Autumn in Leipzig

I'm glad I spent some time in the park on the last summery day about a month ago (and check out the bike this family has):




The autumn is beautiful, but I miss the warm temperatures.































Anyone care to join me for a bundled-up walk through the beauty of Leipzig?

Leipzig Opera

The day after movie day, Mike agreed to go to the opera with me. I'd never been and heard that The Barber of Seville was playing. Since I'd actually heard of it, I knew it had to be famous for a reason.

The building itself was very sparkly and tickets for students are cheap. Some people don't take the best pictures, but when you need someone to go with you, you can't be choosy:
























I loved the opera. I loved the live orchestra and the amazing singing and the parts I recognized. And even the weird insect interpretation was interesting.

But you know what? That one part of the opera I thought I knew was non-existent. I finally realized I heard it on Little Rascals, where Alfalfa is warming up his vocalizer and he sings, "I'm the barber of Seville." You know the part? It starts at 6:10 (and is it just me, or does Ms. Crabtree look like a transvestite and have a fake voice?):




Why? Did I just miss that part? Here's one of the songs from the opera:




Some day when I have a more regular job, I'm going to get season tickets! What other operas should I see (I guess I already have a huge list from John, but I'm open to more ideas)?

Movie Day

When I told Mike that my parents loved the movie Up, being the movie buff that he is, he insisted we go see it. He knows that I hate going to see movies because I never know if there are bad parts and I think they are way too expensive, but with a suggestion from my parents about a children's movie, we couldn't go wrong. And we both loved it!













The marriage between the two characters at the start is so sweet, and there are some funny lines, like when the dog says, "Ich habe mich unter der Veranda versteckt, weil ich dich so lieb hab" (no idea what he says in English, sorry!). Or I laughed out loud when the old man smashes the frog that sounds like his alarm clock.

We both loved our 3D glasses so much that we took them with us and wore them in the city and in the tram, etc. I think I'm going to keep wearing them. They make me feel artsy. Do you like my new look?

As we were leaving the theater, Mike saw people setting up some kind of promotion (he loves that stuff) and found out we could see a movie later for nine cents. We ended up looking like this:
















But we got into a movie (which we left early because it was horrible), received free tins of sweets, mugs, and phone cards. Sounds like a good deal to me.

O Divine Redeemer

O Divine Redeemer. I love that song. And this Spanish version I found in YouTube is lovely:

September's October's Links to Love

Well, this was supposed to be for September, but I forgot to post it before the month was over. So, welcome to October's list of links to love.

Literary:

Modern versions of famous books' titles.

Depression and writing.

Being a writer and a parent.

Bookshelves.

NPR's interview with Maurice Sendak about Where the Wild Things Are.

Beautiful poems for a wedding.

Learn about yourself by writing a story about a picture here.


Mormon:

The Office theme song played by famous Mormon artists.

Predicting the next prophet. (I would guess Bednar, Uchtdorf, Nelson, and Scott.)

Fob Bible.

I trust the Lord will help me, but if not . . .

My Son the Mormon (article by a mom of a son who was baptized).


Music:

Crazy Alice in Wonderland mix (I keep trying to figure out what she's saying):




These are the musicians at the Songwriters concert I went to two weeks ago:

Mowat (from Chile)

My Sister Grenadine

Noiserv

Kitty Solaris

Here is Max Mutzke's "Weg von Hier" (thanks, Francy):




Grocery store musical improv. You've gotta marvel at the guts of those people, especially the guy who starts the singing:




Silent Hallelujah chorus.


Technology:

Piano stairs--this makes me think of how when I was little, I sang sounds as I walked across the white lines at crosswalks. More of the fun theory can be found here.



Virtual autopsy.

Finland and broadband internet!

Barnes and Nobles' version of the Kindle, the Nook, allows users to share books! Now I just need to find a rich friend who buys every book possible . . .


Miscellaneous:

A friend of mine has opened a new etsy craft store.

Women would sacrifice anything but chocolate for blogging!

In parenthood, sometimes a blog is born.

Gemsweater.com. Exactly what its name says and good for some chuckles. (Thanks, Melissa.)

Yogurt love.

Michelle Obama's family heritage.

Three situations that will tell you a lot about people.

Would you live now like it was the 1930s?

Ellis Island Tour.

I guess I'm funemployed.

This makes me miss summer:



If I had enough money, I would open an offshore account.

