 2009
May Day
Berlin in the springtime is outstanding. We wondered this week whether we should try to go somewhere on this long May Day weekend, perhaps to Dresden or Leipzig, a day trip kind of place, so we could say we’d been traveling. But the end of the week snuck up on us (the long part of the weekend coming at the BEGINNING, instead of the end, like we’re used to) and we hadn’t planned anything, so we stayed.
Local hero Christian took us climbing today. We herded the kids out of the apartment at the remarkable hour of 10:20, only shortly after the promised 10:00. It being May Day, we promptly (as in outside our door) came across two other families out to do something outside with their kids. This gave the distinct impression that this is kind of like a Memorial Day in Boston. Everyone has the day off, except the train workers, and the weather is awesome, so everyone is out and heading for the riverside or the woods or grilling or whatever, as long as its outdoors.
Anyway we met up with Christian out by Grünewald, to the west of the city. Still in Berlin, but as he said, the great thing about Berlin is that even when you stay in the city you can still get out of the city. To get to the climbing wall, we had to climb up and over Teufelsberg (Devil’s Mountain), one of the many hills created by piling up the rubble left over from the destruction of the city at the end of WWII. It’s difficult to believe that this is a man-made hill when you’re actually on it; its size alone suggests it has to be natural, and the fact that its sides are covered with trees makes it feel wild. The bricks and bits of concrete that poke through into the path do make it clear that something else is going on, however, and Katy even spotted some pieces of old china. An archaeologist’s dream!
The climbing wall, a multifaceted structure set back in the woods, had a pretty good crowd. Christian hooked us all up with harnesses and ropes and gear, taught some knots, set up some top ropes, and we spent most of the day climbing, belaying, and generally getting good and tired. Everyone had some success, everyone tried something that was out of their comfort zone, and we all had a great time. We ended the afternoon exhausted, proud of ourselves, and not at all disappointed to still be in Berlin. Thanks Christian!
Dinner at a Biergarten, near the zoo, put the finishing touches on a terrific day. Dining outdoors, where we could be silly and loud and not have to be on our best manners, made for a relaxed and fun evening. We made it home on the S-Bahn, bathed dust, sweat, and sunscreen off all the kids, and popped them into bed. I suspect they’ll all sleep well tonight.
Local hero Christian took us climbing today. We herded the kids out of the apartment at the remarkable hour of 10:20, only shortly after the promised 10:00. It being May Day, we promptly (as in outside our door) came across two other families out to do something outside with their kids. This gave the distinct impression that this is kind of like a Memorial Day in Boston. Everyone has the day off, except the train workers, and the weather is awesome, so everyone is out and heading for the riverside or the woods or grilling or whatever, as long as its outdoors.
Anyway we met up with Christian out by Grünewald, to the west of the city. Still in Berlin, but as he said, the great thing about Berlin is that even when you stay in the city you can still get out of the city. To get to the climbing wall, we had to climb up and over Teufelsberg (Devil’s Mountain), one of the many hills created by piling up the rubble left over from the destruction of the city at the end of WWII. It’s difficult to believe that this is a man-made hill when you’re actually on it; its size alone suggests it has to be natural, and the fact that its sides are covered with trees makes it feel wild. The bricks and bits of concrete that poke through into the path do make it clear that something else is going on, however, and Katy even spotted some pieces of old china. An archaeologist’s dream!
The climbing wall, a multifaceted structure set back in the woods, had a pretty good crowd. Christian hooked us all up with harnesses and ropes and gear, taught some knots, set up some top ropes, and we spent most of the day climbing, belaying, and generally getting good and tired. Everyone had some success, everyone tried something that was out of their comfort zone, and we all had a great time. We ended the afternoon exhausted, proud of ourselves, and not at all disappointed to still be in Berlin. Thanks Christian!
Dinner at a Biergarten, near the zoo, put the finishing touches on a terrific day. Dining outdoors, where we could be silly and loud and not have to be on our best manners, made for a relaxed and fun evening. We made it home on the S-Bahn, bathed dust, sweat, and sunscreen off all the kids, and popped them into bed. I suspect they’ll all sleep well tonight.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Adventures in France, Day 2
The morning started off with tearful farewells to Momma as she headed home. We tried to leave early enough that she could come with us to the Eiffel Tower, but it was not to be, so we went together as far as the train station. The kids and I made our way through the depths of the Montparnasse Métro, which is pretty labyrinthine, and eventually got to the right train. Not too much later we arrived at the Hakim Bei? station. One very brief wrong start and we quickly arrived at a point where we could see the Tour itself. A quick photo, then we threw ourselves into the massive crowds milling about and the endless lines waiting to go up. In fact, I've never seen lines so long. Hold on...something's wrong with these lines. They're not moving. What's going on?
