Farewell Europe

As we prepare for our flight to Zambia this afternoon, we find ourselves reflecting on the past four months (has it really only been that long?! It feels like much, much longer) and everything we've done up to this point. We've seen incredible places, met countless wonderful people, experienced and learned so much. Looking back on it now, it's hard to believe that our European adventure actually happened, that we won't wake up in our own bed tomorrow and realize it was all just a dream.

When we started this trip back in September we had a vague idea of what we might gain from traveling. Now we realize we didn't have a clue what was really in store for us- as Americans, as information addicts, as a couple, as human beings. It's obvious that the effect of this trip on our lives has already been profound, and we realize now more than ever, that we're only just getting started. 

We want to take a moment here to acknowledge, and to offer our most sincere appreciation to everyone who--up to this point--has played a role in making this incredible experience possible for us:

Mark and Lucy in London

Victoria in Sheffield

Liz, Greg, and Frankie in Liverpool

Mateo and his friendly flatmates in Granada

Roberto and Geraldine in Marbella 

Luis, Manuel, and Pablo in Sevilla

All the staff and guests at the Garden Backpacker in Sevilla

Emmanuel and his friends in Marseille (and Daryl, too!)

Jerome and the rest of the amazing couchsurfing community in Aix

The staff and guests at our hostel in Roma (especially Melissa, Chelsea, and Stephanie from Canada, and Anna and JP from Mexico)

My lovely Mamma in Florence

Becca and Kaitlyn in Florence (and Rome, and Venice...)

Maggie, Alex, Dimitra, Sylvia, Moe, Stephanie and the rest of the gang in Esbjerg

Lars in Copenhagen

Theo in Amsterdam

Claudia, Inge, Martin, and Matthias in Dreieich

Thank you all for opening your homes to us, for sharing conversation, for the meals, the drinks, the laughs- it wouldn't have been the same adventure without you, and we are so, SO grateful!

And a very special-extra-big THANK YOU to our wonderful families back home who continue to support us in more ways than we can count.

And now, Chapter 2...

Yuletide Treats and Traditions

One afternoon, when we were in Copenhagen, we went to the store to pick up some groceries and drinks for an evening meal at our host's house. We walked the isles, as usual, trying to determine what everything was and find the things we needed (or appropriate substitues for them). Once we'd found all of our dinner ingredients, we wandered over to the beer isle. In Denmark in general things are quite expensive, so as usual, we were hunting for the best deal. We agreed on a 6 pack of what looked to us like a seasonal holiday beer--perhaps it was a porter or a stout but we couldn't tell for sure as neither of us reads Danish. Its appearance reminded us of something that might come out of a microbrewery back home around this time of year. In any case, it cost about half as much as anything else on the shelf- a great bargain!

When we returned to the apartment, we began making dinner. As we often do while cooking, we each cracked open a bottle. It was like sipping on a soda, mixed with several tablespoons of honey and artificial "Christmas flavor." If you could manage to discern even the slightest taste of beer, you'd be lucky. What was this awful stuff?! 

When we examined the bottles closer (something that, in retrospect, we probably should have done before we bought them) we realized that this "beer" contained almost no alcohol- a mere 1.7%. Okay, so we'd accidentally bought the Danish equivalent of "O'Doul's", but why on earth was it so sweet and syrupy?? Who could possibly want to drink this stuff?

When our host, Lars, returned home from work, he noticed our open beers, chuckled a bit, and asked what we thought of them. When we told him how terrible they were, and that we'd only gotten them because they were cheap, he offered an explanation. "These beers are for Santa", he said. You see, Danish parents tell their children that this particular beer is the one that Santa likes, and so children all over Denmark leave it out for him on Christmas Eve, along with a bowl of risengrød (rice pudding). Of course, kids want to taste the special Santa beer, which is why it's sweet and non-alcoholic. 

Hanging at the Christmas market in Dreieich

We got a pretty big kick out of this. It had never crossed our minds that Santa might prefer something other than our traditional milk and cookies. This prompted me to do a little research and find out what people in other places around the world tell their children that Santa likes. As it turns out, Santa only prefers milk and cookies when he's visiting the U.S. and Canada.

I learned that in Germany, children leave letters, not cookies, for Santa (or rather the German equivilent, "Christkind"-- a white-robed, present-bearing figure). In France, instead of leaving cookies for Père Noël, children fill their shoes with carrots for his donkey, Gui. Dutch children, too, leave out carrots, hay and a bowl of water for Sinterklaas' horse. 

Sean helping to set up the nativity scene.

