It’s a crazy time of year here in Germany: the time of Fasching. Fasching is known by other names such as Fastnacht and Karneval. A name that we would understand it as is Mardi Gras. On Sunday I had the opportunity to go to the town square and watch the parade. I would like to say that the parade was advertised 
to begin at the odd time of 1:01 in order to keep with the whole craziness of Fasching. There were soooo many people there. Vendors were also there trying to sell food to those that were standing out in the cold. I would have to say that this was the best parade I have ever been to in my life. Normally, a person in a parade walks by you, throws out some candy, and waves. At a Fasching parade, the people in the parade were walking through the crowds and scaring people from behind. They would come up and draw on people’s faces with washable face paint. I myself got my face marked on as well. The characters would even play with your hair and mess it up. I even saw some people being picked up and thrown over a character’s shoulder and taken away. There was o
ne girl that had a fishnet thrown over her and they took her away. There were so many people in the parade that really went all out for it. There were people in witch costumes and some dressed up as wolves. There were many bands that played a variety of music, all with their own group colors that were painted on their faces. This parade was also enjoyable in the fact that each group had their own chant. Sometimes the chants were just random noises that you would yell back at the group. The chants were written on the cards that were given to us when we got to the town center. Not only was this parade very interactive, the thing lasted almost three hours!!! It was well worth it, though. The parade was a nice getaway from the dorms, even for a couple hours.
Valpo Voyager
Student Stories from Around the World
Month: January 2013 (page 1 of 3)
Nothing boosts your ego when you’re abroad quite like that moment when you’re walking home from the store and someone stops you to ask for directions. I know, this probably doesn’t sound like much of an accomplishment, and maybe I’m over-analyzing the
La Catedral Seo, which was breathtaking.
situation entirely. But in my mind, that must mean that I look like I know what I’m doing out here. And the fact that (after apologizing profusely for my broken Spanish) I was able to successfully guide the person to where they needed to go – I’d say that I walked a little bit taller the rest of the way home feeling like I have a place here in this city.
It’s almost been a month since my traveling companions and I arrived in Europe, and it’s pretty surreal to see how far we’ve all come since we were wandering around the Barcelona airport, aimlessly looking for our bus to Zaragoza and wondering how on earth we were ever going to be able to understand the rapid Spanish that we heard coming from the people around us. And yet here we are, able to communicate and finding ourselves walking the line between being tourists and being locals.
Through some trial and error, I’ve found that they key to this achievement has been to participate in “the little things” that are a part of daily Spanish life here. Going to a coffee shop to read the newspaper over a café con leche. Picking up the groceries for dinner from the supermarket. Taking public transportation. Going to a bar with some friends to watch FC Barcelona play against Real Madrid in the Copa Del Rey soccer tournament. And, of course, participating in local festivals and events.
Enjoying our Roscón de San Valero with a delicious thick hot chocolate made for dipping the cake into!
This past Tuesday was the Fiesta de San Valero (the Patron Saint of Zaragoza), and it was hands-down the best day I’ve had here so far. Around ten thousand people pack into the main Plaza in town at 10 AM to eat a piece of the Roscón de San Valero, a giant wreath-shaped cake that is made specifically for the holiday. Among that huge crowd of people was my little group of amigos and I, all international students hoping to engage in the kind of cultural experience that you can only get from participating in such a huge event. Aside from the delicious Roscón, the events of the day include an abundance of street musicians and bands, free access to historical buildings like the gorgeous Catedral Seo (pictured above), and the ever-anticipated parade of the Gigantes and the Cabezudos.
It’s pretty hard to miss this colorful procession. People pack into the street, and the kids climb onto their parents’ shoulders to better see these interesting traditional characters. Cabezudos are people dressed up in costumes with massive (somewhat frightening) heads. They chase the kids around the plaza, and are a big hit among the 5-10 year old crowd. (The kids who looked to be under 5 weren’t quite sure whether to be fascinated or terrified by them!) The Gigantes are massive puppets, probably 15 to 20 feet tall, that are carried down the street, flanked by musicians. There are about 8 of them, and they’re all different (a king, a queen, one that looks like Don Quijote, etc.).
The Cabezudos, and check out that crowd!
