Torch vs. Flashlight

Chamonix a year later is just like I remembered it. The smell is what I missed the most. The fresh French mountain air. It has a special smell to it. The smell is difficult to describe. The smell has the initial impact of making one feel alive. There is nothing like it.

Today, towards the end of our training today, we started discussing the role that our night porter plays in the entire experiment. This discussion ultimately led to a fire box, which apparently in the UK, houses a whistle, a reflective jacket, contact numbers and most importantly a torch. This box is supposed to be the first thing that the night porter should grab in the event that there is a fire in the hotel or chalet. As they were going through and explaining the importance that the fire box plays, they kept referring to the torch and how it should be pulled out automatically and used if needed. Well in my dumb feeble mind I kept wondering why the hell one would want to use a torch to start another fire if one is already in the process of trying to put out the original fire. Dumb Brits I figured. Well, come to find out, I was the dumb American. Apparently a "torch" is actually what the Brits call a "flashlight." You can play out the scene in your mind of what occurred when the dumb American raised this intelligent question. Blah!

After training today I felt a bit drained. It may have partly been due to the fact that it is Thanksgiving and I was a bit homesick or because i realized that I was going to have to be responisible for the chalet. Who knows. I took off after training and got a bar of chocolate and walked around the city. I ran into another manager who turned out to be Italian. We spoke for a bit and quickly realized that her parents live on the street next to the one that I lived on when I was in Rome. After exchanging stories about each other in French, English, Italian, and German I sat back and realized why I was there. This whole experience is exactly what I have been looking for.

All of the hotel managers have been here for a week and a half and myself and the other two Front House Supervisors were just thrown into the mix yesterday. So far it has been quite a ride. As soon as I arrived yesterday afternoon, I was automatically greeted by everyone and welcomed by the team. 99.7% of people are Brits and Scotts with a couple exceptions; me, Marta the Italian, and Melanie the German girl. Everyone is truly great and I am pretty confident that I will get along with everyone until Sunday, when we all depart for our resorts. Its pretty refreshing to see that we are all here for the same reason and that is to board/ski.

I still have absolutely no clue as to what I will be doing for the next 5 months. The only item that I have gathered over the day of training today is that I unfortunately have an important role. I have tried to pass on my role to the dishwasher but he wouldn't have it. For some reason the chalet that I will be working in is the largest one that our company runs. Somehow they are under the impression that this chalet can be run with only 3 managers and for some reason they think that my non-existent hotel experience will assist in making this possible. They must not have understood during my interview, due to my thick American accent, when I stated that I was interested in skiing hard, not working hard. I plan on delegating anything and everything to my staff. They will all be given my non existent mobile number and they will be instructed to call me in case anything happens but not if the place is on fire because I wont know what to do with the torch.

PS. Evidently I will be driving a convoy of some of us to Les Arcs and Courchevel. I failed to tell them that I am an aggressive driver and cant read a map to save my life.

NI Number

According to Wikipedia, National Insurance was first introduced by the National Insurance Act of 1911. An NI number is a tax number and determines your tax contributions. Residents of the UK receive a NI number before their 16th birthday and use this number for their entire life. Citizens from abroad who want to work must apply for a NI number. Without this number, they will be unable to work in the UK or for a UK company. This explains my day trip to Edinburgh.

I had been fretting over getting an NI appointment as soon as I received my job offer. There are several stressful elements to obtaining an NI number. One must be able to claim a UK residency. Secondly, you must be present during the interview. Thirdly, the interview cannot be made until you arrived in the UK. Fourthly, you have to have all necessary paperwork available to present during your interview, otherwise you can forget it. Fifthly, one must be a UK or EU citizen. Fortunately for me, I believe I was able to check off and complete all pertinent steps without conducting in any fraudulent activities.

I flew up to Edinburgh from Koeln yesterday and had my appointment this morning. I had hired a company to assist me with this. They helped set up a UK bank account for me as well as this interview. I was initially planning on going to London for my interview, however, all appointments are booked until the middle of December. My only other option as I saw it was to fly to Edinburgh. Fortunately, they were able to get me in at the last moment.