The Australians and Brits figure Santa needs something a bit hardier than milk and cookies to sustain him through his long night, so the children there leave out sherry and mince pies. Also, British children, instead of mailing their Christmas lists, throw them in the fire and "Father Christmas" reads the smoke to learn what they are wishing for. In Ireland, Santa can expect more mince pies, but there he'll get to wash them down with (but of course!) a nice tall glass of Guinness. In Sweden, Santa can look forward to a hot cup of coffee. 

In Chile, Viejo Pascuero (Old Man Christmas) is greeted with a traditional Chilean "pan de pascua", a sponge cake flavored with ginger and honey and full of candied fruit. In Kenya, a child might save Santa a bit of roasted goat, which is the traditional Kenyan Christmas dinner. If you live in Argentina, Santa might stop for a break in your kitchen and have some "sidra"-- an alcoholic apple cider which is used for toasting on Christmas Eve. 

The Biens have their own traditions, too. Like many Germans, throughout the month of December, they progressively light 4 advent candles, adding a new one on each Sunday leading up to Christmas. Once the 4th candle is lit, that's when they can put up their tree--rather late in the month by our US standards. On Saturday (okay, one day early wont hurt anybody) we helped to trim the tree and set out the manger. 

Every Christmas for many years, Inge has made these special little angels. Each is a one-of-a-kind, hand-sewn labor of love, taking someone with practice around 3 hours to make! They use them to decorate their tree, and very rarely as gifts (because, well, after 3 hours of cutting, sewing, and shaping you've become quite attached to the little things). My family was lucky enough to receive one of these special decorations in the mail the year that Claudia lived with us, and it has hung on our tree every year since. This Christmas, I was lucky enough to get a lesson on how they're made.

Claudia, Inge and I working on our angels (Sean decided to pass- crafts aren't really his thing)

Three or so long hours later, my finished angel :) 

I find it fascinating that traditions surrounding Christmas are so varied in different places... that people who believe essentially the same thing, and celebrate the same holiday, have invented so many different stories about it, have so many different ways of celebrating it. 

Although it's difficult to be away from our families during the holidays, and we can't help but miss our own traditions a little bit, it's wonderful to get to experience what Christmas is like in another country (a first for us both) and learn a little bit about how people celebrate around the world. 

Merry Christmas, Joyeux Noël, Feliz Navidad, Fröhliche Weihnachten, God Jul, Buone Feste Natalizie, and Zalig Kerstfeast, Everyone!

Jenna and Sean

Divine Times

The Duomo of Florence, Italy

There are a couple of things that motivate me now to write about the churches of Europe, which have been a constant source of awe for me throughout our travels here.  The first is that the rapidly approaching holiday provides me constant reminders of Europe's long history as a land where the "Great Mother Church" held sway over the vast majority of social life, political thought, policy, education, music, art, ethics and philosophy.  The other reason is that now that our time in Europe is up, I have a comprehensive list of churches, abbeys, basilicas, duomos, baptisteries and crypts from which to draw experience.

Michelangelo's Moses, Church of San Pietro in Vincoli, Rome

Anyone who has visited such places as the great Duomo of Florence, the church of Santa Croce, St. Peter's Basilica and Marsielle's Notre Dame de le Garde knows that one thing they share is their absolutely overwhelming size.  Vaulted arches soaring hundreds of feet overhead, columns the width of a car, naves that would dwarf the entirety of most whole churches I have seen back home--these are what strike the observer first.  These breathtaking edifices serve as testaments to the ingenuity, skill, enormous effort and almost inhuman determination that the belief in the Church, in God--and the need to glorify Him--inspired.

Málaga Cathedral, Spain

Málaga Cathedral, Spain

I believe the story of these churches--their architects, builders, political benefactors and rivals, the artists who created the frescoes, crucifixes, statues and massive paintings--tells us something about the human need to believe in some higher power, some divine source.  And, as was especially the case throughout the Middle Ages and early Renaissance, how the lack of other, scientific explanations for natural phenomena served to propel massive numbers of the populace to devote their whole lives to the search for and the glorification of the "unseen Divine."

York Minster, England

York Minster

Of course, the enormous power held by the church at the time inevitably gave rise to countless individuals in the upper reaches of the church's hierarchy taking advantage of that power in order to further their own aims.  The church of the middle ages became a massive beast of bureaucracy, almost comically corrupt, where cardinals could reign as tyrannical despots and papal inquisitors tortured and killed in the name of the eradication of heresy.  The church, with all its enormous wealth, became a political institution as much as a religious one, along with all the trappings that inevitably ensue when religion becomes so entrenched in politics.

