Further Observations of Europe

Since my last post I have been home for a week, celebrating my 30th wedding anniversary, and taking home those three bottles of Ruppertsberger wine. It was a wonderful week, and the wine was surprisingly good, in my opinion.

Also, too, a colleague and I took a two-day trip over the July 4th weekend through southern Germany, western Austria, Liechtenstein, and northern Switzerland, overnighting in the heart of downtown Zurich. Liechtenstein, the fourth smallest nation on earth, is a delightful and charming place, barely 45 square miles and 22,000 citizens, and perhaps another 14,000 additional residents. Surprisingly diverse for such a small nation, it is a parliamentary monarchy boasting a new parliament building, and a beautiful and extensive National Museum. It was there that I learned of a generally unknown bit of World War II history concerning Liechtenstein.

I knew that during the war, the Germans recruited through the SS thousands (perhaps as many as a million!) of foreign soldiers. These troops came from every European nation, and in many cases there were enough to form separate companies, battalions, brigades and even divisions. The largest of these included the Russian Liberation Army (Русская освободительная армия) or POA. Not surprisingly, the Soviets labeled POA soldiers as traitors and at the war's end, POA soldiers were repatriated in accordance with allied agreements. They were tried and sentenced to death or detention in the infamous Gulag prison camps. Several leaders of the POA were tried and hanged in Moscow on August 1, 1946.

Interestingly, Liechtenstein ignored Soviet demands for extradition of a group of POA soldiers who entered Liechtenstein asking for political asylum. Most eventually emigrated to Argentina, though a small handful stayed in the Principality.

Our trip south was exclusively on the world-famous autobahns, the model for America's Interstates. Just as famously, autobahns GENERALLY have no speed limits. The exception is in built-up areas and construction zones. Reunification has soaked up huge amounts of funds, with the rebuilding of the eastern part of Germany leaving much to be neglected in the west. But, now necessary rebuilding and repair is ongoing in the west and construction zones are rampant. So, while shifting into 6th gear at 160km/h (100 mph) in my BMW rental, and holding it steady at 200 was really cool, the speed was frequently cut to 60 and 80 km/h in these zones.

And in Germany, what we refer to as "cloverleaf" are know in Germany as "Dreieck," an exact translation being "Triangle." In both cases, of course, it doesn't matter what shape the junction may be, the name's the same!

One of the things I have attempted here is to learn German. My experience at home has caused me to believe that it is rude to live in a nation and not learn it's language. So, I have endeavored to NOT be "That Guy," and to learn the local lingo. And much like American english, German has many different regional variations. An excellent example is numbers.

For instance, the number 20 can be pronounced three differnt ways that I'm aware of, and I have used all three - zwanzig, zwanzisch, and zwanzid. But, the greatest difficulty I have had is that as soon the German I'm speaking with understands that I am a foreigner trying to learn and speak German, they almost inevitably begin speaking english - "May I help you?" I always smile and continue the conversation in english, thinking, "Yeah, you can help by speaking German so that I can learn!" I have learned to say that I am a foreigner and that my German is poor. I have also tried hard to get the accent correct, too, even being asked once if I was Polish?! I smiled and answered "Amerikaner," to the very quizzical look of the inquirer. Belgians and Swiss kindly spoke German or English to me, just like the Germans. While in Spain, though, I found the locals seemed to refuse to speak english, even though they lived next to an American navy base! I did wonder if it had anything to do with the Spanish-British disagreement over Gibralter?

One other thing about Spain, at least in the Andalusia southwest, was the incredible staccato speed of the annunciation. I work with native Spanish speakers (Puerto Rican, Mexican, and a Spaniard) and some of them had difficulty understanding Andalusian Spanish!

Speaking of language, I have mentioned that I work with a number of Britons, and we constantly joke and bicker about the language, very much in good fun. The cultures are similar, but there are differences. One I like to emphasize is that Americans believe 300 years is a long time, and the British believe 300 miles is a long trip. One of my British colleagues looked at me seriously and stated, "But it IS a long trip!" I just smiled, as another of my colleagues, an American, replied emphatically, "No, it's not!" And it was in that vein that I was AMAZED that my trip through four countries (second paragraph) took a total of less than eight hours of driving time!

So far, I have found that my belief that the Lord brought me here is justified. My bonus has been to travel to ten different countries and Gibraltar in the sixteen months that I've been here. And if I had not taken this job, I would currently be looking for new employment. Many of my colleagues where I used to work are being released and retired. So, yes, the Lord does work in strange and mysterious ways.

And, I'm grateful.

Gibraltar Expoundage

OK. I don't really think that "expoundage" is actually a word, but I did promise to say more about Gibraltar in a previous post, so now I will:

Wikipaedia states that Gibraltar "...is a peninsula of 6.843 square kilometres (2.642 sq mi)" and that it has a "densely populated city area, home to almost 30,000 Gibraltarians." Considering that The Rock, as the towering peak is known, takes up about two-thirds of the peninsula, that means that all the citizens of the town are crammed into an area of about a square mile.