Aha! I see, it's not open yet. OK, what time is it? 10:15. Huh? Further investigation required. This is NOT a time to fall sheeplike into the back of a line waiting for it to go somewhere. No, we must assert ourselves! (Or at least our right to information). We explored to the South tower, where the stairs are (and, not surprisingly, the shortest line) and asked the people up front if they knew when the gate would open. "Um, no," they said, "maybe not at all." It turns out that the security staff had been on strike yesterday and it appeared they still were today. But nobody really knows, except that opening time was an hour ago and nothing's happening. A whole lot of wishful thinking going on. We joined in for about twenty minutes before quitting.
But NOW what to do? We wandered (aimlessly) down the Champ de Mars, past the protest at the Ecole de la Guerre (Malcolm says "School of war? that's like war school, I bet"), and onto the train where we redirected and headed for Montmartre. Promises of food once we got off helped keep the troops on their feet.
Arrival at Abbesses, up about a thousand stairs just to get out of the Metro! After a short walk we found a small shop selling panini and picked out a couple for our lunch. The local children came home from school and set to work delivering groceries. We took ours down the street and sat in the sun to watch the funicular riding up and down the hill, empty. Also closed, but still working. Fortunately we were strong enough to make it up the hill, now in bright sunshine, to Sacre-Coeur. Admired the incredible view, peeled off a couple layers of clothes, argued with Malcolm about whether he could spend his money on a binocular view. The parental answer was no, and as it turned out he couldn't reach it anyway. But he was somewhat mollified in his need to SPEND by buying a candle for us to light in the church. I bought one too and we all cried a little while we stood together with the candles.
After we went out in the sun again M and I stood in line for the toilet for about half an hour while the girls invented a game on the stairs. Meanwhile a guitarist was holding forth on the front steps and attracting an enormous crowd, singing Bob Marley and such. Cool. Then we went off to find ice cream, but first we gave in to an artist and overpaid (but maybe not too much) for a crayon portrait of the three kids together. It's nice but Seanna looks like 5 or 6 year old Seanna, with rounder cheeks than she has now.
On around through the crazy square full of sidwalk artists, down the hill, the kids stopped to sit in the sun and play a game with stones on the sidewalk while I took a short nap. Not on purpose, mind you. Then we continued down, eventually ending up in the Cimetière Montmartre, which is quite a hodgepodge of tombs and monuments. Kind of disorganized, actually. Again we went onward to find the train, but first another half hour in the dingy depths of a mall waiting for everyone to finish in the WC. Arrival back in Montparnasse, through the labyrinth (how do I get OUT of here?), out in the wrong direction as usual, found our way to Hippopotamus (a little slice of the US--Applebee's maybe? TGIFridays? Not quite as much fried fried as those places, but similar) for dinner. Even Ben and Jerry's for dessert. Home, baths, bed...Disney tomorrow!
Aha! I see, it's not open yet. OK, what time is it? 10:15. Huh? Further investigation required. This is NOT a time to fall sheeplike into the back of a line waiting for it to go somewhere. No, we must assert ourselves! (Or at least our right to information). We explored to the South tower, where the stairs are (and, not surprisingly, the shortest line) and asked the people up front if they knew when the gate would open. "Um, no," they said, "maybe not at all." It turns out that the security staff had been on strike yesterday and it appeared they still were today. But nobody really knows, except that opening time was an hour ago and nothing's happening. A whole lot of wishful thinking going on. We joined in for about twenty minutes before quitting.
But NOW what to do? We wandered (aimlessly) down the Champ de Mars, past the protest at the Ecole de la Guerre (Malcolm says "School of war? that's like war school, I bet"), and onto the train where we redirected and headed for Montmartre. Promises of food once we got off helped keep the troops on their feet.
