Cheap wine

Wine here is cheap.
By that I don't mean it's bad. I just mean it doesn't cost very much. You can buy wine in the grocery store, the open-seven-days-a-week kiosk, and the drug store (where, ironically, you can buy everything except medicine). While Germany is more famous for beer than for wine, we are still in Europe, where half of all the world's wine is consumed. I am no expert, but it's pretty good.

So why are wines so much cheaper here? I have a few theories for you:

Demand - The world's top ten wine-drinking countries are all in Europe. The French drink 8 liters a year per capita, and the Germans just over 3 liters, but the U.S. has far fewer wine-os at 1.3 liters per year. Is the wine cheap because wine drinking is more common, or is wine drinking more common because the wine is cheap?

Travel costs - Forget German wines for a minute, because I think they are gross and don't buy them. But most other wines you can get here are made not too far away. There is a bottle of Italian wine on my shelf. I think it cost 2.99. It comes from Veneto, which is about 1,000km (600 miles) from here. That's the same distance and Minneapolis to Wichita.

I am partial to the Spanish reds, though. I have a 3.99 Rioja right now that comes from Navarra in Spain. That's a bit farther at 1700km, which is more like traveling from Minneapolis to somewhere between Denver and Salt Lake City. Your Napa Valley wine would have to travel twice that far to make it to your Twin Cities dinner table.

*On a side note, an old Swiss man I met in the customs line at Frankfurt airport told me that wine is produced in every state in the U.S. He owns a vineyard in Oregon, so he should know. I consulted the all-knowing internet and found that this is true. He also told me that people in India don't have heart attacks because they eat turmeric. That may or may not be true - the internet is inconclusive. Of course, I was in the early stages of jet lag at that point and it's possible that what I remember him saying is not entirely accurate. He was probably talking about turtle marriages (get it? tur marriage = turmeric? I am glad I'm not there to hear you not laughing at my dumb joke).*

Subsidies - The European Union provides 1.3 billion euros ($1.7 billion) in subsidies to its wine producers every year. That helps keep prices artificially low because producers have support from the government and don't pass all their costs on to consumers.

The mortgage - I found another reason in this  article. It's one I hadn't thought of before. A lot of vineyards in Spain and Italy and France, and even Portugal, Greece and Romania, have been in the same family for centuries. In the U.S., vineyards have been in the same family for... decades. They are still paying the mortgage.

Since many consumer items are more expensive in Germany than in the U.S., I feel like I should take advantage of this deal on wine. It's time to dig in my pockets for change, head to the drug store, and pick up a bottle or two. And even if it's not the highest quality vintage, it's probably better than the wine they make in Wichita.

Don't drink the water

Since people are apparently still reading this blog, I decided to do another series of posts. It's not as exciting as the one dairy products, maybe, but this post is the first in a three part series about drinks. It includes all of your standard liquids: water, wine, and beer.

In which of these scenes are you living in Germany?
1. You sit down un a restaurant and before you even order, the waiter brings you a tall, frosty glass of ice water. Later he comes by with a pitcher and refills it.
2. A friend offers to get you a drink from her kitchen. You ask for a glass of water. She opens a bottle and it goes pssshhhhh.

The correct answer is number 2. If you were in Germany in scene number 1, you'd better tell me where you are eating so I can go there.

Despite the fact that Germany has cleaner tap water than most countries in the world, Germans prefer to drink from the bottle. There are 528 brands of bottled water in Germany, compared with 183 in the US and 13 in Sweden. In Berlin, there are 18 public drinking fountains for its 3 million residents. And the name for drinking water in German is Leitungswasser, which literally translates as 'plumbing water'. Hmmm that sounds appealing.

So why don't they drink from the tap? The number one reason in my highly informed expert opinion is bubbles. Most bottled water is sparkling. It comes in different levels of carbonation: light, medium, and regular. And for a population that is big on being environmentally friendly, it uses a lot of plastic bottles. If you had the choice between sparkling water and plumbing water, which would you take?

Let's go back to the restaurant scene. What really happens is that you look at a menu and see that water costs as much as beer, or maybe more. You could order a still water but decide to ask for tap water instead. Here are the rules I have figured out:
1. If you order tap water alongside another drink, you are more likely to get it. So you can order a wine and a water or a Coke and a water, but not a water and a water.
2. There will be no ice and no unsolicited refills.
3. Sometimes the server will casually forget that you asked for tap water. Sometimes you get a funny look. Once in a while they just say no.