My cute nephew and niece trying on their Halloween costumes:

Es ist Deutschland hier

This German politician refused to answer a question in English and is getting a lot of criticism for it. I don't think it's so much that he didn't answer in English as the way he reacted--he turns exasperatedly to the side when the man asking the question didn't understand and even answers the question rudely. If you're a politician, don't you want to win over the public instead of driving them away? Interestingly enough, we criticize politicians for just being crowd-pleasers, but when they don't please, they get criticized as well. Poor guys. But anyway, he is the foreign minister, and seeing as how English is now the international language and has been for quite a while now, he needs to jump on the bandwagon . . . or does he? Is English an expectation of America or of the world?



Here's the English translation for those who don't speak German (I don't think it's the best translation, and you miss out on his rude exasperated sigh, but oh well). And here's proof that he speaks and understands English okay.

Let Me Give You a Tour of My Beloved City, Leipzig

I finally wrote all about the sights I would suggest to anyone visiting Leipzig! It's today's guest post at Scribbit.

Check it out!

Kindle

Last weekend, for the first time, I held a Kindle in my hands (an electronic thing that you can read books on). Within moments, the wish to have one welled up within me. I could see what people meant when they talked about the paper-like screen designed not to tire your eyes the way a computer does. I liked its not-so-shabby reading function, the simplicity of turning the page, the way you can prop up the device when your arms get tired, and its light weight. And I liked to read about its decreased price and its global wireless capabilities.

And the more I thought about it and $259 dollars, I thought of how no matter how rich I become, I will always have a weak spot for libraries, free books, and a pile of books to be read. The Kindle doesn't satisfy those desires. And I can see myself fearing to take the Kindle on trips since it might get broken or stolen.

So, for now, I will settle stick with the long tradition of paper books.

Leipzig's Peaceful Revolution (Peaceful in Hindsight)

I think one of the coolest things about Leipzig is that in the ten years preceding the fall of the wall, there were weekly peace prayers held in a 900-year-old church in the center of town. These prayers became more and more famous and well-attended until the biggest gathering was held on the 9th of October, 1989, with around 100,000 people showing up to peacefully walk through the streets of Leipzig. The International Spiegel wrote about it recently here (they can explain it much better than I).

Last Friday, I was planning on going on a trip (yes, right after Poland), but I decided I had to be in Leipzig for the twenty-year celebration. Jenny, Seppl (who had been at the original protest as a child with his mom), Holger, Steffi, and I went together. It was cool to see so many people there. The streets were closed off, people carried candles, old pictures and film clips were displayed on buildings, loud speakers played announcements from twenty years ago . . . all very interesting. We happened upon an orchestra and a choir that were practicing some pretty hefty pieces together, as well as some men painting some of that famous Leipzig art on the side of a building (see the picture). When Steffi and Holger arrived, we walked around the ring. There were papers with names of Stasi spies on them spurted out into the streets that also showed what normal job they had or pretended to have. My paper said "IMS Lothar Alexander, Fertigungskontrolleur"--"IMS" stood for "Inoffizieller Mitarbeiter Sicherheit."

I was especially touched by a family I saw. A grandmother stood on the right side of her grandson while her husband leaned down, pointing upwards, and explained some piece of history to him. The look on the child's face wasn't boredom or lack of understanding, but interest and fascination.

That's how I feel about what happened in Germany twenty years ago. The fact that Leipzig and surrounding areas got together despite the danger found in opposing the government and despite differing points of view shows that it is possible to be of one heart and one mind and to accomplish things that seem impossible. I'm assured that there are many more miracles to be witnessed in this world.

You can see the rest of my photos here.

Joshua Radin

Though I've been a fan of Joshua Radin for several years, I've never been to one of his concerts. So when I got the email saying he was to perform in Berlin tomorrow, I got really excited and tried to think of who would like to go with me. The more I thought about it though, the more I realized that I go to non-classical concerts mainly to be able to say I've been there, and that the lameness of being in a crowd that is likely drunk or high does not make up for the great music. Most of the time, you're not even close to the performer anyway, so it's just like squinting at a screen and hearing music through speakers, both of which I could do at home. For free.

So, tomorrow, I will not be going to see Joshua Radin. I may just buy his CD on iTunes that I don't have instead and listen to it. And be happy.

