God said no

Matthew, from South Africa, liked to ask me philosophical/goofy/thought-provoking questions, while we walked the streets of Venice and sat in cafes together.

"If you could have lived in any era in history, which one would you choose?"

"When was the last time you told a lie?'
(This one led to a lengthy decision about the ways that we lie to ourselves on a daily basis, rationalizing decisions in order to silence our inner-voices)

"If you could tell people one thing about your trip so far, what would it be?"

My over-active mind, referenced in the last post, gets all excited, at times to the point of paralysis, by questions such as these. I struggle to answer from a "gut" place, and instead, I weigh all the possible answers, formulate a poetic reply, but then imagine another possible response, and so on.  I´m working on this. :)  I wish I could remember my exact words to this final question though, because a response came to me quickly, and with an unusual confidence: "I guess, more than talking about a specific city, monument, or experience, because there are already too many of those to be able to pick just one, I would just want people to know that I am actually okay, and how empowering it is to realize this.  Traveling alone doesn´t have to be lonely, and the world doesn´t have to be a scary place. And that this doesn´t have to set me apart from others. So many people have said to me, "I could never do that", that they could never travel alone.  I think they could. It´s such an amazing thing to have realized this about myself."

I have this really tangible sense of my experiencing of traveling solo happening in phases. There are growing pains as the phases shift, and I am left in a place of unsettled-ness for a bit, asking, "Okay, so, what´s next for me to learn?  What is this next phase going to be about?"  My first two phases had to do with specific life themes that I was thinking about a great deal, the aspects of my life I wanted to have "figured out" by the time I had left Europe.  Nothing is "figured out", though I imagine that many things have shifted without my even realizing it.  This last phase I´ve realized is a return to just being present in each day in Europe, my realization that, as I learn how to walk around the world believing that I am enough, and each moment is enough, that those other things will figure themselves out in the right timing. It is enough to stop trying, and just to allow myself to be (in fact, if I was looking for a challenge, this is perhaps the greatest challenge).

When I last posted, I was about to head to a beer hall, Augustiner Bräustuben, in Munich.  I had a moment, upon walking in, where I lost that solo-traveler groove.  The place was packed and loud, an oompah brass band playing "Oh When the Saints", beer steins clanging, Germans singing, tourists drinking their faces off, and everyone seemed to be part of a group.  There was not an empty space to be seen. Self-talk, a proud posture, and a convincing smile, I began walking through this place which turns out was HUGE. In the back corner, through 3 separate rooms, I asked a waiter tentatively, "For one?" and he pointed towards the last table, where there was a German family of 5 and 2 American girls. Everyone was super friendly, and I was relieved to have instant company in this jolly place, as I sipped my Augustiner beer (this beer hall is located within the famous brewery) and ate (more) sausage.

Friday was a pretty uneventful day in Munich, taking care of practicalities like finding shoes for €7.99 (I had been trying to bring back "socks and Birks" in Europe, but it was not taking off), and endeavouring to remain zen through a battering of poor customer service from Vodafone.  I found the "Glockenbach-Viertel" area, a funky, more alternative and less conservative area of town, which was fun to wander in for a bit, and sip an over-priced coffee in a cafe surrounded by gay men.  As I got ready for bed that night (around 11pm), Cam, a cute Australian boy from my dorm (cute in a "tuck him into my pocket" kind of way, as my friend Deb would say), invited me to come clubbing with him and his friends.

Liz: How old are you?
Tuck into pocket Cam: 18.  I´m still a bebe.

Albeit a cute bebe, he then proceeded to call me "nana" for the rest of our conversation, despite my attempt to explain that clubbing hadn´t really been my thing at 18 either. I was actually tempted to check out some Munich nightlife, but then TIP Cam started talking about all of the Jäger shots he would do before leaving, and saying things like, "Partayyy...yahhhh...I´ve never been clubbing in another country before...yahhhhhh...." while waving his arms in the air. I resumed thinking about the appeal of my uncomfortable bed.  Bed won.

My train ride to Nuremburg on Sunday was spent across the aisle from an American teenager, who was working hard at translating into English an article in a German women´s magazine about how to give a great blowjob, with the help of his German friend beside him.  This took well over 30 minutes (the translation, that is).  I smiled to myself as I got off the train, and walked along the city´s restored medieval wall on the way to my hostel.  Quite charming, really, and I was glad to be in smaller city once again.  After checking into the hostel (cleanliness, check!  free internet, check!  kitchen for guest use, check!  locks on dorm doors......not so much), I wandered around the walled city centre for a bit, and went into the gorgeous Lorenzkirche (Church of St. Lawrence), a medieval church whose columns, gargoyles, stained-glass quite literally made my jaw drop.  Beautiful.  Next, a moving art exhibit at the Kunsthalle - "Any Day Now", art by Dutch artist Mathilde ter Heijne (http://www.kunsthalle.nuernberg.de/ausstellung/2010/heijne/heijne_G.HTM) - eerily realistic sculptures of women (made from molds using her own head and hands), stark social commentary on domestic violence, capitalism, and explorations of women´s handiwork, non-monetary systems of exchange, and matriarchal cultures.  From beginning to end, I was totally enveloped in this world created by her art and ideas.

