update 1

Today is a holiday, and I sit in front of Liebervoll across from the church, from whence issue crowds, the little girls all in frilly white dresses. Many of the older men are dressed in military uniforms, with wonderfully ridiculous hats that have plumes. Sadly, I am without my camera. Now I hear drums, and hope for a procession. Because some of the uniforms are red. The manager/owner (?) and I have been making faces and laughing at the drums. Who knows, we shrug at each other, and I feel part of the town. I think, though, that they do not come this way.
I believe that it is the Day of German Reunification. Some of the uniforms are green, with green and white plumes, others red and white. It's all totally German (Prussian?) and very entraining. How very disappointing: "June 15, 2006 Trinitas, Fronleichnam, Corpus Christi: 50 days after Easter.'' (W just translated this for me as "Happy Corpse Day''). Apparently just an excuse to wear funky hats.

It's been an interesting week. I've seen sheep, and frolicking cows, and a disturbingly anatomically correct beast statue, and the city Markt. I gave a spectacular talk, and was insulted. I bought delightful cheese, and instituted an afternoon group coffee discussion (I seem to do this everywhere). I've had a couple great runs, and hope for many more. I've discovered that what one forgets about riding a bike is not how, but the discomfort of doing so all the time. This morning I found the old city gate. And I've ridden home in the rain and dark through the forest without a light -- and I was right, it is frightening; one imagines faery tale monsters in every shadow.

I've also sat outside at night with many Germans watching the World Cup projected on a screen, drinking Kolsch. Kolsch is the local beer, and they drink it at almost any time of the day. When I sat down at 11 today, already people were drinking it -- and almost uniformly the Kolsch. One must be very careful in ordering beer, and I can order Pils only in Cologne, considered a world away, almost ausland (though it is only 45 minutes by car). I think that to order something else is forgiven only in the tourist. I was not insulted for ordering Weisebier, perhaps because I ordered it without specifying a region, and to drink the white beers is also respected. Since then, however, I order Kolsch, and they delight in fixing my pronunciation.

The German soccer team played last night (the game I watched was Brazil, the other favorite) -- I need to check and see who won. There's a decidedly subdued feeling this morning, which could be just due to the church holiday, or could be much worse -- they might have lost at soccer (fussball!). Alternatively, they might have won and all be hungover. On the square this morning were mostly old men with little dogs (almost every family has one here). Oh the relief, they defeated Poland 1:0. So it's either church or hangover -- or, more probably, both.

For the past week, it has been very sunny and very hot. In fact, it's been perfect summer weather, and a lovely way to meet a new place. Everyone has been outside, and the cafes -- especially the ice cream parlor -- have been full. They all have seating outside, and people always choose it first; there is little air conditioning here. The weather today is disappointing; overcast and cool. Yesterday was at least sunny. But still there are people sitting outside, not just me. I think it's starting later because man people went to church. This is a country without separation of church and state, and it shows in many areas. They do, of course, have a church tax of 4%. They also have many holidays related to saints, and it is often assumed that one is a member of a church (usually Catholic, interestingly, Luther not withstanding).

The coffee here is almost uniformly excellent, thick and strong (I have not found decaf outside of our office at the FZ), and it is easy to drink too much of it. I am tragically void of chocolate, which I am unsure how happened. Perhaps because I have such good coffee that I almost didn't notice. I am slowly exploring the available baked goods. I have yet to find the perfect bakery; I have found several chain-types that make reasonable pastries, but I want the little secret shop owned by a round little German (with, I am certain, a great mustache) that makes the most wonderful pastries and bread in town.

