Western Ireland

The west coast of Ireland is rugged and rainy due to the pounding Atlantic Ocean. We only had a few days and wanted to spend time exploring the rugged landscape. Although the Dingle Peninsula was highly recommended to us by both Rick Steves and a few friends, we opted for Doolin in County Clare. Doolin is a tiny village known for good live music and located on the coast near The Burren national park.

Doolin

Apparently, we weren't the only ones who heard about Doolin's music scene. The four local pubs got mobbed with tourist buses (the bane of my existence) every night. Not only that, but the music wasn't as good as what we'd heard in Dublin. But we made the most of it by chatting with some visiting Germans. It was a very funny situation. Two other couples and we were crowded at a table together, when the Irish couple asked the Germans where they were from. The Irish couple replied, "Wirklich? Wir haben in der Schweiz gewohnt." To which I replied, "Also, alle in Doolin sprechen Deutsch." ("Really? We lived in Switzerland." "Apparently everyone in Doolin speaks German.") The German couple were quite surprised that the Irish people and the Americans sitting with them could all speak German, and we had a very nice conversation, and the German couple were nice enough to give us a lift back to our hostel. (It was pouring by then.)

We drove along the coast and hiked in the Burren. The landscape was unbelievably rocky; I can't imagine trying to farm this land. The Burren was unfortunately very touristy, but we did have one nice hike away from the crowds.

atop a huge hill in the Burren

The main draw of the Burren are the neolithic sites. We managed to see a few-- the frustration was a lack of trails, which made me hesitant to wander too far away from the car, there aren't exactly a ton of landmarks on this kind of terrain. But maybe with better organization, one could see more of the neolithic sites away from the crowds. Here is a very visited tomb entrance that was pretty cool.

All in all, western Ireland is very cool, but if I were to go back, I'd probably pick a different place to stay.

Dublin

We got back from our vacation a few days ago, and I have so much to write about I don't know where to start.  I guess I'll start with the beginning, a very good place to start.  On the flight over we were magically upgraded to first class.  I'd never flown first class before, and although our flight was only an hour and a half,  I decided to take full advantage of my privileges, by ordering many beverages and eating a fancy salad although it was 4pm and not anywhere near actual meal time.

Dublin is not a beautiful city.  Its roughness was illustrated within our first hour as we witnessed the end of a vicious bar fight.  Despite its roughness, or perhaps because of it, there is a certain charm to it.  While there are prettied up, touristy bits, the city at large seems rather indifferent to tourists.  Maybe it sounds strange, but I like it.  Some places you visit are so keen on selling you the "real" experience that the town starts to feel more like Disneyland than a place where people actually live. 

But disregard all that, and let me hypocritically point out that my highlight of Dublin was The Guinness Experience.  Much like Swarovski Kristallwelt in Innsbruck, Austria, some of these corporate "museums" take themselves so seriously you just have to laugh.  A lot.  Did you know that the five ingredients of Guinness are water, yeast, barley, hops, and Arthur Guinness? (Not literally, I hope.)  But Guinness did include a pint with a view, whereas Swarovski didn't give me any crystal thingies as part of admission.

The main attraction of Dublin is the night life.  Many bars have live music, and it ended up being the best we heard in Ireland.  Try not to get obsessed with this song, I dare you.  Half the places we went were also engraved with quotes from James Joyce's Ulysses, which I've always been to intimidated to tackle, but at this point my curiosity might get the better of me.

Our stay in Dublin was brief, but satisfying.  Stay tuned for the next blog: "Driving around Ireland in the Rain"....or something like that.

I Wanna Go Home....

I suppose its fairly normal in the expat community to have weeks (or in some cases months, years...) where you loathe your adopted homeland and long for the sanity of your own country.  Last week was one of those weeks, officially an "I Hate Germany Week."

The feeling came upon me last week that I never have respite from dealing with the bureaucracy of living, working, and moving around in Germany.  There is always something to be done.  Some error at the bank, an issue with my paycheck, insurance, Ryan's HR department being unreasonable.  But the last straw was an unwelcome visit from the GEZ.

I should explain.  In the United States we have public television, which is so-so, and funded by selling tote bags during semi-annual "pledge weeks."  I have never bought one.  In the UK and Germany public television is funded by a TV tax.  This is not a tax when you buy a TV, but rather a tax on owning a TV that you are supposed to self-report and pay monthly.  I loved the BBC when we lived in the UK but never paid this tax, despite threatening letters describing the Licensing Agency's heat-detection systems that could find any hidden TV without even entering your front door.  (Seriously.)

