Frair Aguousto: Italians take the month of August off. I’m sorry, I meant to write ‘ Italians take the MONTH of August OFF’. They don’t ‘take it easy’. Or ‘go on vacation’. OFF! The trash will pile up in the streets! If there is a gas leak, lord help us all! The fire department takes the month off! I’m sorry, I meant ‘ THE FIRE DEPARTMENT TAKES THE MONTH OFF!”. Trash in the streets! Gas leaks! No Fire Department! It would be mass hysteria in America, but here? A languid and enviable calm. My new goal in life is to be able to do this. And I’m making my own holiday. A bit of history: to make Christianity go down smoother with the Romans, a popular Roman holiday was tweaked and Christmas was born. If you read the bible, Jesus was actually born in Spring… something about lambs suckling and sheep grazing, anyways. The holiday was the incredibly popular feast of Saturn (Saturnalia), a mid-winter festival of drinking, debauchery and foodstuffs held around the first two weeks of December. December 25th was a date chosen out of ecumenical politics. So, my new goal in life is to be happily married with a few kids and then just friggin’ opt out for two months of the year. Ideally, December 1st I will wake up, put on a toga, crash on the couch and watch Star Trek while my kids figure out how to make their own lunches and get to school. IF they want to go. We celebrate the Saturnalia in this household! Do what you feel! And as for driving them to soccer practice in August? Listen, if I’m not worried about the gas leak, I’m certainly not worried about you practicing your side-pass kid!

It’s the little things that remind me I live in Italy.

The base grocery store also sells furniture which they set outside under the awning with big yellow price tags affixed. Local Italian nationals take advantage of the luxurious free outdoor seating and have their coffee while acting as living advertisements for a plush new sectional couch. The management doesn’t particularly like them breaking in the furniture, but what are they going to do?

I will be running specimens to the Hospitals lab and walk over the glass-topped excavation of a Roman well. Sometimes (if Cancer results aren’t on the line) I’ll just stand on top of the glass and look down at something older than Jesus. This happens roughly once a week.

The Neapolitan dialect is said to notoriously different from regular Italian. I have a theory: Naples actually pre-dates the Roman Empire as a bustling metropolis. Naples here in Italy is called “Napoli”, which is derived from “Neopolis” or “New City”, which is what the Greeks called it when they founded it. I think chunks of Greek are leftover in Neapolitan and that’s why it’s peculiar. Point: To say ‘half’ in Italian is ‘metta’. In Neapolitan it is ‘messa’. “Half” or “between”/”middle” in Greek is ‘mes’ (see: ‘Mesopotamia’= ‘the place between the rivers’). Not that I can speak one friggin’ word of either of these fine languages.

I wake up every morning to Mount Vesuvius outside my window. Ominous? Only if you dwell on the thought of Pompeii.

We all need a lesson in Italian self-esteem. Is an item of clothing tight? Is it shiny? Is said item an offensive color (Neon Yellow? Screaming Eggplant?)? Is it sheer enough to see one’s undergarments through it? Yes? They will wear it. Their belly paunches will stick out. Every cellulite ridge will clear its throat and demand attention. And they walk out the door thinking (insert big smile and double finger-snap here) ‘I look goooood!’. Sun-blotched décolletage will be flaunted. Cracked, dry feet will be on display in precarious open toed heels. And you can see bras and underwear quite clearly. A true story/lesson: At my favorite outdoor market, there are heaps of random clothes piled high on tables you can pick through under a sign that says “1 for 1 Euro”. In an attempt to dress more “flashy” (re: Italian) I picked up an offensive Neon Yellow, stretchy, sheer (yes you can see my underwear through it), and revealing dress that looked about 2 sized too small. Whatever. It’s ONE Euro! Why not? I bought it as a joke. Took it home. Washed it. Tried it on for the first time. FELT LIKE A SUPERMODEL. Maybe confidence is something they weave into the fabric here? 60% Cotton, 30% Rayon, 10% Girl, You Look Good!

Italians, or at least Neapolitans, LOVE fireworks. I cannot overemphasize the Italian zeal for colorful shit that explodes high in the air. There were fireworks my first night here and I won’t lie, I felt like they were for me. The ones two nights later were still for me. And the ones a week after that. Around Labor Day is when I realized that this was a trend before I arrived here and not dependant on my mood (they seemed timed to punctuate my emotional state… sheer coincidence… or IS it, hmmmm?). The fireworks that “kicked off Labor Day” (more on the quotations in a minute) were spectacular! A 40 minute display of the largest, highest, loudest, brightest fireworks I’d ever seen! 3,000 years ago, the Chinese invented fireworks for the sole purpose of exquisite culmination on this night in Italy: the beginning of the American holiday of Labor Day! Now, about those corkers actually being for “Labor Day”? Nope. I live in Italy, they don’t know or care what the hell Labor Day is and if they did know they would celebrate the Italian way by taking the month off. Another coincidence. Fireworks here are used for everything from celebrating a sweet-16, to blessing a harbor to forever have bountiful clams (not kidding), to various pillars of the community (Mafia crime lords) getting released from jail (again, not kidding). So every time I stood on my balcony and enjoyed the show, someone was either coming of age, ensuring a good haul for next year, or getting out of prison. As I write this, there are fireworks outside my window. Not kidding.

So this is how it went:

1630: Return from full day of clinicals

1645: Take Quiz in classroom

1650: First student done with quiz goes to turn it in. Promptly returns to classroom and announces that no one can leave. We’re picking orders!

1651: MASS HYSTERIA!

1651: Student Leader passes word from Instructor’s Spaces to “not get too excited. The orders are not what they thought they were. No overseas billets. 5 FMTB (with the Marines) slots.”

1652-1734: Mass texting and facebooking about getting screwed over again by the Navy. Many “F^%k our lives” and “Do you think Virginia is nice this time of year” posts go up. We wait for nightcrew to come back from clinical to pick with us.

1740: Nightcrew comes back. Instructor comes in to classroom and shares updated GPA list with us. IMPORTANT as we pick by GPA.

1750: Instructor begins to write Orders on the board. Looks like this:

Okinawa, Japan (2 billets) Great Lakes, Chicago (1 Dental billet) Bethesda, MD (1 billet) Guantanamo Bay, Cuba (1 billet) Yokosuka, Japan (2 billets) Iwikuni, Japan (1 FMF/Dental billet) Pensacola, Florida (1 FMTB billet) Naples, Italy (1 billet) USS Roosevelt, Virginia (1 billet) Lejune, North Carolina (1 billet) Lejune, North Carolina (2 FMTB billets) USS Mercy, San Diego (1 billet)

1800: I pick first. Naples, Italy.

In my head, I hope my life there is something like this…



I like my job. I like the fact I do fancy things like Total Knee Replacements, Bilateral Percutaneous Tenotomies, and other impressive medical words made into sentences that denote me getting suited up to cut someone open. See below.

Sometimes in life, there are these thrilling moments: The day we brought Axle (my horse) home. Opening my college acceptance letter. The day I left home. The commonality amongst them is change and the fulfillment of a long-term goal (one of my favorite things!). We pick orders in less than two weeks and frankly, the anticipation is killing me! The excitement in the air is palpable. We see the class ahead of us, who have already picked, high fiving, hear their congratulatory exclamations, and smell the celebratory libations on their breath. The thrilling part? WE’RE NEXT!!! Picking orders is a culmination of lots of hard work, a momentous change and no small amount of faith that the Universe has a plan for us. We may not get what we want, but many of us feel that wherever we wind up- that is where we are supposed to be. Call it a coping mechanism. Call it acquiescing to God’s will. Whatever it is, the sentiment remains that we all did our personal best here and now it’s time to move on.

I’m still holding out for Naples, but it’s a long shot. A rundown of orders available to the first class is as follows: Mainland Japan, Okinawa, Guam, San Diego, Florida, and South Carolina. Slim pickin’s. Throw in the fact that those who picked Japan (Okinawa included) are being placed on hold here INDEFINITELY! With that factored in, I almost want to pick San Diego over Japan because if you keep up with my facebook, you know I can’t stand it here.Facebook profile quote:

“This wallpaper is killing me. One of us has to go.” -Last Words of Oscar Wilde Replace “wallpaper” with “command” and you have my life here.

So perhaps San Diego? Who knows. It's a fun ride just waiting to find out where life will take me.

