Intimacy or Exposure?

I have gotten so that I can do quite a bit of thinking as I sail along on my bicycle making my way from Piusallee to the Gymnasium and back each day. The route has become familiar, the rules of the road for the two-wheelers are becoming more clear with practice, and the weather has improved somewhat. By the time you read this the weather will have changed, but never mind. Sometimes I get carried away with my thoughts. On a good day I am feeling intimate with the environment both natural and urban. On the next day I may sense an exposure which exhausts me. Or it can be all jumbled up in a sort of a pleasurable thrill at having escaped a scrape, sandwiched between an interminably long bus and a long row of parked cars. Bicyclists have quite a bit of clout here in Münster. There is a lovely long Promenade which forms a large ring paralleling the automobile Ring which circles the old city center. This Promenade is set aside for folks on bicycles. There are relatively few stop lights, there are trees to protect you from the worst of the elements and avid cyclists will go out of their way to ride here just because it is more relaxing. But actually there are bicycle paths and roads everywhere, criss-crossing the city. Sometimes you must share the space with others. My route to school takes me along "Goldstrasse" where bicycles share the space with cars which have business or reside on that street but through traffic is not allowed. I never feel nervous on this street. If a car comes up behind me, it simply slows down and waits for its turn. Many streets are lined with sidewalk space, subdivided into the red zone set aside for bicycles and the other-than-red for the pedestrians. Believe me, I have learned the hard way that red means dead or "rot ist tot". Even in the busiest shopping areas you can get through on your bike. What is perhaps most dicey however is manuvering through the old city cobble-stoned streets sharing the space equally with pedestrians, buses, taxis and delivery trucks. I saw a regular passenger car getting ticketed for driving through there during the morning commute. Granted, it is bumpy, but rather fun. Early in the morning the way is clear, the road is mine. After school however, I must pick my way through unaware tourists, busy shoppers and faster, goal-oriented cyclists.
No place to park your bicycle?! In fact, parking is somewhat regulated. Some sidewalks are so filled with bicycles that there are chains up and signs making it clear where no parking is allowed. At school there is a huge underground parking area for the students' bikes, with an additional locked cellar room for the teachers' wheels. I prefer the bike racks near the school entrance, basically set aside for teachers. Most folks lock their wheel to the frame and some of us put a plastic bag over the seat anticipating the frequent rain. There are paid city employees who patrol the sidewalks for ill-parked bicycles. They maintain a sort of order, adjusting the placement of bikes and basically improving the quality of bicycle life in Münster.
Not only do you see the occasional recumbent man on a sort of recliner bicycle, I have also seen the businessman in a three-piece suit with a back-support, cushy seat and polished frame. These are so rare even "Münsteraners" don't know what they are called. You've perhaps heard of drug pushers placing contraband in baby strollers, well, here they use the attachable baby carrier. These babies are well-designed for all cargo: swap meet booty, organically-grown veggies and strapped-in howling offspring. Don't want to hear them cry, just zip up the rain shield!

Grade Seven Sacrificial Lambs

It seems clear to me now why the word in German for cell phone is "Handy". The cell phones came in handy the other day when two bright and squirrelly seventh grade boys needed to film Ms. Stout in action during French class. Well, just look at her in those funny rolling healthy-looking shoes! Learning French from an American teacher who throws in a bit of accented German from time to time just isn't exciting enough, so let's take a few pictures. So quite unbeknownst to said teacher a bit of filming was going on. As soon as the perps had left the premises, two other really sweet-faced boys informed me what had transpired.
Within an hour, I was mentioning this bizarre episode to my mentor, and an "official response" swung into action. This event was definitely not to be swept under the carpet. In fact, the school leadership had been waiting for just such an opportunity to drive home the consequences of breaking newly-instated regulations regarding cell phones at school. First, it had to be determined which class these boys belonged to because French class is made up of pupils from three different grade 7 classes. Then the lead teacher of their class was asked to intervene. Within minutes, the phones were confiscated and the boys were called individually into the headmaster's office. Calls were made to parents, where they were informed that a letter of apology from their sons would have to be presented to the victim before any phones would be returned.
In this case, one family was quick to respond. One is still thinking about whether they want their cell phone back. The next time this class met the two squirrels were separated with a minimum of fuss and the whole class seemed somewhat subdued. I must add that these 12-year-olds impress me everyday with how well they are learning French. Since English was their first foreign language, they still sometimes want to speak English to me, as a default "second language", not because they stop to think that yes I am a native speaker of English. As a group they are eager to learn and willing to do the work. One moment they are asking when the first exam will be written and carefully copying the date down. But once the bell rings, the room turns into a gymnasium, where mini-recess reigns. The boys will wrestle and throw each other around out in the hall and then possibly ask the next teacher for a pass to the office to get ice for a sprained thumb.
After every two periods (each period lasts for 45 minutes), there is a longer break: die grosse Pause. At this point most go outside into the court yards for a bit of fresh air. Teachers are assigned supervision around the school premises before and after school and during breaks. Most folks, kids and teachers, alike are munching on healthy tidbits. I have seen plastic boxes of cucumber slices, fresh red pepper slices, and fruit sections. I really believe these second breakfasts make a big difference in the ability to focus on learning. On the other hand, grabbing a quick candy bar only stimulates more hunger. I guess you could call that empty calories.

