I love Christmas. It's my favorite time of year. I always get super excited as soon as school's over and I don't have anything horrible pressing on me. In fact I'm so excited right now I have to write this post about something completely different, that is, preparing yourself for a zombie attack.
Most of you reading this, since you are probably fairly well acquainted with me, will have devoted at least a minimal amount of time to such preparation. However, I want to remind all those closest to me to maintain vigilance; and also, as most of us are at a highly mobile time of our lives, in a highly mobile era, I want to discuss a little bit how to preserve readiness in all corners.
-- 1. Always have a secure, secluded location picked out to remove to in the case of an outbreak. This is often the most difficult part of any defense plan, but it is also the most important. If you can get yourself away from the zombies, all other weaknesses in your scheme are moot.
A good location is one that is far from any urban centers, and one that you can reach by bicycle or on foot. If at all possible it should be on land that gives the intelligent few significant advantage over mindless hoards, e.g., sheer faces a human can climb with a little effort and throw rocks onto any undead at leisure. Before traveling to any new location, pull out a map of the region and pick as best you can. Upon arrival, make sure it's OK and find a new one if necessary.
In case of a sudden, viscinal outbreak, have a plan to fortify your home or place of temporary residence.
--2. Keep appropriate tools of zombie destruction at hand. Make sure they are legal in your place of residence - confiscation will leave you vulnerable, and in the case of a sustained outbreak, there is no worse place to find oneself than a prison. Remember, unless you are in a open space with lots of room to run and little flammable material, do NOT use fire against zombies. It has the potential to take out many at once, but will not destroy the brain fast enough to prevent them from setting alight everything in a large radius.
--3. Carry an appropriate amount of supplies with you wherever you go. This should include amounts of imperishable, non-salty foods, and lots of socks if the weather/terrain does not permit sandals or bare feet. Trenchfoot is the last thing you want.
Supplies include a portable radio - NOT attached to a phone. The plethora of stations these pick up means you will get news faster after the crisis has passed than relying on a single company. These radios are small enough nowadays that they are not a burden, even on the lightest of trips. If you are living in a country where you do not speak the language, a satellite phone is a good investment.
I must admit, it's really damn difficult to keep up with all of this, far more difficult in Europe than in the States, most importantly due to the fairly baffling population density. Go look up Cambridge, England on Google maps, then count the number of towns you can see. Then zoom in and count again. Then zoom in and count again. You'll start to see that there's almost no land between settlements. This is the rule rather than the exception on this side of the Atlantic. And it makes picking out a spot without people really really hard. On the other hand, all your best options are totally within walking distance!
There are two good options in Heidelberg: first, the castle halfway up the hill. Very defensible, and has a little restaurant where there is surely a few days' worth of food. However, it's the first place everyone will go in the event of an outbreak, and the city has grown quite a bit since last everyone could fit in there. The other good spot is on the very top of the hill opposite the castle, where there was a Celtic hill fort here about two thousand years ago. It's not steep enough to keep out zombies, but it's enough to slow them down, and the trees and church ruin are fairly suited for defense.
I hope you've found something of use in all this. I promise I'll post something more Christmassy soon (probably Sunday or Monday - ahhhh, having a little vacation is wonderful!). In the meantime, Happy Christmas! And enjoy some tamales for me if you have the means, there is a desperate shortage here.
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Friday, December 17, 2010
We are so cold we accidentally Set Things On Fire.
It's freaking cold here. About 25 F. It's so cold, I saw a funny car on the way to school and I was going to write down something about it, but I couldn't write anything because my hands were in two pairs of gloves and so cold my dexterity score went to zero. So you'll just have to imagine what I might've said, I can't remember.
There's quite a bit of snow here now - we got a fresh 4-6 inches last night. It's super powdery, so you can't really make snowballs out of it, but it's really pretty. Unfortunately for me, the Germans are used to this sort of thing, so I have to go to class; this is a problem for two reasons. First I have to sit in a lecture hall and watch the PhD students play outside. Second, all my outdoor movement algorithms are completely flummoxed by this much damn snow. The parts where lots of people have walked are really slippery, but so are the parts where no-one has walked! THERE ARE NO OTHER PARTS! About every ten feet or so I have to stop and get my bearings after defying gravity and keeping my feet under the rest of me. And where the snow is still 4-6 inches deep, I've realized why everyone in Lord of the Rings (apart from Legolas) was always "trudging." There's no other word for it. It's the sound one's watch makes in this much snow.