Michelangelo's Pietá, St. Peter's Basilica, Rome

The church now found it necessary to maintain both its political viability and its unquestioned authority on all religious doctrine.  This is one reason that so much of the art of the period was relegated to strictly religious themes--another being that the church was one of the very few institutions that could afford to pay for such art.  The artists of the period could only reach greatness if they bent to the will of the church--accepting its commissions as well as its restrictions.   The frescos, pietás, madonnas, sculpted cherubim, paintings, reliquaries, the gilded tombs of martyred saints, the towering domes--these were the great masterpieces that adorned the holy places.  And the epic scope and awe-inspiring beauty of such works illustrates an attempt to simultaneously become closer to God, and to separate Him from the mundane, everyday life of the populace.  After all, how could the church maintain it's unquestioned authority if an individual believed God was attainable through ordinary means, through simplicity, even through poverty?

Notre Dame de la Garde, Marseille

Whenever I encounter one of these places, I experience a curious mix of emotions--awe, inspiration, humility, as well as an uncomfortable awareness of the irony of having so much opulence openly displayed within a church whose founding principles included the righteousness of poverty.  I try to imagine Jesus preaching to the faithful from the pulpit of these places, and the idea seems preposterous to me.

Sevilla Cathedral, Spain

Choir and ceiling of the Málaga Cathedral, Spain

Ceiling of the Baptistery, Florence

But, whether one sees European churches as ironic and unseemly displays of vast and unjustly-earned wealth, or as holy places of unequaled beauty--or, as is my case, something in between--it cannot be disputed that these place demonstrate with awesome clarity the power of humanity's faith, intellect and spirit.

~Sean

German Hospitality

When I was in high school, my family hosted an exchange student from Germany. Her name was Claudia, and we spent a lot of time together during the four months she lived with us. Thanks to Facebook, we have stayed in touch, and I was even able to visit her and her family in Germany when I studied in France.

When we began planning our trip, I contacted her and asked if we might possibly impose on her family for Christmas. We've been very fortunate thus far to have been welcomed into the homes of numerous friends as well as strangers across Europe, but finding someone whom we could visit during a time that's usually reseved for family was especially tricky.

Claudia and her mom, Inge, welcomed us with open arms at the train station when we arrived. Since then, we have been made to feel like both honored guests and part of the family at the same time. We have been enjoying delicious home-cooked meals as well as guided tours around Hessen, the German state where they live.

On Saturday -our first full day here- Claudia and her dad, Martin, took us to visit the town of Speyer which is about an hour away by car. On the way, we stopped at one of Martin's favorite tasting rooms and sampled some of Germany's well known Reisling wines.

The area around Frankfurt and to the south is loaded with vineyards. Most grow white wine grapes, but some grow red. After a few quick tastes, we got back in the car and continued towards Speyer. In order to get there, we had to drive through a handful of small, picturesque German towns and a bit of wine country. I was charmed by the colorful houses and peaceful country-side.

Claudia mentioned that they received a good amount of snow last week, and lamented that we had missed it (they're predicting above freezing temps here through Christmas), but there was still evidence of the storm in the barren woods along the sides of the road. The multitudes of orange-brown leaves still clinging in the trees combined with the bit of leftover snow gave the impression that the forest was trapped between seasons.

Once in Speyer we began our tour at the cathedral- one of the largest and most significant Romanesque edifices in Germany. It was built by the emperors and designated to be their last resting place as a symbol of their power. The crypt, therefore, is of special interest as it contains the remains of eight German emperors and kings, four queens, and a number of bishops.

Just outside of the cathedral we found the first of many Christmas markets to visit in the area. We walked down the row of small wooden stands, all decorated to perfection with lights and garland, and each selling a different product specific to the holiday season. Candles, porcelain houses, sweets, trinkets, dishes, chocolate, and any number of other gift-y sorts of things are available for purchase in these quaint, picturesque markets all over Europe, but Germany is especially well known for having the largest, most diverse and most beautiful Christmas markets. On this day, we stopped and enjoyed some mugs of "Glühwein" (hot mulled wine, usually with a bit of sugar and maybe some spices added) being served from one of the many cheery carts offering it. This special drink, which is only available during the cold holiday season, is usually served steaming hot in a porcelain mug which requires a deposit, and which must be given back to the stand it was borrowed from after it's been emptied.

Once we'd had our fill of the Christmas market, Martin lead us up the street to a restaurant where we enjoyed a lovely lunch. Sean- the braver eater of the two of us- went for a traditional German dish of saumagen, bratwurst and sauerkraut, while I stuck with the more familiar, but delicious looking salad with chicken breast. The food here has been fantastic and plentiful and we have been finding ourselves indulging a bit these last few days- not only because it's the holidays, but also because we know we won't be able to get 90% of these (relatively) familiar things for the next 6 months in Africa or Asia.