I met with Stewart this morning. In usual German style, I arrived half and hour early. I was banking on the thought that this could possibly increase my chances of getting an NI number. Who am I kidding? I was nervous and wanted to get it over with. After chatting with Stewart about the weather, skiing, the nights he spent sleeping in a field outside of Koeln, we proceeded to the interview. I was asked all sorts of standard questions. As I am not a fraud, I was able to answer all. I think some elements of my story did seem a bit shady as I have resided at several addresses all over the world in the last month. I technically have two in Germany, one in Edinburgh, and two in Portland. Yes, they did want to know this and yes I did need to explain myself a bit. I tried my best not to stutter.

After half an hour of chatting, he determined that my paperwork was complete. It is now in the hands of the Department of Work and Pensions and I should hear back in 2 weeks as to whether or not I was granted a number. Luckily he told me that I had nothing to worry about and that I should take off and enjoy my time in France. Therefore, my two overweight bags and I am now on a train headed to London. I am flying out to Geneva tomorrow at 12:20 on Easy Jet's flight # EZY 8472. From the looks of it I wont be able to sleep tonight due to all the excitement.

The Bernis

Dear Bernie,

Although no one wants to tell me for fear that I will worry and will come home too early, I have heard through the grapevine that you miss me and that you wait for me by the front door in hopes that I will walk through. I wish I could say that I don't miss you and that I don't think about you, but that would be a blatant lie. I think about you daily and often seem to find myself referencing you during conversations with strangers. I brag about you to everyone I meet. I walk by other creatures of your nature and seem to marvel to myself how perfect you are. Although I haven't even been gone long, it feels as though I have not seen you for an eternity. I miss our long talks, our Forest Park excursions, our dog park adventures, as well as the times when I am sequestered to a corner of my bed because you are sprawled out from one side to the other. Hell, I miss it all. Even your flatulence problems. I hope you know that I will be back soon. Until then, just know that a day does not pass by without me having sent numerous thoughts your way. Spend the time enjoying all of the peanuts, eggs, and treats that grandma and grandpa lay before you. They love you so.

So, da gehe jetzt schlaffen mein kleines Schweinschen.

Bis bald mein Liebschen.

Livi

Christmas in November

http://picasaweb.google.com/ohalfen/GermanyNovember2009#

A whirlwind week in Germany has been had. Everything that I wanted to do was done. Never could I have ever imagined to have such an amazing time. With the assistance of Claud and Lars (Sugarlips), I have been reacquainted with Germany and have grown quite fond of it.They did everything in their power to make sure that I had a fabulous time. I have never been treated in a more hospitable manner than I was by my favorite sister and her German.

The week started off on a fabulous note when they made me Jaeger Schnitzel, my favorite German meal, the first night I arrived. Although I was groggy, I savored every single bite. It was by far the best Schnitzel I have ever eaten. Sorry mom. They drove me hours out of their way so I could visit my grandparents and so that I could meet the parents of Mr. Sugarlips and enjoy an evening of Raclette with them. They even took me to my hometown so that I could eat sausages and fries with my cousin Wolfie and his mom Maria. We spent the days going to dinner parties at their friends homes, walking through the entire city, and we even took a break to taste the world renowned Koelsch at a record number of bars. In between all of that, I spent the rest of the time eating the various types of cheese that Claud and Lars bought for me. I always considered myself to be a cheese connoisseur, however, after my first bite of 1 of the 6 cheese types that they bought, it clearly became apparent that I am out of my league around Lars and Claud. It was evident that Lars invented the game and I am merely lucky enough to be an ignorant participant. Never in my life have I eaten, let alone seen the type of French cheese that they crossed the border to buy for me. Thus, I proceeded to make cheese my main staple food and ate it for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and forth meal.