After seeing all the sights of the festival, we headed to a local bar to indulge in some delicious tapas and great conversation. There was nothing out of the ordinary about it, but it was such a fantastic way to end the day. There was just something about being part of the local celebration, followed by enjoying some local cuisine, that helped us to feel deeper immersed into the daily life and true culture of Spain. It’s those types of experiences – the little ones that have put me right in the middle of authentic Spanish living, that will stay in my heart long after I leave this incredible country. Consequently, it’s also those types of experiences that, little by little, help to transform Zaragoza from a tourist destination into a place that I’m glad to call “a home away from home”.
While in Edinburgh, Scotland a couple of weekends ago, we learned about The Greyfriars Cemetery on a three hour tour. Inside Greyfriars Cemetery is a prison now referred to as Covenanters Prison where about 1200 prisoners were kept and 1000 were killed within five months in 1679 by a man called Sir George Mackenzie. At this time, anyone who was Presbyterian and refused to change their religion by the wish of the king was sentenced to the prison that was run my Mackenzie.
This was not your typical prison you may think of today. It is outside, and each cell is made of brick and without a ceiling, leaving inmates completely open and unprotected from the outside elements. Mackenzie was especially brutal to inmates. There was a rule that after a certain time at night, no one was allowed to move, and if they did not follow this rule, the inmate next to them would be killed, leaving their cell mates blood on their hands. Mackenzie was known for his pure brutality and has since been nicknamed “Bloody Mackenzie”. When he finally died, he was buried in Greyfriars Cemetery after having so many deaths on his hands, it has been thought that his soul could not rest.
There have been many mysterious acts that have been recorded surrounding Covenanters Prison. Many people have found bruises and cuts, been put into a coma, and even completely lost their mind, after visiting the prison in more recently years. It has been thought that Mackenzie is still haunting his mausoleum and causing all of these mysterious injuries making Greyfriars Cemetery one of the most haunted places on the earth.
I am one of those people who are greatly interested in supposed hauntings and finding out if they are real or not. For obvious reasons, the cemetery is under lock and chain, not allowing people to wander in and out as they please. There are, however, tours that run and bring groups into the cemetery. Those going on the tour do have to note and I believe sign a waiver saying they will not hold the company responsible if anything may happen to their physical or mental health during or after the tour.
I really wish that I had known about the tour before I left Edinburgh because I most definitely would have gone. Because of this new found information, I am determined to return to Edinburgh one day (hopefully soon) and go on the tour to find out for myself if it really is haunted.
Right in the City Centre of Cambridge is a market that is put on every day, though some vendors do not come if it’s too cold or rainy outside. You can find anything you might possibly need in the market. There are stands filled with fresh fruits and vegetables, stands with candy and stands with t-shirts and sweatshirts, even onesies for babies. One of my personal favorite stands is the stand with all of the fresh bread. Here they sell homemade fresh focaccia bread, cinnamon rolls, croissants, crescent rolls, and many different types of large loaves. Right next door is a stand filled with more types of fresh olives than I ever thought existed. My father would be in heaven there.
Another great stand as you weave through the aisles is where juice is freshly squeezed. Here you can buy freshly squeezed orange or apple juice by the glass. You can even pick up a smoothie. Though the prices are a bit more here, it is for obvious reasons and every now and then you have to splurge to try something amazing and fresh.
If, while shopping away, you find yourself hungry, there is a trailer in the market to clench that hunger. Or, if you want to walk about a block down the road, there is an amazing crepes cart that is my personal favorite place in all of Cambridge. Our group may or may not already be loyalty members. (We might have gone 5 times within two weeks, but who’s counting) With hundreds of options for what kind of crepe you want, at the low cost of between £2.70-4, you can have yourself a great lunch with some great company. The crepes guy may be the nicest and friendliest person in all of Cambridge (who also may already know us by name).
There are so many different opportunities in Cambridge right outside our door that we never would be able to experience back in Valpo. Though we do all love Valpo, this experience is one of the most amazing in our lives. And the crepes and market just make it that much better!
This weekend was the first time that our group really split up and did their own thing. Caiti and I decided that we were going to Dublin with her sister, Erin, since she was flying to visit. We should have known the second that Caiti’s mom called saying Erin’s flight had been delayed that this trip was not going to go according to plan. Our flight was supposed to leave at 11:05 a.m. We were not on it. By 10:45 a.m. when the gates were closing, Erin was still no where in sight. Caiti and I had already gone through security and customs and were waiting by gate 82. When we talked to the flight attendant, she said Erin hadn’t even checked in yet. She had no phone and they couldn’t page her over the intercom. We had no way of getting a hold of her. They tried to tell us to just go on the flight anyway and that they would tell her to take the next one out, but we weren’t about to do that.