With all of these barriers to consider, it's probably best to fill up a bottle at home, carry it around in your purse, and just order a beer.

Election weekend. It happened.

Sunday was election day. I just looked back on my posts and found that this election was the second one of 2013. In January, Niedersachsen state elections sent Hannover's mayor to the Landtag, the state congress. This time around, elections were held for a new mayor and for the national representatives, the Bundestag.
I will spare you any explanation of parlimentary democracy, the pirate party, or the black-gold coalition. To be honest I don't understand them very well anyway, and if you are interested just look at the post from Jan 22nd.

What I will tell you about it what election day looks like in Hannover to an outsider. I'm an outsider because I can't vote here and because I have no TV on which to watch annoying campaign commercials. Mostly what I see are posters. They are all sort of the same... you can look for yourself.
Here are the two mayoral candidates:

And here's a whole bunch of posters together. The design doesn't vary much no matter who is running:

And they show off not terribly catchy slogans like "successful together"or "for you in the Bundestag". Here are some posters for the national representative race:

Aside from the posters and some newspaper headlines, it would have been hard to know that Sunday was election day in Hannover (I don't buy the newspaper either but sometimes I try to read the headlines as I walk past the kiosk). I didn't see any election night parties and no one sported and "I voted" sticker (the best part of U.S. election day is watching adults walk around like second graders, proud to have stickers on their shirts. I am one of them). There are no cute animals to represent political parties, only colors. And since the whole country is in one time zone, there is no early tally as the east coast polls close and suspense until west coast votes come in three hours later. In the end, even the most die-hard political supporters could see their party not win outright, but strike up a coalition with the same people they just ran against. In fact, no party has had an absolute majority in 50 years.

Let's think in stereotypes for a minute (admit it, stereotypes are easy and fun). The German election is very, well, German. It is logical and practical and not terribly dramatic or exciting. It minds its own business and takes only controlled risks. It wears a scarf, glasses and skinny jeans.
The American election lives up to its stereotype too. It is full of showing off and flashiness and drama but in the end probably doesn't deliver on all its promises. It's dressed in something like go-go boots and a leopard print tube top.

I do support the idea of having election day on a weekend, rather than the first Tuesday after the first Monday after the Olympics on the non leap year during the full moon, or whenever the U.S. opens its polls. I know that the first Tuesday in November was the most convenient day for early 19th century farmers, but it's trickier for the Monday - Friday crowd. And, as loyal reader Nick Falk points out, Tuesday night is 45 cent wing night at Buffalo Wild Wings. I can't believe the founding fathers didn't think about that.

There is a small amount of excitement in this election: a runoff. Neither candidate won an absolute majority in the election for Hannover's mayor, so they'll do it all over again on October 6th. Hopefully that will generate some buzz in town... maybe the candidates will even ditch their dress shoes and wear some go-go boots on election night.

Nazi streets

The city of Hannover is reviewing the list of its streets, schools, and community centers to find out if they were named after Nazis. There are about 400 streets named after people who lived during the time of National Socialism, so I'm sure that some of them will be on the "naughty list". I know for a fact there is a Hindenburgstrasse not far from us, near the Hannover Zoo. Paul von Hindenburg was guy who appointed Hitler as chancellor, and the namesake of the famous exploded blimp. I am guessing that his street's on the hit list. So what happens then?

According to the Hannover newspaper, the city can only make decisions about memorial sites, community centers, and plaques about historic places. The neighborhood councils are in charge of street names, and schools decide for themselves. If a street is found to be named after a Nazi, the name could be changed, depending on what the neighborhood wants. The news article mentions the other option of adding a plaque under the offending street sign that refers to "historical problems". That could be an understatement. How much fine print could you fit on the plaque?

The streets in Hannover (and I think all of Germany) seem to change names roughly after every 43 meters, after every curve in the road, and/or after every third elm tree, so changing a street name or 200 wouldn't make getting aruond any more confusing than it already is, at least for me. I have mostly given up on street names and gone to an all landmark navigation system in my head. And the street names I do know get Americanized to fit more easily into my brain. So Ferdinand Wallbrecht Strasse becomes "Ferdy Wall" and Rudolf Bennigsen Ufer becomes "that street where they have the flea market".

Would changing the street names be cheating? Would it be an attempt to erase or ignore history? Naming a street after someone is an honor, but does that honor need to last forever?
I remember going to the history museum in Santiago when I did my semester in Chile. The exhibits were very informative until they reached 1973 and then... just stopped.