I realize, of course, that maybe half a foot isn't a really huge amount of snow by the standards of some. But I haven't seen this much snow since I was four and could basically be air lifted into the car by more experienced trudgers. I know that ~25 F isn't really that cold either, to anyone currently living in the Midwest (which is a funny name, isn't it? Should be more like Northmid or Midmid), but I wasn't expecting it to be so cold. Wikipedia told me that this was the coldest it got in Heidelberg! ...On average! I shouldn't have to go buy a freaking scarf. (I thought I'd make a joke here about how Wiki should buy me a scarf AND pay the damn customs tariff on it, but I don't think I've gone a day in about four years without reading something awesome there, and I've never donated, so I think I'd feel too guilty. Plus it'd be too much of a digression.)
My nose runs constantly in the cold. Fortunately they sell pocketpacks of some sort of Kleenex-analogue by the dozen for cheaps, so it's not too terrible. You know, when Napolean invaded Russia, he put big ol' brass buttons all over his soldier's uniforms so they'd quit wiping their noses on their sleeves, which just astonishes the hell out of me every time I think about it. I'd much rather have troops go out with streaky uniforms than the hellish tickle of a drippy nose. Especially against the Russians, who were probably armed with pocketpacks of Kleenex. Maybe they'd offer spares to the French as defection rewards.Anyways, Yandee's nose does not run in the cold. I thought, maybe this is a white people thing. But I've looked it up now, and it turns out the cold air hits the warm air in your nose which makes water vapor from the outside air condense. This mixes with mucous and makes it runny (see here for elaboration). This shoots down my theory, since Yandee definitely has runny noses at other times. Maybe her nose is just colder?
Dear reader, you've probably read through this whole post, wondering when I would get around to what was set on fire, and were probably irritated at some point that I hadn't mentioned it yet. Well, here it is: Yandee and I went out to get a currywurst (basically the taco-run equivalent in Germany), and sat down with our food at a little table, after stripping off our outermost winter layers. There was a tea candle on the table. We didn't even her scarf was on fire for like half a minute, because we figured the smell of burning acrylic yarn was totally just an overdone feuerwurst.
There's quite a bit of snow here now - we got a fresh 4-6 inches last night. It's super powdery, so you can't really make snowballs out of it, but it's really pretty. Unfortunately for me, the Germans are used to this sort of thing, so I have to go to class; this is a problem for two reasons. First I have to sit in a lecture hall and watch the PhD students play outside. Second, all my outdoor movement algorithms are completely flummoxed by this much damn snow. The parts where lots of people have walked are really slippery, but so are the parts where no-one has walked! THERE ARE NO OTHER PARTS! About every ten feet or so I have to stop and get my bearings after defying gravity and keeping my feet under the rest of me. And where the snow is still 4-6 inches deep, I've realized why everyone in Lord of the Rings (apart from Legolas) was always "trudging." There's no other word for it. It's the sound one's watch makes in this much snow.
I realize, of course, that maybe half a foot isn't a really huge amount of snow by the standards of some. But I haven't seen this much snow since I was four and could basically be air lifted into the car by more experienced trudgers. I know that ~25 F isn't really that cold either, to anyone currently living in the Midwest (which is a funny name, isn't it? Should be more like Northmid or Midmid), but I wasn't expecting it to be so cold. Wikipedia told me that this was the coldest it got in Heidelberg! ...On average! I shouldn't have to go buy a freaking scarf. (I thought I'd make a joke here about how Wiki should buy me a scarf AND pay the damn customs tariff on it, but I don't think I've gone a day in about four years without reading something awesome there, and I've never donated, so I think I'd feel too guilty. Plus it'd be too much of a digression.)
My nose runs constantly in the cold. Fortunately they sell pocketpacks of some sort of Kleenex-analogue by the dozen for cheaps, so it's not too terrible. You know, when Napolean invaded Russia, he put big ol' brass buttons all over his soldier's uniforms so they'd quit wiping their noses on their sleeves, which just astonishes the hell out of me every time I think about it. I'd much rather have troops go out with streaky uniforms than the hellish tickle of a drippy nose. Especially against the Russians, who were probably armed with pocketpacks of Kleenex. Maybe they'd offer spares to the French as defection rewards.Anyways, Yandee's nose does not run in the cold. I thought, maybe this is a white people thing. But I've looked it up now, and it turns out the cold air hits the warm air in your nose which makes water vapor from the outside air condense. This mixes with mucous and makes it runny (see here for elaboration). This shoots down my theory, since Yandee definitely has runny noses at other times. Maybe her nose is just colder?