I work in the OR. Rule number one in that world: Make the Surgeon happy. They can be mean and scary. They will throw instruments and curse at you. They live by a pecking order and if you don’t rank high enough, they will make your life miserable. Being in the medical field in the Military sets you apart from the regular caste system of the Hospital pecking order. Normally, it looks something like this:Being in the Military sets us apart. I can say with honesty I’ve never been yelled at, belittled or pushed around… AFTER I tell them I’m with the Navy. Before, I got a lot of “Who the Hell are you and why are you in this Operating Room?”, “Hey Asshole, are you new?”, and who could forget “NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO! You are so wrong!”.Now, when I walk into the OR, the first thing out of my mouth is “Hi, I’m in the Navy and I could very well be deployed to Afghanistan to work on blown-up Soldiers and Marines so I’m going to need you to be extra nice and explain everything to me like I’m four. Also, it’s my first day.”The mood in the OR immediately shifts. The surgeon is delighted to have me. “Please, retract this Hepatic Artery and get a good look at the Duodenum, you’ll need to know these things when you are saving lives in Afghanistan, what is it like in the Navy?, How long have you been in? Aren’t you a little tall to be on a ship? Ha ha ha!”

Because I am no longer a target for the Surgeon’s rage, it turns to one place and one place only. His Resident. Because the thing about the Hospital pecking order is, it actually looks like this:

They are treated worse than a Boot-Camp Sailor with a speech impediment. They are always wrong. They are trash. They are worthless. I feel bad for them. My friend Boddy was working with one and he dropped an instrument on the floor. Boddy apologized immediately. The Resident? He said “It’s OK. I’m a piece of Shit”.

Much of Navy life revolves around a “hurry up and wait” mentality. We had literally thousands of pages of information to absorb to get through Corps School in the allotted time. Same here at “C” school. But we only get the material when we “class up” (start class), so when we are stuck on hold for months at a time it’s hard to shut down that section of your brain that’s responsible for mass information input. When not actively in class, I kept my brain occupied by reading. A LOT. If you are looking to pick up a book, below are some recommendations. A good read, but a bit high-brow for me. You’ll like it if you’re the literary-critic type, you can pick apart the symbolism for days.Read it if you like: Family Ties, Horses Who Know When They’re Being Tricked, Blue-Eyed Babies Who Lift Curses, Poison That Runs In The Veins Of A Plant And The Veins Of Your Kin, The South, Magic, Teen Pregnancy.

Another amazing book. I liked World War Z more, but only because it was about things I already liked (International Relations, Complaining About the Military). Regardless, it’s still a five ! out of five ! book. It is NOT an easy read! It’s dense and no lie, the author is a weird guy. He goes on strange tangents. I would recommend this book if you like: Complaining About the Military, WWII, Nazis, Code Breaking, The Philippines, Computer Hacking, Gold Doubloons, Navy Officers Who Are Idiot Savants, Going Back And Forth In Time, Computers.

I miss my ponies. I loved growing up with my horse, Axle, in my backyard. It is my most sincere desire to finish up with the Navy and have that again. I may google other breeds of horse and fantasize about owning them, but I know in my heart, my future horse will be an abused Thoroughbred off the racetrack… just like Axle.

Thoroughbreds are best known for being racehorses.

That is what they were bred for, and they've been at if for a while.

They are a great all-purpose horse, and we use them to play polo!

Now I just have to work on getting out of the Navy, getting some abused Thoroghbreds and moving them here: To be more specific, Here:

(Big Island, Hawaii)

Have your neighbor collect all your mail for a month, read your magazines, and randomly lose every 5th item before delivering it to you.

On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, turn your water heater temperature up to 200 degrees. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, turn the water heater off. On Saturdays and Sundays tell your family they use too much water during the week, so no bathing will be allowed.

Much of Navy life revolves around a “hurry up and wait” mentality. We had literally thousands of pages of information to absorb to get through Corps School in the allotted time. Same here at “C” school. But we only get the material when we “class up” (start class), so when we are stuck on hold for months at a time it’s hard to shut down that section of your brain that’s responsible for mass information input. When not actively in class, I kept my brain occupied by reading. A LOT. If you are looking to pick up a book, here are some recommendations.

As you can see, it gets five out of five stars! Amazing book! It took everything I liked about being an International Relations major in college and then added Zombies. What’s not to like? This was the best book I’ve read in the last six years. It is incredibly well researched. From the military slang and minutia (Zombie-proof Battle Dress Uniforms?!?) to the hyper-xenophobia indicative of North Korean foreign policy, the author put in the TIME! I would recommend this book if you like: International Relations, Public Health Scares, Zombies, Complaining About the Military, Whales, Blind Japanese Guys Who Are Awesome, Marines, Psychology, The Chinese Navy, Hard Choices, Dogs, Zombies As A Metaphor For the Recession.

WORDGLOSS: A CULTURAL LEXICONOnly gets 4 stars as it’s more of an encyclopedia than literary work. It’s outstanding to read in chunks in between other tasks.If you like: Etymology. This is different from Entomology. Which I learned in this book of Etymology.

Make coffee using eighteen scoops of budget priced coffee grounds per pot; let the pot simmer for 5 hours before drinking.

Place a podium at the end of your driveway. Have your family stand watches at the podium, rotating at 4 hour intervals. This is best done when the weather is worst. January is a good time.

When your children are in bed, run into their room with a megaphone shouting that your home is under attack and ordering them to their battle stations, shouting, "Now general quarters, general quarters, all hands man your battle stations!"Alternatively, set your alarm clock to go off at random during the night. At the alarm, jump up and dress as fast as you can, making sure to button your top shirt button and tuck your pants into your socks. Run out into the backyard and uncoil the garden hose.

Time them on getting to their respective stations. Then tell them it was only a drill and if this were the real thing, they would be dead.

Post a menu on the kitchen door informing your family that they are having steak for dinner. Then make them wait in line for an hour. When you finally get to the kitchen, tell them you are out of steak, but they can have dried ham or hot dogs. Repeat daily until they ignore the menu and just ask for hot dogs.

Also, make your family menu a week ahead of time without consulting the pantry or refrigerator.

It’s hard to keep your spirits up sometimes. Thankfully, I’m not alone here. My shipmates are my rocks. We invent funny things as coping mechanisms to deal with being here. This is one of them…

Take the above quote by LT Aldo Reins (Brad Pitt), and start applying it to everyday situations (MUST DO IT IN AN ACCENT!).Examples: “I didn’t come down from the Got-Damned Smokey Mountains of Tennessee, ‘cross 5,000 miles of water, fight my way through half of Sicily, and jump out of a fuckin’ Areo-plane to phone muster at 0500”“I didn’t come down from the Got-Damned Smokey Mountains of Tennessee, ‘cross 5,000 miles of water, fight my way through half of Sicily, and jump out of a fuckin’ Areo-plane to do nothing in a classroom for 8 hours”

Try it out. I think you'll feel better.

I'm not really the "Military-Type", but I guess you don't have to be to serve in the Navy!

Other people who have served in the Navy that you would not have guessed...

These guys! Jack Lemmon and Tony Curtis

Bill Cosby. Yes, THAT Bill Cosby. And he was a Corpsman!

Humphrey Bogart. Enlisted in WWI. Yes. He. Did.

David Lee Roth of Van Halen. Got kicked out for smoking pot. Duh.

Ron Moore. Writer of BSG and Star Trek. Inventer of the Borg. He's also from Chowchilla. So really, it's like these guys have served in the Navy as well...

And these guys...

Matt Groening (Speculative). Creator of The Simpons. Scuttlebutt has it, he was a Nuke and the experience was the inspiration for Homer and his workplace, while the CO (a Rear Admiral... yes, that is what they are called) was the inspiration for Mr. Burns. Also, creator of Futurama. 

This pretty lady.. she is also a Corpsman. Shocking, yes?

Kirk Douglas

Speaking of Kirk's, I forgot to include the most famous (future) member of the Navy....