Poland in 2 Days

I decided I finally needed to get over to that neighboring country, Poland. (And before I go any farther with this thought, I have to tell you, you need to visit Kraków at least once in your life, preferably with a loved one; it's a charming city.)





As I sat in a town square in Kraków last Wednesday night, I made a list of all the things I needed to include in my blog about Poland: how I got to Berlin with some guys who talked about writing journals, how the bus driver didn't charge me since it was late, how Alyssa was kind enough to let me stay there even though I had no time to get to know her, how the train the next morning took forever and how the other people in my section of the train included a nice woman who offered me cookies in broken German, a man who looked at his iPhone the entire time, and a girl who had techno music blaring from her corner, and how I read a good part of Dracula.

I thought of how Karolina, a girl who is a friend of Seppl and who I had met at his wedding last year, had been nice enough to pick me up at the train station and arrange a place for me to sleep that night. She showed me around Warszawa, which included me trying some pierogi and some of that cabbage-wrapped meat that takes forever to cook, going to the Chopin memorial in the park (and for a few minutes of random sunshine), walking through the old city, and seeing the city from the top of the Palace of Culture and Science, which has a nifty, hands-on fitness exhibition. We talked about her having been Catholic and how she had to have a certificate of her church attendance for school (Poland and Catholicism are good buddies). She worried about me rushing through Poland, but I assured her that was my travel style anyway.

I decided that it would be best if I went to Łódź (pronounced like "Whoa-dzh") that night, and she was nice enough to let me stay with her. The ticket guy made me pay more because apparently student tickets are only for Polish students. Łódź had a long, wide, charming street with a lot of memorials to famous Poles. We took a bicycle rickshaw and ate at a fabulous Mexican Restaurant that had cowboys and cowgirls for waiters and waitresses. While I ate my delicious chicken quesadilla, we talked about the Polish language. Wow. As a consonant-rich language, it is tough. None of the words, even after I knew how the sounds are, look like how I would say them. Especially "thank you." It sounds like "jaynkweeuh" to me, but it's spelled like this: dziękuję. I thought this word was a good example (just for you, Amy Lawson, just don't ask me how to pronounce it): wzdychać (to sigh).

When I ordered cheesecake in Polish with Karolina's help ("sernik, proscha"), Zorro came out with a mask and a cape and exciting music and brought it to the table with flourish. Here's the video (sorry it's dark):

We also saw an old factory that had been converted to a shopping center before we walked to her apartment.

The next day, I finished Dracula. I felt kind of bad that I had convinced Karolina to take me to Auschwitz, or Oświęcim, but it seemed the best plan. Her sister's car was broken down, but she was able to get her dad's car. First, we saw where the Jews from Łódź were packed into trains close to the old Ghetto. We went to Birkenau, which had mostly been destroyed when the war ended. The ruins of the gas chambers are still there. Auschwitz looked lovely, if you didn't know what had occurred there. The pictures of those who had been starved were unbelievable. One woman went from 75 kg to 25. The most haunting were the prisoner pictures lining the walls. There was no hope in their eyes. All the belongings that had been taken away from prisoners were piled up according to category--brushes, shoes, etc. There was even a whole room full of prisoner hair. You'd also be surprised to see how many prosthetic limbs were there when people with such limbs are such a minority. We also saw the gas chambers there and Karolina gasped because she hadn't seen them before, though she'd been to Auschwitz three times already. Then she took me to the train station, helped me buy a ticket to Kraków and back to Warszawa, and said goodbye.

When I got to Kraków, I bought a ticket from Warszawa to Berlin and then headed to see the castle. I walked around it twice before I found the entrance and heard from the soldiers that it was already closed. Oh man. I did get some nice pictures of the river and I enjoyed the charming city. Then I was the first to arrive at a concert at a church which used up my dinner money (you've gotta hear Chopin in Poland, I decided), so I sat in the very front left, where I could see the hands at the piano. A very serious, straight-postured man (Ireneusz Boczek) played Chopin, and then a chamber orchestra played some Chopin and Mozart and Strauss and Vivaldi.

So, sitting in Kraków's square feeling dreamy, I completed my list of things to blog about and congratulated myself on hardly having spent any money on the trip (I only exchanged one fifty-Euro bill). Then I did some people watching and saw some other loners sitting on the same wall.

