Back in Jülich!

Well folks, I'm happy to report that I have returned to Forshungszentrum Jülich for the summer! A professor in Jülich is footing the bill, which, unfortunately, means no travel budget. Travel will be powered by Ye Olde All-Mighty Greenback, which our dearly inept government has reduced to just a little more than half it's value (vs. the Euro) in one short year. In spite of all that, I plan to do a bit of travel this summer. Brussels for certain, and maybe the alps? I brought hiking shoes....

For example, I've been here a week now and already visited Köln and Aachen again. The European rail system is legendary and deservedly so. 8.50€ sends me two hours down the tracks and into the city. I would have preferred to stay in Jülich for the entire work week, but there was a German national holiday on Thursday so work was closed Thur - Mon. Jülich during a national holiday is like you're average church-goer: old, quiet, and asleep. Most people get out of town.


Kölner Dom! My new camera takes much better photos of architecture.


It's a bad day to be Stephen. You get all dressed up and people throw rocks at you.


Ever wonder how to say "Sunflower" in German?

The highlight of the weekend was my visit to Saskia in Simpelveld, NL. Saturday we wandered in and out of old churches and fancy cafés, catching up on the news and eating fresh strawberries. (The strawberries and asparagus are being harvested now so both are cheap and oh-so-tasty). I spent the night in Simpelveld and in the morning we visited a colorful christian church called "The Vineyard", which was very like my old church Calvary Chapel in Utah. But in German. ("Triff und unterhalt sich!" is the closest I can come to "Hang out and fellowship!").


The sunsets around here are great.

Here's a few funny things that have happened so far:

Desperately board, I riffled the research center library for English fiction. I found such classics as "Day of the Dead! The world's scariest film is now a novel!", "The man who loved cat dancing" and the discrete early 1970's documentation of African-American culture entitled "Mammies, Blackies, Half-breads and Bucks".

Jülich's castle mote is perfect for running laps.

My taxi driver from the airport was a Croatian named (I think) Ganni. He didn't speak any English, but is an avid fan of George Bush, Bill Clinton, Condoleezza Rice, and American foreign policy in general. He was totally ecstatic to be driving an American and told me about how he had decorated his home with photos of George Bush and American flags. I think he was the first person I've met in Europe so enthusiastic for America's war in the Middle East.

My trip to the Jülich library wasn't entirely fruitless. I turned up a copy of "12th Night" and "Bluebeard" by Kurt Vonnegut, all 264 pages of which I devoured in a single sitting. I finished 12th night on the train to Aachen.

Also on the train to Aachen was a man playing, very badly, an electric keyboard and carrying, also very badly, a blind-man's cane because he was clearly able to see. (Grammatical mistakes intentional. How many ways can you interpret that sentence?)


Fireworks in Jülich to celebrate some something or other. I watched from my 10th-story balcony.

In Köln I saw the end of the world. Kentucky Fried Chicken and a Dunkin' Doughnuts side-by-side! And both were packed! Oh, great job Germany! You've already got a negative birth rate, so go stuff yourself on greasy food. I'm sure Hefty Helga with her 2-meter waist line has no trouble finding a mate! Dunkin' Doughnuts indeed!

Well, whatever they're eating doesn't seem to be clamping down on baby-making. German babies are everywhere! I didn't remember this many kids and babies last year, and it seems every woman has either a baby or a bump. Ahoy white whale! (or "Ahoi Weißwal!" as they would say)

This might have something to do with the European openness to sex. I'd almost forgotten how prevalent adult stores are in Germany. The main shopping district in Köln sports several, and I got a good laugh from watching a skinny man with an overbite and pink Lacosste shirt weave in and out of every sordid establishment on the street. You could have written "pervert" all over his forehead and it wouldn't have been more obvious.

Last note. This year I was careful to buy some decent-looking shoes before landing in Germany since Germans seem to judge you buy your shoes. (Last year both my shoes and socks were mentioned.) People no longer stare at my feet, which got me thinking. Wearing bad shoes in Germany must be like having large breasts in America. Except in Germany, they're on your feet. So that's what it feels like to be Oprah!

Cheers all!