B is for Bratwurst

I've always wanted to wake up and find a beautiful woman in the kitchen, making me breakfast wearing nothing but a cute pair of cotton hipster panties and maybe one of my t-shirts.

On day two in Germany, I awoke in Sandy's living room and saw her standing in the kitchen, buttering my bread and scrambling my eggs.  She had prepared a classic German breakfast for us to enjoy, complete with a brilliant selection or meat, cheese, fruit, eggs and of course rolls (Germans LOVE their rolls).  It was absolutely delicious and a brilliant change from my usual stale bagel and generic-brand cream cheese.  It was only the start of my first full day in Germany and I was already in love with German beer and German food.  After refueling, I showered up and we set out to conquer Leipzig in a day.

We walked through a beautiful park, past the Leipzig Zoo and into the city centre.  We took some snapshots along the way and Sandy proved to be the perfect tour guide, answering all of my questions and offering a lot of personal insight.  Sandy is from East Germany and was about 7 years old when The Wall came down so she remembers what life was like before the fall.  I was absolutely fascinated to hear a first hand account about such an important time in history and amazed to learn some of the realities of living in a socialist/communist state.  It is incredible to see how far Eastern Germany has progressed in such a short time.

While we were strolling through downtown I saw a man who looked very familiar.  "Sandy," I whispered, "Is that who I think it is?"  She confirmed that it absolutely was and I have to admit I got a little excited.  I don't get star-struck very often, but when I saw this big-time German celebrity hanging out in the street, I had to take a photo!

After walking around for a couple of hours my stomach started speaking to me.  Surprisingly, in German.  It was saying, "Nur deutsche Lebensmittel zufrieden stellen wird mir jetzt!" I had "the hunger"- and only authentic German cuisine could satisfy me.  We stopped at the nearest pretzel shop and I indulged my urges.  

I savoured my salty snack, then Sandy and I hopped on a scenic bus-tour of Leipzig.  We zig-zagged through the streets while our informative, and somewhat manic, tour guide described the historical significance of the buildings we passed in Germanglish (her unique cross between German and English).  At the halfway point, we pulled over and were allowed to dismount the steel horse so that we could get a better look at Völkerschlachtdenkmal (English: The Battle of the Nations Monument).  The monument stands 91m high, making it Europe's biggest, and commemorates one of Napoleon's most decisive defeats in 1813.  The Battle of the Nations was the biggest battle in Europe before World War I and had Germans fighting on both sides.  The statues that surround the top of the monument are meant to represent Germanic heroism, and the whole idea of the monument is that a nation should be united, rather than split into parts that are forced to fight against each other as they were in this battle.  Adolph Hitler twisted and exploited this meaning and gave several speeches from the monument when in Leipzig.

Standing on the same ground where Napoleon fought and Hitler spoke made this the most historically significant place I have ever been.  It's hard to describe the feeling that I had while standing on such infamous ground... it was without a doubt eerie, but it was mixed with a sense of relief.

The last stop on the tour was Thomaskirche, or, St. Thomas Church.  This beautiful church is where Johann Sebastian Bach worked as a cantor for over 25 years until his death.  He played the organ, instructed the choir, taught Latin and composed much of his work during his time in Leipzig.  Bach is honoured with a statue outside the church and his remains are buried beneath the altar.

After the tour, my tummy was making noises again but only half as loud as Sandy's (seriously, it's like she has a rabid dog in her stomach).  Clearly, we were both in need of some German street meat!!!  We found the nearest vendor and ordered up a couple of mouth-watering Bratwursts.  I took my first bite and was in flavour country.  I savoured every morsel of my delicious, piping-hot meat tube and thought to myself, "Germany, I think I might be falling in love with you."

Later on that evening, back at the apartment we decided that tonight was Sandy and Jozef night; some quality time, just the two of us.  Sandy prepared a famous East German gourmet meal called "Student Sauce" for dinner.  Sounds classy doesn't it?  Well, it is!  It's luxurious ingredients include tomato ketchup, cut-up hot dogs and onion... and it was DAMN good!!!  I washed down my Student Sauce with a few Ur Krostitzers (Mmmm beer) and Sandy pounded back a bottle of wine.  With a nice little buzz on we decided to go out for a few drinks.  We had a few at a place called Barcelona and then a few more at a theatre bar called Pilot, for good measure.  Eventually, we stumbled back to Sandy's home and raced up the spiraling staircase of doom.  Sandy claims to have won this athletic contest.  I don't remember the result so we'll just have to assume she cheated.

It was another perfect day in Germany... tomorrow, Berlin!