The last thirty minutes before my train was to leave, several factors joined together to get me in a pickle. 1. Another loner came and talked to me and I told him he could walk the direction of the station with me. 2. I stopped to look at a photo exhibit in the street. 3. The man driving me from Berlin to Leipzig called to figure out details and would not quit talking. 4. I was too nice to run away from the Italian before saying goodbye to the talkative German. 4. I misjudged the direction of the street and ended up finding out from a local that the train station was 10 minutes to the right (my orientation is usually pretty good, so I was not happy about that). 5. I had six minutes left and haven't run since December. Nevertheless, I booked it for the full six minutes so that I thought I was going to give out right there on the dark street of Kraków. The entire time I was praying, but as soon as I got to the platform, I saw the train pulling away at the other end.

I couldn't believe it! It was the last train to Warszawa (and my hotel for the night) and it would have been perfect timing for my train to Berlin the next morning so that I could visit the Jewish Museum in Berlin. I was so exhausted and frustrated, I sat down and just gasped for air and cried a bit, feeling my muscles seizing up from disuse. Of course that had to happen right after I'd thought how great it was that I'd spent so little money on the trip! And now the charming city of Kraków would always be connected with the missing of a late-night train in my mind. There was no use worrying, though, I recognized, because it was water under the bridge (or I guess I could say "a train out of the station"). I'd just have to swallow and spend the extra money to get back home.

After several frustrating situations at the ticket window (the international window was closed until 5 AM and I needed to get on the train at 4:40 AM and I couldn't even get that ticket until 1), a chapter or two of Atlas Shrugged at McDonald's, and some rough sleep on a cold bench next to a lady who tried to talk to me in Polish and slipped in a couple of words of German now and then, I finally fell into my cubby on the 4:40 train. Glad to be alone, I slept for the first three or four hours and the ticket guy only interrupted me once. When another passenger finally did come, she talked and talked in a bubbly manner until she finally realized that I really couldn't speak Polish. She was so nice and showed that I could sleep with my feet on the bench so it would be more comfortable. When I woke up later, she gave me a roll with jam in the middle. Yum.

In Warszawa, at the ticket office, I showed the lady the ticket to the train I had missed, and I only had to pay 17 złoty (4 Euros) to buy a new reservation. I gathered my remaining złotys together and bought food. I was amazed how far the around 2 Euros went--I got a long baguette with cheese and ketchup on it, and three sweets with cheese or jam at the bakery. Mmm!

Again, on the train, I tried to sleep, but this time I was packed in the normal car (probably because of my late booking) behind an immature, talkative group of girls and next to a man who texted for several hours with the sounds to his buttons on.

Back in Berlin, the bubbly Alyssa and I chatted for a while, got dinner with her roommate, helped her roommate make a card for an intern, and watched "So You Think You Can Dance," which is somehow transferred from her parents' TV to her computer (it's called “Slingbox,” she said, and she also wished I could see "Glee"--no idea what that is).

The next morning, I went back to Leipzig with the talkative guy who turned out to not actually be as talkative as he is when someone has a train to catch. Ironically, we had five girls in the van and the one guy driver. Ha. Poland was great, but the getting there and getting back were painful--so much so that I was completely relieved to be back home.

So that's my trip. And here are some pictures (the Auschwitz pictures are especially interesting):

My Larval New Job

Did I tell you about my new job? All I seem to do now is to worry about our kitchen. I wipe off counters and clean up crumbs and try to put everybody else's food away. My main job is to kill moths, larvae, and fleas. Our kitchen was completely attacked by them. At first I hoped they would go away since I could see the main problem wasn't coming from my food and my roommates are out of town, but when the problem didn't solve itself, I used two plastic bags as gloves and went through all my roommates' food. There were worms and eggs in the pasta, in the flour, in the baking ingredients, in the tea, in the cardboard, everywhere! I threw away a huge amount of their food (I would say sorry, but I'm not really). Every time I saw another larva that had found its way to the wall, I vacuumed it up immediately. I couldn't get the ones in the corners, so those I sprayed with windex. Hee.

I'm verrrry grateful that a friend of mine cleaned out the vacuum for me. I'm pretty sure there was no bag in there . . .