After lunch we left Speyer and continued on to Heidelberg. This riverside town is the home of the oldest university in Germany (founded in 1386), and also boasts one of it's many beautiful castles. We began by visiting the castle, which sits up on a hill overlooking the town and the river below. The sun was setting when we arrived, and the dimming light made the colorful houses appear even more vibrant as the sunset painted the cloudy sky above a distant horizon.

After enjoying the view from the castle's patio, we ducked inside to see what else it had to offer. We found several humongous barrels- all larger than any I had ever seen and each one larger than the one before it- which we were told had been built to hold massive quantities of wine. At one point, we walked up a set of stairs, and onto a deck and found ourselves standing on top of the largest wine barrel in the world; with a 6 meter diameter, it holds a mere 220,000 liters (or 58,000 gallons) of wine. The staircase and deck were built many years ago to encourage partying, drinking, and dancing atop the barrel.

From the castle, we could also see the lights of Christmas market #2 twinkling across a ravine, but decided to pass this one by as we had plans to visit several others in the coming days.

We had planned to do a bit of walking through Heidelberg, but had a terrible time trying to find parking due to the hordes of people flooding the town on a Saturday evening. We opted for a quick drive-by viewing instead, and then headed back. That evening, we went out in Frankfurt with Claudia and a couple of her friends. She took us to a bar that she frequents in Sachsenhausen, an old neighborhood in Frankfurt which is well known for it's trendy-ness and bar-hopping atmosphere. There, we enjoyed games and conversation with the small group, and had fun tasting apple wine (an infamous Frankfurt favorite) and cola-beer (exactly what it sounds like).

On Sunday, we relaxed a bit and booked some flights for the next legs of our trip (coming up: Zambia and Tanzania followed by Malaysia and Indonesia!) and then walked with Claudia and Inge to Christmas market #3 in their little town of Dreieichenhain. This market's booths were scattered throughout the old castle area which stands at the center of the town. Dreieichenhain consists not only of the remains of the old castle, but also a number of houses and shops built in the "Fachwerkhaus" style (a half-timbered style of building where the supporting structure is made of wood and filled with brick, clay, or plaster and the beams left exposed).

Inge explaining to us about "Fachwerkhaus" with some examples in the background

We wandered through the market and the castle, sipping glühwein and eating as much delicious German food as we possibly could (our hosts insisted we must have at least a little more room to try just about every kind of food we came across). We half joked that they were trying to 'fatten us up' before we go to Africa, but the way the week is panning out, I wont be the least bit surprised if that ends up being true. Before we left, we met up with Inge's friend Stephanie who has one of the sweetest dogs I've ever met- Molly. Though the booths seemed never-ending to us--especially the ones serving food we just had to try (I mean, seriously? There's MORE?!)-- they insisted that this was a small market, and "Just wait till you see the one in Frankfurt!"

On Monday Claudia accompanied us on the train into Frankfurt where we were able to submit some visa applications at the Thai consulate. After that, we followed the directions she had given us to, that's right, Christmas market #4, and sure enough, it was bigger. Not only did we not see the whole thing, I don't think we could visit every booth there even if we were inclined to spend three days trying. We walked around for a while and picked up a few small souvenirs and tchotchskes, enjoyed a nice bratwurst for lunch, and resisted the glühwein. Then we caught the train back towards Dreieich and enjoyed a quiet evening at "home."

Am✮dam

We left Copenhagen on Saturday evening, catching an overnight bus to our next destination: Amsterdam. The bus, which was due into Amsterdam at 6AM the following morning was scheduled to take 14 hours. It stopped repeatedly throughout the night, each time with the driver getting on the loud speaker and announcing something in German, and still somehow managed to drop us off an hour early at the Amsterdam station. Normally, it would be getting in late that we'd be worried about, but it being a Sunday, the metro wouldn't start running until 7:45, so we couldn't head to our next host's house until then. We wandered around like zombies, first through the bus station we'd been dropped off at, and then through the slightly larger, but no less sleepy train station we found our way to. Every bench in both of these locations was occupied with travelers like ourselves who had been unfortunate enough to find themselves arriving before the city woke up. We plopped our packs down against a wall and did our best not to watch the clock.

When the trains finally started running, we followed the directions of our couchsurfing host, Theo, and hopped on the metro towards "Gazenhoef." He welcomed us at the station, fed us breakfast, and then suggested we take a nap for a while, we must be tired. We graciously accepted and crashed for a good couple hours, after which Theo offered to take us out and give us a tour of the city. We walked back to the station (had we really just been here this morning?? It felt like another lifetime) and caught another metro back into the city center. Theo took us all around, pointing out interesting locations and "showing us the ropes," along with a few of his favorite spots.