Arrival at Abbesses, up about a thousand stairs just to get out of the Metro! After a short walk we found a small shop selling panini and picked out a couple for our lunch. The local children came home from school and set to work delivering groceries. We took ours down the street and sat in the sun to watch the funicular riding up and down the hill, empty. Also closed, but still working. Fortunately we were strong enough to make it up the hill, now in bright sunshine, to Sacre-Coeur. Admired the incredible view, peeled off a couple layers of clothes, argued with Malcolm about whether he could spend his money on a binocular view. The parental answer was no, and as it turned out he couldn't reach it anyway. But he was somewhat mollified in his need to SPEND by buying a candle for us to light in the church. I bought one too and we all cried a little while we stood together with the candles.
After we went out in the sun again M and I stood in line for the toilet for about half an hour while the girls invented a game on the stairs. Meanwhile a guitarist was holding forth on the front steps and attracting an enormous crowd, singing Bob Marley and such. Cool. Then we went off to find ice cream, but first we gave in to an artist and overpaid (but maybe not too much) for a crayon portrait of the three kids together. It's nice but Seanna looks like 5 or 6 year old Seanna, with rounder cheeks than she has now.
On around through the crazy square full of sidwalk artists, down the hill, the kids stopped to sit in the sun and play a game with stones on the sidewalk while I took a short nap. Not on purpose, mind you. Then we continued down, eventually ending up in the Cimetière Montmartre, which is quite a hodgepodge of tombs and monuments. Kind of disorganized, actually. Again we went onward to find the train, but first another half hour in the dingy depths of a mall waiting for everyone to finish in the WC. Arrival back in Montparnasse, through the labyrinth (how do I get OUT of here?), out in the wrong direction as usual, found our way to Hippopotamus (a little slice of the US--Applebee's maybe? TGIFridays? Not quite as much fried fried as those places, but similar) for dinner. Even Ben and Jerry's for dessert. Home, baths, bed...Disney tomorrow!
Monday, April 6, 2009
Springtime in Berlin
Just a few musings...
Spring seems to happen earlier here than in Boston. We've already had 70° days (well, one, but it's still one) and it's light until almost 8 o'clock. The trees are leafing out, the flowers are blooming, and more importantly, the cafés have put their tables out. Actually, to be more accurate, the tables were out all winter for the most part, but nobody sat at them. Now the tables are, if not filled, at least in use. I'm happy to say that I have already enjoyed a Friday afternoon sitting out at some of those tables with some colleagues enjoying a warm sunny spring day. And what a great way to spend an afternoon!
Part of my thought on this is that it hadn't occurred to me until now how WIDE the sidewalks in Berlin actually are. Not at all unusual to have two or even three tables out from the store front and still plenty of room to walk past. This, combined with the relatively low height of the buildings--rarely more than 5 stories (cousin Jan suggests this has to do with the lack of bedrock to build on, only sand)--makes for a sense of light and openness that is pretty hard to find in Boston. It just feels more CROWDED there.
I think everyone here has some kind of seasonal mood affect. The light has changed really dramatically (even without Daylight Savings Time, which seems to happen at a more civilized point in the cycle than the ridiculous early March date that the US has gone to) and everyone seems happier. Although our principal showed me a weather forecast today from the newspaper which contradicted this: next to forecasts for "spring like weather" (that was the 70°) was the "health" forecast, which predicted that the warm temperatures would increase peoples' blood pressure, stress level, and general anxiety. Apparently the Germans aren't happy unless they have something to complain about...which might explain the concept of schadenfreude?
Spring seems to happen earlier here than in Boston. We've already had 70° days (well, one, but it's still one) and it's light until almost 8 o'clock. The trees are leafing out, the flowers are blooming, and more importantly, the cafés have put their tables out. Actually, to be more accurate, the tables were out all winter for the most part, but nobody sat at them. Now the tables are, if not filled, at least in use. I'm happy to say that I have already enjoyed a Friday afternoon sitting out at some of those tables with some colleagues enjoying a warm sunny spring day. And what a great way to spend an afternoon!
Part of my thought on this is that it hadn't occurred to me until now how WIDE the sidewalks in Berlin actually are. Not at all unusual to have two or even three tables out from the store front and still plenty of room to walk past. This, combined with the relatively low height of the buildings--rarely more than 5 stories (cousin Jan suggests this has to do with the lack of bedrock to build on, only sand)--makes for a sense of light and openness that is pretty hard to find in Boston. It just feels more CROWDED there.
