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2006

“True glory consists of doing what deserves to be written, and writing what deserves to be read”. -Pliny the Elder

My life is anything but glorious, but I’ll write about it anyway.

2006 for me began in Berlin, Germany and ended in New York City, New York, USA.  All in all I think it was a pretty good year.  I feel like I accomplished quite a bit, I learned how to ski (in the Alps no less). I finished work on my bachelor of science in Computer Science, completed my Bierdiplom and have begun working on my master of science in computer science.  I went to a German soccer game (no one does it quite like the europeans) as well as seeing a few of the World Cup games in their host cities (including the final in Berlin) and even caught the prologue to the Tour de France.  I saw some some great bands live: Death Cab for Cutie, Thrice, Metric, and was minutes away from seeing Amon Tobin.  I saw Paris, Rome, Berlin, Dublin, Belfast, New York, Munich, and Boston.  I became a better biker and runner, completing my first marathon.

My move to Boston was probably one of the most hectic periods of my life.  I flew to Logan international with three suitcases containing everything I could possibly cram into them (including an inflatable mattress) with the hopes of finding a permanent residence in Beantown.  I schlepped my luggage on two different subway lines and on one bus.  After missing my stop, I rode the route around again and finally got off and found my hostel in Everett, MA.  I had a four bed dorm which, over the course of a week, I shared with an Uzbekistanian, a Korean, a Japanese person, a Turk, an American returning from a year in Ireland, a Brit, and a couple other people who stumbled into the room at 3am and left the next morning without saying a word.  My days were spent going from appointment to appointment with various realtors where, although I didn’t find any apartment that suited my budget, I learned that I never want to rent an apartment through a realtor.  In the evenings I would scour craigslist for postings in and around Boston, and set up appointments with as many people as possible (a few of whom turned out to be really shady).  I eventually settled on my current residence in Allson, MA and have been content with my decision since.

My first semester of classes at Northeastern proceeded without incident.  I took courses in Networking and Computer Systems, and I’m now ready to face my second semester as a graduate student.

I rang in the new year at a party in Brooklyn with an old roommate and good friend, Peter, and his girlfriend Anna.  The party was in Loft apartments just across the Manhattan bridge giving us a clear view of the island and at midnight everyone at the party clustered around the windows to catch a glimpse of the city lit up from fireworks.

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3:42:03

42.195 km or 26.22 miles is the distance that the IAAF set as the standard distance for a marathon in 1921. The term “marathon” comes from the decisive Battle of Marathon where the Athenian hoplites numbering around 4,000 miraculously defeated an invading Persian army of between 20,000 and 60,000 infantry and cavalry. According to legend, the soldier Pheidippides ran from the battlefield to the city of Athens to inform the citizens of the extraordinary victory where, moments after proclaiming victory, he dropped dead.

Wes and I began running together sometime in October, and as any runner knows it’s much easier to motivate yourself to get out there and run regularly when you have a race or some kind of even that you are preparing for. I suggested that we find some kind of race in or around Bamberg that would lend some kind of legitimacy to our training. Wes being the ambitions overachiever that he is went out and found the König-Ludwig-Marathon in Füssen and when he mentioned this to me I thought to myself, “Haha, marathon. That’s funny.” Although I never really thought of myself as being able to run one of those we continued to train, and train. Through the unusually cold winter that Germany had that year (and the coldest winter of my life) we continued to train. We even suckered Andrew into going along with the marathon idea. As the marathon got closer I went through periods of feeling totally unprepared and periods of thinking that I might actually be able to do this.

The time came, we all registered and Susan found us a sweet Gasthaus just outside Füssen. Mark, Meredith, Jen and Monika were also awesome enough to make the trek all the way to the tip of southern Germany to cheer us on. The morning of the race Andrew and I met Wes at the starting line and I remember looking around at all of the runners wearing shirts from other marathons and thinking to myself “what have I gotten myself into?” The gun went off and due to the volume of runners we had to wait a few moments before we actually started moving and then a few more before we crossed the starting line. Initially Andrew, Wes and I tried to stay together but we inevitably separated. The weather was perfect for a race, overcast and a bit chilly meaning that I never really poured sweat. Passing watering station after watering station I tried to listen to my body and only grab water when I needed it as to not over hydrate myself. I would even get periodic bursts of energy when I would round a corner and see Mark, Mere, and Jen cheering me on. The course was beautiful, winding around the woods in the foot of the alps, around swan lake and even swinging by the Disney castle Neuschwanstein.
I finished the race in 3 hours 42 minutes and 3 seconds, placing 8th in my group (20-29 year old males) which is something that I am quite proud of. Having completed my first marathon I genuinely look forward to the next and the next. I consider the König-Ludwig-Marathon my second greatest accomplishment of my sojourn in Germany, and Mark, Meredith, Jen, Wes and Andrew the best friends anyone could have.

