Austrian Audventure: Salzburg

I heard from a lot of people that Salzburg is really pretty. And I love how Vienna sounds. So last weekend I embarked on an alliteration adventure in Austria (pronounce the As similarly, please). I took the bus to Munich Thursday night, in order to get an early train to Salzburg Friday morning.

Shortly before I left, the adventure began when Deutsche Bahn announced a strike to last from Thursday to Monday. Woooooo!

Not Wooooo. I got real nervous until I did more research and realized that my trains were operated by the Austrian bahn company, which meant everything should run smoothly (if be a bit crowded).

So, with a heart attack checked off my to-do list, I set off to Munich. I slept at a hostel, one which I would recommend to people wanting to be social and make friends, buuuut I mostly I wanted to sleep, which was a bit hard. A very sleepy Sara(h) boarded a train early Friday morning, but on the upside the train was (weirdly) super empty and I had a whole compartment to myself!

The train ride was short, and I got into Salzburg around 10am. I was greeted by bahn employees handing out free gingerbread to everybody, so you know, off to a good start.After I figured out the luggage storage situation I found myself kind of just standing in the middle of the station, unsure what to do next. Or how to get to any of the places I had thought about going. Picking up a map seemed like a good idea, so I did that, then walked to Mirabell Gardens.

Given that when you google image search Mirabell Gardens most of the pictures that come up portray sunny days, frolicking children, and Julie Andrews, there was a huge difference between what I had in my head and what I saw in real life. However, the gardens were still beautiful.

The gardens were complete with someone dressed up as Mozart.
I think this freaked me out more than any silver person ever has (and those of you who know me know there are very few things I can't stand more than silver people). He just gave me the heebee jeebees! And, being Salzburg this was by far not the last "Mozart" I saw. Aye.

After this, I wandered my way to the old town, and found a place to eat Salzburger Nockerl.

So here's the thing. Before going to Austria I googled tasty Austrian foods to eat while I was in Austria. I came across Nockerl, and then looked into restaurants that served it. The fact that more than a few menus added in the food's description that is was for two or more people should have warned me.

Buuutttt, the place I picked out didn't have that in the description (one reason I picked it), and it was less expensive than the places with this note (another reason). So I thought I was in the clear, until this arrived at my table:

I should also add that as I first came in, I was the only one in the restaurant. As I waited for the small planet to arrive to my table (it's a 25 minute wait), more people filtered in. All of the English speaking customers happened to sit in my section, and we started chatting. More so even when the Nockerl arrived, and no one could hold back looks and comments of shock and awe.

Now I love sweet things. And raspberries. And I hate wasting food. But as soon as I saw this thing I knew I would not in a million years be able to finish it. I even wondered if the employees in the back were taking bets on how much I would be able to get through.Seriously this thing was just so big. I thought I would be able to get through two mountains, and was satisfied with this settlement. Afterall, how filling can egg whites be?

Very filling, it turns out. I finished half the dish (1 1/2 mountains). Which, I still think is pretty impressive.

At this point I was friends with everybody in the restaurant. I perpetuated the stereotype of loud American as I talked to an american couple from Ohio two tables away (to be fair they started the conversation, normally I wouldn't do this!). And I was invited to a drinking festival by the couple sitting at a table behind me (which I had to decline due to a late afternoon train to Vienna). 

Luigi in tow, I left the restaurant to wander the Getreidgasse-a cobblestone shopping street in Salzburg where all the shops have iron signs hanging out front, even McDonald's and little souvenir shops looks fancy. 

I had an embarrassing moment when I tried to buy stamps to send my friends and host family postcards. I asked the woman for a stamp for "Ausland" and one for "Deutschland", to which she reminded me that Deutschland is ausland. So, awkward. I also found out that postage costs almost twice as much in Austria as in Germany. So those of you waiting for a Viennese postcard, they are coming! I waited to come back to send them. And those of you that got postcards from Salzburg, count yourself among the lucky few, or side effects of Sara(h)'s naivete. 

While I was walking around all day, I kept seeing this large castle on a hill in the distance. Finally, I decided that I was going to walk up to it and see what the deal was. I couldn't figure out where it was on my map, because nothing in the direction it was was labeled a castle of sorts.

Turns out, it was a fortress (The Festung Hohensalzburg). Thus why I couldn't locate it on the map as a castle. Anyway, I decided to take a look inside, and wandered through the catapult gate, around the vulture tower, and through the cannon gallery. 

Then, I saw it.

A sign to go into the torture chamber.