We’re currently on our clinical rotations. I have nothing but lovely things to say about our Chain of Command in regards to their genuine concern that we come out of here the best darn Surg Techs in the Fleet. Really, they bend over backwards and go the extra mile to ensure we are getting the best possible education and experience.That being said. We keep rotating our Clinical slots. Day shifts to Night Shifts to This Hospital to That Hospital yes you still have to Stand Watch and go to PT! It’s a bit wearing on the nerves. Kinda like this:

“When do we pick orders?” is a common question here. It’s what we’ve all been working so hard toward. Our light at the end of the proverbial tunnel. Tragically, we can’t get a straight answer out of anyone. It’s not that the Command is withholding information: they just really have no idea. But instead of manning up and saying “I’m sorry Sailor, it’s a new Command and everything is a little jumbled. We have no clue what your future holds, even though the next two years of your life will be determined within the next month.”, we get the runaround. Just replace "Planet Express" with "Orders" and it kinda goes something like this:

On the plus side, we aren’t Army. They have 0 say in where they wind up. My control issues would really flair up at the thought of that. We live next to the 68 Whiskey barracks (I don’t know Army slang, but it’s where the Army Combat Medics live), so we see what the Army goes through. It’s shocking. A completely different world from Navy-land. We may bitch and moan, but in general, we’re all quite happy to be here. All the Army personnel I’ve spoken to have a similar story: “I just wanted money for college, I didn’t know it would be like this”, “I can’t believe I signed 8 years of my life away without really thinking it through”. Kinda like this:



Exhaustion. The Navy is no Army, that’s for sure! But it’s still tiring. Many of us rely on copious amounts of coffee to get us through our day, functioning like anything close to a human being. The Navy and coffee have a special relationship. It’s mentioned in our songs:“They say that in the Navy, the coffee’s mighty fine”“It looks like muddy water, and tastes like turpentine”It’s considered bad luck to wash the coffee ring out of a Chief’s coffee mug. You can only walk around in uniform drinking water… or coffee. We have it brewing in the classrooms because our schedules are so jam-packed (Watch, Duty, Mando PT, Mando Fun, What had happed was), but we still need to be alert to learn. But something happens when you’re going on NO sleep and 100 cups of coffee a day. Time slows down. Your pupils dilate. You’ve gone so far beyond exhaustion, time and space have actually looped back around and now your mind is an acute tool, a finely tuned instrument able to absorb anything and function at a higher level of intelligence. Commands are given, but your mind is moving so fast, you know what is coming next. You’re holding the tool the Surgeon needs before he says it. Instead of fumbling with blood-soaked needles, you smoothly hand them the next suture. You are ahead of the game! No, you’re outside the game. You’re floating above yourself, watching. It’s a trip. And it really happens. I would say its “kinda like this”, but it’s not. ITS EXACTLY LIKE THIS:

LEADERSHIPAs I’ve said previously, I have nothing but great things to say about our Chain of Command. They care. They are genuinely interested in our work and progress.Our Watch leadership on the other hand… arg! They keep changing the game like it’s for our betterment. First watch was 24 hours, once a month. Then, it’s once every 9 days at a random time with random mustering. Now, you can’t leave the barracks if you’re on watch. It’s not the fact it keeps changing. It’s the fact they’re so pedantic about it. They speak down to us like they are doing us a huge favor, changing the watchbill. Also, the Watch leaderships HAS NO IDEA about what our Clinical rotations are like, so when they lecture us on the Plan of the Day (literally, the schedule for that day), it’s painfully obvious they have no idea what is going on. Like this: 

So first off, there’s THIS: http://abcnews.go.com/Politics/dont-navy-discharge-sailor-falling-asleep-bed-man/story?id=13085487

If you can’t be bothered to read the article, in summation, “What had happed was…” (see side bar) two Sailors were watching a movie together in the barracks. They fell asleep. They woke up only when a roommate came in after getting off of watch at balls (midnight).I HIGHLY recommend reading the article. If you do, I think you can agree with me that the major issue in this story is not two men falling asleep in the same bed. The larger issues are: 1) two men were watching Vampire Diaries , 2) the ABC reporter actually refers to them as “sleepy sailors”, and 3) the men were cited with dereliction of duty for "willfully failing to exhibit professional conduct in his room”. Issues one and two are humorous, but I really do have a problem with issue number three. As far as “homosexual activity” is concerned, with the repeal of “DON’T ASK DON’T TELL”, I’m not sure they can charge these men with anything of that nature… not that I’m saying this was indeed “homosexual activity”, far from it. It’s just two sleepy sailors, watching a movie in a twin bed on the weekend: that’s my current life. So the Navy is essentially telling me I can’t snuggle in bed with my friend Strothers (also female) and watch Spartacus: Blood and Sand with the curtains drawn on a Saturday? WHAT?!? Also, we are on drugs. Not illegal ones! I was prescribed a sh!t ton of a military/industrial strength Elephant muscle relaxer for my Posterior Tibial Tendonitis, while my friend is on a steady stream of pain killers for a medical issue. I were brought up on these charges, I’d be fighting it all the way to the top and speaking to the media. We are not doing anything against the rules. There is no alcohol involved. The drugs are prescribed to each of us respectively, and we are not sharing them. On a side note, this is what it’s like when I take my prescription and decide I want to talk to Neal:

A pancreaticoduodenectomy is often referred to as a Whipple procedure. It is a major surgical operation involving the pancreas, duodenum, and other organs. This operation is performed to treat cancerous tumors on the head of the pancreas, malignant tumors involving common bile duct or duodenum near the pancreas.In the case I assisted in, the patient had already undergone a radical gastrectomy (removal of the stomach). There were several large tumors on the patients pancreas, as well as malignancies on the patients duodenum (the first part of the small intestine). This particular case involved the removal of a major portion of the pancreas and the complete removal of the duodenum, leading to the anastomosis (to join together two hollow organs) of the jejunum (the middle part of the small intestine) to the common bile duct. I was lucky to be chosen as part of the team, as these cases are so very rare. It was a thrilling experience and I’m glad to have had the opportunity! 

A real-life picture, below:

Sorry if this grosses anyone out, but this is what it looked like... and it was SUPER COOL!

This is a pretty good play-by-play of the procedure, but you'll have to picture it without the stomach for the case I was in on. The patient had a long history of cancer.I'll try to get pictures of me in the OR, but there is an awful lot of red tape! 

It’s easy to forget that my life was actually good before I came to METC. It’ll be good again when I leave, but until that sweet day delivers me from this place, I have to remind myself that I used to be happy. Also, I found the lost Africa pictures!

Africa!

Harvard

Boston... looking good.

From Russia, with love.Outside of Moscow

HomeSweet HomeVeniceMy favorite picture from ItalyFlorence, ItalyCiao, Ciao Florence!More and more reasons for me to be stationed in Italy!

If I had only joined the Army, I could be stationed in Germany! On second thought, I'll just go back and visit.To this day I cannot translate these steps. My German is only good enough to order a beer.Good German beer, waiting on good German Schitzel.A sunny day in GermanyIn Strousbourg, FranceWaiting for that AMAZING Winestub to open in Strousbourg, FranceEverything, including windows, is better in FranceEverything, including the food, is better in FranceI told you the windows were better in France! They are the best in Paris.Not all it was cracked up to be.The Catabombs of ParisAmsterdamWhere else but Amsterdam? STILL funny!Ah, that's right! I forgot we did this in Boston...Fenway ParkI REALLY miss this place.ChicagoMillenium Park in Chicago(The Bean!)Reflection in The BeanPolo Ponies!!!My favorite PonyOk, she's my favorite Polo Pony too! Don't ask me to choose!I wish I could smell this picture: Leather, Horse Sweat, Hay. Smells like home.Yosemite? NO! Hawaii. North Hilo.Hawaiin Jungle. I swear I'll take more and better pictures next time I'm there, but since Neal moved there, it doesn't feel exotic anymore so I forget that it's still an amazing place!

This is from METC... it's not even that long ago but look how not-stressed out I look!

Also not that long ago... a visit to Berkeley and Sarah. My friend Castro and I, looking angry for some reason.Oh my, what an attractive hair cut. Just outside of Chicago.This is from METC, but we had not started classes yet. That's why we look happy. Also, MULES!Halloween at METC

I just have to remember: METC will end. It will. It will?

Order picking season is not quite upon us, but I've put in a lot of thought as to where I'd like to live for the next two to three years. If (and its a big IF) any of these bases are open to me, here is what I've been dreaming on. In decsending order of "oh my gawd, that'd be super":

NAPLES, ITALY

Why Naples? Beyond the obvious reasons, my great-grandfather is rumored to have expatriated from here. I like the sense of history. It’s also a well established Naval base, and after the harrowing time I've had here with this new command... I'll take a "old" over "new (with kinks)" any day! Also, I've already been to Italy and know I love it!!!!