A is for Arschloch

The alphabet has been good to me:

I've been reading and writing for most of my life.  I've received nourishment from the alphabet in both cereal AND soup form.  One of my favourite television programs growing up, Sesame Street, was almost always brought to me by particular letters of the alphabet.  And on September 25th, 2003, thanks to the endless cosmic-wonder of the alphabet I met a beautiful, young Fräulein named Sandy.  It was Disney contract signing day and we were asked to sit alphabetically by surname.  Jozef KURACINA (that's me!) took a seat next to Sandy KÜHN.

I introduced myself and told her I was from Canada.  She did the same and informed me that she was from Germany.  We got along really well and it turned out that Sandy was housemates with a Canadian girl named Maureen Poon who quickly became one of my best friends in Florida.  Sandy and I had a pretty good friendship too and after our days in the Disney bubble were over we kept in close touch and always talked lightly about seeing each other again one day.  When I decided I was moving to Europe, Sandy was one of the first people I told and we both agreed that I would have to visit Germany right away.  On November 12th that day finally came!  I flew into Altenburg Airport and boarded a coach to Leipzig; the City of Sandy!  We reached our destination and as soon as the bus door opened I dove off the coach, skipping the time consuming use of stairs, flung my bag off to the side and flew into Sandy's arms.

We bought three tickets for the streetcar-- one for me, one for Sandy and one for Sandy's bike-- then headed to Sandy's home.  After climbing somewhere between two and three hundred stairs (spiral stairs!) we made it to the one-bedroom apartment, panting, sweating and feeling a little lightheaded from the altitude.  The apartment is AMAZING!  Wood flooring, white walls with a little bit of colour trim, enough plant-life to make the place feel homey but not jungle-y, and lots of space.  The bathroom has a standup shower with doors that slide together at the corner, which was something I'd never seen before, but that wasn't the most unique thing in Sandy's water closet:

Now, I've seen a few different flushers in my time.  There's the classic handle on the tank that I think we're all familiar with.  I've also seen metal levers, circular buttons on the top of the tank, circular buttons in the wall and automatic flushers.  Sandy has none of these.  Sandy has a box on the wall a couple of feet above the back of the toilet and to flush the toilet you tilt the box.  I must have stood there for a good two or three minutes the first time, trying to figure out how to make the yellow-tinged water go away.  Picture me,  feeling both hands along the wall, trying to find a secret tile that would send my pee down the pipes before realizing that what I thought was the best-placed ventilation fan I've ever seen was actually the flush mechanism.  I think this has been more than an appropriate amount of time to spend writing about flushing a toilet, so let's move on...

After getting a little settled and replenishing the fluids I lost coming up, we set back out for the city. (To a degree, it is much easier to descend hundreds of spiraling stairs but the dizzying effect still exists.) I immediately took a strong liking to the look and feel of Leipzig.  For one thing, there was SPACE-- something I have missed dearly during my time in the confining United Kingdom--  and just about everything looks like it has some history to it which makes even the ugly buildings seem kind of cool.  We wandered around town and in between taking photographs I bombarded Sandy with any question that popped into my head (something she was going to have to get use to).  When we approached our first major street crossing I met a man that would come to be a major part of my German experience... AMPELMÄNNCHEN!!!  He is the little green man that helped me cross the streets of Leipzig safely.  Now, before you start imagining that Germany uses leprechauns for crossing guards, here is a picture of Ampelmännchen:

I took an immediate liking to the little traffic light man and Sandy explained to me that he could only be found in East Germany.  After the Berlin Wall came down they talked about getting rid of Ampelmännchen and replacing him with the standard, boring, "it's-okay-to-walk" man.  But people had grown fond of their little, hatted hero and thanks to public support he still watches over the street-safety of Eastern Germany.

On our way back home we stopped at a little corner-market with doors that open and close the same way Sandy's shower does.  Sandy selected a bottle of "Weißwein" (white wine... you might have figured that out) and I drooled over the selection of "Bier" (beer... how have you made it to this point of the blog if you didn't figure that out?).  It was glorious!  So many delicious looking beers that I had never seen before, like Radeberger, Weltenburger, Ur-Krostitzer, Reudnitzer and many, many more with names that end in "-ger" or "-zer".  In Germany, you don't have to buy an entire case of just one brand;  there are thick plastic crates that you can fill with whatever you want!  I'm sure a lot of people just take a crate of their preferred brew, but I saw this as an opportunity to try many-a-German-beer, so I mix-and-matched my own variety pack.  Not only that, but each bottle is a half-litre!!!  Just as I thought I had rounded out my selection, one more bottle caught my eye.  The very last Altenburger on the shelf...

Yep... they've got naked chicks on their beer.  She would be mine, oh yes, she would be mine.