Not that I am a crazy person. Or sadistic. Or masochistic. Or that I experience more schadenfreude than the normal human. But I was real curious about this and wanted to see a torture chamber.I had high expectations, yo!

I waited excitedly to get a little headset to walk around this section of the fortress. Finally, we were let in.

I

Was

So

SO

Disappointed.

Why was I disappointed, you ask? What could possibly go wrong with a torture chamber?

It was called a torture chamber because they used to store the tools for torturing there. 

What.

Even.

I was so excited over a storage closet.

-_-

I did my best to recover from this disappointment by drowning my self in some nice views. For the most part, this did the trick.

After this, I rushed down the hill to make my way back to the station to catch my train to Vienna :)

Sara Eats a Brezel the Size of a Small Planet

So, ya'll know I can't make a fast decision to save my life (which would be very unfortunate should this type of situation arise). So -ahem- abouttwomonthsago -ahem- when I went shopping for a dirndl to wear to Oktoberfest, I certainly had my work cut out for me.

A dirndl is a traditional Bavarian (yes, I realize I'm not actually in Bavaria, but still) dress type deal. I had seen them in a few clothing stores, and enough people who knew I would be around during Oktoberfest told me I should get one, that I knew eventually I should take a look at them. So, when I told my host mom I was going to go to Munich for the day about two weeks before Oktoberfest, she suggested I buy a dirndl while I was there, since there would be many more options than here.

Silly me asked, "So......can you get them at any store? Or are there shops specifically for dirndls?" I assumed that the answer would be the first, but it turns out there are stores (open all year, I think, not like pop up Halloween stores) where you can buy just dirndln and lederhosen. That Saturday, armed with lots of information on where to go for a dirndl, I wandered into Munich (I use "wander" loosely here, really I just took a bus.)

But, firstly, I wanted to go the the Viktualienmarkt for lunch. After getting lost on may way there, turning what is normally a 30 minute walk into 45 minutes of wandering down empty streets trying to figure out exactly where I was, I found the place. The market was packed of course, since it was Saturday. I wasn't really sure what I felt like eating, until a woman walked by me with a bretzel the size of planet Pluto. Then I knew. I waited in line for what felt like forever until I was finally able to ask for a grosse breze.

It was well worth the wait, and the salt-to-brezel ratio was perfect. That being said, it was still a lot of salt and I forgot to bring water (don't tell my host mom, she thinks (and is right) that I should drink more water just generally).

My pal Luigi was of course then present as I embarked on dirndl shopping,. However, considering how much I like German food, and how much of it is present at Oktoberfest, I thought having a food baby would make for a more accurate dress size when dirndl shopping.

Not that I thought it would be easy. I don't love love to shop (although I don't hate it so much anymore), and I am really indecisive, but I did not anticipate being so overwhelmed when I wandered into Tracht & Mehr to look for a dirndl. All along the walls were dirndls in every size, material, color, and length. Then there were aisles of blouses, aprons, and petticoats. I had no idea where to start. I wasn't even sure about my European size. I just stared at the dirndls. I looked to see what other people were doing. I walked out to take a deep breath. Then walked back in. A smiling woman in a dirndl asked if she could help me. Really, I should have just said yes. But, too embarrassed about my German and limited communication skills I said not yet. I stared at the dirndls some more. Then, still real overwhelmed at all of the choices, left to take a walk around the block (or more accurately, to the Milka Chocolate World).

When I returned, I had convinced myself that my German was not so terrible I wouldn't be able to understand simple questions, and that since it was a big city and the women working there were around my age, they probably spoke some English. It could work. I wandered back in to the shop. I didn't really know how to ask for help, so I waited until another smiling dirndl woman came over and asked if I needed help. I did, I told her, but also explained my German was not so great. She said it was no problem and switched to English. .

Mostly, I didn't know if I was supposed to try on a million blouse/apron/dirndl/petticoat sets, or pick things one at a time, or what. Turns out the process was pretty much try on dirndls and a blouse until you find one you like, then figure out the apron and petticoat situation. After trying on a million dirndln, then deciding that a different size was better and starting the process over, then trying to figure out the apron color, I ended up with this:

After an umburrassin' number of hours. That I won't mention here. Mostly because I don't remember exactly. Maybe three hours. 

It was a real long day. Good thing Luigi was still hanging around, because I had just a short amount of time afterward to get to the bus!

My Name is Sara and I Come from the U.S.A. and I speak....Speutalianish?

(Insert the usual apologies for not writing sooner here)

So let's be real, this language thing is a Struggle Bus.