YOKOSUKA, JAPANReasons: To hang out with fine, upstanding Sailors. Like these guys!

Why couldn't I have been around for THIS Navy?(Oh right... I wouldn't have been allowed in!)

Japan is probably the most exciting option, even though I have it ranked lower than Italy. I’ve never been there and it seems so exotic! Europe (and specifically Italy) was exhilarating but didn’t seem particularly “foreign”. Japan? I have no preconceptions.

PEARL HARBOR, HAWAII

Reasons: Close to Neal, I can take a few college classes in preparation for PA school, it's Hawaii...

I've already been here, so I know I'll like it!



SAN DIEGOReasons: The same as Italy. I like the sense of familial history. My mom grew up there, and it was the final duty station of my Grandfather, Chief Ganze (USN). I think the symmetry of a Granddaughter separated by 60 years and a generation from her Grandfather, but in the same Navy and duty station as he, is romantic.

Also, it is another well established base. Very Navy friendly, as you can see here!

BREMERTON, WASHINGTONReasons: It seems “outdoorsy”. The base is right on Puget Sound. I saw an episode of No Reservations and frankly, the idea of all the fresh caught salmon I can eat is appealing! Being in the US, I can still work on those college classes and am not TOO far away from family and Neal.Killer Whales in Puget SoundPike's Place Fish Market

THE PHILIPPINESReasons: I read a book called Cryptonomicon and it painted an exciting picture. The Island itself seems interesting and I like the fact travel to South Asia is easy. Other than the fact I like Lumpia… it just seems like an adventure. In some ways even more so than Japan! People go to Japan on vacation all the time… “I’ll be wintering in Luzon” rings strange. I see it as an opportunity to live in a place others would normally never even consider. 

So while all this seems exciting, I have to keep in mind I could very well wind up in Lemoore, California (yuk), Pensacola, Florida (double yuk), or Norfolk, Virginia (just kill me now!). All I can do is be top of my class (so far so good) and make prayers the Order Gods are generous.

Well, we're done with the didactic part of class, now on to clinicals. We'll see how all this plays out I guess!

After working my butt off in Naval Hospital Corps School (Corps School), I was told repeatedly by my instructors “go to a “C” school, it’ll give you an amazing education and invaluable training for here and back in the civilian world”. “C” school is more advanced training in a specific area. So that’s how I wound up forgoing amazing orders like Greece, Italy, Spain, Japan and Australia for … San Antonio, Texas!!! I’m here for Surgical Technologist School (Surg Tech) for the next 6 months. The school itself is great! Learning lots, highly motivated instructors and staff and all that jazz but the downside is that the environment is sub-par. Allow me to ‘splain:

I have never lived in the Midwest. I’m a California girl. I like my summers balmy and my winters mild. I like mountains and trees and flowers and geographically diverse fauna! I’m not adjusting well to the flat, ominous, eternal Texas scrub. The grass is brown. The dirt is brown. There are no trees. There are no mountains. Scratch that, there are a few trees but they are also brown. Sometimes, the sky is brown. The weather is capricious. Sometimes, I’ll wake up at 5am for PT and it will be 80 degrees! Other times, I will walk out the door at 7:30am for class and it’s a surprising 28. But these two temperatures look the same from inside! The 80 degree weather will look cold because it’s overcast, and the 28 degrees will look nice because it’s clear and sunny! This is further complicated by the fact that the military, in it’s infinite wisdom and attention to detail, decided to cut corners and cost when constructing our barracks. Namely, the windows in our rooms do not open. It doesn’t sound like a big deal, but when your bathroom, fridge and microwave are all in the same room as you, all those smells mingle. It would be a blessing for just a little fresh air! But for efficiencies’ sake, if I could open the window I could accurately gauge how to dress for PT and for school. “Gosh, it sure does look bright and sunny out there! Let me OPEN MY WINDOW and see what it’s like. Oh my goodness! It must be 10 degrees out there! I’m grabbing my coat!” or “Hmm, looks col- NOPE! Feels like 85. Good thing my window opens!”. I get teased all the time from my friends who did not pick a “C” school. These are the folks from my class who actually WENT to the places I turned down. They always tag me in their photos of exotic locals to rub it in. A friend in Naples is particularly mean spirited as he has traveled all around Italy thus far and makes a point of keeping me abreast of how amazing the terrain is, how spectacular the weather is and how fantastic the Roman ruins are. Another friend in Japan taunts me with facebook posts like “cANt WaiT 2ClimB MoUnt FUJI!!!!!”. Le Sigh. They always remember us and often drop lines to say “Hi” and “How’s Texas?”. How’s Texas? I don’t know. My window doesn’t open!

The Naval Medical Education Training Command (METC) is brand new. BRAND. NEW. I am part of the first batch of students to get pushed through here, as such the invariable kinks and bugs have yet to be worked out of the system. The barracks (where we live, nice actually, like dorms) are new and the plumbing has yet to be sorted out. I have not had hot water for two weeks. On Friday and Saturday of this week, we had NO WATER at all. We are at the Flagship Naval Medical Training Facility. No expense of tax dollars was spared. And when I want to flush my toilet, I have to fill it with water I trundled over in my own jug from the schoolhouse. When I was living in Africa doing volunteer work, I lived with a host family. There was no running water in my village. Everyone took “bucket baths”. The concept is simple: Take water. Put in bucket. Go outside. Use cup to pour water over your head from bucket. When I turned on my water on Friday after a sweaty PT session and all that came out was a steady dribble, all I could think was

“I wish I had a bucket”.

Naval Hospital Corps School is where I went to be basically trained as a Corpsman. It consists of a 4 month didactic (book learnin’) portion, and two weeks of clinical. We learned basic Anatomy and Physiology, Nursing Care, Tactical Triage and Combat Care, Pharmacology and basic EMT training. A Corpsman is like a mini-Doctor, hence, the appellation “DOC”. We can give you an IV, insert a catheter, stitch you up, we run sick-call, deliver babies and give basic medical assistance to military personnel. A few lucky ones get to go with the Marines and get crazy good experience.

I loved my time at NAVHOSPCORPSCHOOL. It was challenging, exciting and I learned more than I ever thought I could. I met some amazing people both students and instructors. Here are some pictures. In case you thought the Navy was all work and no play...

...this proves otherwise!

My whole class. 170-A. Our beloved instructor is the diminutive Phillipino man in the center.

Some Graduation fun! We now all have a caduceus on our sleeve.

This is when I first arrived at Corps School. Note the amazing Navy haircut I'm sporting!

This is an example of "Mando Fun". I'm in my dress whites, in the second row from the bottom.

I got back from Africa and wanted to get into the healthcare field. The plan was to get a part time job, enroll in a City College, and apply to Nursing School. Unfortunately the recession was at its high point (low point?) and I couldn’t even find a job, let alone a part time one! I didn’t want to take out more loans for school, and I didn’t relish the idea of sticking around Sacramento. I was drifting off to sleep one night and thinking: “I wish there was a way to get practical experience in the healthcare field. I wish someone would pay for it. I wish they would pay for school, too. But I still want to travel… OH MY GOD I CAN JOIN THE NAVY!” That’s really what happened. I swear! My Navy friends always laugh when I tell them this because we’ve all come to the invariable conclusion that the Navy is the worst thing to wish on anyone! Just kidding! Well, it’s complicated. I am getting all those things out of it, it’s just that we have to be in the military and sometimes it’s harder than we thought it would be. But sometimes it’s fun. And it’s ALWAYS an experience! Keep you posted!

A huge bowl of Saimin noodles. And look at my pretty dress! I love trawling through Crossroads Trading Company for crap I don't need; so this whole trip was a great excuse to wear all the crap I buy there.

The view from our hotel in Waikiki! This is Queen's Beach, it's always sunny and I had no qualms about spending 6 consecutive hours in the sand getting my tan.

The balcony from our hotel room in Waikiki. Also, another great example of dress-prettiness.

This is in North Hilo on the Big Island. Soooo beautiful. Moving here is my new long-term goal.

All the above are from North Hilo. This here is a Banana tree. Those purple things are baby bananas!

All the above are from the Jungle outside of Hilo, on the Big Island. Love, Love, Love.

Local flora. "Bird of Paradise", just hanging out.

More local flora. A "Hibiscus" flower. They live here!