Of course, I would not want to buy a house on Hitler Allee or Pinochet Place or Pol Pot Avenue. Maybe it is best to leave the decisions up to the people living in that neighborhood. They can figure out whether it's worth posting a disclaimer plaque about the street's namesake's political affiliations, crimes against humanity, or other entanglements. Of course, if you are unhappy with the name of the street you are on, just keep going. It will have a new name just after the next tree.

My international school

I went back to German class this week after a summer off. I know that Brian and I work at The International School (note capital letters), but when I'm at class I go to my own international school. Here's a little about some of my classmates this semester:

The Ukranian ladies - there are five Ukranian women in my class, all between about 45 and 65 years old. They talk to each other in Russian. I have recently learned that Russian is more commonly spoken than Ukranian in some parts of the Ukraine. Rayissa is a retired physicist who wears really brightly colored clothing, including plenty of teal. Like Ludmila, many of them have lived in Germany for ten or fifteen years, but haven't learned much German.

Naeem is from Pakistan. He said he's a mechanic but has no oily fingers and uses an English-German dictionary in class. I have a feeling he's more of an engineer than a grease monkey.

A few of my old classmates are still with me. There's Ibrahim, the retired construction worker from Azerbaijan and a bit of a philosopher, Ronak from the Kurdish part of Iraq who is a cleaner at Hannover's biggest hospital, Valentina, who's another Ukranian grandma, and Mohammad from Afghanistan who stocks mini bars at a hotel. Mohammad and I usually sit together and sometimes he tells me about how he's getting out of Germany as soon as he gets his passport and as soon as he gets his wife to join him (she's in Tehran).

We have two shy Ecuadorian kids in class too. I say kids because they are 16 and 17 and are here for a year on a student exchange. Felipe seems to keep up with the class but Melissa struggles a little. They go to high school all day and then to German class for two hours. They will probably learn faster than all of us, and everyone in the class wants to take care of them.

Ayong and Amina stick together. They are in our course, which is a level too high for them, because the class they should take is full. Ayong is Korean and tall and thin and fashionable. Amina is from Lebanon, keeps her head covered, and speaks German with a French accent.

The class that Dejan should be in was also full, so he's re-doing our level. He's bald, smart, and doesn't take any notes. So far, both of the Serbian men I have met are named Dejan.  The other one has hair.

Iman says she is an IT person, but I don't really believe it. Nothing against IT people, but she is so friendly and outgoing and full of smiles that I can't imagine her programming computers. She's from Jordan.

There's also Nazanin from Iran who looks just like the Wicked Witch of the West. She has a long nose with a wart and messy black hair and wears green sweaters.

I've also changed my attitude on taking German classes. It's not like taking a language in college where we had to keep progressing to the next level. Learning German because I live in Germany is more like getting a suntan. I need a little exposure every day.  Now that I have the basics down, what we talk about isn't as important as the fact that we are talking. Eventually I'll know the right grammar because it sounds right, not because I learned it from a book. Eventually I'd like to ask Ibrahim his thoughts on globalization, or find out what Naznin has done with the ruby slippers.

I stand corrected

I know that I mentioned in my triathlon post that no one in countries with actual problems should be worrying about silly old triathlons, but I stand corrected.

Check out this article from The Guardian about Iran's first female triathlete. She will compete in the world championships in London, fully covered in an clothing approved by the Iranian sports ministry.
Her swimsuit adds an extra 6kg to her weight in the water, and she will change clothes in a private tent after the swim and bike. It takes a real athlete, and pioneer, to race in full hijab. 

Vegas of the North

Our friends Katja and Andrew just got married a few weeks ago... in Denmark. It wasn't exactly an elopement and certainly not a destination wedding. They were married there because it was easy.

If a German citizen (like Katja) wants to marry someone from another country (like Andrew), the couple first needs to go to the local government offices (the Standesamt) to discuss what documents are needed for the marriage application. Andrew and Katja met with Herr Kockmueller (I will let you imagine what sort of a nickname they gave him) who asked for their passports and proof of residence. In addition, Andrew had to get the following documents from back home in Australia, all issued within the last six months: a certified birth certificate, an official copy of his divorce certificate, and a statement from the local government showing that he was free to marry. All of these documents needed to be translated into German by an official translator who is authorized to work on government documents (i.e. charge a lot of money).

