HAMBURG

The first few days in Hamburg felt like taking a test that everyone else has studied for. Finding housing, manipulating the transit system, meeting with people without the aid of a phone—all of this in a language I know a few dozen words in. The stressful atmosphere was heightened by the fact that, from a distance, Hamburg emergency sirens sound like the first few notes of the Jeopardy theme song. Order a donner kebab? Double Jeopardy. The nice thing is that I received rewards every time I succeed in using the German language—when I learned the word for chocolate (Schokolade), I felt like a puppy that had learned a trick and earned a treat. Hopefully, this will instill a Pavlovian response, and German words will pour forth from me like drool. My lack of language lead me to spent my first weekend here virtually silent, which meant that when I finally met up with an American friend, I found myself gushing, talking about anything, just enjoying the fact that I could talk and be understood.

Being isolated makes you realize how many hours there are in the day. Without people to chat with on my cell phone, the internet or an ipod, I found myself with enough time to write the great American novel. Of course, as soon as I got my housing set up, a LAN line and a converter, I saw the great American novel disappear and become a series of short stories. When the other students in my program, all English speakers, began to show up, short stories transformed into blog posts.