Baby pineapple! In a pineapple patch right outside the door of my friends house! These are "White Pineapples"... they are small, have white flesh and make regular pineapples taste like poison!

This is the kind of Hawaii I like! Ponies in green rolling hills!

Oh did I mention I stayed on a farm out in Hawaii? Here are some sheeps!

Hawaiian farm chickens! Eggs taste better on the Big Island.

Hawaiian Pony with a "Roodle" (1/2 Rottweiler, 1/2 Giant Poodle). Loooove Roodles!!!

This is the biggest flower I've ever seen in my whole frakking life! I had to take a picture of it! Someone was randomly taking a machete to the brush around his barn and found it just growing!

*Le Sigh*

Hapuna Beach, Kona, Big Island... my future home.

I just bought a plane ticket to Hawaii! I'll be out there for 10 days on the Big Island. There, I will ride ponies! I might see some whales. I may even go to the beach. Whateves. Did I mention I will be riding ponies? Yeah!!!

The price was right for a plane ticket, too. Last time I went to Big Island it was like $1,200; and by "like $1,200" I mean $1,230. Sheesh.

This time it was a much more affordable $480. I don't know if it is because I'm going in January, or the economy is still so, so terrible, but $480 is great! Not as stupendous as our $416 round-trip tickets to Europe, but I'll take it!

Pictures will be coming. Now if you'll excuse me: I have to go throw away all the sugar in my cupboards and start working out!

This is Landsdown street next to Fenway park... apparently very famous as it was home runs hit onto this street that caused the creation of the "Green Monster" (or 'Mon-stah', if you're from Boston).

This is me eating a Fenway Frank. Look how stupid happy I look! My priorities in life are obvious.

Me, raising a glass of Sam Adams Boston Lager. Once again... my priorities are painfully shallow.

My friend Shannon (the other director in my office) and the other girlie's of Boston '09.

I should explain: Lobster in Boston is like Chicken everywhere else; cheap and ubiquitous! This is a Lobster Roll, a Boston staple like chicken salad is everywhere else. This was bought in a supermarket and was $2. It was chock-full of gigantic lobster chunks and was unbelievably great!

We went to Harvard!!!

The Harvard Library: Nicer than yours.

All Harvard. They aren't joking, they really are better than us. A lovely, old school (see plaque below for dates). But there was a startling lack of Ivy. I had to seek some out...

Seriously, the only Ivy I found at this Ivy Leage school!

The Charles River. Named after King Charles, right next to Havard and a fine representation of Boston's landscape.

We went on a tour of Fenway park. It's REALLY old! These seats are original from the 1910's.

This is me with the "Green Monster". It's the Left field foul wall behind me. I never knew THAT'S what it is, I thought "Green Monster" was the field itself. Nope!

I think my wanderlust is fading because everything is starting to look the same. If you take out the buildings in the background, this could be Amsterdam.

Olde-Tyme Court House, with modern Boston built up around it.

THE MOST IMPORTANT THING I LEARNED IN BOSTON: THE GOD-DAMNED YANKEES SUCK!! GO SOX!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Beer beer beer!

Why can't we step up our Beer game here in California? We went to a brewery in Boston (btw: breweries in Boston are like Starbucks out here, one on every corner) and they had this amazing beer pictured above. Its a micro brewed Heffewisen with blueberry extract added during the fermentation process! Then, they serve it with Blueberries IN the glass! Genius!!!

The clam chowder in Boston does not disappoint! BUT! It is SUPER clammy, like it's hard for a west-coaster to handle. Tastes of the Atlantic... I'll let you ponder if that's good or bad.

This is at that same brewery. It turns out, they give you free samples of any and ALL beer you ask for! Shannon and I are sporting the "Cherry Bomb". Same principle as the Blueberry beer: Cherries are added during the fermentation process so the beer comes out red (see above) and tasting ever-so-slightly of cherries. Genius.

There are no more pictures after this one because this is when we discovered the free beer samples and I had the (amazingly prudent) foresight to put away my camera before things went nuts for the two ladies pictured above!

So that was Boston! It was never on my list of places to visit but after going, I realize it totally should have been! It's a great, great town with a lot of character, super beer, an idiot-proof public transportation system, tons of history and a Dunkin' Donuts every 6 feet... whats not to love?

GO SOX!

Pictures are comming; but the important thing you should know up front is that I am now a HUGE Red Soxs fan!!! I went to a game at Fenway park and this is what happened:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WQHPmZOfG_0&feature=related

It's called a "bench clearing brawl"... awesome! Anyways, pictures are coming as is a breakdown of my time in Boston.

GO SOX!

Fun things about my job:BBQ's at State Representative's housesWorking with GREAT peopleActually doing important things with my life (ie saving the environment)Being fancy (organizing press conferences, doing media work, getting my social justice on) Things I am still adjusting to:Working 15 hour daysThe "grassroots" part of grassroots organizingThings I am REALLY excited about:When I get my first paycheck! Cross your fingers for Monday!!! So, long story short: I am working and loving it! I can't believe they let college post-grads run around and have this kind of responsibility and clout in the political arena... I should tell my cousin Ben about this job, he seems like the type to do well here. Ummm, other stuff? Not really. I like Carmichael (where I live with my roommate I never see but love very much), and I really like my office. The actual building is what is left of an old 1890's Victorian mansion! I will put up some pictures when I have time. It really is a trip to go in to work and have a major part of your office be someones old kitchen (complete with drawers that stick) and notice that the bathroom has an ancient claw-footed tub in it. The building is in mid-town Sacramento, conveniently located next to a strip club called "Cheaters" (Klassy!), which comes in handy after a 15 hour day when all you want is to have a few beers with your coworkers, AND be drenched in flattering red-light ambiance.

Some random, yet memorable, things that happened on the trip that didn't warrent their own blog post, but are worth re-telling.

We saw a Vampire on the Paris metro! I tried to take a picture but it didn't go well... seeing as how he's a Vampire and all.

I got Stigmata. It happens... to me... when I touch church doors. Not joking. It was there all day.

The very nice German family we stayed with had to buy me my own Banana Beer glass to take home with me.

Sarah can't pour a Beer to save her frakking life.

I can't work a shower to save my frakking life, wound up panicking and jumping in with my underwear still on.

I tried to get a hold of one of the hostels in Italy. I instead, accidently called the phone company. The dude was speaking some fast and fancy Italian so I handed the phone off to Sarah... who thought she was talking to the hostel. Then I took a step back and enjoyed the mayham.

Belgium is the worst place on the planet.... who knew, right?

I bought so many scarves, I had to buy a scarf rack. It's acually a derralict wine rack but, whateve's.

Sarah can get sunburned, even when there is no sun.

Sarah got mistaken for German everywhere we went. A French chef even yelled at her in German! Way to go Sarah!

SPEAK FRENCH WHEN YOU GO TO FRANCE!!! You will have a better time.

Germany is the best country in the world. The people are friendly and educated, the trains are clean and on time, and the beer and the bread and the schnitzel simply cannot be beat.

Paris (tied with New York) is the best, most user-friendly and beautiful city in the world.

While Germany is the best country, if I had to pick a country to expatriate to, it would most assuradly be France. There's something about the French that just really, really appeales to me. Their haughtyness? Their supiriority complex? The fact that they can compliment you AND deliver a cutting insult all at the same time? Because that is a gift my friend, I can get behind that!

So in summation: Sarah asked me for my final thought on our trip. I said now that I had been, I never needed to go back. This is not quite what I meant. I just meant that next time I go, I will be able to pick and choose what I want to do and not have to aim for all the touristy stuff. That means that Venice and Florence are OUT. Paris is still in but only if I have time. I think my new list will involve some off-the-wall places like Innsbrook, Austria, the Brittany region of France (did you know they're Celtic?), Provonce, France, Switzerland and the Northern parts of Italy.

In the meantime though... I have to dive headfirst into the real world and start my job. Boo. Everybody think European thoughts and perhaps I'll get there faster.