German public television is pretty bad, and it has commercials, so it beats me as to why I should have to pay for it.  I tossed the warning letters on the grounds that if they wanted people to pay this stupid tax they should make it more enforceable-- their problem, not mine.  Several friends had advised me that agents from the GEZ could come and search your house for TVs, radios, and computers, but only if you let them in, which legally you are not obligated to do.  So that was the game plan.  Until last Thursday.

I was actually home cooking dinner around 6pm, instead of at school, as usual.  The buzzer rang and since it was after working hours, I figured it must be Ryan lugging a crate of beer.  He does that sometimes when he doesn't want to set the crate down to hunt for his keys.  So I buzzed him in.  Then I opened the apartment door and sure enough he came up the stairs a minute later, but with an older lady.  She asked "did you buzz me in?" and I told her yes, not letting her in the door, but talking to her in the hall.  Too late.  She flashed her GEZ badge and could apparently see the TV from some bizarre angle standing in the doorway.  I was so irritated I asked Ryan to deal with her while I finished cooking.  He  confessed to everything; not following the rules makes Ryan anxious.

So now we owe the stupid Licensing Agency something like 170 Euros.  Its enough to make me throw up my hands and say "To hell with this country!"  I'm still quite irritated, although having a great neighborhood festival this weekend somewhat makes up for it.  All I'm saying is, Germany better appreciate me, or I will leave and then won't it be sorry!

Socialized Medicine

One of my Dad's lessons when I was a teenager was "how to deal with health insurance."  I'm sure when I was 16 I found it an occasion for eye-rolling, but today I was very grateful for that lesson.

Upon our move to Berlin last year, Ryan and I became enrolled in the German public health care system.  This is government-mandated health insurance run by private insurance companies.  The insurance companies in the public system cover mostly the same things and have the same fee structures.  There are small differences to each, but it didn't seem like choosing amongst them was particularly important.  Ryan paid 7.5% of his income, which his employer matched, and we paid 10 Euro a quarter to visit a doctor.  Both of us were covered and life was pretty good.

Last March, when I started working full-time, I was disappointed to discover that I, too, was expected to pay into this scheme.  The problem is that my income varies quite widely from month to month.  After much back and forth with the insurance company, it was decided that I would pay 316.00 Euros per month.  On a good month that's about 15% of my income, but on a bad month, that's 33% of it.  I told the insurance company that it was "bullhockey" (to quote Dad) that our premiums would basically double and we would receive no extra benefit.  But that's the German law.  (I guess I'm just supposed to stay home and have babies.)

So I started looking for private health insurance (not subject to the German mandates).  If you have a regular job, you can only qualify for this if you have earned over 4000 Euros a month (w/out dependents) for the last three years or more.  But freelancers and business owners can also qualify for private without this minimum income.

I've had meetings with two health insurance agents so far, and the process is pretty confusing.  Private health insurance is more similar to the American system, with a few exceptions.  The standard beginning for the conversation is the same "How much do you weigh?  Do you have AIDS?" etc, and I was surprised to see that companies can choose to exclude you based on certain factors, (i.e. those times I visited the student counseling center in college, apparently I'm uninsure-able by certain companies) but mostly they just charge you extra for each "pre-existing condition."  The nice thing about the public system is that you don't have to answer private health questions and pay extra for these things.  Also, the benefits in the private scheme vary so widely that they're pretty much impossible to figure out without an agent to help you.  Luckily, on my second try, I found a very helpful agent.  We spent nearly two hours today going over every detail of private health insurance, fee structures, etc.  The most bizarre thing is that some companies don't cover mental health, or teeth cleanings, but all of them cover alternative medicines and acupuncture.  Just what I need.  Maybe they can cure depression by rubbing crystals on one's forehead?

But at last, I've chosen a company.  Soon I'll see whether they accept me, and then I will have to see whether this private system is all that it's cracked up to be.  I know that if I were a true socialist, I would stay in the public system no matter what, but I guess I'm only socialist up to the point that it gets too expensive.  Is that my American upbringing?  Maybe so.  But lest I excite the ghost of Ayn Rand too much, I am happy to live in a country where everyone has access to health care.  And no, it's not cheap.  But I'm glad that Germany puts a priority on the health of it's citizens, and I hope that the U.S. will do likewise.  (I will still probably buy cheap health insurance, though.)