I think everyone here has some kind of seasonal mood affect. The light has changed really dramatically (even without Daylight Savings Time, which seems to happen at a more civilized point in the cycle than the ridiculous early March date that the US has gone to) and everyone seems happier. Although our principal showed me a weather forecast today from the newspaper which contradicted this: next to forecasts for "spring like weather" (that was the 70°) was the "health" forecast, which predicted that the warm temperatures would increase peoples' blood pressure, stress level, and general anxiety. Apparently the Germans aren't happy unless they have something to complain about...which might explain the concept of schadenfreude?
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Addendum
I am reminded that sometimes things work backwards, too. I said that Americans are more culturally inclined to "get 'er done" and Germans seem more likely to just do what's in the job description and no more...but here at BMS the hausmeister (so much more than a custodian) seems to live for school. Not only does he get all kinds of things done (usually cheerfully, I might add) but he even DJ'd the staff party and a colleague's birthday. And while I have worked with a few custodians who were enthused about being in a school and around kids, most could learn something about taking the initiative from Ronny.
It just goes to show that generalizations aren't usually worth depending on.
It just goes to show that generalizations aren't usually worth depending on.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Sidewalk dodging and graph paper
Yeah, this one is a bit of a stretch, but sometimes we have to allow room for weird connections to work their magic. I had to run home at lunchtime the other day to pick up items left behind by Son #1. On the way, as I enjoyed the warm weather and the flowers planted by my neighbors, I had to maintain strict attention lest I stumble into a doggie calling-card. I wondered why nobody does anything about it. The epiphany was that it seems to be part of a significant cultural difference between Americans and Germans: here, the mindset is "I will do exactly what is listed as part of my job description or contained in a directive." If it isn't directed, its "not my fault, not my problem."
Readers of this blog may remember that we had an incident on the class trip in which the "organizers" (I use the term loosely) put out 19 adult bikes for our 31 9- and 10- year olds. Not their job to wonder if there were enough, or if the kids would fit on them.
And on to education. I had a conversation with a parent recently who seemed to feel that his child needs to use paper with lines on it to keep his writing straight--and that I should be insisting on this not only for his boy but also for everyone else. ("Is it normal practice in an international school," he asked me, "for children to write on paper without lines??") I explained that if he felt his child needed lines, HE was free to suggest this. AND that perhaps sometimes the child has to struggle before he sees the value of the tool. But I don't think he understood--because he wanted his child to use lined/graph paper simply because he was told to. The kid didn't need to think, he only needed to follow directions.
Which leads us back to dog poop. American culture suggests that when you see a problem you should try to figure out how to fix it, or at least what you can do to make it better. German culture seems to be more rule-bound--and if it isn't my job, it isn't my problem. So why would anyone scoop the poop? Leaving the rest of us to dodge, and wish for lines on the sidewalk indicating where the poop should be placed.
Readers of this blog may remember that we had an incident on the class trip in which the "organizers" (I use the term loosely) put out 19 adult bikes for our 31 9- and 10- year olds. Not their job to wonder if there were enough, or if the kids would fit on them.
And on to education. I had a conversation with a parent recently who seemed to feel that his child needs to use paper with lines on it to keep his writing straight--and that I should be insisting on this not only for his boy but also for everyone else. ("Is it normal practice in an international school," he asked me, "for children to write on paper without lines??") I explained that if he felt his child needed lines, HE was free to suggest this. AND that perhaps sometimes the child has to struggle before he sees the value of the tool. But I don't think he understood--because he wanted his child to use lined/graph paper simply because he was told to. The kid didn't need to think, he only needed to follow directions.
Which leads us back to dog poop. American culture suggests that when you see a problem you should try to figure out how to fix it, or at least what you can do to make it better. German culture seems to be more rule-bound--and if it isn't my job, it isn't my problem. So why would anyone scoop the poop? Leaving the rest of us to dodge, and wish for lines on the sidewalk indicating where the poop should be placed.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Snow
It was snowing in Berlin all day yesterday, though it really doesn’t seem to snow here like it does in Boston. At the end of a day like that in Boston, we’d have 8 or 9 inches at least. Here, we were left with maybe an inch or two of accumulation, though one of my students who comes from a small town a good way east of Berlin, in the Brandenburg countryside, said they had 40 cm (about 16 inches!) this morning. Here’s a picture from earlier in the year of the schoolyard in snow.