Dear reader, you've probably read through this whole post, wondering when I would get around to what was set on fire, and were probably irritated at some point that I hadn't mentioned it yet. Well, here it is: Yandee and I went out to get a currywurst (basically the taco-run equivalent in Germany), and sat down with our food at a little table, after stripping off our outermost winter layers. There was a tea candle on the table. We didn't even her scarf was on fire for like half a minute, because we figured the smell of burning acrylic yarn was totally just an overdone feuerwurst.
Saturday, December 11, 2010
In which Sean gets a visa
This Wedenesday, I got up really pissed off. I hadn't seen the sun in two weeks, mostly because of rain and snow, but occasionally just because it was overcast. I'd often been hungry and insomniated at 4:00am, and unable to go get a drive-thru milkshake. But mostly I was pissed because I had to get up at 8 to go get a visa.
Yeah, I lived in Germany for 72 days of my 90-day temporary visa. But I wasn't just blowing it off, I promise! In order to prove this, I will briefly outline the requirements:
1. Health insurance. This was actually sort of super easy. I went to the office and the following dialogue ensued:
Me: Uhhhh... Sprechen Sie Englisch?
Dude: Yeah, what's up?
Me: I need insurance.
Dude: Why?
Me: Most pressingly, because I can't register for class until I've got some.
Dude: Ah, student insurance. You want Herr Guy in back.
---
Guy: So how old are you?
Me: 22
Guy: Are you married?
Me: No
Guy: K, here's your policy, effective as soon as you sign up for class.
Me: Hax!
(Incidentally, if I'd said I WAS married, they would have put my spouse on my policy for no extra charge. For those curious.)
2. Proof of enrollment.
God this took forever. They didn't want to register me until I had an address (that's another story), and when I finally convinced them I seriously wouldn't have one until it was way too late, they put my file on the stack. I finally got an ID card about the second week of class.
3. Proof of residence
OK, so they didn't actually require proof of residence, but I had 90 days to get a visa before they kicked me out of the country, and a much shorter time to find an apartment before I went completely insane. I lived in a hostel for almost a month, which was cool because it was social, and not cool, because I had a grad-student amount of homework to do. Plus it was just weird at times. Like when a bunch of Belgians came in for a stag night (more like stag week?) and didn't wear clothes the whole time. Anyway so not a strict German requirement, but definitely a personal requirement.
4. Deal with the Immigration office.
As an amateur student of comparative immigration, I know this was relatively easy, but I think I got my fair share of frustration. I got a little piece of paper that named my immigration officer, and said they preferred emails to calls. So I sent an email... and heard nothing for two weeks. So I though, sorry mate, you're gonna have to deal with me on the phone. But they'd got me beat there, too! I called the number, and after a few rings a recording informed me that this particular customer was no longer reachable. AAAAAA what?? This is the city office! They've freaking got to have some kind of phone bill waiver right! After another week and no email, I decided the situation required a personal visit. After wandering the halls, desperate and confused, speaking alternately in apologetic English and shit German, I found the secretary and explained my situation. I think another dialogue would best illustrate:
Me: I tried to email this guy, then I tried to call him but the line was disconnected.
Secretary: What guy?
Me: This guy, the one that's officer for surnames Pu-Um.
Secretary: What's your name?
Me: ...Smith.
Secretary: OK, that's the guy. You should email him.
Me: Yeah I did that, but he hasn't responded and it's been three weeks now, so.
Secretary: Oh. Hm. Well, how about you email him again.
Me: :-O .... :-O
Secretary: Just fill this form out.
Me: OK, I've done that.
Secretary: Oh, really? Then I'll just give it to him and you'll hear from him in a while.
Me: :-D Yay!
I did hear from him in only a couple more days, and he gave me an appointment in only two weeks, and miraculously, on my day off of class!
My appointment was at 10:00 and I got up at 8, because I wanted to be there early, and also because I wanted to be there extra early since I needed a passport picture and that's where the machine is. I got there right at 9, got my photo in about ten minutes, and made it to outside Herr Officer's office by 9:15. He noticed I was there pretty quick and totally let me in early, and I was out by 9:45. So the bottom line here is that I made it out of a government office BEFORE I WAS EVEN SUPPOSED TO BE THERE. That beats my personal record by like four hours.