Serbia

"Welcome to the third world."  Zoran greeted us as we deplaned in Belgrade.  Ryan's coworker had invited us to his yearly cook-out at his cabin in southern Serbia.  There would be swimming, lamb roasting, good wine, and good cheer.

I had figured that Serbia wasn't such a big country, but it took over three hours to drive from the airport to Lake Bor.  From our first few minutes' driving we noticed the stark contrasts of this country.  It was very common to see abandoned broken-down houses next to tacky mini-mansions.  The highways were as good as any in western Europe, while the local roads were nausea-inducing in their bumpiness.

I always expect that poorer countries will be dreary and sad all over.  As if the people will be shabby and worn-down, the sky grey, the landscape brown and half-dead.  But, as I learned in Tijuana several years ago, and in Serbia recently, people do what they always do: survive and try to enjoy life.  The countryside was beautiful.  Despite the hardships of people, trees grow, flowers bloom, and the sun shines indifferently.  Many parts of Serbia look like my native Montana.  But then I would see a large rocket shell in someone's front yard, and be reminded we weren't in Kansas anymore.

Serbia is a mixture of the old and new.  On Saturday we were treated to a traditionally-roasted lamb on a spit, after spending the day at a trendy beach bar.  Zoran's family and friends were so kind and welcoming to us, and we really enjoyed our stay.  Serbia is definitely wilder than western Europe.  Every time you forget about its recent history of war, and the tensions that still lurk under the surface, something pops up to remind you.  Even at the barbecue, one of the children was walking around with a large toy machine gun.  It was funny but also creepy.

When I travel I try to use the experience to learn about a new history and culture.  But I think our trip to Serbia was too short to have a handle on any part of it.  What I do know is that Serbians, like all other people, have worked to overcome their past.  I'd like to go back and see more of Belgrade, but for now I'll have to leave you with my initial impressions of this exotic country.

World Cupdate

I know I've complained about the World Cup A LOT, (and trust me, most of it is super boring) but there are some good points to it. Germany has advanced through every round so far and plays tonight against Spain, a grudge match since Spain beat Germany in the Euro Cup two years ago. And soccer can be exciting when you're really into a certain team. Last weekend we went down to the "public viewing" area, and despite sweating off about 5 gallons, it was really fun to be in the crowd when Germany mopped up Argentina 4-0.

The best part of World Cup is definitely its mass appeal. I was trying to think of a comparison in the U.S. and decided its like having a month-long Super Bowl. But another difference is that most people watch World Cup in cafes, public viewing areas, etc, while most Americans watch the Super Bowl at home. Its more exciting to watch with a huge crowd, I think.

Last night I met my tandem partner for language practice at a cafe. Like every cafe and restaurant in this country, it was showing the Cup (Netherlands vs. Uruguay). I left around 9:00 to bike home. On the way I passed over a dozen cafes, and could check the score every few minutes. Not that I needed to. In these big games, when someone scores, you hear it.

By some bizarre twist of fate, I'm currently in 4th place on our office bracket. This is definitely dumb luck because I mostly chose teams based on how many people I know from that country. I think I'm the only one in the top positions who picked Germany to win the whole thing-- so as long as Paul the Psychic Octopus is wrong, that 25 Euro bookstore gift card is all mine!!

Destination mmmmm......

There are many chains of grocery stores in Germany, from cheaper, disorganized ones like Penny Markt, to upscale organic ones. I usually shop at Rewe, because they offer local produce, meats, and eggs, but I often hear about the mysterious Aldi.

Aldi is a little chaotic for me, and the lines are always long. But they do offer short-term amazing deals on non-grocery items, like home decor, computers, and even camping equipment. All of these offers last just a few days, so word of mouth is key. On Friday my friend, Grace, told me that Aldi was hosting "American Week" so I rushed over yesterday and was not disappointed.

There was a barrage of items you can't find in Germany, like marshmallows, plus plenty of items you usually only find for much higher prices, like tortillas (normally 2-3 euros, at Aldi this week for 99 cents). So I stocked up, and have been stuffing myself ever since. I bought popcorn shrimp, marshmallows, tortillas, some very weird scones, and these fried onion things that claim to be American, although I've only ever seen them sprinkled in Thai food or on top of German Kaese Spaetzle. They also had things like jelly beans and bagels. I might have to buy some more later. It's sad to think American food week only comes once a year!

Here is the Aldi link if you're curious as to what's available here.  I didn't see the ice cream and pecans yesterday, I hope they're not sold out!!