Sarah broke down the cost of the trip. Here is her breakdown:

Description Category Amount WWW.HIHOSTELS.COM WELWYN GARDEN Lodging $7.60 WWW.HIHOSTELS.COM WELWYN GARDEN Lodging $7.86 WWW.HIHOSTELS.COM WELWYN GARDEN Lodging $11.48 EURAIL.COM BV EURAIL.COM Travel

$925.00 WP-HOSTELWORLD.COM ONLINE Lodging $5.22 DB BAHN REISEZENTRUM GIESSEN Travel $82.10 OSTELLO A.I.G. VENEZIA VENEZIA Lodging $116.77 A LA BRICOLA 690 VENEZIA Dining $65.51 TRENITALIA - VENEZIA VENEZIA Travel $42.25 TRENITALIA - FIRENZE S.M FIRENZE Travel $70.42 RISTORANTE ORCAGNA FIRENZE Dining $50.39 OSTELLO S MONACA FIRENZE Lodging $107.92 JUGENDHERBERGE SCHLUCHSEE SCHLUCHSEE Lodging $118.92 CIARUS 2049085 STRASBOURG Lodging $48.19 AJ JULES FERRY 75PARIS 11 Lodging $180.70 LE CRUCHON 67STRASBOURG Dining $103.98 SNCF 0131790 75PARIS 10 Travel $72.77 LE GABRIELLE 8273582 75PARIS Dining $47.58 LE TRUMILOU 2233285 PARIS 04 Dining $54.58 STAYOKAY A'DAM STADSD AMSTERDAM Lodging $112.15 DB BAHN REISEZENTRUM GIESSEN Travel $36.47

total $2,267.86

1/2 total $1,133.93

So I owe Sarah about $1,000 for our trip. We were there for three weeks. I really don't thing that this is unreasonable. And if you look closely, you will note that the majority of money spent was (by far) on train tickets. Next was hostel stays. Then, food. I was shocked. I thought food would be our biggest expense as I need to eat every 1/2 hour. And really, I don't feel like we scrimped on food either.

I'm ready to go home before I spend any more money.

As per my agreement with the travel Gods, here are some pictures of Amsterdam... and nothing but nice things to go along with them.

The "street" outside of our hostel room. CHAAAAARM!

The view outside of our hostel window. I made a special effort to sleep with my head away from the window so I could wake up to this.

The Dutch L-O-V-E their bikes!

Seriously.

The train station.

Fatty gets some fries from the fry emporium. Fatty don't share.

From the "Nekayah with black jacket and scarf, standing in front of a body of water series": Nekayah in Amsterdam.

And you thought German was ridiculous.

Old-timey building... with drawbridge!

Do you take your city with, or without charm? The Dutch take theirs with charm.

Ye Olde Sex Shoppe.

The floating flower market!

Fatty, surrounded by flowers.

Things that are legal in Amsterdam if you are 18 or over: The above. Ready-to-smoke weed. Prostitution. Hard alcohol at any time of night or day.

Things that are NOT legal in Amsterdam, no matter how old you are: Friggin' Cold Medicine!

From the events of "that day", I was going on no sleep and had a terrible head cold. Nyquil and Dayquil are illegal in all of Europe without a prescription from a doctor.

So the "hiccup" in Paris I alluded to set off a chain of events simply known to Sarah and I as "that day". Below is a time line of the events of "that day":

3:30am- A drunk man climbs into the room of our hostel... on the second floor. He putters around the room saying "I'm leaving, I'm leaving". Which he does. Back out the window. Did I mention we were on the second story?

3:30-7:45am- We lie awake, unable to get back to sleep, still wondering how the hell he got up here.

8:00am- Sarah sneezes at the breakfast table and her contacts go flying out of her eyes. We should have taken this as a sign.

10:15am- Took the train from Paris to Rotterdam. There, the train we were supposed to be on to Amsterdam does not show up. They send a tiny, older train. It takes on too many sweaty, local Euro-trash people.

10:45am- Overcrowded train arrives in Roosendaal (aka The Pit of the World). There, an even larger crowd of people wait for an even smaller, dirtier train.

11:20am- Sarah and I, and all our luggage are crowded into a 2nd class train car without seats. There are screaming children. Gum is sat on.

11:50pm- I decide I hate the Dutch.

2:20pm- Arrive in Amsterdam and search out hostel.

3pm- Are issued keys for room "H", bed 9 and 10.

3:05- We walk up 5 flights of stairs. These rooms end at "E".

3:10- Walk up different 5 flights of stairs. Find room "H". Key works to entryway for rooms "H" and "G". We walk into entryway. Discover key does not work for room "H". A nice person in the room lets us in.

3:12- Someone's stuff is all over Sarah's assigned bed. Other girls in the room say that said person is probably just sleeping there because they do not want the top bunk, go ahead and move her stuff.

3:15-3:30- We unpack all of our stuff. It is all over the hostel room. Sarah has claimed her bed. I walk down the 5 flights of stairs to go complain about our key not working.

3:35- I force a nice Dutch man to remake our keys. Meanwhile, Sarah has a problem with her locker and decides to come down to inquire.

3:40- We pass each other in the stairwell. I get back to the room. They key still does not work. The nice girl lets me in again.

3:45- Sarah returns to room. Informs me that we are in the wrong room. I look around. We have beds 9 and 10. I ask the other girls in the room what room this is. This is room "G". Sarah and I exchange looks of mortification.

3:50-4:25- Sarah and I move all of our crap to the other room. She goes back down the 5 flights of stairs to get new sheets as she put hers on another girls bed. I finish unpacking and go to put my backpack in the locker. Someone has usurped my locker.

4:30- Sarah and I pass each other on the stairwell. I am going to figure out what I can do with my stuff without a locker. Looks of mortification are again exchanged.

5pm- We are settled into the Hostel. We debate the merits of exploring Amsterdam with the luck we've had today.

5:15- We decide to brave it, but not before I make a deal with the local Gods. I promise to be on my best behavior in Amsterdam and not say anything bad about it in my blog if it will please, please cut us a break.

5:30-8pm- The local Amsterdam deities keep their end of the bargain. The rest of the day is uneventful and Amsterdam is a charming city.

8:00-10:30- We shower and crawl into bed. I cry myself to sleep. Partly in lament for our bad day, partly in sweet relief that it's over.

Paris!!! We got to Paris on the first Sunday of June. This meant that all the museums were free! So the first thing we did was head to the Louvre.

The Venus de Milo. Does not disappoint! It's no David but its pretty cool.

The Code of Hammurabi! The first laws... ever. Neal I took this picture for you!

The biggest let-down of the Louvre. You heard me. I was unimpressed.

Now THIS! I don't know what this is, but THIS is ART!

Me, looking awkward surrounded by so much tacky opulence. These are the Napoleon Apartments inside the Louvre.

If you look at this and think "Hey, this is nice!", you have bad taste. Sorry.

Oh, Hello Paris!

The front of the Louvre.

Inside of the famed Notre Dame in Paris. I really do think that the Strausbourg Notre Dame was more impressive.

The front of the Notre Dame.

La la la la, hanging out on a bridge in Paris.

The most iconic thing in an iconic city.

Not a great picture of me but I'll take it. It was cold and bright all at the same time and this place was mobbed with tourists and tour groups and beggars so we wanted to get our pictures and get out!

Me, in front of a fancy fountain!

A 3,300 year old PINK obelisk given to Emperor Charlemagne.

The Champs-Elysees, is alright with me!

From the "Nekayah with black jacket and scarf" series: Nekayah in front of the Arc de Triomphe.

Rodin's The Thinker, in the Rodin sculpture garden.

The above pictures are all in the Rodin sculpture garden. It was totally worth the 6 euros!

The Rodin museum and surrounding garden.

LET-DOWN!

The Paris Catacombs. There is only one picture of me in them, as Sarah was freaked out and ditched me. Yes. Ditched me in an underground cave full of macabre bones.

I have more random Paris pics I will post when this adventure is over. As is, I'm really tired so... I'm out!

So I was FREAKED about being responsible for the French portion of our European adventure. Sarah's Italian is good (she lived in Florence for a summer) and her German is AMAZING (she can negotiate train ticket rates, make small-talk, it's really good)! So she took care of Germany and Italy. This left me with the Alsace and (insert dramatic music here) PARIS! Where the people are at the height of proper French usage and expect you to be as well.

We started in the French adventure in Alsace. Things did not go swimmingly. I would ask a question, they would appear to understand me just fine, then they would rattle off an answer that I swear to you was-not-french! I figured that this was to be expected as I learned French in West Africa and now here I am in France... HOME of the French. It's not surprising I can't understand these people and I accept that.