Now, several weeks later, we're still having problems. What to do? My roommates are back, but so far my strict instructions to have everything in Tupperware or glass or packaged well in the fridge are not being followed. I don't know where the problem is coming from now. I don't see larvae anymore, just moths. Each day I kill at least five with the broom and there are dust smears on the walls and ceiling. One of my roommates bought a sticky thing that attracts them, and about twenty died on there. But they just keep coming! It seems like the more I kill, the more appear! Ack. I have the broom nearby and two pieces of cardboard for killing moths in the air. Then there's a wedding invitation on the window sill that's being used to kill the fleas on the window (sorry, people, but aren't you glad it didn't just go in the garbage?).

I've also gotten rid of our garbage can just for food and instead labeled a pot with a lid on it as "Bioabfall." Vinegar didn't work. The new system seems to have gotten rid of the cloud of fleas that used to rise up when you opened up the cupboard under the sink, and because the pot is small, we have to empty it more often. Yay! (I never thought I'd be glad about that.)

But now I've just discovered that the fridge is no longer working, so I'm cooking up the three frozen pizzas I had in the freezer (I dare to eat cold cooked pizza more than cooked pizza that's been at room temperature for a long time). I'm also hoping someone will take out whatever is stinking up the fridge (I can't find it). I hope my food makes it til I can eat it all and we can get a new fridge. Oh man.

What would you say my job title is?

Halloween Party

I know it was way too early to have a Halloween party, but that didn't stop 25 or so of us from having a blast last Monday. I was lucky that so many people contributed. I hardly had to do anything. I baked breadsticks, sent some emails, made an invitation, asked people if they were coming, asked people to do things, and ordered people around. Quite simple. I didn't do the decorations, I didn't bring the games, I didn't buy the pumpkins, etc.

Some things that made me smile:

• The sisters dressed up as each other.
• During pumpkin carving I realized we could bake the seeds and it worked out quite well.
• Benni came under a sheet with two holes cut into it, just like I suggested.
• Watching people try to eat hanging donuts is hilarious.
• So is apple bobbing.
• People dressed in Halloween costumes and wielding knives for pumpkin carving can be pretty creepy.
• Christina did an awesome job with the lighting. It was exactly what I'd imagined. Dark.
• I had Halloween music playing from the two computers using a YouTube play list I made.

Like I said, a blast.

A Little German

In one of the sections of the English book I use, the students are supposed to learn how to get to know someone. One sentence always gets to me. It says,

"Jose speaks Spanish, English, and a little German."

For some reason, every time I read that, I think about a small German person instead of the amount of the language he can speak. Ha ha.

So in June I was asked what all those office hours were that I'd been putting on my work time. It turns out that I don't get paid for the half hour I have to be there before classes start. I found that really annoying, but at least they didn't make me change all the earlier months.

Somehow my one English class just loves me to pieces. They say that I'm organized, know what I'm doing, and know what they need compared to the other teachers. I laugh every time I hear something like that, because I always go in not really knowing what we're going to do. I guess I have a good feel for what needs work and just focus on that. And since I can read fast, I can quickly see what each page works on. One of the students is a lady from my ward (Christina Heidler) who has helped me several times now with health issues. I was actually disappointed when she signed a contract with the language school, because I thought she wanted to do private lessons with me, which would have been less expensive for her and more money for me. Not to mention that every time I get a new student in one of my classes, I don't receive any more money than before but I have to work harder to get the group dynamics just right and catch up new students with the old students.

One student who has joined the class is especially difficult. She's joining at chapter 5, but she actually needs the class that leads up to the elementary class. She has a hard time remembering anything and takes a long time to answer questions, so I feel bad that I can't help her more.

On Monday, for the first time since I was told in March to be at least twenty minutes early and not wear jeans or sports shoes, I showed up five minutes before class with jeans and sports shoes because I was getting everything done for the Halloween party and so I could leave thereafter to go to Poland. And guess who was at the school who is almost never there? My boss. That was great, having her tell me to be earlier and having her give my jeans a look. Oh man.

The only reason I'm still working there is because if I can't find another way, that school can offer me a work visa. There is a lot of drama in this office which is exactly why I come exactly on time and leave immediately following classes. I don't want any part of it. I do my job and get out. I would love to find another, real job, but I am focusing on my health right now. I would love to find something really, really flexible so I can do my own thing. We'll see.