I am told that the sport for which Juelich is known is, delightfully, table tennis. Yes, the first Chinese in town were not affiliated with the Forschungszentrum, but with ping pong. The absurdity is wonderful, as with many things here. I have seem several quite spectacular mustaches, both the narrow waxed ones, and ones that look like horns on the hood of a Texas Cadillac. I have decided that they do these things just to delight me. I made my office mate, J, go with me to pick my bike up from the FZ bicycle repair man in part because I wanted him to see the man's wonderful mustache, puffy over his lip and curling to waxed points on the side.
Tragically, he did not fix my farrahdlicht (bicycle light) correctly, hence the ride through the forest in the dark, but I am trying to see this instead as an opportunity to see the amazing mustache again. It's the little things.

I practice my German every day. Everyone is very patient and kind, offering encouragement and praise for even the most mundane of phrases. Perhaps half of the people do speak English, after a fashion. I have become brave enough to ask if they do, and if so, I will usually switch. If not, we muddle through carefully, and they tell me how to pronounce things. The servers at Liebervoll (uniformly attractive, interestingly, with great glasses!) are used to me now, and help me to practice. Most days I allocate an hour or two to study, and then try to use some of the words I learn. I carry my little flash cards with me, and when I have time I study them. The group finds this entertaining, but as the day of the storm two of my randomly chosen words were "donnern", to thunder, and "das Wetter/das Gewitter", weather/thunderstorm, they no longer mock me quite as much.

The trip to Aachen with the conference participants was wonderful. We had a tour of the cathedral, the original part (still standing) of which was erected by Charlemagne. I did not realize that Aachen was Charlemagne's seat, and his presence is everywhere felt. The city hall ("Rathaus" -- I love German!!!) is in fact still in the "King's Building", although only part of it still stands. It was on the walking tour of the city that we saw the beast statue, which U pronounced "embarrassing" and W took pictures of (I will send a copy when I get one; it was very funny). There were also amazing shops -- one of olive oil and vinegar, which could be very dangerous, and another with the most wonderful espresso machines (one has spikes!), and yet another with shoes. I think perhaps I will go there tomorrow, or on Saturday. While I find the European approach to working time entirely alien, they have absolutely the right idea on cafes (and cheese!). There are many of them, most have outside seating, and one moves between them from about 5 in the afternoon on, having little bits at several. After the tour of the cathedral (``Dom''), we stopped at the gelato place on the main square (still centered around the cathedral) and had cones with wonderful little scoops of Italian Ise.

As we knew, there is almost no ice here. I find this hard, as, for the past week, it has been very hot, and I want nothing so much as an iced coffee. However, I have done as the Germans do and had ice cream instead. There is also only mineral water, which I despise. In the tourist restaurant where the dinner for the conference was, I asked for "Stillischewasser" (still, or silent, water), and was given pitcher of tap water with what must have been all the ice they could find. I had clearly marked myself as American, and we all laughed very hard at this. I drink a lot of tap water, and am very glad that I brought my water bottle with me.

The sheep and cows are on my ride back to the apartment in Stetternich from Juelich. Along the main highway is a bike path, and on the other side of that are some paddocks which also enclose a loosely-planted orchard (I think apple). Among them are lovely black and white cows, clearly happy. Last week, coming home from the conference, we saw the cows frolicking -- literally bounding about in their paddock. It was an amazing manifestation of joy, the younger cows bouncing in the air, a thing I did not even know that cows could do. Cavorting! For the past few days, I have not seen the cows, so I fear they have been moved for the summer.

Once I get into Stetternich proper -- if it can really be described that way, a little village of one main street and a few side streets -- there is a field bounded by a wooden fence. It has sheep, which are, in fact, as cute as they are usually represented. There are even several black ones! Black sheep -- how can I be so lucky? They are always either industriously eating the grass or sleeping as though they fell over, their little legs tucked up under, and their necks stretched out so that their chins can rest comfortably. Watching them sleep is rather like looking at Emma, or perhaps gold fish. There are also apparently many ponds, populated by what must be overwhelming numbers of frogs. At night they sing, making fabulous warbling sounds that fill the air without disturbing it. Sometimes they sound almost human, and it is easy to understand the old faery tales.

(The radio inside is play Simon and Garfunkel -- Mrs. Robinson. It makes me smile)