La Copa Mundial

 

In a pub in Clifden, Ireland. World Cup Final 2018

Do you watch the World Cup?

Despite having grown up in a soccer crazy country - where soccer is called Fußball, literally football, like in most countries outside the US - I'm a less than moderate fan. If I watch football (let me keep that world-wide term for this world-wide game), it's usually the women's teams. But I used to watch the World Cup, of course rooting for the German team.

The World Cup has always been a big thing in Europe. While traveling the European countries the enthusiasm for the sport was on display as well as the pride for the national team. It happenend that we were in Europe during the World Cup 2014 and 2018.

In 2014, we visited Scotland, England, Paris, Germany and Amsterdam. England was not doing well in the game, so there was some encouragement given by a bakery in York, England.

At that time, France had won the World Cup once, in 1998. I remember that day very well, because the final fell on the date of Kaefer's christening. My two godmothers, both in their seventies at that time, became restless toward the evening, when the game would start at 8:00 pm. The entire "christening group" (mainly relatives) ended up watching the game and we had a lot of fun (and I got to see a completely new and surprising side of my two aunts). 

So of course France was in World Cup mood in 2014 as well. You could buy cheap sunglasses in the colors of the nations participating in the games.

Of course Kaefer - who has always been a Fußballfan and used to play it as well - had to try on the German one.

Growing up in Germany, you would see the German flag at official buildings, but very seldom anywhere else. We just didn't fly the flag and mostly stayed away from any kind of "national or patriotic display". Our awful recent history prevented us from doing that. However, in 2014 for the World Cup we experienced a very different picture.

The stores were full with cheap items - the German team was doing well in the games and won the World Cup that year.

Care for some fake finger nails and eye lashes?

The Netherlands is quite football crazy as well. It was very visible all over Amsterdam.

Watching the games in pubs is a favorite passtime.

In 2018 we traveled Turkey and Ireland. Germany was not doing well in the games, and in Istanbul we were approached by Turkish people who had rooted for the German game and now expressed their disappointment and sympathy to us (you just have to love the Turkish peolpe). In Ireland we watched two games in a pub, including the final game (pictured on top) between Croatia and France. Watching it with so many other people - strangers all of them - is a lot of fun. You cheer and commiserate together. We were rooting for the Croatian team and I was surprised that almost all of the people in the pub were doing the same. Oh, what fun we had even though our team lost.

But this year? Completely different.

I'm not interested. I'm disgusted by FIFA, the exorbitant high ticket prices, the way football fans from outside the US are "milked" for every little bit (if they were lucky enough to get into the country). It was refreshing to see the German fans march through Toronto before the game against Ivory Coast (thank you Canada). I'm completely turned off by all the advertising the American people get to see on TV during the shortest "hydration breaks". And I wonder why the heck the Cup is taking place in the US when the country isn't even soccer crazy? Is it only because it can make a lot of money with it?

Then I read an article by a columnist in our local paper, who has been similarly turned off like me. He instead watches the Copa Mundial on Telemundo. So I thought "why not?" and checked into the game Colombia vs. DR Congo on Telemundo. Oh my word! While I did understand maybe 10% of what the sports reporter said - well, excitingly shouted - and thoroughly enjoyed his way of exageratingly rolling his R's, I felt the enthusiasm of the fans for the game. The game took place in Guadalajara in México, another fútbol crazy country. It was a blast! ¡bravo!

I'm still rooting for the German team, no matter how well or badly they're doing. I love my native fußballverrücktes country. And if I have time, I'll watch a game or two on Telemundo. En serio!

Fathers and Daughters

 

Sunday is Father's Day in the US and for Nicole's Friday Face Off I want to talk about two fathers that I know fairly well.

One is my father, my Vati. He was a vet - first as a country vet in Lower Saxony where he had his own practice, later as a vet with the county in Northrhine-Westphalia - no more his own practice, but with a wide range of responsibilities. I'm pretty sure I have my love for animals from him.

In Switzerland, 1958

He was not an easy man. I think there was always an invisible burden about him that he carried after the end of World War II. He had lost almost all of his class mates in the war, he wasn't able to return to his home from where his parents and younger sister had to flee at the end of March 1945 and it took him more than a year to finally find his family again after he came back from captivity as a prisoner of war. He never seemed to lose his sense of not belonging.

My dad was 21 years old when the war ended. Like all his classmates he was immediately drafted into the Wehrmacht after he graduated from high school. He was with the Navy and did his training on a submarine. He was a POW for a year and after that traveled around many areas of Germany, often in open freight wagons, searching for his parents and sister. The stories he told me about that time are wild - the country was in shambles, the Black Market ruled (my dad had nothing to trade) and the only place that offered help regarding finding family and missing persons was the Red Cross that, because of the difficult times and the high demand, worked slowly. Eventually, after a lot of "wrong" turns, he found his parents and soon after he started to study veterinary medicine at the University of Gießen.

In 1954 he met my mother in a tiny village in Lower Saxony where she had lived as a refugee since 1945. He had the opportunity to work in a veterinary practice (the same one he later took over) there. They got married in 1955 in Lüneburg, a year later my brother came along and another four years later I completed the family. At that time my oldest sister from my mother's first marriage was already 17 years old.

There aren't many photos of my dad and myself. He was the photographer of the family; my mother was hopeless with the camera. I suspect that the few photos of my dad and myself were taken by my mom's younger sister, my godmother.

My relationship with my dad wasn't free of tension. We could drive each other up the wall. But he was also the one who always believed in me and encouraged me. He had confidence in me and supported me. He was extremely proud when I got my master's degree in both Chinese Studies and English Literature (beside my dad, I was the only one in our family who went to university). He always thought that I could do "big things" (what ever that was supposed to be) and in that he differed greatly from my mom.