Anyway what I find interesting about snow here is that there doesn’t seem to be any sort of system for dealing with it, though it’s not exactly unexpected. The plan for handling snow seems to be an offshoot of the Bush plan for dealing with global warming: ignore it, and sooner or later it will go away. This extends to streets, sidewalks, anywhere snow might accumulate and be in the way. People walk on it, drive on it, ride their bikes on it, all the normal stuff except the obvious SHOVELING it and PLOWING it.
I’m being somewhat unfair here by not mentioning that many of the streets are paved with cobblestones, and clearly plowing would tear them up. The sidewalks, too, are paved either with granite slabs (about as slippery as anything I can imagine, even when they’re just wet, let alone snowy) or with hundreds of smallish (5 cm) squarish cobbles. Both streets and sidewalks are very attractive, but plowing and shoveling wouldn’t be very practical.
So, instead of getting cleared off, the snow gets packed down into a solid, frozen, slippery crust. The students at school enjoy this crust and (with a little instigation from me, I admit) took to taking a good running start across the playground to seeing how far they could slide. On the other hand, it made the soccer court somewhat more of an adventure than usual. One day two of the kids and I played a game at our local playground in which actual soccer skill was irrelevant, it was only about who could stop and then get going again in the right direction first.
Surprisingly, they don’t use salt here, either, nor sand. Instead they spread tiny bits of broken stone on the sidewalks (see picture), which have a lovely habit of working their way into the soles of your shoes so as to scratch up the nice parquet floors. Perhaps there is some agreement between the flooring companies and the guys who work on the sidewalks; maybe it’s even the same guys but in different seasons. I expect this goes some way toward explaining why in most German households you take your shoes off when you come in; otherwise your floors get ruined and you have to have them refinished or go to IKEA to buy a cheap laminate flooring to put over it. Or a rug, but then you’d need a vacuum cleaner, too. Oy. (Side note: a nice little tradition here is to have a selection of guest slippers that visitors can wear. I like it!)
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Berlinale
We've enjoyed the Berlin Film Festival, also known as the Berlinale. We didn't really get to the big name films, or even get to see the restored big screen epics like West Side Story and Ben Hur. But it's still been pretty interesting to see it going on and to be a part of it in some small way.
Each of us grownups has taken our class to see a set of short films, which is a fun thing to do with a group of students. My class went to see 6 short films, all of which were about young people, with topics ranging from bullies blowing things up to a boy disappearing in a cave opening onto the ocean (did he die? Don't know!) to the finale which involved a trio of girls taking turns pretending to do something they shouldn't in a closet with a spoon. Eewwww....but suffice it to say that this one too was about bullying and in the end the bullied girl spectacularly turned the tables on her tormentors. A little bit of the diner scene from When Harry Met Sally. The kids were really talking about that one! We'll have to hope for not too many parent emails about this trip!
Today we saw an interesting film from the Czech Republic, called Who's Afraid of the Wolf? It was billed as a romance you can take the kids to, but I didn't think it was so kid-friendly. A little girl sees her parents' relationship breaking up after the sudden arrival of her biological father (which she doesn't know anything about) and interprets her mother's weirdness as evidence that she's really an alien. A great reminder of the dangers of making off-hand comments to kids without thinking through how they might interpret it. I probably would have enjoyed it more if I weren't worried about what the kids were thinking.
Each of us grownups has taken our class to see a set of short films, which is a fun thing to do with a group of students. My class went to see 6 short films, all of which were about young people, with topics ranging from bullies blowing things up to a boy disappearing in a cave opening onto the ocean (did he die? Don't know!) to the finale which involved a trio of girls taking turns pretending to do something they shouldn't in a closet with a spoon. Eewwww....but suffice it to say that this one too was about bullying and in the end the bullied girl spectacularly turned the tables on her tormentors. A little bit of the diner scene from When Harry Met Sally. The kids were really talking about that one! We'll have to hope for not too many parent emails about this trip!
