Next Year's Living Arrangements

Just today, I learned where I'll be living in Germany. 

It's a small, North German city of about 150,000 called Neuss, just to the West of Düsseldorf. I'm extremely excited, as Düsseldorf is very similar in size to my current city of residence, and Neuss, from what I've seen via Google images, is home to some seriously beautiful, medieval architecture (as well as located on the Rhine). As an added bonus, I'll be very close to the Netherlands, Belgium and France. Train trips are in my future.

I really haven't researched all that thoroughly yet, but I did find an interesting fact about Neuss somewhere on the internet: apparently, there's a huge heap of garbage somewhere in the city that people there are considering making into a ski slope (because the rest of the terrain is, apparently, quite flat). Somehow, the idea that I will be living in a city where the residents will gladly ski down a mountainous trash heap comforts me beyond measure. It sounds like something people would do where I live (after they'd gotten over bitching about the environmental irresponsibility of having a mountainous trash heap, which admittedly could take ages).

Disappointments and Quandaries

First of all, I didn't go cosmic bowling.

Ok, so this wasn't entirely disappointing, as I was severely tired and hungry by 9:30 last night, which was a full hour before I was supposed to show up. Still, it would have been enjoyable, as bowling tends to bring out the ridiculous in everyone.

Then, the Phil Elverum show...

I won't say that it was horrible. Phil Elverum was good. But the venue was a building that is an extension of a well-known state university where I live, and, well, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was sitting in a college seminar called "Hear Phil Elverum Play 101." In fact, huddling on the floor (there weren't enough chairs--I blame the local "indie" media for making this so well publicized), squished in next to hipsters in aviators, skinny jeans, and second-hand cardigans, I felt more like an eager second-grader at a school assembly than anything else. But at second-grade assemblies, nobody has piercings or drinks tall glasses of beer. 

I would have been marginally ok with this scene if not for the fact that, for about forty minutes before Phil Elverum even played, everyone in the room was subjected to some "local artist's" installation that consisted of ear-drum-bustingly loud white noise (mostly recorded crashings of local waterfalls, amplified ten-fold and combined with what sounded like the squeals of tires on an expressway) and seizure-inducing black and white images rolling and flashing around on a screen at dizzying speed. This went on. And on. And onnnn. Do you see where I'm going with this? I was bored almost into a state of catatonia. Hipsters all around were discreetly leaving, hands held over their ears or clutching their cell phones as they frantically texted, presumably informing their friends that Phil Elverum was not playing and that they were bored. Or at least, that is what I would have conveyed, had I been in their place. Finally, mercifully, the noise--excuse me, the art--ended. Would Phil Elverum finally play?

No. Instead, there was an interminable interview with the "artist," in which he talked about "mother nature's power" and some sycophants enthusiastically volunteered that his work had helped them to "find their quiet place." Please. The worst stereotypes about the art world were confirmed and displayed for all to see, and I had to hold back a derisive snicker. My friend who was with me was trying hard not to look too amused, and we kept shooting each other knowing glances. The upside to the interview is that Phil Elverum, when asked "Don't you strive to create his quality of sound when you perform?" answered in this quiet, unassuming voice, "I don't think I could ever make that much noise." I felt a little sorry for the "artist" as Phil Eleverum continued to underhandedly insult his work, but I was too annoyed that I'd had to sit through half an hour of it to really be that sympathetic.

All in all, I've had better Saturdays. Today it's work, and then study, and then crash. I could not be less stoked. On the upside, I'm looking forward to Germany, and have been thinking about my year ahead frequently as my departure date looms closer. Three months? Where has the time gone? Only three months left in my beautiful city, three months left with my wonderful friends, three months left eating my home-cooked meals, sleeping in my own bed, waking up to the familiar view out of my window of the flowering trees. Three months left in which to hike for the last time along my favorite trails to the beach, camp for the last time in the mountains, see local shows, walk around the city snapping photos. Yes, I can do all of this in Germany. And I can do it when I get back. But I'll be gone for a full year, and it seems very final. Like I have to cram in everything I've ever wanted to do here before I leave.

I've also been thinking/wondering a lot about what it will be like to live in Germany. Mostly just about the quality of life--what the dating scene is like, whether there is cheap ethnic food, whether there are organic farms, if I'll be able to work out when I'm there, what people generally do on the weekends, if the coffee is good, etc. With the whole internet at my fingertips, I still haven't really been able to glean much information about the real, everyday lives of those who live in Germany, and I doubt that my experience will really be similar to others', anyway--I believe everyone experiences a country differently depending on their individual tastes and beliefs. But I'd still really like to be able to have an in-depth conversation with someone else who's lived/studied there, even if our experiences won't be similar. I feel like it would put this whole situation into perspective for me.