The rest of the week progressed just as the first day did. I was constantly pampered by my gracious hosts. Although the entire week was great, I have to say that Sunday was definitely the best day of the trip. It is a day that I will never forget. Since Wolfie had come to Koeln for the night, Sugarlips and Claud decided to make pancakes for breakfast. We all woke up to the smell of Lars' banana pancakes. As the aroma of the pancakes was wafting through the apartment, we were all questioning when they would be done so that we could stop wiping away the drool and start stuffing our faces instead. After brunch we decided to do what all Germans do on sunny Sundays and that is, stroll. We took off and headed down towards the river. Our cousins Julia and Florian were coming in from Bonn and were going to have coffee with us. I felt as though the six of us were one big happy family and just as normal as the other families who were partaking in the sunshine. We spent the afternoon sipping on coffee, hot chocolate, and of course Gluhwein, which is a German warm wine speciality that is served during Christmas time. After saying goodbye to our cousins and friends, Claud, Lars, and I headed home. I spent the time on the train contriving a plan as to how I was going to pack 2 suitcases worth of clothes and gear into one suitcase. Apparently while I was busy stressing out, Claud and Lars were busy determining how they were going to execute a plan that they had come up with weeks ago.

Once I was done packing, Lars asked me to do him a favor and run to the market to grab some extra vegetables. I politely obliged and headed out. When I returned 6 minutes later, I was greeted by Mariah Carey's, "All I want for Christmas," as I started to walk up the stairs to their apartment building. As a side note, this song is the favorite of Claud and I. We prefer to put it on repeat for hours. When I approached their apartment, the door was open, the lights were off, and candles were lit. As I entered the living room, I was greeted by both Claud and Lars and a decorated the Christmas tree. I will never forget the image of both of them standing in front of the tree and the gigantic smile on Clauds face. I was informed that as I was not going to be with them for Christmas that they felt it was necessary that they pre-celebrate Christmas with me. I immediately started crying. It still brings tears to my eyes as I recount this. I sat with amazement the entire night while we ate a three course meal, opened gifts, and laid on the couch drinking another fabulous bottle of wine, while listening to non standard Christmas songs. There is really nothing more to say except for the fact that this Christmas was by far the best Christmas I have ever had. I feel truly blessed and thankful for what the both of them did for me, not only for the Christmas they created for me but also for everything they did for me during the time I was there. It is a week I wont ever forget.

German Efficiency

I landed in Frankfurt, Germany half an hour early on Tuesday. As much as that airport scares me with its wee men and their machine guns, as well as the workers on their collapsible bikes, there is a serene feeling of home that overcomes me when I set foot in the Frankfurt airport. I have flown in and out of this airport at least 60 times and each time the smells, the sounds, and the sites manage to take hold of me as I walk through the illuminated halls.

When I checked my luggage in Portland I conveniently had to pay for the extra suitcase that was used to house my overweight luggage. The United woman, who kept reminding me of the woman on "Meet the Fockers," spent an excessive amount of time filling out unnecessary paperwork. I was glad I came early. Needless to say, her languid approach to her job prevented me from having the beer that I routinely have before any international flight. Regardless, I made it on the plane and so did my luggage this time. Or so I convinced myself. When I arrived in Frankfurt, I quickly proceeded to the baggage claim, only to be greeted by an empty belt that did not hold either one of my three bags. Fortunately, this has happened to me before, thus, I quickly sprung into action and proceeded to the usual counter. When I explained to the woman that my bags were not there, she kindly reminded me that I had been scheduled to take the train to Koln. Since Claud, my favorite sister that she is, had volunteered to pick me up at the airport, I was able to bypass having to deal with the train and my cumbersome luggage. The woman then proceeded to say, "Well your bags are waiting for you at the train station, of course." Well of course, why didn't I think of that? I should have remembered what country I was in. Germany's constitution preaches efficiency and bans those individuals who practice any alternative. Why wouldn't my bags be waiting for me in front of my train? Why wouldn't they have anticipated that I was going to be exhausted from my flight and not interested in schlepping my 3 bags across the street, around bystanders, and up an escalator? Fabulous! After I received my bags, we were informed that we were going to have to proceed through customs in case I needed to declare any goods. When she pointed us in the direction of customs, Claud and I just started laughing hysterically. In the most inoffensive and discrete manner of course. See the picture and you can decide for yourself.

What if we had to declare something? Who would we declare it to?