I paid for my wobbly-pops IN EUROS (that's legal European tender!) and we made our way home.  When we were back inside the entrance-hall of Sandy's building I stopped dead in my tracks, looked down at the crate of twelve half-litre bottles of beer in my hand, then up at the ominous corkscrewing set of steps before me.  Approximately twenty-six minutes and one pee-break later I was back in front of Sandy's apartment door wheezing more than an asthmatic chain-smoker with a chest cold.

We ordered pizza for dinner and decided to watch Beerfest while we ate.  Those of you who know me well will know that Beerfest is pretty much my favourite comedy of all-time.  Those of you who have seen Beerfest will know that it takes the PISS out of Germans.  Sandy had never heard of Beerfest but I have always wanted to watch this movie with someone from Germany so I was very, very excited when she agreed.  I wondered what a native German would think of the ridiculously exagerrated accents, the grossly inaccurate portrayal of modern German fashion and lifestyle, and the perpetuation of German stereotypes.  Canadians enjoy self-deprecating humor and are great at laughing at themselves but not everyone is (Americans, for example).  So, would Sandy find it funny or insulting?  Well, she LOVED it!!!  We were laughing until mozzerella came out our noses!  I tell ya, it doesn't get any better than having a beer and a slice while watching Beerfest with Sandy.

After dinner, some of Sandy's friends came over and the beer caps started to pop off more rapidly.  I introduced myself to each of them as they arrived by saying, "Ich bin Jozef.  Ich bin kein Americana.  Aus Kanada!" (I'm Jozef.  I'm not American.  I'm from Canada!)  They usually laughed in return and said something in German to Sandy.  When people are speaking another language it's a little harder to tell if they are laughing with you or at you, so I would smile along and take another swig of Steinenürlochmargerlitzer, or something like that, and sit back down.  Some of Sandy's friends were a little shy about their English-speaking skills so until the liquid confidence kicked in I had to sit quietly while they conversed in their native tongue at lightning speeds.  You might think that would be a little boring but I thought it was incredible!  I adore languages so it was a very stimulating environment for me.  I sat there and listened intently to conversations I couldn't interpret trying to catch the odd word that flew by.

A little later on I met one of Sandy's friends who is studying to be a French teacher.  I turned on my Français compétences and this time I got to be part of a conversation that no one else could understand.  We had a nice little chat in French and then I met Geli.  Geli was after my heart right from the beginning.  She is beautiful, exotic-looking and Germany's biggest Ben Harper fan.  Her and I talked excitedly about the man and the music for ages.  We swapped stories, talked about our favourite songs, and I told Geli about Ben's new band Relentless 7 and their debut album due in the spring.  Eventually, it was starting to get late and a few of us were a little more hammered than we intended to be so we called it a night.

It was an absolutely PERFECT first day in Germany and it ended with me passing out on the couch.  I wouldn't have had it any other way.

Who taught you those manners?

Canada really must be one of the friendliest countries in the world.  I haven't been to many other countries (yet) but in the handful that I've visited I'd say we Canadians are above and beyond the nicest.  I don't like to generalize because we've got our share of assholes in Canada and I've met some incredibly nice people abroad, but the cultural feel is definitely different.  And often, it just comes down to what I thought was common courtesy.

For example, I often smile and say "hello" or "how's it going?" to strangers.  In the park, on the street, in a café etc.  Over here, I RARELY get a response!  The person will look right at me and then choose not to say anything back!  It stuns me every time.  Another example happened the the other day; a young couple was walking by me and the guy sneezed, quite loudly.  I said, "bless you".  He looked at me, and then kept walking.  I stood there for a moment, a little shocked and then commented to my friends that I couldn't believe he didn't say thank you.  Then I looked down the street towards the couple and I shouted, "YOU SHOULD SAY THANKS!!!  I JUST GAVE YOU A BLESSING!"

But here's the best one:  Yesterday, I went out for drinks with a buddy from work and his friends.  It was a great night and I met a lot of friendly people.  Near the end of the night, we ended up at REFLEX: The 80's Bar for one last drink.  I walked up to the bar and ordered two pints of lager.  While I was waiting for the drinks to be pulled, a couple of nice looking young ladies approached the bar and stood next to me.  I made eye-contact with one, so I said, "Hi, how's it going?"  She replied by sarcastically mocking my Canadian accent and saying "Hi, how's it going?"  The bartender placed the tall glasses of beer in front of me and I handed him some money.  I looked back at the girls and said, "Wow, I'm sorry I bothered you."  Realizing that I really talk like this, the girl's friend asked me where I was from.  After I answered, "Canada", the girl who had just ridiculed me got all excited, touched my arm and asked (in her own Welsh accent), "Ohhh, what's Canada like?" 

I picked up a beer in each hand, looked back at the girls and said, "Polite."  

Then walked away.