Today we saw an interesting film from the Czech Republic, called Who's Afraid of the Wolf? It was billed as a romance you can take the kids to, but I didn't think it was so kid-friendly. A little girl sees her parents' relationship breaking up after the sudden arrival of her biological father (which she doesn't know anything about) and interprets her mother's weirdness as evidence that she's really an alien. A great reminder of the dangers of making off-hand comments to kids without thinking through how they might interpret it. I probably would have enjoyed it more if I weren't worried about what the kids were thinking.
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Soccer (excuse me, Fußball) fans
We got on the train today to go wherever it was we were going--just how we get around now, what with no car--and it was jammed with people. Everyone seemed a bit surprised at the crowd, but a few people with blue-and-white scarves, or caps, clued us in that perhaps some of them were headed for Olympiastadion for today's soccer match. Hertha BSC, the local Bundesliga club (for those who don't know, that's like the German major league in soccer), is very good this year. Apparently they are perennial cellar-dwellers who suddenly find themselves atop the league standings.
Anyway we had to change trains at Friedrichstrasse. The train we were switching to was on the track opposite the one going to Olympiastadion, and this platform was even MORE crowded. Now everyone was wearing blue-and-white and it was a bit like Kenmore Square before a Red Sox game. The train pulled in, and we could tell before it stopped that it was full--but the doors opened and it turned out to be full of Bayern München fans! Not surprisingly, the BSC Hertha fans couldn't get in, and as the doors sat open we began to hear some Bayern songs. One brave (foolish?) soul even stuck a Bayern flag out the door and started waving it. The train was literally bouncing on the tracks as it pulled out of the station.
Fortunately everyone seemed pretty good natured about it. Probably with Red Sox-Yankee fans it wouldn't have gone so well.
Anyway we had to change trains at Friedrichstrasse. The train we were switching to was on the track opposite the one going to Olympiastadion, and this platform was even MORE crowded. Now everyone was wearing blue-and-white and it was a bit like Kenmore Square before a Red Sox game. The train pulled in, and we could tell before it stopped that it was full--but the doors opened and it turned out to be full of Bayern München fans! Not surprisingly, the BSC Hertha fans couldn't get in, and as the doors sat open we began to hear some Bayern songs. One brave (foolish?) soul even stuck a Bayern flag out the door and started waving it. The train was literally bouncing on the tracks as it pulled out of the station.
Fortunately everyone seemed pretty good natured about it. Probably with Red Sox-Yankee fans it wouldn't have gone so well.
Friday, February 6, 2009
Tropical Islands. In Germany.
For more photos of this adventure, check out our SmugMug gallery by clicking here
Wednesday, we went tropical. Or maybe we should say Tropical, as in Tropical Islands. Something of a cross between Club Med, an enclosed stadium, and your typical suburban mall, Tropical Islands boasts the world’s largest indoor rainforest and the highest water slide in
Germany. It also has a “spa,” which translates into English as “naked sauna” and to Russian (I think) as something about “nudystlow,” or “place for the nudies.” Not surprisingly, TI also appears to have the world’s highest prices for a mall-quality burger and fries and the most-understaffed ice cream bar. Despite this particular annoyance we enjoyed ourselves quite a bit. And no fear of sunburn!
We found ourselves at TI thanks to a lovely (and much appreciated!) gift from some parents in my class. As we weren’t going anywhere in this dreary February vacation, and we had gift certificates that covered the entrance fee (which isn’t unreasonable), we decided to give it a shot. Sadly, the beach tents and hotel rooms were all fully booked for the whole month, so despite assurances from the folks on the phone that it would be OK if we just wanted to sleep on the beach, we decided to just go for the day.
Up and out early (for us), on the train by 9, arriving at TI via a shuttle bus ride through the abandoned air base where it’s situated (ah, capitalism!). Having fought our way through the crowds, we are assigned lockers, each of which is opened magnetically by a numbered wristband. This is genius. There is no need for money at TI (see the ClubMed bit here?) because all you need is your wristband. Just wave it at the register, or the entrance to the water slide, or whatever, and the cost is added to your bill. The problem, of course, is familiar to those from Boston—kind of a Charlie and the MTA issue. Whatever you spend, you have to pay to get out. We all wondered what would happen if you didn’t have the money.