What WAS surprising was how NICE everyone was! At Au Couchon, we had a waitress who spoke little-to-no English. Combine this with my little-to-no French and it could have been disastrous. It was not. First, she dug out a dusty French-to-English FOOD DICTIONARY and brought it to our table. When that STILL wasn't enough to bridge the language gap, this nice young woman resorted to pantomiming. Yes. Pantomiming. As in acting out what our dinner was. They don't tip in Europe, but we left her 5 euros. It was not enough. She made me feel not-stupid and at that point in time, I really needed it.

PARIS.

After the language debacle that was Strausbourg, I was seriously considering cutting Paris short. We get to the hostel and I tell the guy I have a reservation. He asks my name, what day it is for, ok here are your keys, breakfast is in that room at this time, leave the key at reception because there is only one, have a nice stay. I blink a couple of times... did he just say that all in French? Did I just understand this Parisian, rattling stuff off to me? Did I just understand him as clear as day? Oh my god, lets not jinx this!

We check into our room and on the way out I ask for a map of the city and where the nearest metro is... once again, he understands me and I understand him. Amazing. Everywhere we go it's the same thing. The bakeries we patron get that I obviously don't speak French, and if I get stuck on a word, they start with the gestures and the pantomiming and "do you want to try it to see if you like it". What the hell? I was prepared for blank stares and bored sighs.

We get back to our hostel and there is now a woman working the counter. I tell her what room number I need the key for. She says she can't understand me and I freeze. Crap. The French Sword of Damocles just came crashing down on my head. She continues that I need to pronounce the number 12 like this: "Doooooze". She was smiling. I copy her. We say it together. I apologize that my French is bad and she responds in what I like to think is a typical French way: Apathetically indifferent. The words that came out of her mouth were "Yes, your French is not so good... but this is not a big deal"... but somehow it came out with EVERY tone mixed into it. She was being nice, she was lamenting the fact that there are so many tourists in Paris and the French population must be versed in English, she wanted me to go away, she was telling me not to worry. The French are a complicated people.

Stuff like this happened the whole time we were in Paris. I would wander up to someone and say I was looking for something; they would then either respond in VERY clear, slow French or just cut to the chase and speak English.

When it was time to leave Paris, we had to make a reservation for our train to Amsterdam. There were 5 windows open, four of which had a British flag above them (meaning the person in that booth spoke French and English). With our luck, we got the ONE booth with no British flag. We mustered up our courage and went forth as we didn't want to hold up the line. It starts out ok: I need to make a reservation; ok I can do that for you; blah, blah, blah. Then it crops up that there is a problem with the train and then she really starts speaking some fast and fancy French! I interrupt her and say that I'm sorry, I only speak a little French. She also apologizes and says that she only speaks a little English, but that we will meet in the middle. She then proceeds to speak perfect, perfect, perfect English. No huffs, no rolling of the eyes. She was extremely nice and helpful. Once again, I am surprised at how accommodating these people are.

Or not. I was relived to discover that French people are so patient. The whole time in France was great! No tears, no frustration, it's been a pleasure! Goodness, I am going to tell the whole wide world how freaking nice the French are! Yeah. We were in line for the Catacombs (pics coming!) when some American dude starts making conversation with Sarah. It turns out he and his wife CAN NOT WAIT to get the hell out of France BECAUSE THE FRENCH ARE BEING SO RUDE TO THEM. I think he's probably overreacting until his wife gets back in line with him. She went to go get coffee. Where did she get coffee and croissants from? IN PARIS? She searched out a McDonalds. It turns out she was so afraid to go into any of the cafe's because of how badly she and her husband have been treated. Wow.

So I guess the moral of this story is: if you want to go to France, you must at least TRY to speak French. Things go much smoother... apparently.

Oh, PS! I could not understand the people in Strausbourg because (according to the German family we are staying with) the people in that region have a very thick accent that is NOT a French accent. To them, it sounds like a German who learned French. This makes sense as it is right by Germany.

Come to think of it, that terribly handsome Alsatian chef at Au Couchon came out to explain to a German couple what was on the menu. Le sigh... if only we had made it evident that Sarah spoke German. I would be married right now. To a handsome, bi-lingual Alsatian chef.

PPS So there was a slight hiccup in Paris. It wasn't anyone's fault. But it started off a horrible chain of events on... that day. More on that later. Everyone is fine! But that day... shudder.

The Alsace is known for its amazing white wines. Talking about wine makes anyone sound like a pretentious bitch so I'll keep it brief: They are famous for Riesling, Gewürztraminer and Muscat d'Alsace. So it goes sweet, sweeter and sweetest. I brought home a Riesling and a Muscat, and Sarah and I had a jug of Gewürztraminer with the MOST amazing dinner either of us has ever had in our lives.

This is the place where I almost chucked it all in and married a chef who didn't speak a word of English... but who worked magic in the kitchen. In all seriousness, Sarah and I were trying to think of ways for me to stay in Strausbourg, marry the chef and drink white wine out of a jug, everyday.

Below are a few pictures of the experience. They don't do it justice. Sorry!

The restaurant I was standing outside of from earlier posts. We found a small description of it in our guidebook. It sounded fine, but when we went at 6 for diner it was closed. We figured we would just find something else. We were getting ready to leave when another party walks up and starts checking out the place. I ask in my broken French if they know when it opens. They reply in incomprehensible French... this alerts Sarah that they are German. The question is repeated (with better results) in German by Sarah. They heard about this place from locals and it doesn't open until 7, but it is sooo good that they came an hour early to make a reservation.

This is what the place looks like inside. There were only 6 tables. This kind of restaurant is called a "Winestub" and their focus is traditional, regional, seasonal cuisine. The name of the place was "Au Couchon" (I think it means ceramic wine jug, as that is what our Gewürztraminer came in).

This is Sarah with her Ham Knuckle... sounds kinda gross. I assure you, it was quite the opposite. This was the most delicious thing in the world. End of discussion.

My dinner came in a giant shell! It was a cheese soufflé with crayfish from the local river. So good!

Living in California, we have a plethora of fine eating options. Dinner at this tiny-ass restaurant in the Alsace blew everything out of the water. All the posh places in Napa try to emulate what that handsome Alsatian chef does in the kitchen on a nightly basis. They pale in comparison; it's really kind of embarrassing. If you've ever thought "Hey, I just had a really fancy meal at "fill in the blank expensive restaurant in California". And a great wine to go with it! I'm on top of the world!" You would be incorrect. Save your money. Buy a plane ticket to Paris. Take the train to the town of Stausbourg in Alsace, wait until 7pm, go to rue du Parcelles and find "Au Couchon". You're welcome.

PS Don't get any ideas about that chef. He is mine... or he is dating the pantomiming waitress, but that's another story.

Ah Strausbourg. Now THIS place should be called Aha! This town is in the Alsace region of France, near the German border (like, right on it, on top of the demarcation on the map). I see why they scrabbled back and fourth over this place... let's just say "yum" for now as I have to devote an ENTIRE other post to the food of this region.

Anyways, please to enjoy the pictures of this charming French town.

Ah, French-style quaint is the best!

Fatty gets a cookie!

Post-cookie fattiness... with a body of water!

Fatty, outside of a restaurant... waiting for it to open. Not joking.

Fatty likes this building... pretty sure it would taste good if I took a bite. But Fatty is also Lazy.

Instead of getting up off her ass, fatty snaps a picture of 18th Century French charm from the safety of a park bench.

After Fatty barged in on Communion and ate her weight in wafers (aka the body of our (tasty) Lord), the priest tells her that this is a sacred place. Mouth full of Communion goodness, Fatty asks why the hell this place is so special. This is the Strausbourg Notre Dame and it is more impressive (at least to me, Fatty) than the Notre Dame in Paris. It's old. Fatty was also too Lazy to ask when it was built. It's from like the 13oo's or something cool. Google it. I'm lazy.

The inside of the Strausbourg Notre Dame. They keep the Communion wafers in the front, by the altar... in case you ever go there and are hungry.

The outside of the Notre Dame... sans food.

Au revoir, Communion wafers!

Come with me now as I take you on the most boring adventure in all of German or American history. So before our whirlwind of travel to the Alscace, Paris and Amsterdam; we thought it would be a grand idea to take in the Black Forest (Schwartwald) of Germany. On the way to Schlusshensie, the announcer on the train says that the town of Aha is the next stop. Our hostel is in Schlusshensie (hereafter dubbed S-town because that is quite a word to spell each time), but we can't get Aha out of our minds. What a name! Why didn't we stay there instead of unpronounceable S-town? Aha haunts us. We have to see it. We are compelled. We check into our hostel in S-town and get back on the train to see what wonders the town of Aha has in store for us. The adventure is in pictures below:

Oh and ps, the whole time we were saying Aha like Aha!!!... We were excited.