A Hallowe'en Miracle!

I LOVE HALLOWE'EN!

Hallowe’en combines two of my favourite things in the whole world:  Dressing up in costume and the consumption of unnatural amounts of alcoholic beverages.

I usually start planning my getup around August.  That’s not an exaggeration.  Anyone can buy a Hallowe’en costume, but it takes time to carefully craft a clever garb.  Costumes that are pieced together with dedication are always the best ones.  Plus, it’s a lot more fun to create something.  I particularly like constructing not only the physical manifestation of a costume, but also the persona to go with it.  Think about all of the people who seem to have put a lot of thought and effort into their costumes, but then act like themselves.  They walk the same, they talk the same.  “There’s Mike dressed as Jack Sparrow,” or “Tom dressed as Batman.”  That’s all well and good, but I’d rather BE Jack Sparrow or Batman.

For the past couple of years I dressed as preexisting characters; Elton John and Edward Scissorhands.  One year I got to be an eccentric, oddly-dressed, makeup clad freakshow, and the other year I was the title character of a Tim Burton film (HA! I kid, I kid. Much love for Elton.) Putting the outfits together were great, but staying in character all night is the really fun part.   And doing so enabled me to win costume contests both years.

This year, the fate of my Hallowe’en celebrations seemed to be in more trouble than the residents of Elm Street.  Having recently moved to a new city in a new country, my funds were limited and my list of friends even more pathetic.  The only spark of hope I had at doing the Monster Mash this October 31st seemed to extinguish when I found out that Jamie and Sarah were going away for the entire weekend.  I decided it was time to accept the fact that there would be no Hallowe'en for Mojo in 2008.

The night before Hallowe'en I was at work and there were a couple of cute girls at one of the tables I was serving.  They asked me about my accent (a frequent question, but one I never get tired of answering... I'm very proud to tell people I'm from Canada, and dispel any assumptions that I might be American).  The girls reacted with a lot of excitement at the mention of my Canuckatude (trademark, Mojo 2008).  They began a series of questions that didn't stop until the blonde one abruptly changed the subject and said, "You have the nicest teeth I've ever seen."  It was kind of an odd, but very sweet compliment.  I bashfully thanked her and excused myself because I think I was turning a little red.

At the end of their meal Laura, the blonde, and Nicole, the brunette, mentioned they were going home to work on their costumes for the next night.  Absolutely gutted, I admitted my love for Hallowe'en was going to go unrequited this year.  Without hesitation, the young ladies invited me to join in their celebrations!  They left me their phone numbers and gave me hugs goodbye.  Like Dr. Frankenstein's monster, MY HALLOWE'EN DREAMS HAD BEEN BROUGHT BACK TO LIFE.  There was only one little problem; with less than 24 hours to party-time I didn't have a costume!

October 31st, 9:00pm.  I finished work and took a seat at the bar.  Within seconds, a fresh pint of Carling was placed before me, compliments of Gethin, the South African bartender.  I pulled out my cheap, plastic pay-as-go mobile and dialed Nicole's number (editor's note: I didn't actually dial her number, I scrolled through the phone's database and selected her name).  She answered the phone, but all I could hear was loud... very loud... music of the techno genre.  We were disconnected, I took a sip of my lager.  A few minutes later I received the following text, "COULDN HEAR U. WE.RE AV BANK STAUNDOU. BONE MEET US!"  I figured Nicole wasn't paying attention to her predictive texting, or was already a few vodka coolers deep.  I wrote back asking for clarification and finished off my first pint as I waited for the reply.

Pint #2 was gone and still no word from Nicole or Laura.  I looked down into the plastic bag at my feet that contained my costume and wondered if I'd ever get to wear it.  At about 11 o'clock the only thing that had changed was my blood/alcohol level.  I noticed a few of my co-workers were just finishing their shift and asked what they were doing tonight.  They all replied that they weren't sure whether they were going to go out or just head home.  I leaped off of my barstool, "LET'S GO OUT!!!!!!"

My enthusiasm won them over quickly and I locked myself in the staff toilet to apply my makeup.  Minutes later, I emerged...

... as a Mountie who has been trampled to death by his horse.  I, along with Jake the vampire, Alice the cat and Sarah the devilette headed up Wind Street.  I was the happiest man in Swansea!  We entered a bar and ordered a round a Jagerbombs.  And thus, a night of mayhem began...

Pint... Beetlejuice... Pint... The Grinch... Fuzzy Navel... Sexy cops... Pint... Large man in same costume as Sarah... Pint... Sexy pirates... Jagerbomb... Sexy construction workers... Sweeney Todd and Mrs. Lovitt... Traffic cone on my head... Kiddie ride outside of supermarket...

I LOVE HALLOWE'EN!