Finally deciding we were going to miss our flight, we headed back out and to the main waiting area. However, we would have to go back through security again, and once we did that, we knew there was no chance in making it to Dublin. We started to pace a bit and figure out what we were going to do. If we walked through those gates all the money we spent on the flight would be gone as well as the money for the hostel and bus tickets, which was quite a bit of money. Walking up to the custom service desk for Aer Lingus, we asked him to help us, hoping he could do more than the people from gate 82. Thankfully, he did. Somehow, he managed to get a hold of a woman who happened to be talking to Erin at that time. Caiti was able to talk to Erin on the phone and figure out what we were to do next. From what we were told on our side of security, Caiti and I would be able to get our tickets and just pay an additional £63 but Erin would have to buy an entirely new ticket for upwards of £213. With those amounts in mind, we killed our dream of going to Dublin and headed back through security.
After we finally reaching Erin, we found out she was told something much differently, that she, too, would be able to just pay the £63 and we could all make the 12:35 p.m. flight. Jumping on this opportunity, we bought our tickets and rushed back through security, only to be stopped and have our bags searched (something we didn’t have to go through an hour previous when we went though). Once we made it through security for the second time, we rushed back through the terminal and found our way to gate 84 and made our flight. It was quite a relief to be sitting on the plane and knowing we would actually make it there this time.
Once we reached Dublin, things began to go a little more smoothly, until we reached the hostel that is. Our room was on the third floor, which was fine by us. There were 15 beds, all full and of both men and women. We walked in to a shirtless man from Istanbul introducing himself to us. We soon had people from France, London, Bologna, Italy and a few other places sharing a room with us. This was a very new experience because we had never shared a room with anyone besides our group before and they have always been all girl rooms. At this moment, I felt at such a disadvantage. Not only was I a girl, but I was an American girl who only knew how to speak English. It felt like everyone else in the room could at least speak two, if not five, different languages.
Once we slightly settled in, we needed to head downstairs to get a locker for our belongings, though it was quite interesting to me how many people decided to leave their purses or bags scattered around their bed area free for anyone to take. As I headed down the hallway, there was a button you had to hit in order to unlock the door to the stairs. The button was broken. I brought Erin back to try to figure out the door to see if maybe I was doing something wrong. After about 5 minutes of playing around with the door, we both came to the conclusion that it was, in fact, broken. But there was an emergency exit I had seen signs for, so we decided it would be a good idea to venture out that way to see if that led anywhere. That turned out to be a terrible idea. We got stuck.
We soon realized the only exit in that dark, dirty, garbage filled stairwell, was a door that was wired with an alarm. There were doors to each floor, however, each was locked. Erin and I began to pound on each of doors on the floors hoping that someone would hear us. After a few minutes, Erin remembered that I had my computer on me-the one my father had shipped to her since my old computer had broke-and if we could get internet, we would be able to contact someone to help us in someway. That plan was quite short lived though because my dad put a password on the computer that I didn’t know. I did have my phone! Which also turned out to be a bust because we didn’t know what the calling out number would be to call Caiti and tell her to come let us out. So once again, we were stuck. The only option we had would be to get someones attention as they were walking into their room, because setting off that alarm was not an option, unless we wanted to be arrested. Twenty minutes after we got locked in the stairwell, a guy finally walked by and let us out. He didn’t seem to know much English and was very confused by why we were so frantic and in the stairwell.
Dublin did not seem to be treating us too well. Saturday ended up being a bit of a bust but Sunday did make up for it. We did a three hour walking tour and learned about the history of Dublin and saw all of the popular places in the city. We also were able to go to a few pubs and see firsthand live Irish music performed. In the end, Dublin did find a way to make a girl not want to leave. Over all, it was a great trip and a good learning experience. We never really thought about something going wrong, so in a way, I guess it was good that we did go through this to know how to handle stressful situations while traveling. I am excited to see the Eastern coast of Ireland, when we see the Cliffs of Moher, later on in the year.