By the way, I don't know if passport picture machines are just way better in Germany than at Walgreens, but the quality of my visa picture is like 10x my passport picture. Check it out:
Passport: Visa:
OK, so these could be photos of two different people, one a free-spirited college sophomore with a broken razor, one a guy who just walked off the set of Geek Twilight and hasn't washed off his make-up yet. But despite this, the fidelity differential is clear.
So now you know how to get a student visa in Germany. Maybe now, armed with this knowledge, you'll be able to get yours before you have to start worrying about deportation.
Yeah, I lived in Germany for 72 days of my 90-day temporary visa. But I wasn't just blowing it off, I promise! In order to prove this, I will briefly outline the requirements:
1. Health insurance. This was actually sort of super easy. I went to the office and the following dialogue ensued:
Me: Uhhhh... Sprechen Sie Englisch?
Dude: Yeah, what's up?
Me: I need insurance.
Dude: Why?
Me: Most pressingly, because I can't register for class until I've got some.
Dude: Ah, student insurance. You want Herr Guy in back.
---
Guy: So how old are you?
Me: 22
Guy: Are you married?
Me: No
Guy: K, here's your policy, effective as soon as you sign up for class.
Me: Hax!
(Incidentally, if I'd said I WAS married, they would have put my spouse on my policy for no extra charge. For those curious.)
2. Proof of enrollment.
God this took forever. They didn't want to register me until I had an address (that's another story), and when I finally convinced them I seriously wouldn't have one until it was way too late, they put my file on the stack. I finally got an ID card about the second week of class.
3. Proof of residence
OK, so they didn't actually require proof of residence, but I had 90 days to get a visa before they kicked me out of the country, and a much shorter time to find an apartment before I went completely insane. I lived in a hostel for almost a month, which was cool because it was social, and not cool, because I had a grad-student amount of homework to do. Plus it was just weird at times. Like when a bunch of Belgians came in for a stag night (more like stag week?) and didn't wear clothes the whole time. Anyway so not a strict German requirement, but definitely a personal requirement.
4. Deal with the Immigration office.
As an amateur student of comparative immigration, I know this was relatively easy, but I think I got my fair share of frustration. I got a little piece of paper that named my immigration officer, and said they preferred emails to calls. So I sent an email... and heard nothing for two weeks. So I though, sorry mate, you're gonna have to deal with me on the phone. But they'd got me beat there, too! I called the number, and after a few rings a recording informed me that this particular customer was no longer reachable. AAAAAA what?? This is the city office! They've freaking got to have some kind of phone bill waiver right! After another week and no email, I decided the situation required a personal visit. After wandering the halls, desperate and confused, speaking alternately in apologetic English and shit German, I found the secretary and explained my situation. I think another dialogue would best illustrate:
Me: I tried to email this guy, then I tried to call him but the line was disconnected.
Secretary: What guy?
Me: This guy, the one that's officer for surnames Pu-Um.
Secretary: What's your name?
Me: ...Smith.
Secretary: OK, that's the guy. You should email him.
Me: Yeah I did that, but he hasn't responded and it's been three weeks now, so.
Secretary: Oh. Hm. Well, how about you email him again.
Me: :-O .... :-O
Secretary: Just fill this form out.
Me: OK, I've done that.
Secretary: Oh, really? Then I'll just give it to him and you'll hear from him in a while.
Me: :-D Yay!
I did hear from him in only a couple more days, and he gave me an appointment in only two weeks, and miraculously, on my day off of class!
My appointment was at 10:00 and I got up at 8, because I wanted to be there early, and also because I wanted to be there extra early since I needed a passport picture and that's where the machine is. I got there right at 9, got my photo in about ten minutes, and made it to outside Herr Officer's office by 9:15. He noticed I was there pretty quick and totally let me in early, and I was out by 9:45. So the bottom line here is that I made it out of a government office BEFORE I WAS EVEN SUPPOSED TO BE THERE. That beats my personal record by like four hours.
By the way, I don't know if passport picture machines are just way better in Germany than at Walgreens, but the quality of my visa picture is like 10x my passport picture. Check it out:
Passport: Visa:
OK, so these could be photos of two different people, one a free-spirited college sophomore with a broken razor, one a guy who just walked off the set of Geek Twilight and hasn't washed off his make-up yet. But despite this, the fidelity differential is clear.
So now you know how to get a student visa in Germany. Maybe now, armed with this knowledge, you'll be able to get yours before you have to start worrying about deportation.