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Weltmeisterschaft

For the month of July the whole world converged on Germany to watch nations from every continent (except Antarctica) compete for a golden cup. Even non soccer fans (like yours truly) got carried away in a month long tempest of flag waving, face painting and beer drinking. From the opening game to the finale, the world cup was an unforgettable journey and I couldn’t imagine being anywhere else in the world for those 31 days.

On the opening day of the world cup a small group of us went to Real to get some face paint and goofy looking hats and other such gear all with the colors black, red and gold… along with a couple cases of beer. The city of Bamberg was showing the Germany game in Markusplatz, a large square just outside of the exchange department building. Unfortunately we got to the square too late to see the screen very well, so after 10 minutes we went back to Andy’s place to watch the game on his television.

Each of the cities hosting a world cup game had a designated FIFA fan area, usually right outside the stadium. This was for fans who wanted to be nearby but couldn’t afford entrance to the game. The nearest of the host cities to Bamberg was Nuremberg, a short 40 minute train ride away. A weekend that most of us were free, we decided to check out the Fan Fest to see exactly what it had to offer. When we stepped off the train it was clear that something big was going on, Nuremberg was more alive than I had ever seen the city, with drunken, painted, and half naked soccer fans all over the place. The Fan Fest was equally as hectic and the English soccer fans lived up to their reputation. The game was exciting, full of tense moments and even a bit of cheating and although I was rooting for Trinidad, I had a good time. The rest of the evening was spent wrangling the more drunken members of the group and slowly moving everyone back to downtown Nuremberg Getting everyone onto a train gave me a bit of a headache, but the train ride back was pleasant; all the drunk people passed out and James and I chatted with the German woman who sat next to us.

I watched most of the remaining games either in Andy’s apartment or bars. As teams filtered out, Germany remained strong. Jen and Mark were even throwing around the idea of heading to Berlin for the final. I and several others jumped on board so we checked into it and it seemed as though renting a car would be the best option to get there. I mentioned this to my roommate, Wolfgang, and he mentioned that he might be able to get his family’s van which had just enough room for all of us to get there. He also spoke with his cousin, who lived in Berlin, and she promised places to sleep to those who wanted to sleep. Everything was looking good, and then Italy messed it up. When Italy knocked Germany out in the Semi-Final game suddenly no one wanted to go to Berlin anymore, myself included. Unfortunately, I had to break the news to my roommate that after all he had organized that we didn’t want to go to Berlin anymore. He was devastated, this was probably the only time the world cup would be in Germany during his lifetime and he hadn’t yet been to a Fan Fest. I felt sorry for him so I agreed to go with him if he still wanted to go.

The others rented a car and left for Saltzburg, while my roommate and I hopped an ICE to Berlin. We made our way to the Fan Meile in Berlin between the Brandenburger Gate and the Siegesaeule where we watched Germany soundly defeat Portugal securing themselves third place. The next day we made it to the Fan Meile as early as we could so that we could get a spot to see the German national team. After listening to Sportfreunde Stiller play their newly adapted “’54 ‘74 ‘90 2010,” the German national soccer team came out to thank the fans for supporting them through the 2006 world cup. Xavier Nadoo also sang a slightly modified version of “Dieser Weg” with David Odonkor and some of the other team members singing along.

The rest of the day was spent wandering around Berlin looking at touristy things. I was finally able to go up into the Reichstag, something I didn’t get a chance to do the last time I was in Berlin. That evening we watched the France/Italy game and due to the fact that Italy was responsible for the fact that Germany was not in the Final, and because of the way that Italy had played against the US I shouted “Alle lez bleus!” for most of the evening (with all apologies to my Italian friends). With the World Cup officially over, Wolfgang and I caught the ICE back to Bamberg.