A Day in the Life of Abby
Common Meal
I live in Cambridge, England. I’m here mainly to travel Europe. However, in between those amazing traveling days, I do actually have to attend classes and lectures, clean the house, and all that mundane stuff. This blog is a little anticlimactic after blogging about London and Scotland and the excitement of the flight over, but most of my days will be spent in this house, and in this room where I’m writing now, and it’s important not to forget the little things that make this trip what it is. I have classes from Monday to Thursday morning (I get the rest of Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday to travel every week) and I have to take Art Appreciation, History, Theology, Topics in English Life and Culture, and Global Health. Classes in a British school are much different from schools in America. They never have any homework, or projects, or exams, they have 2 grades for the semester- one midterm paper, and one finals paper. So, in three of my classes, where I have professors from the local universities around Cambridge,I never have any homework. In my global health class taught by my resident director who is from Valpo, all I have to do is read a chapter before class, and in TELC all I have to do is journal my experiences (As you can imagine, I love that class!) So what do I do with the rest of day when classes are over and we still have hours and hours left of daylight? I’ll tell you. We explore Cambridge, we go shopping, we pick up a crepe from the Crepe Cart in the City Centre, we work out. All these mundane things make up my life here, and in a way the memories of these days are just as significant as seeing Big Ben, or Edinburgh Castle. There is a lot of history here at Cambridge as well, and it’s so fun to just wander without a destination in mind and see what I can discover in Cambridge today. There is always something new to see, whether it be where they discovered Mercury, or where the remains of the castle is. As I mentioned earlier, there is a crepe cart at the City Centre and they make the most amazing crepes I’ve ever had. We have been there so often already they have given each of us a loyalty card and after so many crepes we get one free. Holla! There are crepes like Nutella and marshmallow or apple and cinnamon, or there are crepes like egg and bacon or ham and cheese. Whatever your heart desires! Since I’ve mentioned the City Centre a few times, maybe I should explain it. The house we live in is at the top of the only hill in Cambridge and if you walk down the hill towards the center of town, you stop seeing as many houses and you start seeing cafes, and restaurants, and clothing and shoe stores. And then after you cross the bridge, a little ways past, cars are not allowed in and that is where the City Centre is. It is full of every shop you can imagine, and it has 2 shopping malls. It has all sorts of restaurants and cafes, pubs and clubs, shops and stores. This is where we do our grocery shopping, at Sainsbury’s. But walking back up that hill to our house is not fun. Especially since we have to do it so often because the food here has less preservatives so we have to shop at least once a week or food goes bad. However, since last night we found an Aldi’s and it is much cheaper, we won’t have to walk up that hill anymore, praise the Lord! And at night, we watch an average of 2 movies before we go to bed so we can catch up on some British movies from over here. Those are my days in a nutshell, hope you enjoy reading!
With love,
Abby
The Cricket Clock
It lacks a little color, but hey, it's home.
After so much anticipation and planning, I am finally here. It’s hard to believe that just a week ago I was laying around my house bored out of my mind during winter break. But now I am here in Paris, and I’m going to try my very best to make the most of it!
My 6 1/2 hour flight from New York to Paris on Sunday went smoothly, and we landed at 6:30 a.m. Unfortunately for me, that was seven hours ahead of Chicago time. As a result, I had terrible jet lag on Monday. It did not help that I had to sit and try to understand my foyer director explaining to me the rules of the dorm in fast, fluent French. Needless to say, I took a 3 1/2 hour nap immediately after that rendez-vous.
My foyer is actually very quaint. It’s in the 14th arrondissement near Montparnasse (a skyscraper) and is easy to get to using the metro. Many French girls around my age live here, but girls from other countries stay here too. My roommate, for example, is German and has been living in this foyer for a year already. We speak English to each other since we are both more comfortable speaking English than French. While this may not be useful for practicing my French, she’ll be moving to a single room at the end of the month and I’ll be getting a French roommate. Hopefully by then I’ll be a little more comfortable speaking French to native speakers! (I tried ordering a sandwich yesterday and failed. But that’s what learning is all about, right?)
My study abroad program is through Central Colleg and only has four other girls in it. Already I am thankful for choosing my program for this reason! It’s so nice being relaxed in such a small group and getting to discover Paris without sticking out like a sore thumb in a huge group of Americans. My program director is also wonderfully helpful, and I could never thank her enough for all of her help so far.
While I have not been in Paris for very long, I am so excited to see what the semester has in store for me. Tomorrow I am starting a language class with the Ecole Etoile, and I can’t wait to see my French skills improve. Although I haven’t seen many monuments or museums yet (even the Eiffel Tower!), I know I have four whole months to see what Paris is really like. I think I can safely say this semester is going to be a memorable one. (:
I've been trying to get the hang of this since I arrived!