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Chapter 1: The Flood
So I decided to start a blog, for several reasons. First, every other American kid here has one, and I felt left out. Second, living in another country is a constant source of bizarre cultural encounters, and I thought I might share them. I've been living in Heidelberg just over two months now, and I don't want to try and catch up all at once. I'll resort to flashbacks of the good stuff when necessary, and just jump straight into the Now. I think it'll be less painful that way.
Today is Sunday, which is a day of enforced relaxing and family time in Germany. Very few stores are allowed to open, mostly bakeries and gas stations; actually, I think there was some major outcry when bakeries were allowed to open on Sundays, because people were afraid that it would destroy the German family life. Anyway, I've gotten used to it and I was very much looking forward to my day of rest. Which naturally meant something horrible was going to happen.
It is necessary to explain the layout of my apartment at this point. It's two rooms and a kitchen off a little hall. The shower and sink are in a little room enclosed off the kitchen, but the toilet it outside my apartment, by the stairway up to the other units. I don't have to share it with anyone, but it gets REALLY COLD in the stairwell, so any tour of the plumbing requires advance preparation, in the form of putting on shoes, sweaters, etc.
I got up this morning in need of such an expedition, and prepared and executed, with just a small bit of unease in the back of my mind that I confidently dismissed as a remnant of Saturday's excellent beer. I returned to the main quarters to wash my hands when I discovered the problem - the freaking shower was clogged and completely full of really gross water, from at least two kitchen sinks and probably a shower as well. The water was oily, opaque, and dully purple. Scared the hell out of me at first, it looked exactly like the clogged tubs in haunted house movies, into which the heroine reaches to unplug, causing Gollum to jump out of the bottom and kill her in a horrible, dark, and lonely manner. I was not about to deal with that by myself, so I called in Yandee, because as everyone knows, sunken corpses in bathtubs will only attack if no one's looking. Then we both started bailing the water into the toilet, since that was the house's only orifice that seemed to be working (I swore at this point to never again complain about having to cross the hall for the toilet. You've seen how long that lasted).
Once the water was no longer in danger of overflowing if Mrs. Upstairs took a shower, and had also receded from the kitchen sink, we decided to give it a rest and call the landlord. He answered and promised to call a plumber ASAP... meaning tomorrow, since today's Sunday. RAGE! I decided that such a situation clearly called for some sandwiches from the bakery. That'll teach 'em. I bought two and Yandee and I ate them testily in the sitting room.
In a couple of hours, the water spontaneously started draining again. Laissez Faire, ladies and gentlemen. It works.
Today is Sunday, which is a day of enforced relaxing and family time in Germany. Very few stores are allowed to open, mostly bakeries and gas stations; actually, I think there was some major outcry when bakeries were allowed to open on Sundays, because people were afraid that it would destroy the German family life. Anyway, I've gotten used to it and I was very much looking forward to my day of rest. Which naturally meant something horrible was going to happen.
It is necessary to explain the layout of my apartment at this point. It's two rooms and a kitchen off a little hall. The shower and sink are in a little room enclosed off the kitchen, but the toilet it outside my apartment, by the stairway up to the other units. I don't have to share it with anyone, but it gets REALLY COLD in the stairwell, so any tour of the plumbing requires advance preparation, in the form of putting on shoes, sweaters, etc.
I got up this morning in need of such an expedition, and prepared and executed, with just a small bit of unease in the back of my mind that I confidently dismissed as a remnant of Saturday's excellent beer. I returned to the main quarters to wash my hands when I discovered the problem - the freaking shower was clogged and completely full of really gross water, from at least two kitchen sinks and probably a shower as well. The water was oily, opaque, and dully purple. Scared the hell out of me at first, it looked exactly like the clogged tubs in haunted house movies, into which the heroine reaches to unplug, causing Gollum to jump out of the bottom and kill her in a horrible, dark, and lonely manner. I was not about to deal with that by myself, so I called in Yandee, because as everyone knows, sunken corpses in bathtubs will only attack if no one's looking. Then we both started bailing the water into the toilet, since that was the house's only orifice that seemed to be working (I swore at this point to never again complain about having to cross the hall for the toilet. You've seen how long that lasted).
Once the water was no longer in danger of overflowing if Mrs. Upstairs took a shower, and had also receded from the kitchen sink, we decided to give it a rest and call the landlord. He answered and promised to call a plumber ASAP... meaning tomorrow, since today's Sunday. RAGE! I decided that such a situation clearly called for some sandwiches from the bakery. That'll teach 'em. I bought two and Yandee and I ate them testily in the sitting room.
In a couple of hours, the water spontaneously started draining again. Laissez Faire, ladies and gentlemen. It works.
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