Oh, The Trouble You Will Find

My peanut butter jar was almost empty and the package from my parental units with its replacement was overdue.  It was then that I received a letter from the post office: I need to visit the customs office and pay sales tax on whatever was in this box.  First, this was the third supply of peanut butter, yet the only one to be stopped by customs (odd); and second, the full extent of the contents were unknown to me (possibly concerning).

The letter explained where I was to go and that I had only 14 days to pick it up before it would be shipped back to the sender.  It continued to detail out costs for daily storage which further emphasized their desire that I sort this out as soon as possible.  As the customs office is out near the airport and hidden away, I asked my new expat American friend to join me and show me the way; he frequents this office.

Jumping on our bikes, we pedaled out and uphill to the office and found it on the second floor, through a nondescript door, and at the end of a hall.  I spend over 30 minutes with them going through a medium-sized box and itemizing each piece of its contents.  The German government wanted its 19 percent sales tax on everything that was shipped over; however, as it was a gift, the first €45 would be duty-free.  After I kept insisting that I didn’t have receipts and couldn’t get receipts, we went about guessing the value of the items.  At some point, we all lost interest and simply used the value put on the US customs form and taxed that.  I felt very fortunate to leave with only paying €6.13; I was expecting much, much worse.

I had hoped to balance the box on my bike for the return journey, but it quickly became clear that that was not going to work.  Having divided up the contents of the package between our backpacks and then stuffing the rest into the bike hampers, I finally got my peanut butter safely home.

Tapping Happenings

I continue to teach beginner tap on Thursdays.  Attendance waxes and wains.  Regardless, my class is making some good progress.  The first two weeks of October are a school holiday in Germany, so naturally it’s a holiday for everyone.  My tap instructor, and the owner of the school, had a gig the second Tuesday of the month and did not want to have to rush back to teach his three tap classes; he asked if I could sub.

I spent over ten hours preparing lessons and choreography over the weekend and went into this three-hour trial well-prepared.  Generally, I think I did pretty well even though my lesson plan seemed a bit too difficult for the various levels I was teaching; my interpretation of intermediate and advance-beginner was a bit too ‘anspruchsvoll’.  Regardless, I had a blast and learned a lot from the experience.

That following Friday, I was invited to participate in a pet project of my tap instructor – one in which a MIDI-keyboard-concept is built into a raised tap platform, and the performer can tap out a ‘sick beat’.  While the tap choreography was exciting and challenging (i.e., I was slow in learning it), I have no experience with drums nor laying drum tracks.  During this initial rehearsal, the three of us were to rotate to this platform and perform a drum solo while the other two maintained a beat (note there are also music loops playing in the background).  Saying that my solos were an embarrassment would be an understatement.  It was suggested that each of us determine our own sound layout so that each performance is unique, I easily landed on the idea of sad trombones and fart sounds.

Baking Exploits

I have successfully started my second bakery internship, but I will leave that full story for another, more-comprehensive post.  The father-son baking duo have been very kind, and I have been overwhelmed with new information – especially dough types: Blätterteig, Plunderteig, and Mürbteig.  The father has been learning accordion in his retirement and invited me to hang out with him and his buddies last Saturday, but he was very clear: I am told to bring my ukulele.

Again, given that it was still this holiday period, the attendance was reported as low with just four of us.  The 70-year-old baker, his slightly younger cousin, an 82-year-old guy, and I drank beer, played/sang German folks songs, drank schnapps, and told stories.  There were amazing stories of times guarding the border between East and West Germany – how the new directive at the time stated that they could no longer shoot escapees.  I was informed eight people escaped in the year of his time at the border.  A electric, barbed-wire fence was built shortly thereafter.

But the older gentleman talked about his childhood as a Hitler Youth, which was only for a couple months right before the war ended.  He told me very sobering stories of an air raid that occurred when he was bringing lunch to his father; a stranger opened her front door and yelled for him to come inside immediately.  He witnessed a woman strafed in the streets: “I’ve seen a lot of death.”  He said offhandedly that it was probably American planes, but then offered that it may have been the British when he saw the color drain from my face.  Such a different world; such a life to live.  I’ve been asked to return next week.  I am told to bring my ukulele.

I did have the opportunity to visit the folks at my first bakery internship last week; I wanted to tell them about what I was learning.  Unfortunately, they misunderstood my intent and claimed that I could have learned these concept there were I had asked.  Smoothing over my foot-in-mouth, we had a good time catching up; there was nothing new with them.

Being back in Tambach-Dietharz, I used the opportunity to meet up with someone who had asked me to represent the USA at a Christmas event in December; I needed to get more details and dates.  He told me that I would be performing on December 2, that I would be playing the ukulele (it’s a good thing I brought this instrument), and that he would like to have a rehearsal soon – Wednesday, in fact.

Singing Antics

Yesterday, I found myself with my ukulele performing Christmas songs in a very nice living room of a kind, older couple.  The original request was that I sing songs that were “American”.  So naturally, I gravitated to some of my favorites, namely “Sleigh Ride”.  I had learned and practiced that song for the past couple days in preparation.  I played it for them and received a resounding ‘no’.  That would not do because no one would recognize it.  Apparently, we had a misunderstanding of the assignment.

The goal was to have me play my ukulele and another gentleman accompany me on the button accordion.  Unfortunately, his accordion is only capable of playing in the keys of C and F.  So, any fancy chord progressions are also out; there goes “All I Want For Christmas”.  Honestly, it was kind of a mess; but we were able to land on “Jingle Bells”, “O, Christmas Tree”, “Silent Night”, and “O Holy Night”.  The middle two were stolen from the Germans, so they thought that may be a good bridge.  The person organizing it then asked if he could give my name to some others in Tambach that may be looking for someone to sing songs in English in November.  I agreed to giving them my contact information.  I am told to bring my ukulele.

Someone from my theatre class asked me to join her for her weekly voice lesson; she wanted to try out a duet.  Open to new excitement, I agreed and found myself in some guy’s spare room in his apartment.  She did her vocal warm-ups and sang a bit.  I was then asked to sing something (without a warm-up); “Yesterday” was suggested.  She then sang again, and then we ended with a duet… which was “Yesterday” sung as a double-solo.  I was confused; perhaps something was lost in translation.

After the lesson, the three of us talked and I mentioned that I could have brought my ukulele and sung a couple other songs in English.  The instructor then gave me his card and said that I should send him some song titles, things that I like to sing.  He makes the rounds playing at senior homes; he suggested that I join him at some point.  I am told to bring my ukulele.

Theatrical Feats

The theatre group continues to push forward toward our revue on November 2.  The guy directing the show seems to have quite a few ancillary projects.  This director was the one who had organized the Women’s March short film tribute in which I participated a couple weeks ago.  This week I found myself participating in shooting a photo spread (and short film snippets) that honors the Bauhaus Museum in Weimar.  This museum is in the process of moving from a small central building to a new construction closer to the train station.  A photographer has a vision to document this transition with not only photos of the structures, but also with various characters.

So, I find myself in brightly colored clothing, waltzing in the town square while a Syrian dances lyrically to a guitarist in a Superman costume; a princess dances mechanically nearby.  I have decided that not necessarily seeing the vision should not preclude me from participating.  That said, I had a great time.  I have been asked to return next week; we are doing the same but at the construction site and in the unfinished building.

The moral of this story is to remain open to all new opportunities, and bring your ukulele.