One of the main reasons I chose to study in Zaragoza was to have the unique opportunity to experience the richness of Spanish culture in the most direct way possible. However, I never in my wildest dreams thought that going to Spain would connect me not just to Spanish culture, but also to the lifestyles and traditions of so many other countries from around the world.
For starters, the class I’m in is made up of (easily) the most diverse group of people I’ve ever had the privilege of being in a classroom with. The nine of us (ten if you count my professor) come from all corners of the globe – Spain, Bosnia, China, Scotland, Gambia, Taiwan, Nigeria, Japan, and the United States. And that’s just within my class… I’ve made friends from other classes at my school from France, Ghana, England, Russia, and Jamaica. Therefore, the discussions that we have had in class about culture have been particularly rich in content. I’ve listened to Bosnian music, have sampled authentic sushi from a Japanese friend who made some especially to pass around at school, and have attempted to learn a few words here and there in French. It’s like an incredible double-shot of culture that couldn’t be more perfect: there’s nothing quite like enjoying a Spanish cup of coffee at a café with a friend from another country, talking about how the culture in Spain is both similar and different to our own lifestyles back home.
The men's handball team from Belarus huddles before their game against Saudi Arabia.
Yet another unique global experience that I’ve cherished immensely happened this past Saturday. My companions from Valpo and I decided to head to the Pabellón Príncipe Felipe (one of the athletic facilities in Zaragoza that was used during the 1992 Barcelona Summer Olympics) to watch the 2013 Men’s World Handball National Championship prelims. We saw three games total: Belarus vs. Saudi Arabia, Poland vs. South Korea, and Serbia vs. Slovenia. First of all, handball is an incredibly brutal sport. These guys have no pads and are ramming into each other and falling on the hard ground constantly – we were amazed by how intense it was! However, I think the best part of the experience was being surrounded by fans from all over the world. There were plenty of Spanish people in the crowd, but along with them were fans from each of the participating countries, decked out from head to toe in their respective colors, chanting and playing instruments and cheering for their home nation. Granted, it wasn’t a multicultural experience where I learned much about the different countries like I’ve been doing at school and through conversations with my friends. However, being (probably) the only Americans in the stadium, surrounded by such a colorful variety of different languages and cultural heritages was both humbling and exciting, and made the experience of watching this sport live so much more enriching.
There are so many little things around the world that don’t change, regardless of cultural norms or language barriers. I think that’s one of the things I’m learning with the most clarity out here, both in my connections to Spain and in my connections to the rest of the world, however tiny they might be. Things like sports, food, family, and a good sense of (culturally respectful!) humor can bring complete strangers together and erase the boundaries that are put up by distance and unfamiliarity. It’s a wonderful surprise to be experiencing so much global culture out here, and is only adding to the appreciation I have each day for the culture and knowledge that I’m acquiring in Spain.
It’s been over a week into my journey in Germany, and so much has happened! But of course I’ll start out with the beginning. When we were flying to Stuttgart from Copenhagen and we broke through the clouds, I was able to take my first look at Germany. It was so beautiful! It was after sundown and all the neighborhoods were lit up with lights, scattered across the Swabian Alb. I hadn’t fully felt the impact of my study abroad until that moment. I wish I had taken a picture so that I could post it here for you all to see!
The beautiful view from my room! It's hard to tell in this picture, but I do have a nice view of the moutains!
After that it was a long night. Prof. Malchow and Zach Nelson picked us all up at the airport, which thankfully was a smooth transition. Our suitcases started to unload onto the conveyor belt as soon as we arrived to the baggage claim area. During our bus ride to Reutlingen, I couldn’t help notice how similar it was to home. I’m originally from Knoxville, Tennessee, which is in a valley of the Appalachian Mountains. The old Appalachian Mountain range are almost the same as the low Alps here in Baden-Württemberg. So it was strange to feel like I was still at home (only the road signs were different).
Once we got settled I was able to organize and decorate my room! Kind of… I was so tired from my 24 hour long day that I gave up on putting stuff away… I figured I could just finish is later, but that later for me turned out to be days later.
My first day in Germany wasn’t as fun as my peers had. Prof. Malchow took us on a tour around Reutlingen, to show us Stadtmitte (literally the middle of town) in Reutlingen. The goal was not only get us use to town but to keep us busy to help with our jet lag. So I expected that I wasn’t going to feel good around the afternoon, but not like I did.