I came here knowing close to zero of the Deutsch. I used Duolingo a bit, and flipped through a textbook, but I was not prepared to communicate with anyone unless I was saying "I eat bread. I drink water. I like chocolate.". I think I maybe almost didn't get my Visa (you have to know German for a visa here), because the woman had no idea what I was saying , so she just kept repeating the question over and over, which made me think I had understood wrong. But that's behind me, whew!

I tried to pick up the language as fast as I could, but when I would try to speaking with the kids I would start speaking Spanish when I didn't know the word in German. This helps no one- not only because I am supposed to help with their English but they also don't speak Spanish. For the most part I have stopped doing this, but every so often a word slips in when I am speaking too fast. Also I often just say pobrecito to my youngest.

I (Yes, three paragraphs starting with I. Clearly I'm not an English major.) should also mention the region I'm in has a really strong dialect. My host mom has said that she's had au pairs who come here already speaking German, but due to the dialect and accent they still had trouble understanding what people are saying. In this sense it was helpful to not know German beforehand, because I was somewhat of a blank slate when picking it up.

Let's fast forward three months. When I leave the area (whether it's to Hamburg, Berlin, or Switzerland), I have more trouble understanding people. This is mutual, as I'm sure that between my American/Swabian/toddler accent and grammar, I am not the easiest to understand either. Usually, if they can, people (sometimes in annoyance) switch to English to speak to me.

An interaction I had in Hamburg:
Me: Ein Milchkaffee bitte
Barista: Ein Filterkafee?
Me: Nein, ein Milchkafee.
Barista: Was?
Me: Ein Milchkaffee?
Barista: (really annoyed) What do you want? A filter coffee?
Me: Milchkaffee (poiting to menu board)
Barista: What?
Me: Yes, okay, a filter coffee.

People have given me mixed responses to the German abilities I have acquired. Sometimes they're impressed at what I have picked up in the time I've been here, and sometimes they tell me I need to learn German because I'm in Germany, or more blatantly that my German is simply not good (to be fair this was said to me by a kid, who maybe are not always the most tactful of creatures). So really, I have no idea how well I'm doing.

However, I have become frustrated with the people who tell me to learn German, or think my host mom shouldn't speak English with me.

I try to be understanding when someone says something like this, because I think this belief or type of statement comes from feelings of isolation or being left out of the conversation when they don't understand everything, rather than from maliciousness. The problem with trying to be understanding about it is that I really do empathize with the situation/feeling, but I assume I experience it much more often than the person and thus sometimes get annoyed and can't always help thinking "Actually, this is my life every day. I think you can handle just a minute of it."

On the one hand I know I signed up for a language barrier in coming to Germany. And I know the people who say things like this to me did not sign up for a language barrier in just coming to lunch/going out for the evening/etc, but on the other hand that is still no excuse to be rude or to make someone feel like lesser of a person because they have not mastered a language in three months. Actually, I can think of no excuse for doing this.

It's also just hurtful and frustrating when someone says this because I'm really picking up as much German as I can as fast as I can. It isn't that I'm not trying. Or that I have no desire to learn the language. In fact, I really resent the whole "You don't need to speak German/Italian/French/whatever language, everyone there speaks English!" notion I heard a lot of before I left for here.  This is not actually true. And it's disrespectful. Also why would you choose to live in a country with another language with the goal of experiencing a new culture and not bother to give the language a try?

It is just that becoming fluent in a new language is really hard. And I would like to see any one of these people who have said these things to me go to a foreign country with a foreign language in which they have no background and simply learn it. With no formal instruction. And largely from a toddler. And then, to not be relieved when someone speaks their native language to them. Because sometimes it is just nice to have a break from struggling to make yourself understood and to understand what is being said.

Lastly, I think the point of an Au Pair (or one of the points, really) is a cultural exchange- not just a one way street of absorption. Which means sometimes speaking German. And sometimes English. And sometimes minion babble. Which means it is totally fine if my host mom wants to practice her (already very good) English. And it is really no one's concern!

Finally though, I started my language class last week. Since I have been here for three months, it's pretty easy so far (We spent two days learning how to say our name, where we are from, and what we speak). Although now I am having the reverse of the trouble I had when I first got here, in that I've tried speaking Spanish to some people in my class, and it comes out German. So basically I don't know what I speak anymore.

Minion babble. That's what I speak. Bananas!

Basically, the language barrier is a daily ride on the Struggle Bus to Struggle Town where I eat Struggle Pudding. But, I know how to order ice cream and coffee to-go, which makes up about 90% of my interactions outside playing with the kids. So that's good!