Friend Wanted

I was talking to my mom on the phone about how weird it is to be starting this new year from scratch. New apartment. New roommates. New ward. New area of Provo. New classes. New beginning. NEW. It's a weird word.

But the hardest part was the part that I call "the people change". All of the people I love, my people, for the most part, are no longer part of my BYU experience. Not only do I have very few people whom I can call to just hang out, but also very few people whom I feel comfortable talking to at all-- those people, who, when I am with them, I can be nobody other than myself. Where I can express my love for scrabble without fear of appearing lame or nerdy, or admit that sometimes, when I am alone, I watch little house on the prairie or the scarlet pimpernel on youtube, without ever feeling less cool or anything else. I have lost the majority of the people with who I feel confident.

Woah.

And so, with tears streaming down my face, I explained this dilemma. And people always assume that I want someone to date, or some significant other, or something. Not the case. I just want a friend. A good friend. Who will play scrabble with me, or teach me how to lift weights at the gym without intimidating me.

The solution?

Go to the buy and sell board at the WILK and post this:

FRIEND WANTED

Must be willing to play scrabble and do other random silly things. Must not fear the outdoors.

Meals will sometimes be provided for friends.

Please call.

Well. I thought about it.

Maybe next week....

Go

Pancakes With White Flour

First day of school. In elementary school it is mostly a great excuse to meet up with new friends as pack your desk with your new school supplies (nothing is more exhilarating than opening all your new pencils and lining your white erasers up and having a new back-pack with your name inked on in sharpie). You go to school in your bestest back to school clothes, new shoes, and socks that won't stay white for very long. Such were the days of recess.

In middle and high school, the air is also tinged with expectancy toward new boys, dances, comparing brand names of new clothes, learning your locker combination and learning how to skip class without getting caught. Such were the days of student government, homecoming, and who is dating who-- along with those exams and grades that you need to get to college.

And then suddenly you're there. Everybody is still wearing new clothes--- but nobody notices you wearing them. You go to class, get a syllabus, get overwhelmed when you look at the semester calender and realize how little you're going to be sleeping, start that part time job--- and go home to a can of black beans for dinner.

It gets even better at BYU, because not only can you feel the tension of the start of the new semester, you can also feel the eyes of people everywhere sizing up the people around them. Sometimes, I feel like campus is nothing but eyes-- looking, looking.... not only for new people to befriend and date, but for people you know, that you might run into. We all secretly love seeing a familiar face, and love it even more when that familiar face sees yours and they... SMILE.

Gotta love college.

Mack the Knife

The title of this post is the title of a Bobby Darin Song. Coincidence? Perhaps not.

No, since returning home, I have spent an inordinate amount of time today doing "important" things on my computer. As an excuse to let pandora play long and loud-- on my big band/jazz/blues station. Note to all unknowing Americans-- Pandora is a blessing for your land alone. No other members of the human race have the access to music that you have.

A note about this kind of music. It makes me want to be like this:



A little bit of a fantasy? Perhaps.

I have always wanted to dance-- and maybe my listening to music first recorded in the first half od this century is not the best way to cure this silly romantic notion that I have. Waltzing across an empty stage in a gorgeous blue dress to some of the greatest music ever produced by humanity. Silly.

What can I say? It's gotten under my skin. :)

How Germany Completely and Totally Changed My Life

I know most of the time the titles to my posts have almost nothing to do with what I write.

But I felt like germany is an experience that deserves a real title, maybe once. Or twice.

Okay.

The thing is, is that the way in which Germany changed my life is so indescribable, so unable to be placed into words-- especially English words, that I think I will always be perpetually dissatisfied with this post-- real title or not.

Okay.

When I think of Germany, I think of strength. Not really because all germans are strong, but because I feel like you must learn to be strong if you are to succeed in a place that is completely new and very different. I can see in my mind's eye this picture:

Julie is walking home from Kaisers to her small apartment in charlottenburg. The sun is setting in the park across from her house, and the clouds are moving in. It'll probably be raining tomorrow. She has in her grocery bag, milchbrot, nutella, vanilla jogurt and rasberries. She's thinking about how she can still feel the cobblestones through her shoes, and how tired she is from the long day of walking and german and museums that happened. That is somehow-- life changing.

Or try this one. Julie is hiking by herself down a path by Neu Schwanstein. She sees a waterfall, and laughs out loud to herself-- simply because she is so happy to be surrounded by the creations of God. She wants to get closer so she climbs down the rocks until she is at the base of the falls and can walk in the water that is pouring down the face of a member of the Alps. The sky is blue and the trees and hills roll together to create a fairy-tale view that any artist would covet. This is also-- life changing.

Or getting on a dirty train alone, trying to decide how best to say-- sorry, is it okay if I put my bag there? Or going into a book store and trying to think about how to say-- I don't need a bag, I'll just put that in my back pack. Or walking alone down Friedrichstrasse and tapping a German on the shoulder and asking them which way to Gendarmenmarkt. Again... a mosaic of small things that changed my life.