Anyway, the first sign that things were different was the woman changing into her swimsuit right there next to me in the locker area. Not like the good ol’ USA where you could get arrested for something like that. We all managed to get changed (some of us in changing rooms, some not) and headed out to the beach.
The beach turned out to be about 5 yards wide, facing the “sea,” a giant 1.5-meter deep swimming pool faced on the other side by a giant blue wall painted to look like the sky. If you’re thinking “The Truman Show,” you’ve got it about right. People are packed into every available millimeter, and we had to shoehorn ourselves into a spot. It’s not really summer-hot in there, and it definitely isn’t sunny, but it was nice enough to go swimming. Lifeguards (and space) seemed to be in short supply, so there wasn’t much in the way of relaxing on the beach for the grownups.
After an overpriced lunch, we swam some more and then headed to the spa area to try to relax and warm up. Our children demonstrated their deep-set sheepiness and baa’ed their way after Mommy despite assurances that they didn’t HAVE to go to the spa. Well, anyway, it really was for the nudies. They even had an attendant come over to the whirlpool and tell those cowards who tried to sneak in with their suits (not us!) that they had to get out and take them off. We saw a lot of different comfort levels with this concept…some folks kept a towel wrapped around them while they stripped down, looking around nervously, some just couldn’t bring themselves to do it at all, and others just strolled about in their nothingness. It didn’t take long for the kids to recognize that although they were mostly OK with the naked thing (after all, we’re not so modest at our house), they didn’t really like sitting around in a REALLY hot room doing nothing. So it didn’t end up being all that relaxing as we kept having to get up and go back out. I never did try the room which was listed at 85-90° C (about 190 F) and 5% humidity. Now THAT’S hot.
We waited in an excruciatingly long line for excruciatingly mediocre ice cream, then split up for mini-golf and a trip to the lagoon, which turned out to be a lot of fun. Two water slides in the dark, a huge waterfall, kid-friendly depth, and warm water made it a great place to play. Should have come here first! Then we chose play time over another excruciatingly overpriced food experience and headed to the WATERSLIDES. No joke here. The red one was cool, big enough to ride with inner tubes. The yellow was high, lots of twists and turns, fast and much fun. The blue slide…a different kettle of fish all together. Straight. High. Steep. Very narrow and closed, so you can’t sit up. Once you’re in, there’s just about time to say “Oh my God, this is too stee—“ before you’re whipping around the corner, water shooting up your nose, and into the tank at the bottom. Worth doing once; maybe the second time, when you know what it is, it’s more fun, but none of us were interested after one trip down.
By the time we finished on the slides it was 7:00 and we were running out of steam. We watched a bit of the “show,” (clearly still in the rehearsal stages, though there were some cool acrobatics) then packed up and headed out. Stood in the changing area with daughter no. 1 in full winter dress while a woman at the other end walked about in her bikini. Strange juxtaposition. Missed the shuttle bus we wanted, and had to wait 45 minutes for the next one.
The bus was late. We knew the train wouldn’t be (it IS Germany, after all). The driver seemed in no hurry…stopping to chat with his pals, taking his time, casually meandering through the parking lot…it wasn’t ONLY us uptight Americans who wanted to grab and shake him. The next train, after all, wasn’t leaving for TWO HOURS. After 15 agonizing minutes of cruising back down the deserted taxiways, past abandoned hangars, and out onto the local roads, we arrived in time to send the bus full of people sprinting through the tunnel to the Berlin side of the tracks. We all made it with at least two minutes to spare…and so, home.
Wednesday, we went tropical. Or maybe we should say Tropical, as in Tropical Islands. Something of a cross between Club Med, an enclosed stadium, and your typical suburban mall, Tropical Islands boasts the world’s largest indoor rainforest and the highest water slide in
Germany. It also has a “spa,” which translates into English as “naked sauna” and to Russian (I think) as something about “nudystlow,” or “place for the nudies.” Not surprisingly, TI also appears to have the world’s highest prices for a mall-quality burger and fries and the most-understaffed ice cream bar. Despite this particular annoyance we enjoyed ourselves quite a bit. And no fear of sunburn!We found ourselves at TI thanks to a lovely (and much appreciated!) gift from some parents in my class. As we weren’t going anywhere in this dreary February vacation, and we had gift certificates that covered the entrance fee (which isn’t unreasonable), we decided to give it a shot. Sadly, the beach tents and hotel rooms were all fully booked for the whole month, so despite assurances from the folks on the phone that it would be OK if we just wanted to sleep on the beach, we decided to just go for the day.