Gibraltar sits at a very southern point of Spain, jutting into the Straights that divide the Meditteranean Sea from the Atlantic Ocean. Captured in 1704 from Spain by Dutch and British forces during the War of Spanish Succession, the subsequent peace treaty granted the small plot of land to Great Britain in perpetuity, which of course means forever in "realspeak."

Gibraltar is a piece of England that may be more English than the Home Country. I drove into the territory directly from the Spanish city of La Linea de la Concepcion, past the customs house entrance, and south into Gibraltar. This was not possible for fifteen years between 1970 and 1985 during the fascist Franco regime. The irony was that Spain and Britain were both NATO allies then as they are now! Incredibly, the only road connecting the place to Spain crosses the airport runway, with stop lights at each side to stop auto and pedestrian traffic when airplanes line up to land.

Spain has demanded a renunciation of the peace treaty for years and years, and the return of the territory to Spain. Two referenda on returning Gibraltar have been held and the last was defeated by 99% by the citizens of the territory! The irony is that Spain maintains six "plazas de soberanía" (places of sovereignty) on and along the Mediterranean coast of Morocco, the two largest and most famous being the cities of Ceuta and Melilla. Morocco is just as adamant that these territories belong to them, and that Spain needs to leave. My suggestion is that the British invite Morocco to any negotiations with Spain about Gibraltar and include the plazas in the talks. Seems to me that the discussions would be really intersting.

The first surprise to me in Gibraltar was that everyone drove on the right side of the street. The standard in Britain, of course, is left-side driving. It matters little, though, as many roads there are one way, and there are so few (it's only a square mile-or-so, remember). The roads are small and curvy and packed.

After driving to the south end of the peninsula and shooting a number of photos of Morocco and the abundant sea traffic, I drove to the center of town, parking at the cable car station and rode to the top of The Rock. The views of the town, the Spanish mainland and the surrounding seas were spectacular. The monkeys were cool, too.

Legend says that British garrisons years ago brought Barbary Macaques as mascots to the outpost. There is some evidence that they were there before the British conquest. Either way, they are the only outpost in Europe of any type of wild monkey.

In town, everything is tight. It is the type of place that would make a New Yorker feel comfortable, except that the roads are minimally sized, much as all roads in ancient, European towns. It was at once vibrant and claustrophobic. And fully British, with everyone talking in a wonderfully English accent. I heard not a word of Spanish!

It made a great afternoon trip from our quarters at our hotel in Rota, Spain.

Deutschland Update - 14 July 2010

I’ve been in Germany now since 27 April, or eleven weeks, and I have finally had my first major encounter with European wildlife today. First there was the hare that hopped across my path. But, I was in for a much bigger surprise a few minutes later.

First, let’s update since my last post.

Since then, I have traveled to Southwestern Spain for twelve days/eleven nights for work. It was interesting to see Rota, as I had passed through some ten years ago. There were quite a few changes to the US/Spanish naval base, and the town. Much has been added to both and it still kept its charm.

Additionally, a colleague and I took full advantage of a day when we were released early and took a short trip to the British bastion of Gibraltar. This small outpost of all that is the Empire, is at once vibrant and claustrophobic. I will expand on this encounter in the future.

I took the break in working in Germany to move to another small city outside Mannheim, Viernheim. It is a quaint and cozy town and I find that I am enjoying the move much. I ride my bike about 12 kilometers (about 7 miles) to work every day through the Kaefertal Wald (“Wood”), and return in the evening. The small forest is the home of numerous biking and walking trails, paved, graveled and grass, and holds a restaurant, rec areas and the Mannheim Wasserwerke (water works).

The city water here is terrible, and I am able to taste the bromide and fluoride, along with the hint of mineral within the water. It is truly bad. But, across the trail from the Wasserwerke is a natural spring that has been properly plumbed and I stop daily and fill my water bottles with tolerably good water!

Recently, there was all of five hours of darkness due to the northerly location. This and the performance of the German Soccer Team in the World Cup had most Germans up very late! I couldn’t participate, even if I had wanted, as I am currently working 6 a.m. to 4:30 p.m. and go to sleep rather early at 9 p.m., or so.

So, I awoke at 4:30 this morning, prepped, dressed and grabbed my lunch. I am usually on the road no later than 5:15 for my 35-to-40-minute ride to work. The ride was quite enjoyable, as the morning temperatures here have been in the 50’s and 60’s. I saw my hare and continued through the Wald. Suddenly, I saw a large boar trot out of the woods in front of me. Standing about three feet tall and sporting tusks at least four inches, he quickly got my attention and I hit the brakes.

The skidding of my wheels got his attention and he bolted just as I saw the other six-to-eight pigs that had yet to emerge form the woods! The big boar bolted across to the right and the rest of the sounder bolted in the direction that I was traveling. We all moved quickly in three parallel paths before my flanking escort broke off their flight, and I continued on my way to work.

There I continued my work on helicopters and had other encounters today with US, Dutch, German and French military personnel. But, all that was quite anti-climactic. The trip home was uneventful. Thankfully.