One of the places he took us to was called Begijhog and is one of the most beautiful parts of the city we've seen. It is one of the oldest inner courts in the city and used to be a Beguinage--a collection of buildings used to house women who sought to serve God but without retiring from the world and without taking oaths. Today it is still a beautiful courtyard area and contains two functioning churches as well as the oldest (c.1528) of only two remaining wooden houses in Amsterdam. The houses there are still only rented out to females, who often must wait as long as 20 years for a space to come up.

The following day, we set off on our own to explore more of the city. Amsterdam is famous across the globe for it's liberal atmosphere--in particular it's "coffee shops" and it's Red Light District-- but what we found was that it has so much more to offer. The city itself is stunning with it's concentric canals, charming Dutch style buildings, and floating houseboats and restaurants. It is as overrun with bicycles as with positive, friendly people, and feels generally lighthearted and fun. I can safely say that Amsterdam is the first city we've visited on our trip that comes close to tempting me away from Portland. Don't worry, we're far from putting down any roots here, but with it's mild climate, strong Montessori community, and overall good vibes, it's a place I could definitely see myself living down the road (or perhaps in some alternate universe).



Tuesday we got up and out (relatively) early in order to catch a free lunchtime rehearsal performance at the Muziektheater. We've gotten in the habit while traveling on our strict budget to Google 'free things to do' in each city we go to, which has provided us with some fantastic "off the beaten path" experiences. This was one of them. We arrived at the theater about 20 minutes before the 12:30 show to find a long line of people waiting in the lobby. When the doors opened, we found some seats in the quickly filling make-shift theater and then settled in to enjoy the show, which consisted of about 5 pieces played by a clarinetist backed by a piano. It was a lovely and extremely impressive performance. Afterward, I received a bit of a 'music theory' lesson from Sean who willingly (and patiently) answered the questions that had been raised for me-- Why didn't everyone clap between all of the songs? What's a "movement"? And what was that other guy sitting there for? Lately I've found myself learning a great deal more than I've ever known about music, and have been enjoying that 'extra bonus' information that I hadn't anticipated getting while traveling.

In the afternoon we found our way into a chess museum- another of the "free things to do" we had come across online. Upon our arrival, an exceptionally friendly older gentleman who spoke quite good English welcomed us enthusiastically and offered to give us a tour. The approximately forty minute private tour that followed was one of the quirkiest things we've experienced to date and the information it contained, perhaps some of the most obscure. That being said, we were overwhelmed by the kindness of our guide and amazed by his knowledge on the subject. When the tour ended, he insisted on giving us a rubber-banded set of postcards as a 'gift' for having visited the museum (we could tell not all that many people did) and offered us a hot drink. We declined but asked if it would be alright if we sat and played a game. I hadn't touched a chess set in years; Sean plays every now and again against the computer. There were some tense moments, but in the end, Sean was victorious.

Some guys playing on the "giant chess board" outside the museum.

As it started getting dark, we headed for the public library, which we'd heard offered a great view from its tenth story balcony. Immediately on entering, we realized it wasn't your typical library. It was modern, almost futuristic, and downright massive. We rode the escalators up past floor after floor of bookshelves, computer desks, couches and displays. When we finally reached the top, we found there was a large cafe serving dinner in addition to warm drinks and snacks. The balcony, to our disappointment, was closed, and apparently only open during the summer season. We peered out the windows anyways and caught glimpses of the city skyline through the reflections. As we began our descent we noticed a variety of art exhibitions on display throughout the library.

There was a wall of different colored pieces of socks (guess which one I liked best) and a collection of nude photographs, as well as a room full of all different styles of felted wool art. I especially enjoyed this section as felting is something I was recently introduced to by my aunt. The exhibition showed the whole process of shearing, scouring, carding, and spinning, and contained many examples of wool through different stages of the process.

That evening, after returning to Theo's and enjoying a great meal with him, we went out to a Latin Jazz show at a local joint. It was a great time. The band sounded a lot like our friend's band (Melao de Cuba) back in Portland and the venue, coincidentally, reminded us a great deal of Mississippi Pizza-- a place where they often play. There were even a couple of people salsa dancing between the crowded tables.

On Wednesday we set off to find some 'thank you' gifts for our current and upcoming hosts and found ourselves wandering first through the floating flower market and then through the main shopping district looking for just the right things. The weather was nice--clear and not too cold-- and we enjoyed being out and about.