Or maybe the people that I grew to love. Or the food I got to eat. Or the rare germans that spoke the language so beautifully and clearly that it almost brought tears to my eyes. Or that moment, when you find Rittersport for sixty cents instead of eighty five. Or find a great doener at hauptbahnhof. Or discover the fastest way to get from Alexander Platz to Zoologischer Garten. Or sitting in church on sunday and hearing the gospel truth-- still true in german. Or arguing about where to get Eis-- and whether it would be worth a euro to spend on one scoop.

This is germany. And somehow, someway-- the muesli, and the train stations, and the sounds that the u-bahn trains make when the doors close, and how dirty you get when you touch something at alex, and how long it takes you to get home at night, and the linden trees and the bayerish farms and... the annoying tourists-- made me stronger. Better.

I hate to say goodbye. Bis, Spaeter, Deutschland. Du gefaellt mir wunderbar. Und ich vergesse dich nicht.

Berlin

This is a poem that I wrote after my experience in Berlin. Its title is, "Berlin."

Lovely, as the stars are invisible
Time jumps by in clusters here.

Ugly, the scaffolded narrow streets pass along
With the rhythm of a city--
Made mostly of memories. Confliction.

Speeding trains, smoke, rushing people
Handrails, stick with many hands,
Gardens, columns, gates marked with victory--
Music on the metro.

Art in quiet in corners.
Linden trees, green trees, shady trees.
Brick, sandstone, stone under your feet.
Steel, shrapnel, graffiti.

Excuse me, speak English? Somehow--
somehow this culture exists.
Somehow it pulses with ambitious life--
and echoes with dark-chocolate death.

Guns, the wall still standing,
Speaking. Still.
Unchanging. Unmoving. German.

But when I come back to you, entshuldigung,
Maybe in ten years or so--
You'll be built of memories again.

Change.
And remember, you change me.

And Suddenly Seymore...

well suddenly, the time that you thought would never go by, has gone by and you are buying your last train ticket.

Today I bought my last train ticket. Tubingen to Frankfurt. One way.

Today was also the last day I went to class. All the cute little asians in my class were crying because we had to leave, and wanted picture after picture after picture. It was adorable.

I won't give my "how germany changed my life" post until after I land and finally buy groceries in English again.

But I write this as I look out over the trees and hills surrounding the small town that I live in, and suddenly wish that suddenly, I didn't have to think about not being to see them again. I am really quite excited to go home, to be back in school, to get my life back in hand-- but I will be sorry when my world no longer includes modal verbs, eis, and arguing over the best place to get a doener.

surreal.

suddenly, I have realized my strong feelings-- just in time to let them go.

Shall We Dance?

Southern Germany is lovely.

Also… all Germans know how to dance?

I have been to church dances all my life, but never once have I ever once believed one could dance the foxtrot to “Dynamite” or “Every Time We Touch”. Granted it is a lose foxtrot, and they kind of combine that with some sort of swing step, but, we, as americans (or Canadians…), felt very out of place there with our swaying and step-snap dance circle. It was awesome.

Even though home was a very late reality last night, I woke up early this morning and watched the sun rise outside my window. It was lovely.

The Other Germany

I have passed through the midst of the large city and now have had the pleasure of running through the true wilderness. Literally.

We left berlin on last month. I wish I could say I was sad to leave it, but, just like Berlin is a city defined by change, I was defined by the changes that happened to me in Berlin. And, that Friday marked a big step forward into a new realization of who I am, and what I want to become. So, it is only fitting that I, Julie Gwilliam, begin the next chapter in a new place.

Germany is a beautiful place. Truly one of the most gorgeous country-sides in the whole of this earth. It is green, and there are rolling fields, thick forests and hills just tall enough to be small mountains that are great to hike.

We decided we would dive into the wilderness like the athletic ambitious that we aren’t, and tackled that mountain, running (well mostly running) the whole way up. The view was worth it. I hadn’t realized until that moment, when I was running there with trees all around me, surrounded by great friends, that I hadn’t really appreciated Germany (or nature) ever in my life.

After the high of reaching a place where all of Germany seemed open to our view, we started the trek back down the trail-- the wrong trail. We got very, very lost. But it was great. We laughed and everyone kept their cool and suddenly the prospect of spending a night out in the wilderness on some German mountain didn’t seem at all that big of a deal. It slowly got dark as we slowly picked out way down the mountain, and slowly made our way back to town (we had ended up over a mile away from the trailhead).

Germany is beautiful. And I didn’t even know.

So, I will end this post with this letter.

Dear Tiergarten,

We are grateful for all you do to add green to Berlin. You truly are an amazing feat of nature in a dirty great metropolis. However, we must regretfully inform you that you are simply not as qualified as some of our other applicants in representing the beauty of your country.

Your post in Berlin is needed, and even though there are many openings elsewhere, we feel as though the promotion of German beauty will be fulfilled much better by some of our other applicants. Thank you.

Keep up the great work.

Sincerely,

The Former Berliners