First Week of School--Almost There

"Apprehension" and "Dread" were two of the vocabulary items which came up in the English 11 class today. Sample sentences were easily at hand since both adjectives described my thoughts about 6am this morning as I listened to the rain pounding on the roof windows of my apartment. I knew that the new rain gear purchased at the REI before my departure was going to be put to the ultimate test today. Plans were made to rainproof the school materials as well. Even the little sun-visor had its role protecting the glasses. Totally unsure of myself I headed out the door well in advance of the time ordinarily necessary for arriving at Gymnasium Paulinum on time. There were few folks in the streets, almost no one on bikes. Within a few seconds I knew that my feet were fully soaked. Other than that the rest of me was well-protected. The downpour was impressive and most cars had on their lights. Take note it is August 9 and midsummer. Claps of thunder had preceded my departure but there was no sign of lightning.
Mine was the first bicycle in the teachers' bike lot. The inside of the wardrobe area was a welcome sight. All of the outer shell came off and I was dry except for the feet. For that I had no solution. I probably will bring a pair of shoes and leave them at school for special circumstances such as today. By the time all of the late arrivals were in my first class, the rain took a rest. I couldn't resist telling the students about Southern Californians who stay home when it rains, how students are frequently absent on such days and my father, the electrician who sometimes didn't work at all when it rained. Well, would you want to risk electrocution?!
This has been a week full of surprises and tests, tests for the teacher, not for the students. There was the printer which didn't want to print until Markus, the tech guru from school came and touched it. Then there was the visit to the public library where many fees are assessed. For one month for 5 Euros I have a sort of trial membership where I can check out as many books, CD's, DVD's, copies of sheet music, as I can carry for mostly no extra fee. Designated items such as current or popular DVD's cost €1 to check out. After that I must pay €3 each time I check out anything. Therefore it is worthwhile to check out as much as you can carry each time. For €20 you can have unlimited check-out privileges for a year. Not really knowing how much time I am going to have for such pursuits, I will wait and see when my month is up. The central library is beautifully designed and located in the core of the city where I pass through daily. Out in front is one of the many current sculptures on display as part of a once every 10 years public art event. This specific piece consists of three large cages which reference three well-known cages dating back 500 years when renegade anabaptist leaders were cruelly executed and put on display in cages which still hang on the tower of the Sankt Lamberti Church.

New School, New Teachers' Room, New Friends

Although it is all new to me, the teachers' room is new to everyone. This is a space which holds a special significance for German teachers. You might call it a communal office where all kinds of activity transpires: catching up with old friends after the weekend or the break, discussing problematic pupils over coffee, collecting money for a field trip, debating politics, hiding behind a newspaper, etc. Each teacher has a cubbyhole and a lockable cupboard. But perhaps the most important space is the wall devoted to announcements of all ilk. If it's important, it's posted there: class coverage(and this might change more than once a day), exam schedules, meeting announcements, scheduled use of special rooms and facilities, and the list goes on. Tradition indicates that teacher X sits in a specific chair at a designated table. God protect the newly arrived who sit in the wrong place by chance. Today, however, was Day One for the newly renovated and enlarged room and claiming territory was a priori. You could see in some peoples' eyes the urgency to settle into the "right" seat.
Sandwiched in among the grade level meetings held this morning was a lovely late morning break celebrating the "round" birthday (50 years) of one of the colleagues. She produced champagne, orange juice, onion cake and vegetable quiche. This was a truly welcome surprise.
On the way home I decided to stop off at a bank and exchange the bulk of the dollars which were burning a hole in my wallet. My first attempt was foiled by the fact that what looked like a bank turned out to be a rather large indoor automated cash access center. Eventually I found a large bank where they were happy to charge me €5 for the privilege of exchanging my dollars at the rate of 1,417. No, it's not good for Americans living in Europe.
Back at the flat, I am enjoying the sunshine which appears between overwhelming clouds. Sitting on the balcony, I am reminded that I am living among the birds in the tree tops. It is splendid to be surrounded by such beauty. Flavia says that in winter the feel is quite different because many of the trees are bare. I hear morning doves cooing, occasional trains passing and children playing in their gardens. For now I have plants to water, something common in Germany, where their pots often line the broad window sills. It promises to be a relaxing weekend with three social occasions and a first visit to a local church.