I’m a postcolonialist, get me out of here

The orientation week is finally over and I hope I don’t have to answer odd questions asked by Americans anymore. These questions that only Americans can ask. Like which language in Germany is spoken or how licence numbers are assigned in Europe. But they are curious about us Europeans. That is good. Europe is aaaaaawesome, indeed. I’ve been very diplomatic and polite. Intercultural communication. It’s chasing me.

The last week I’ve been drinking more beer than water. But beer consists of water (besides barley, hops and malt). And I always have to drink more water. So I assume that’s ok. I think it’s not true that Germans drink more beer than every other country in Europe. Brits drink way more. The statistics are wrong.

Another thing is that living the past years in Berlin seems to make quite an impression on a lot of people. Everybody loves Berlin. Even people that have never been there. Or academic staff. I had an appointment with my academic supervisor and he did not say “Hello, nice to meet you”, he came in and said “You’re from Humboldt!”. Also, being German forces people to say something about Germans. Punctual, honest and so forth. When I asked for a stamp for my learning agreement that I have to bring back to Germany, my supervisor said: “Stamps, stamps, Germans always want stamps! I don’t have a stamp!” Or as I said that I have to write a certain amount of pages, so that I can count a course for my studies home, he replied: “Pages, pages! You’re so fussy about pages! My publisher in Berlin is always talking about pages. That I have to write more pages! Count in words!” I think the page complaining is a personal issue.

I went to an international television conference in the British Film Institute yesterday. After a few hours I discovered that the person who held the keynote speech has studied in Hildesheim. I hate the small-world-effect. And Hildesheim.

Laura

Stand right, go left

Yesterday, I had my enrloment at London Met and some truly hilarious presentations were given. I can't hide this link from you. It describes the everyday craziness in the London underground. Watch it.


Michael McIntyre about the tube in the City

I managed to open a bank account. It feels that, now, I can do everything. But the question is, what can I do?

On my first day I tried my luck at HSBC to open a nothing-to-loose-simple-no-monthly-fee cash account. But without my passport I cannot prove my address. And with my ID I cannot prove my identity and my address (even though both are proven on that card). My passport lies in a wonderful wooden chest of drawers in Berlin. Lucky me. So I tried my proof of address (ID was my proof of identity) with my tenancy agreement (ok, it’s just a receipt for holding a deposit but that doesn’t matter). But I have a private landlord, so no proof of address. Next, I tried my Offer Letter from uni, but the UK Border Agency has revoked London Metropolitan University’s authorisation for international students who need a visa. As I am from members of the EU, I thought this wouldn’t affect me at all. How naive. The HSBC has to get an „OK“ from the Border Agency that the uni is a sponsor for international students. So my offer letter was not helpful at all. The employee told me either to get a job or come with my passport again and pay a monthly fee of 8 pounds.

Today I went to Barclays and got a cash and a savings account. For free. With my ID. Ha!

It feels like I reached a goal and am now full of energy for everything. I have now much more free time than in the past months. And that’s the problem. Free time and no friends. Well one friend, who’s currently out of town. I have to face it: I have to get in contact with other exchange students. Yuck!

Laura

P.S. I realised that the common thing for women is to make one’s face up in the tube. Is it a time saving thing? I don’t get it. Like putting on make up in cars, it’s too hard for me.

Oh splendid, VW-driver. I'm sure you have the biggest.

Notting Hill, the show-off Portobello Road

Stream of Goodbyes

Right before you’re heading to go somewhere you’re reflecting the past years, decades or at least what you will leave behind. It seems that the years of study, which have gone on for five years now – are a permanent farewell. Leaving your home city to study, finish your studies and lose sight of your study buddies, start a new course – drop out and start another new course (where you want to drop out, but you won’t, because you dropped out before and don’t want to be like a s.o who dropped out) and finally go for a semester (better: term) abroad and say goodbye to your study buddies, that you just said hello to. Not forgetting to mention loads of badly paid internships with goodbye cakes and goodbye cards.

The most amazing thing is, when you’re in your mid-twenties, that you’re likely to settle down. Not like building a house and getting married, but you know, a bit. The urbanised settle down. Being in a sincere relationship, move in together in a nice flat, great neighbourhood with a fair rent (Berlin, baby). But you want to move on. Especially when you’ve never lived in a foreign country before. Very bad for your CV. So you’re taking the last chance, take the advantage of Erasmus and go in your final semester before your thesis (again a thesis...) and try to have the great experience of intercultural communication. I know what I’m talking about, that’s the course where I dropped out. It’s fun in practice, not really in theory. But for that, you have to say goodbye to your beloved one and start a  l o n g – d i s t a n c e  r e l a t i o n s h i p. An awful name, for stressful Skype connections, where the video call doesn’t function and you always hear an echo. Or metallic noise. Awareness of the medium, nobody wants that for intimate discussions with your boyfriend. But that’s our generation, isn’t it? The Easy Jet generation with loads of bird strikes (three times in one month!). But never ever Ryanair.

But before the blog becomes a melodramatic teenage diary: thank you for reading, friends, randoms and voyeurs. I hope you appreciate the digital status messages. I’m very bad at staying in contact. As you might know. But you still read my blog. Yay!

Laura