Uncle Al Interview (Missionaries and Hitler)

Keepapitchinin, a fabulous Mormon history blog, has kindly agreed to post these videos of an interview I did of my Uncle Al at her site so they would get some more viewers. As an introduction:

My great uncle, John Alvon Glauser, was born in 1913. He is the oldest of the seven children of John and Lena Glauser, both Swiss immigrants who met and married in Logan, Utah. Lena's maiden name was von Niederhausern, resulting in the "von" in "Alvon" (as a fun side story, Lena gave my Grandpa the letter N without a period or anything for his middle name since "Niederhausern" was so long--when people asked what it stood for, he always said "nothing" with a serious face). Uncle Al served a mission in Switzerland and Germany from 1934 to 1937. Because his stories of his mission have fascinated me for years, I felt like someone needed to record the story. As a result, last time I was in Salt Lake, I drove up to his house and recorded this video (the person asking questions and responding now and then is yours truly).

Al's love for his mission led him to meet up with many old mission companions for years in a group they called "The Forty-Niners" (after the address of their mission home). After his mission, Uncle Al found and married the lovely pianist and organist Beverly Brown, who had thought he would never call her again after their first date. They had two daughters, Shirley and Mitzi. With his brother, Reed, my grandpa, he continued the business his dad had started, Egg Products. After retirement, he was invited into the Dirty Shirts Club (see the July 12, 2006 issue of the Salt Lake Tribune--at that time, the average age was 84.8 in this club that golfs and bowls together on Wednesdays). In the last several years, Al has volunteered at LDS Hospital, where he drives cancer patients to their appointments in a golf cart. Having turned 96 on September 19th, he has now outlived all six of his younger siblings and keeps people around him laughing with the jokes he memorizes.

And now the videos:

Part 1 (Passion Play)


Part 2 (Hitler and Mussolini)


As I talked to Al when I last visited him, I asked him about his life in general and heard a lot of good stories. For example, he told me how he'd met Beverly at Pine Crest Inn at a Friday night dance. She'd been on a date with Reed Shepherd. He called her the next day, and after their date, she told her mother he'd never call again. At the time, she was 22 years old and teaching elementary school. She had graduated from the University of Utah and the Alumni president. She had already played the organ for years and continued the calling, even helping to pick out the pipe organ in his current ward. (As a side story, I remember at her funeral, it was said that she never owned a pair of jeans and that she would slip bits of Beatles and other music into prelude music to see if the bishopric noticed. If they did, she'd wink at them.)

“I feel guilty. I could have been nicer. I learned to be more compassionate and caring when she was sick and when she passed away. My daughters used to tell me that. They said, ‘Oh Daddy, don’t say that, then you say you feel guilty.’ Everybody isn’t the same. All couples have differences. You’ve got to let the wife do what she wants to do and the husband has to have his way too.” “I like people. I’ve learned to like people you know. Just recently, after Gloria passed away, and Reed passed away. I was pretty lonely for quite a few days, but time heals all. And I just sort of thought of every one of my siblings. And I learned from all of them. I learned from Ruby, Floyd, Lucille, and Ruby . . . I learned from all of them. We had fun. We had good times . . . When Ruby passed away, they recruited me [to play cards]. Then Reed filled in, then Mike Kendall.”

He also included that all of his sisters made it into their 80s and he had been at his sibling Floyd's and Lucille's homes when they passed away. Apparently his sister Ruby knew she was going to go soon, because after years of doing certain things for her husband Collins (the one Al had baptized), she showed him how to do some household duties—she had a premonition she was gonna go and just didn’t wake up the next morning. Al continued a good friendship with Collins and quoted him as saying, “The best thing that ever happened to me was when I married Ruby, married into the Glauser family.”

Al also told me that Hitler had the people stop smoking and fast for a day to contribute to the country’s cause, something I had never heard before. His descendants are spread out in California, Florida, and the Midwest U.S.

Magdeburg

Although Magdeburg isn't the most beautiful city, it has its charms. And it boasts the First Holy Roman Emperor, Otto I, who lived there in the 900s. Highlights of my visit included eating one of the most mesmerizing fruits I've ever seen (but painful if someone throws it to you, and its green, slimy seeds taste like a pumpkin, and it's called a "kiwano"),
















enjoying the last days of sunshine with a friend who had a birthday (and who forgot to leave his eyes open for the picture),













seeing the tallest church in eastern Germany (also seen in the background of the bridge picture),












seeing the famous architecture of Hundertwasser,













and making new friends by helping the Magdeburg branch move to a new location.

(Happy German Reunification Day and happy conference-watching!)

Leipzig YSA Halloween Costume Party 2009

You're invited (and I wanted to show off the poster I made):