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...my blog has moved. If you'd like to stay abreast of current events in my life, please direct your attention to
redhawkchemist.blogspot.com
Hope you like it!
Jon

Epic Tragedy

Dear Reader,

Amidst various other things that have been going on lately, I have still been taking time to enjoy good beer in good company, especially as things draw so close to the end. Each sip is homage to a semester of memories marinated in German beer just as tender horse fillets are brined in Rheinische Sauerbraten.

Many of you may remember the schenanigans of my birthday, where a group of my amigos and I purchased a keg of fine brew from our favorite restaurant, Bönnsch, to commemorate the occasion. The opening of the vessel was a flop, considering there was no adequate blunt instrument to batter the tap in, and my improvisation of smashing into a burm resulted in me taking a malt beverage shower.

Well, I always like adventure to come full circle, so a number of us set out last thursday to retrieve once again such a keg from Brauhaus Bönnsch. This time I was thinking ahead, and I, uh, organised a mallet from the Chemistry Department tool drawer in order to properly prepare the festivities of the evening. After having haulled ten liters of liquid satisfaction across a city of 300,000 and receiving numerous invitations to leave my keg behind for the good of another party, we arrived at the safe haven of Am Wichelshof, a student dorm occupied by a friend of mine. The keg was placed on the table, the tap in place, and my whole body was trembling in nervous anticipation as I prepared to deliver a fatefull blow. I finally worked up the courage and *thud* the tap was driven into the socket. A sigh of relief, well-earned, was sighed, and I righted the keg and prepared to unleash the first white plastic cup of foam covered glory.

BUT LO!!!! I turned the knob on the tap, and nothing came out but a lazy stream of clear fluid. Not beer. Not honey-colored, fermented tastiness of the gods. But water. I had purchased a keg that was filled with water.

Nothing good be done...it was too late to walk back with the keg and get a new, so we just ran to a story and got back-up beverage. The next day, however, I was destined to get my money back. I marched into Bönnsch keg in arm and planted it firmly on the counter. The man who sold me the keg was there, and he asked me if it was good. "Try for yourself," I told him (auf Deutsch, natürlich), which he did, filling up a beer mug with foul, non-beer dihydrogen monoxide. He laughed. Hard. And brought other people to show them. He was still laughing when he returned all my money to me. His humor diffused my wrath, fortunately for him, and out of revenge I spent 15 euro at the restaurant drinking beer and eating pretzels....

Revenge is sweet.

Back to the States on Thursday...keep your eyes peeled!

Peace,

Jon

Who are your heros?

Socialistic vent courtesy of Jon Paretsky.

If you've been following world news, you're probably aware that Israel and Hezbollah of Lebanon have been in negotiations regarding exchanges of prisoners and bodies. According to CNN, Hezbollah turned over the remains of two Israeli airmen who were captured a couple summers ago, sparking the brief yet violent war between Israel and Lebanon. In return, Hezbollah will welcome home the bodies of 199 Lebanese rebels and a prisoner who is a hero to them. Israel is definitely getting the short end of the stick, which Hezbollah views as a victory.

Lebanon is joyfully welcoming back its fallen sons and hero, Kuntar. But why is Kuntar a hero? Because he went into Israel in '78 as part of a Palestinian Liberation Front movement, killed a police officer, and then took a hostage a twenty-eight your old man and his four year old daughter. He shot the man dead at close range in front of his daughter and then smashed in the little girl's head with his rifle butt. The death of a two year old girl who suffocated as her mother tried to stop her from crying is also attributed to him.

And he's a hero.

What kind of hero is glorified by the blood of children? What kind of society celebrates that? If you have such hate in your heart that you can take satisfaction in the murder of the young of your enemies, then you have no place in this world, damnit.

That's just my opinion.

http://edition.cnn.com/2008/WORLD/meast/07/16/israel.swap/index.html

It's more than a feeling

Ah! I hate this feeling of limbo that comes with the inevitable closing of a chapter of my life. There's so much here that I have yet to do or see, and so many goodbyes I need to make in the next week, and some of it's just not going to happen. Life goes on without closure, but it gives me no satisfaction. I actually have a bit of academic stress for this coming week, the first such period all semester. (The "study" part of "study abroad" was a little ficticious ...) I have three oral exams and a significant paper to right about my chemistry experiences, a bit to write in German. And I just want to have one more bierchen with all the people that I met and grew to love as friends and family away from home.