Okay, and I ate sausage one more time.  I´ve made a number of exceptions on this trip, in order to experience local cuisine, but I do think I´m done again now with the whole eating animals thing for a while. Nuremburg is known for its Nürnberger Bratwürste, little finger sized sausages, served with either sauerkraut or warm potato salad. As I arrived on Sunday, and no grocery stores were open, it seemed the time to try the local fare at a well known local pub, Bratwurst Röslein (If I had to rate my sausage experiences, I must say that I enjoyed Munich´s weisswurst much more). My dark Tucher beer was quite lovely though (a well known Bavarian beer).  AND, while I´m on the subject of food, Nuremburg is also famous for its Lebkuchen, a traditional German soft ginger cookie, technically meant for Christmas time, but eaten the rest of the year as well.  Chewy and spicy, with a hint of orange flavour.  I had a plain one on Sunday, and a chocolate covered one today, from a delightful little bakery.  Mmmm...

Nuremburg is a familiar name to many, due to its integral role during WWII and in the war´s aftermath. The Nazis first held party rallies here in 1927, and during the 30s, they extended their grounds around the Dutzenteich Lake for these annual rallies to an area covering 11km square. The city was known as "The Temple City of the NS Movement", and Hitler proudly referred to it as "the most German of German cities". The construction work in this rally area was never completed, as it was largely halted when the war began, but it remains the largest example of Nazi architecture in Germany.  Apparently, the city considered demolishing it after the war, but the cost would have been too great for post-war Germany. And so, it stands today, made from materials mined largely by Jewish people imprisoned in concentration camps, in an area of town that feels desolate, chilling. The city has done what seems to be admirable work in owning up to their role in the terror of WWII, and in 2001, a museum was created in one wing of the uncompleted congress hall on these grounds. I took this all in yesterday afternoon, as much as is possible to take all this in, wandering the exhibits that followed the Nazi´s path to power, from post-WWI conditions in Germany, to the "Nuremberg trials" after WWII - this city was the location in which Nazi political/economic/military leaders were tried, sentenced to death, and hung, by American/French/British/Soviet judges in 1946.  I watched footage of these trials, as well as of the party rallies from the 30s, where soldiers and proud citizens paraded through the lovely city centre (that seems quite idyllic in 2010) and then through these stadium grounds, where they gathered to listen to the führer (Hitler) speak. This stadium where I now was standing. Unbelievable.

It all got me thinking about blame and hatred and ethnicity and culture. The incredible poverty in Germany post WWI for example, that created a political climate in which someone like Hitler could rise to power, or how quickly "groupthink" can entirely take over the masses.  Who is to blame?  Maybe "blaming" isn´t the point, or maybe that´s a naive thing for me to say, as a privileged white North-American. I am fond of the song, "God said no", written by Dan Bern (but I prefer Craig Cardiff´s cover). The singer pleads with God to allow him to go back in time and "bring down" Hitler:

God said "no,
If I sent you back
You would get caught up in theory and discussion.
You would let your fears delay and distract you.
You would make friends,
you would take a lover."

I read that at the height of Hitler´s power, 1 out of 500 Germans were vocal about being opposed to Hitler´s government.  How naive is it to think I could have been that 1 of 500?  In my travels, I have seen many examples of how it´s still, in 2010, perhaps quite difficult to be non-white and living in Western Europe. In Italy, nearly every person of colour that I encountered was selling umbrellas or fake Gucci purses on the sides of the road. In Switzerland, there is a far-right party that has quite a presence, and were demonstrating close to Bern when I was there. Their propaganda currently features images of (literally) white sheep kicking black sheep out of the country. I have heard many derogatory remarks made towards Asian tourists. Of course, all this exists in Canada also; perhaps it´s just easier to miss it, as society as a whole is a bit more multicultural (and again, as a privileged white person). Still, I wondered as I wandered this eerie stadium where Hitler once spoke to the masses, how far have we come?

Today, I woke up with the full-fledged version of the cold that I have been fighting for the last couple of days.  Grateful to have the 8-bed dorm entirely to myself, I felt sorry for myself for a while, and went back to bed until nearly lunchtime.  At this point, I decided to suck it up, and wander the beautiful city centre.  I was glad to have seen the images yesterday - they helped me to truly appreciate and understand the beauty of this city as it stands today, to appreciate the restoration that has been done (the town was in absolute rubble after the war), and gave me a sense of balance.  Truly, it´s a lovely, lovely place, kind of what I picture when I imagine a picturesque German town. The walled city centre, a huge castle, incredible church spires, a lively market, and, ohhhh, the bakeries...

xo