We took the train one stop and got out at Aha! This is me, triumphant that we got there. What a great time we will have in this place... hey where did the train go?

Um, so above is what we say when the train pulled away. Did they make a special stop in Aha for us? It doesn't look like that train track has been used in YEARS.

What is there to do in Aha? Well, you can hike in the Black Forest...

You can conquer the Black Forest, as I am pictured doing above (really, it was easy).

You can look at this here meadow. That is all there is to do in Aha.

This is Sarah at the same sign after our adventure when we realized that the "town" of Aha isn't a town... it's not even really a train stop. Oh, and it is appropriately spelled WITHOUT the exclamation mark. Aha. Not Aha!

This is back in S-town. Can you spot the flower amongst the flowers?

This is how we found out that "Wiener-Lay" means "American Hotdog". Yes, this is hot dog soup. FANCY, hot dog soup.

Eating Black Forest cake, whilst IN the Black Forest, seemed the thing to do. A gleeful Sarah in the above picture illustrates the correctness of this thinking.

I look bad. Let's just get that out in the open and get over it. It was SUPER cold. The important thing to take away from this picture is that I am drinking mug full of HOT red wine!

The peaceful lake that we walked around to get back to S-town when we realized that the Aha train was NOT coming back.

So ends the saga of S-town and Aha. We spent TWO nights there. Geez.

The mean 12th Century streets of Lich

The Apothecary business, alive and well in Lich

This house has been continually lived in since the 14oo's.

So we were escorted through the lovely towns of Lich (about 5km outside of the town we are using as a base in Germany). The title of the post comes from a brief history of the town as written on the side of one of it's oldest structures, a stone church. The time-line went something like this:

3000 BC - Village of Lich established

417 - Roman rule dissolved

550 - This Church is built

1918 - WWI ends

1947- WWII ends

I don't have a picture of the church as it wasn't all that impressive. Many of the structures you see though, (houses, ect) are all original from as early as the 13 or 14oo's. Oh, also, there was a Castle in town that we couldn't take a picture of. Why? Because someone lived there and that was their house. Who lives there? The Hessian Prince of Lich. The Castle was from the 1200's and the Prince's family used to own all of Lich but sold it off bit by bit. So yeah... I almost trespassed onto an ancient Germanic Prince's property because I couldn't read the "Stay the Hell out of Here" signs in German.

Anyways, here is Lich.

So I'm in Amsterdam! We just got done with two days in the Alsace and four days in Paris, now we are heading out the door to explore Amsterdam for a bit. I will post pics and things when I get back to Germany. There are LOTS of Americans here... it's like frat-boy mecca. I kinda miss France where no one spoke English for fear of reprisal. Oh, btw, French people are SUPER nice, French people in Paris are EVEN NICER. It was a great treat. I was freaking out over how snotty and rude everyone would be, but seriously... SO nice! More on that later. I'm off to wander the streets, take pictures and cough at the smell of pot in the air.

How to have a good time in Germany:

Step 1: Eat some Apple Strudel and Raspberry Cake.

Step 2: Have a Banana Beer.

Oh, and the sign behind me says that every Tuesday is Schnitzel day, every schnitzel is 6 euros... hurray!!!

Step 3: Look at crazy, charming houses!

Step 4: Climb to a Castle...

Step 5: Take a picture of the quaint-filled village

Step 6: Realize that you feel VERY at home inside a Castle

Step 7: Read the stairs. Sorry it's in German but, y'know, Germany and all. Sarah says it's a Brothers Grimm quote... probably something about stairs (Treppen is the word for stairs, you can find it on the 5th step from the bottom).

Step 8: Have a random German person take your picture!

Step 9: This step is not necessary or recommended, it involves answering a question (most emphatically) while having your picture taken.

( This is not a step.. this is just a picture of me surrounded by German-style quaint. I'm to the left)

Step 10: Drink so much Banana Beer that you swear to God this spire is swirly...

So we took a day trip to Marburg because the dad we are staying with (Jürgen) had to visit his brother. I was excited to see more of Germany (read: find more Beer Gardens), but didn't really know what I was in store for. What was I in store for? QUAINT-OVERLOAD!!! Pictures and some explaination are to follow. THIS is the Germany I was expecting, and we found it within German boarders... not in Austria.

Sarah and I just walked for two hours in search of a mystery Beer-Garden in the forest. We didn't find it, so no Banana-Wisen for me today. Here are some pictures of this sad, sad event.

We were so hungry when we got back to the Krielings house, we ate springrolls, chili and potatoes... and had two lemonade-beers each.

Everybody to please make prayer that we get banana beer tomorrow!

Me. Looking REALLY cool in the train station. Backpacking through Europe makes me look dorkier than usual. Great.

Austriafromthetrainlookquick!

Hehehe... German is a funny language.

Austria...

Austria and my creepy ghost hand...

The mountains!!!

Austria!!! An accurate representation!

Towns nestled at the foot of the Alps...

Things I've eaten:

Lardo!!! An Italian specialty, it is a hunk of fat from an animal, salted beyond belief to preserve it. Thats it! Its just a huge chunk of salted animal fat and it is so delicious... I want to bring some home but it wouldn't be as good as freshly cleaved from the bone in an Italian deli (or as Sarah described it, "fresh off the fat stick").

Gelato! Italian Ice Cream, made fresh daily by each individual Gelateria. Flavors range from Grapefruit to Pistachio to Florentine Creme to Panna Cotta.

Calamari the size of my face! So this isn't Italy-specific, but it was tasty and quite impressive. I don't know what gigantic Adriatic squid died for my diner, but he didn't go to waste!

Pizza! Different than in America. Super thin-crust, strong cheese and some sort of preserved meat on it... delicious!

Italian Cappuccinos! About three a day.

Things I've learned so far:

Italians and Germans always sound like they're yelling at you... because they are. I should explain. Italians are just REALLY emphatic about everything. There was a little boy on our train named Vincenzo. If you asked him any question, the response was administered with equal enthusiasm. Like, Vincenzo, where are you going? "Toute Milano!!!!" Vincenzo, what are we passing? "La Montanyas!!!". Vincenzo, what are you eating? "Un Ballon (a ball)!!! Sa Delicioso!!!!". While Germans are also yelling at you, it's just how their language is set up. When a command is given, it is always followed by and exclamation point. For instance, on a bag of chips it says "Open Here!", or when the ticket collector on a train asks for your tickets, it comes out as "Make Ready Your Tickets NOW!!!".

While Italian food is good, German food is better. I know, no one is more shocked than I. I had prepared myself to be blown away by the food in Italy but in actuality, Italian food is just as good as in America. Gnocchi tastes the same, pasta is the same, tomato sauce is hard to screw up, and if Americans could stomach the idea of Lardo, it would be plentiful in the States. But German food? Wow! There is NO good German food in America, that's why it is all the more amazing here. The saurekraut is tangier, the schitzel is crispier, the beer is darker and mealier, the bread has no preservaties and is baked fresh at home every day. I LOVE German food! I am going to do my best to bring Banana-Wisen (Banana Beer) to the American public.

Austria, now THAT'S Germany! I didn't really have a preconceived notion of what Germany would look like. I figured it was all straight out of the Sound of Music, or Heidi, or insert scenic countryside with snow-capped mountains here. Nope. Not at all. Germany is almost perfectly flat. It is very green, has lots of rivers, dense forests and not a mountain within its boarders. On our trip to Italy we passed through Austria... THERE where the mountains with snow and quaint villages! HERE is the Germany I was picturing... it's Austria. I will post some pictures of the Austrian mountains... they were taken from a moving train and doesn't do the country justice but you will just have to take my word for it: Austria is the Germany of your dreams.

Sarah is prettier than me. This is us on the Rialto (you don't know what that is, do you?), it's the main bridge over the grand canal in Venice.

Venice at night... excuse its beauty!

Me in iconic Saint Mark's square. You may recognize it from such movies as that awesome 3rd Indianan Jones!

Saint Mark's Basilica

Gondolas!

A Venetian street.

Everybody VOTE COMMUNIST!!!