Andrew and Katja showed up at their next appointment with Herr Kockmueller, all documents in hand.  He told them that they weren't finished yet - Andrew also needed a certified copy of the marriage certificate from his first marriage, which would show that he had married the same person that he had proof of later divorcing. When they argued that Herr Kockmueller had never asked for the marriage certificate before, he said, "Yes, I know I did. Whenever I request a document I always write it down. And look, here it is written down in your file." If that's not proof enough, I don't know what is. Oh, and also, each of the documents that came from Australia and then were translated also needed an apostille.

An apostille is basically a document stating that the person who signs official documents (like birth certificates, etc) has the authority to sign them. The apostille was made up by the 1961 Geneva Convention as a way to show that documents from foreign countries are authentic. Americans need to contact the secretary of state from wherever the document was issued to get one. They cost money too - anywhere from $2-$20 per page for Americans (Andrew would have had to pay 16 Australian dollars each). So who signs the apostille? and does that person need some other paper to say he/she has the authority to do it? who signs that? It could go on and on.

In frustration, Andrew called the Australian embassy.  They told him to just go get married in Denmark because it's easier. The border towns of Denmark are sort of a Las Vegas of the North. There are no showgirls or high rollers, but there are a lot of cheap, fast weddings. About 6000 non-Danish couples get married in Denmark every year, many of them bi-national couples who live in Germany. In Andrew and Katja's case, they called up the city hall of a Danish border town and made an appointment for the following week. They had to stay in Denmark for three days and show ID and proof of marital status. That was it. So with a receipt for three nights paid at the local campground and their passports, they tied the knot. The Danes even offered to provide witnesses if Katja and Andrew hadn't brought their own. Unfortunately they did not offer to have Elvis preside over the wedding.

Triathlon photos

As promised, here is a link to the triathlon photos.

They are not ultra-glamorous, but when I saw the photographers I at least made sure that my mouth was closed... most of the time.

Hannover triathlon 2013

I competed in the Hannover triathlon yesterday. I did pretty well - 9th place of women overall. I've been doing triathlons for about 10 years. And it still isn't easy. I started to think today about why I do them in the first place. Why don't I just go for a jog like a normal person?

Brian has long argued that white people invented the triathlon so there would be a sport that they could dominate. The same goes for the entire winter Olympics. Triathlon is a good sport for people like me who are not great at throwing and catching things, and the complexity (I won't say 'skill') comes from combining three sports into one. It's also (though I don't like to admit it) an elitist sport. It starts with three very simple activities - swimming, biking and running - and adds fancy bikes and high-end running shoes and wetsuits and and entry fees until it's not so simple any more. Triathlon is not as exclusive as downhill skiing or tennis or golf... in terms of costs. It is exclusive in terms of people wondering what sort of crazy person you must be to do one.

I think triathlon attracts people because it has a very controlled element of risk. There's some adventure in it. There are high speeds. You can get hurt, you can save time or lose time in any number of ways and everyone in the race has a weakness. People with real struggles and challenges in their lives don't need to do triathlons. No one in Syria or Afghanistan right now should be worried about how fast he can take off a wetsuit.

Yesterday was my second appearance in the Hannover triathlon, which takes place in our big man-made lake, the Maschsee. You may have read my posts before about how there are huge man-eating carp in the Maschsee. The main thing I was worried about before last year's race was getting devoured by them. But since I survived, and got 4th place, I decided to sign up again. This year I also managed to escape the carp during a very full-contact swim (We probably all looked like salmon swimming over each other to get upstream. Wearing goggles is important so you don't come out of the water with a black eye). The short story on the rest of the race was that it was kind of hard but I did pretty well. This year I only got 9th, though, and 3rd in my age group. I know that's good since there were 120 women, but it would be better if I had placed as well as last year. I should add that there were 370 men in the race... I guess most German ladies would rather just go for a jog like normal people.

So why do I do triathlons? I'm an active person and I like the variety of doing different stuff every time I train. Maybe that little bit of risk is exciting for me. But to tell you the truth - I like the competition. A lot of people do triathlons just to finish. That is all wonderful, but I like to beat people. It's a side of me that doesn't come out to play very often. I like it when I can set my sights on someone ahead of me and close in until I pass them. I like it when some big guy named Jorg watches me go by and realizes he got passed by a girl.

In a week or so, the Hannover triathlon people will email me some photos from the race. I am not going to buy one, but I'll post one on the blog for you to see. I don't look particularly mean in my '90s era triathlon suit and my bike helmet. Maybe I'd be more intimidating with a black eye.