I'll be coming home soon, and it will be fantastic to see my family and the people I love from back home, but I'm going to put myself through an emotional meat grinder until I step out of the plane onto American soil on July 24th...

Where the Hell is Matt

I was hungry and you fed me...

Your boy holding down the East Side Gallery, a painted section of the Berlin Wall

As I was walking out of the grocery store this evening, I was beckoned by an old man who was standing in the same place I had seen him when I first got there. As I approached, he mumbled something to me about food, rubbed his thumb and forefinger together in the symbol for cash, and generally gave the impression that he needed something to eat but didn't have money. I told him I couldn't help him and started walking to my bike which was about four meters away. In the few seconds it took me to get there, I had a massive internal debate, and instead of unlocking my bike, I pulled out a twenty cent roll and a thirty cent banana from my backpack and walked back to the man. I handed him the food, and he said something to me that I couldn't understand, and then asked if I was sure, that if I had enough for myself. I told him it was fine, shook his hand and walked away.

For those of you have been keeping up on my experiences here, dealing with beggars is a recurring theme in my personal development. My justification for giving him the food that I did is as follows: a) it's food. It's not like he can take it and buy himself drugs with it. b) I gave him about fifty cents worth of food. Even if he was scamming me, I only lost fifty cents c) on the same token, if he really did need the food, that fifty cents went a long way. d) I have plenty of food, and I wasn't going to starve without what I've given out.

Looking at from another angle, I could just be enabling his behavior. I have talked to a few people about this, and my understanding is that Germany has a really good infrastructure for taking care of people who lose their jobs, and that if you're on the streets, it's your own fault. In that grain of thought, I gave this man an opportunity just to continue taking advantage of a system. Even taking that into consideration, I feel as though it's justifiable so long as there's the possibility the man actually needed food.

A ran headlong into a glass door today...it's a divider between the chemistry office and a sideroom where we have a kitchenette and a long table. The door is always open, and I didn't realize that someone had closed until *bam* Jon loses...

Last Friday, my wallet took a suicidal leap out of my pants pocket while I was running across the road. Do to the noiseless nature of the incident, I didn't notice until I was safe and sound in my dorm room, quite a ways a way. The realization of the loss of my beloved traveling companion-- who had followed close to my behind through Liége, Maastricht, St. Andrews, Berlin, and everywhere else I've been in the past few years-- gripped my spine with icy fingers. Jake and I retraced our steps back to the city, but it wasn't to be found. I had lost all of my money and capability of getting money, as will as most forms of identification. I tried not to let it get me too down, which was a bit of a challenge, and went on with the days events, trying to figure out how to live on fifteen euros for the next few days until I could figure something out.

Too my surprise, I got a message on the German equivalent of Facebook from a woman who had found my wallet on the road, intact, with everything still in it. She gave me her contact information, we got in touch, and on Sunday I went and picked it up from her and her husband. I feel incredibly blessed...the probability of that happening is ridiculous, especially considering it's happened to me before, only with my six hundred dollar camera when I first got to Germany. It's really cool that there's such honest people out there.

That's it for now, I'm going to go clean my room. I leave you some pictures of recent events.
Peace!

Jon

The house where Karl Marx grew up in (Trier, Germany)

The Brandenburger Gate in Berlin

More good looking architecture in Berlin

The thing I miss the most about America, you may be surprised, is not my family, friends, or girlfriend. It is, in fact, Mexican food, which you can't find much of here. However, Jake, Jessica and I found a California Burrito restaurant in Berlin, which ranks among the top ten moments of satisfaction I have had while "studying" abroad. I almost cried. Seriously. Okay, so maybe not more than my family and etc., but you know what I mean...

The sunset as seen through my window as I was making this entry.

In regards to mortality....

A few days ago a close friend of my sister named Tobin was killed in a car accident. According to reports I've heard from back home, the vehicle he was in was struck by another that ran a red light. He lost his life instantly.

I'd like to ask you to take a moment to think about it, in homage of Tobin. Think about your family members who loves you and your friends who care for you. Tobin had so much left to do in his life, so much potential that he had not yet manifested, a world to discover, and had captured the hearts of many people who knew him. Why him, why now? Why not someone else who already had their share of the world? Why anyone at all? Answers that you won't be able to find; somethings just are the way they are.

So hold tight the ones you love, appreciate the opportunities you have, and never forget that there's never a day more important than the one you're experiencing right now. We have so many blessings that we overlook.

Rest in peace Tobin, you will be missed.