I’m not sure how I got sick. However it started with my throat feeling a bit sore in the morning and slowly turned into a fever by lunch time. We were scheduled to have an official tour around noon, but an hour before then I knew I wasn’t going to make it. So I was able to ask Prof. Malchow to get me on a bus back home. And thus started my first two/three days of Germany… in my room. Sick. Feverish. Sleeping and watching magpies play outside my window. (I’ll have you all know, I only cried once because of it!)
Luckily, my fever went down in about two days! And I had enough ibuprofen to attend our tour around the neighboring town of Tübingen! It was very pretty there, despite gray weather. I was just so happy to get out of the room (which I had made little to no progress on organizing/cleaning, opps)!
I was also able to finally finish putting away my stuff! Here's the final form of my room. (it reminds me a lot of valpo dorms...)
Even then, I still wasn’t better, so during our first day of classes, Dr. Jennings helped me find the local doctor and set up a walk-in appointment for me. It was really nerve racking… but I learned a lot of interesting stuff about German doctors and doctor offices. The first thing I noticed when I walked into the waiting room was that the other people in the room said “good morning” to me. Which caught me off guard and I thought maybe they weren’t talking to me at first. So I awkwardly just smiled at them instead. Dr. Jennings told me later that it’s normal to acknowledge people when they enter or leave a room in Germany. The other thing that I’ve learned is that German doctors rarely prescribe medicines unless absolutely necessary and are still big on herbal remedies. Prof. Malchow explained this to me before I went, so I made sure that even if I wasn’t diagnosed with any sort of illness, I would still ask if he would recommend something for my sore throat! I was able to get a prescription for a cheap pain-killer and then he told me that I could drink (or gargle… I can’t remember) some sage tea. Though I hate tea, I stuck with the painkiller (and explains why I don’t remember what I was suppose to do with the tea).
I really didn’t think I would have to go to the doctor so soon into my stay here! Despite the fact that I did miss out on some orientation, I was able to experience some things my peers haven’t. I now know how to go to the doctor’s office and buy medicine at the Apotheke (Pharmacy)! And don’t feel too bad for me though, I’m feeling a lot better now and I was recently able to go on a fun trip to Triberg with all of my peers. So while I had a tough beginning, I’ve been able to adjust well and get back into the flow of my new life in Germany!
Every Tuesday and Saturday in the morning there is a fresh market in the ‘Stadtmitte,’ which is the German word for the middle of the city. In the US these are not very common in the winter, or even 
in the summer. I mean, we have our farmer’s markets but the market here seems to have a lot of things that you would not find at a farmer’s market. I saw a fruit that was apparently called a lychee (pronounced leechy). It’s a fruit that has a harder shell on the outside. This wasn’t the only strange thing about the market, though. There were vendors selling meats and cheeses. I don’t know about the rest of America, but when I think market, I don’t automatically think of cheese and meat. There were also a lot of vendors selling bread. Let me tell you. Germany is one giant country made up of bread! Bread is a staple part of any meal here. It almost seems
as though they need the bread here in order to survive. It’s a way of life, I guess. Anyways, the location of the market isn’t too shaby. Reutlingen is an old town, as are most towns in Germany, and so the location of the market is in an old world feeling place. Everyone here seems so nice, from the vendors to the shoppers. I haven’t even said the most mind boggling thing yet, at least it’s mind boggling to me. Germany’s citizens are very environmentally concious about everything. Everyone tries to recycle every little thing they can. Well, when everyone goes shopping, especially at the market, they bring their own bags. I’m pretty sure, though I am assuming and you know what that means, that every person in Germany owns at least two to three canvas bags to do their grocery shopping. The best thing about the market, I mean besides all the fresh food, is the one vendor off to the side selling lunch. We went to the market for 
one of our first class trips and while at the market we were getting hungry, so some of us went to this vendor to get something to eat. This next part is a little embarassing to admit, at least on my part, but I’ll tell it anyway. I had ordered a bratwurst in a bun. The ketchup and mustard were in the oddest looking containers I had ever seen. My friend must have seen how confused I was, that she explained to me that I needed to pretend I was milking a cow. The face I made had a couple people around me start giggling. That was possibly the coolest way to put mustard on a bratwurst. So after I finished my lunch, I quickly snapped a picture from afar! The market was just such a good place to visit. It seemed a little peaceful at the time, because we went when the snow was falling and the temperature was bearable. All in all, it was a successful outing in the Stadtmitte!!!
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