I mentioned that he was the only photographer in the family. Well, that eventually changed. I was very curious about his camera and eager to try it out. One day he let me take a photo with his precious camera for the first time. I have been hooked ever since. This was my very first photo, taken on a hike in Austria in 1968.

My sister's husband and their three children never accepted my dad and more or less rejected him. It must have been very hurtful to him. He was so incredibly happy when Kaefer came along (my brother doesn't have any kids) and he spoiled her in every way possible.

He died at the age of 89. In the weeks and months before he died we often talked on the phone, and it was then that he told me a lot about his youth. I remember that I always had paper and pencil ready when we talked and I wrote everything down. 

And this little girl, Kaefer, made another man a father. A wonderful father.

The Geek and I had met in 1996 at Hewlett Packard in Böblingen, Germany, where we both worked - in two different departments, but on the same floor in the same division. We eventually became one of the many HP marriages and in 1998 Kaefer was born. She turned our life upside down, but in a very good and joyful way. We were a very happy family, and I believe we still are.

The Geek has been an amazing dad from day 1. Actually I should say from day 0, since we went through a very difficult pregnancy with a 9-week stay in the hospital for me. He really was my rock back then.

I was very lucky that I could stay home with Kaefer - I was 38 when she was born and had accomplished a few things in my life. This was a new chapter and I fully embraced it as a new mom. When the Geek came home in the evening, he played with her, he changed her diapers and on Sundays he would bathe her. Those were very special times for both of them. They "rode horses" together - one of my favorite photos.

And she was safe on his arm.

This reminds me of my dad and myself:

Three years later, in April 2001, our California adventure began.  The Geek had a lot of work, but he still had time for Kaefer. He always has had time for her. 

Letting the little princess ride on his back.

They both love to ice skate and do "daring" things like jumping from a plane. They enjoy playing competitive games together and share their love for science.

We visited Yosemite so many times. We took her to nature whenever we could. We hiked and when she got tired, the Geek would carry her. He was her rock as much as he has been mine.

We traveled the States, seeking nature over and over again. This is the girl whose horrible parents didn't take her to Disneyland, not even once (while all her friends did go). Instead, she developed a deep love and respect for everything nature. She believes in science - we all do.

My all-time favorite photo, Valley of Fire, Nevada, Thanksgiving 2013

And suddenly she was gone - first to college at UC Davis, then to Germany where she still lives. The bond between the two is still very strong and I am so grateful for that.

I love them both so much (and apologize for the long post).

Beaded Earrings

 

For Nicole's Sunday in the Art Room I want to show you the exquisite beadwork of my friend Susan. 

Susan and I "met" when we were both writing for Vision and Verb in the 2010s. In 2015, when we did a college trip with Kaefer to look at the University of Boulder and the School of Mines, we stopped for a Christmas Day community breakfast in Manitou Springs, CO, where we finally met in person. It turned into a wonderful morning; we - Susan and her husband Larry, the Geek, Kaefer and I - got along from the very start, there were good conversations and lots of laughter was involved.

We stayed in touch after the end of Vision and Verb. Susan is a wizard in beadwork (and much more), and when she recently posted a picture of her "Flame" earrings on Instagram I asked her if I can buy a pair. She then came up with the idea of a trade - a handful of my photo cards for a pair of earrings. Deal. 

The earrings arrived yesterday (Saturday) in the beautiful handmade little pouch you can see in the top photo. The quote by John Muir "Going to the mountains is going home" really speaks to me. She also included the bird feather.

The earrings are stunning.

She let me choose from two lengths and I opted for the longer ones. I am so glad I did!

You can see more of Susan's beadwork and her other art (stitiching, leather, clay) on her Instagram .

A Much Needed Little Outing

 

Before getting Nature Deficit Disorder because of my stupid leg, last Tuesday I decided to go and sit by a lake - not "my" lake, but a smaller lake nearby. Yes, I still can't walk for very long (but the good news is that I'll start PT next week), but I knew that at this lake the benches aren't too far away from the parking lot. I chose a bench in the shade and when I looked up I saw myself sitting across from this little guy, a beautiful Black-crowned Night Heron.

A moment later this large family of Canada Geese (with many well behaved adolescents) was swimming by.

Suddenly a Domestic Goose turned up right beside me. I have huge respect of Domestic Geese, but to my relief this one wasn't interested in me at all.

There were two ducks standing on the rocks below the surface of the water and busily preening. I'm not sure what they are - the white one might be a White Muscovy Duck, but I couldn't find anything about the brownish-black and white one to the left. Some suggestions said Magpie Duck, but the images I saw looked different. Maybe David can solve this puzzle.

The Black-crowned Night Heron was still sitting there. Look at the beautiful reflection in the water.

Another puzzle came swimming by - maybe a Domestic Mascovy Duck?

Some of the Canada Geese came closer to the shore while my little feathered friend was preening himself.

But then they decided they wanted to go to the small island on the other side.

Someone was standing guard on a rock in front of that island.

I think this California Ground Squirrel has almost a repraochful expression, don't you agree?

It was getting hot, the heron had taken off by then, so it was time for me to head home as well.

The day before, I had a different animal encounter, right at our front door. I first saw only this:

It made me stop and go very slowly and quietly to the kitchen door from where I could see the Red Fox, but she couldn't see me. It was such a magic moment!

And if you need a human face for Nicole's Friday Face Off, here is mine, right after my lovely neighbor cut my hair again last week. Unfortunately, my hair grows quickly and since I dislike hair on the nape of my neck, especially when it is sweaty and wet, I need more frequent hair cuts. How was I able to tolerate long hair all those years? (bottom photo, taken in 2018)