Up and out early (for us), on the train by 9, arriving at TI via a shuttle bus ride through the abandoned air base where it’s situated (ah, capitalism!). Having fought our way through the crowds, we are assigned lockers, each of which is opened magnetically by a numbered wristband. This is genius. There is no need for money at TI (see the ClubMed bit here?) because all you need is your wristband. Just wave it at the register, or the entrance to the water slide, or whatever, and the cost is added to your bill. The problem, of course, is familiar to those from Boston—kind of a Charlie and the MTA issue. Whatever you spend, you have to pay to get out. We all wondered what would happen if you didn’t have the money.
Anyway, the first sign that things were different was the woman changing into her swimsuit right there next to me in the locker area. Not like the good ol’ USA where you could get arrested for something like that. We all managed to get changed (some of us in changing rooms, some not) and headed out to the beach.
The beach turned out to be about 5 yards wide, facing the “sea,” a giant 1.5-meter deep swimming pool faced on the other side by a giant blue wall painted to look like the sky. If you’re thinking “The Truman Show,” you’ve got it about right. People are packed into every available millimeter, and we had to shoehorn ourselves into a spot. It’s not really summer-hot in there, and it definitely isn’t sunny, but it was nice enough to go swimming. Lifeguards (and space) seemed to be in short supply, so there wasn’t much in the way of relaxing on the beach for the grownups.After an overpriced lunch, we swam some more and then headed to the spa area to try to relax and warm up. Our children demonstrated their deep-set sheepiness and baa’ed their way after Mommy despite assurances that they didn’t HAVE to go to the spa. Well, anyway, it really was for the nudies. They even had an attendant come over to the whirlpool and tell those cowards who tried to sneak in with their suits (not us!) that they had to get out and take them off. We saw a lot of different comfort levels with this concept…some folks kept a towel wrapped around them while they stripped down, looking around nervously, some just couldn’t bring themselves to do it at all, and others just strolled about in their nothingness. It didn’t take long for the kids to recognize that although they were mostly OK with the naked thing (after all, we’re not so modest at our house), they didn’t really like sitting around in a REALLY hot room doing nothing. So it didn’t end up being all that relaxing as we kept having to get up and go back out. I never did try the room which was listed at 85-90° C (about 190 F) and 5% humidity. Now THAT’S hot.
We waited in an excruciatingly long line for excruciatingly mediocre ice cream, then split up for mini-golf and a trip to the lagoon, which turned out to be a lot of fun. Two water slides in the dark, a huge waterfall, kid-friendly depth, and warm water made it a great place to play. Should have come here first! Then we chose play time over another excruciatingly overpriced food experience and headed to the WATERSLIDES. No joke here. The red one was cool, big enough to ride with inner tubes. The yellow was high, lots of twists and turns, fast and much fun. The blue slide…a different kettle of fish all together. Straight. High. Steep. Very narrow and closed, so you can’t sit up. Once you’re in, there’s just about time to say “Oh my God, this is too stee—“ before you’re whipping around the corner, water shooting up your nose, and into the tank at the bottom. Worth doing once; maybe the second time, when you know what it is, it’s more fun, but none of us were interested after one trip down.
By the time we finished on the slides it was 7:00 and we were running out of steam. We watched a bit of the “show,” (clearly still in the rehearsal stages, though there were some cool acrobatics) then packed up and headed out. Stood in the changing area with daughter no. 1 in full winter dress while a woman at the other end walked about in her bikini. Strange juxtaposition. Missed the shuttle bus we wanted, and had to wait 45 minutes for the next one.
The bus was late. We knew the train wouldn’t be (it IS Germany, after all). The driver seemed in no hurry…stopping to chat with his pals, taking his time, casually meandering through the parking lot…it wasn’t ONLY us uptight Americans who wanted to grab and shake him. The next train, after all, wasn’t leaving for TWO HOURS. After 15 agonizing minutes of cruising back down the deserted taxiways, past abandoned hangars, and out onto the local roads, we arrived in time to send the bus full of people sprinting through the tunnel to the Berlin side of the tracks. We all made it with at least two minutes to spare…and so, home.
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