That Chinese secret was bleach ok? Geez.

Coming home from my voice teacher's the other day, a couple of plain clothes policemen got on the train immediately before the train doors closed for departure, and walked straight up to the only foreign-looking couple of the train, an Asian man and woman, and promptly asked for their identification. Am I wrong, or would his kind of situation never fly in America? Yes, I know all about racial profiling, and how Americans are so certain that they live in one of the most racist environments in the world. But, this kind of eternal self-flagellation, which is typical of the American middle class, is, in my opinion, far from the truth.

Here in Germany, there are still commercials reminiscent of the one I used to watch as a kid. You know, the one where the woman goes to her neighborhood Chinese laundry, and, amazed at how white her whites have come out, asks the man working there how in the world they do it. The man, practically a cartoonist’s drawing in real life, complete with buck teeth, insists that he cannot tell because it is an "ancient Chinese secwet". There is a commercial for ready-made noodles bowls here that has a little guy with eyes drawn as two, simple lines, slanting in opposite directions. He has one of those cone shaped hats, and a chop stick in each hand. He dances around to Asian-sounding cymbal clashes as he extols the praises of his "Asia Wok" noodles.

And, I can't tell you how many times I have heard Chinese people referred to as "slant eyes" in German, as the person saying it doesn’t bat an eye, seemingly unembarrassed at his faux pas. He wouldn't consider himself a racist, you see. Maybe it's the extreme precision of the language mixed with the ever-present over-homogenous nature of current German society. The language may just be the culprit, I theorize. After all, I still find it difficult to describe the typical garb of a conservative Muslim female, since, in German, what she is wearing is literally "head towel ". That just seems too close to “towel head” to me.

It seems to me that, in order to not be considered racist in America, those policemen on the train would have had to ask for the identification of everyone on the train. After all, it is impossible to tell who is American by sight. We are too many things, too many possibilities to be easily pigeonholed, at least, not by sight alone. They would have had to check everyone out, or they could have potentially gotten a few choice words from a couple of Asian people who were born on American soil. (I could make the obvious joke about how many people in America would be happy if more Asians rode trains rather than drove, but that would be mean, and, just too easy.)

The policemen have it relatively easy here, though. When speaking to someone with skin other than my own, it is almost a surprise to see that they actually speak German like a native. Surprising most of all, is perhaps my own surprise. I'll never forget, though, years ago, sitting in a German train on my way to see a friend. An older German lady had engaged in a conversation with a young Turkish man. And, for some reason, even though he must have spoken with a flawless accent, she asked him if he had been born in Germany. He was probably a German citizen even. Can you imagine being him? How insulting would that be if everyone constantly asked you if you were born in your own country? (The subtext always has the ring of “do you really deserve to be here?”) But, in Germany, being German means German blood. Until recently, the government did not easily grant citizenship to the children born in Germany to Turkish guest workers. In any case, a youth of Turkish decent is still seem as “Turkish” by the majority of people here, regardless or his official passport.

I didn't have my passport with me either just this week, as it is not required to be on your person if you are registered with a city here, as all permanent residents must be. I was lucky, though, because the policemen looked at me and just thought I was another German. I look more German than most of my German friends, really. Truth be told, I have seen so many more people here who look like me than I ever did back in the States. Weird that, but anyway...

Just remember that the States is not the world’s most racist country. If anything, the States have been forced to at least try to deal with its racism head on. The result is a society that, in my opinion, has one of the most progressive racial policies in the world. Let’s just suffice it to say that your typical American will not refer to Chinese people as “slant eyes” and call their favorite chocolate candy “Nigger Kiss”. Need I say more?

A car Mia's size?

We’re finally selling our little car! Wow, after having been a trusty little piece of beautifully-designed machinery, we are letting her go. We live in the center of town and just don’t need a car. It is just a money pit, really, taking up money that we would gladly use for other stuff (a new computer, for instance—yay.) Do you want to bid on it?

http://cgi.ebay.de/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&item=120035527337&ssPageName=ADME:B:EF:DE:2

The selling of the car coincides with another groundbreaking moment in the history of Josh and Chris together—the uniting of our finances. Finally, it will be possible to start plotting out future together with actual financial goals. I am much more astute with the books than Chris, so I have been given the job of putting this all together. It has taken me a couple of weeks to simply assess where Chris is financially and then to try to put things together has been taxing to my brain! He has helped, though, offering ideas for how we can tackle some of the challenges as we change the concept from “I” to “We”.

I don’t mean to be too enigmatic about it all. Let’s just say, that, after having gone over the finances, we are in a really good spot, and I am very happy for that.

On a different note, I had my first coaching with the main coach at the Nationaltheater in Mannheim. He was a really big help. I have a lot of things to think about now. When I asked him if he thought that I could be ready to audition by January, he said: “well, your voice is ready, you just have to assimilate lots of different information and get it into your body. You could be ready in January or next week for that matter.” That was good to hear, because it reiterates what I am being told from other sides and how I feel myself. To think that a year ago, I wasn’t even sure what Fach I was. (It is important to keep that perspective when there is still so much work to be done.)

On a lighter note, enjoy this little video of Mia playing:

Cha Cha Cha-ange....

I have been meditating a lot more. I am trying to find within myself answers about my future, and what I want from it. For now, though, I am going on the principle of "anywhere but here". I have outgrown Pforzheim and all that it has to offer me. I have made some decisions, not all of which I can yet talk about here, in that they are not yet official or really decided upon. I just know that there will be a lot of changes over the next year or so and my consciousness is slowly catching up to this idea.

That is, perhaps, the problem, because what I have been sensing from my meditations is that I am very, very afraid. It is rather a conundrum, though, because what I am afraid of is not necessarily that change is imminent, or that there is a possibility that I may fail. Interestingly, the reason that I am scared out of my wits is that I will probably succeed. I am scared of success.

Will someone please explain this to me? I know that this is what is happening. But, what in the world do I do about it?

Ouch my ear hurts

We are in the end rehearsals for "Tannhäuser" right now. It goes up on Friday. God, talk about a hulk of a piece. It is about 4 hours long and is just as dramatic as can possible be. I really like the piece, but it is tiring me out. The chorus part, that I sing full voice, is extremely hard, especially when asked to do it more than once a day. Optimally, it would be best to do it once every two days at most.

I've been paying attention to the two Heldentenors that sing the title role, and have been learning a lot from them. Really, in most ways, I am learning not what to do from them. It is always a crap shoot to know whether they are going to actually make it to the end of the opera without blood spewing from their chords. Neither of them seem to concentrate of pacing themselves till the end (maybe this has something to do with the fact that neither of them has any volume ever than fortissississimo.)

On a lighter note, my new kitten is so cute, but she is going to be a handful. She has more energy than Chris and I combined, and we have the scratches on our legs (even if they were accidental) to prove it.

Aaaaaargh!!

I just wanted to remind everyone that it is “Talk Like a Pirate Day” today, so, please, say something quirkily pirate-like, ye matees!

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pirate_Day

Cake Batter and the Ruination of All

The whole city smells like cake batter today. To what do I owe this? Yummy city. Where is there a giant cake baking? Give me directions to the yum and I’m there.

We’re going with some friends tonight to a restaurant here called “Little Texas”. It’s the only place around where you can actually get a rockin’ hamburger. I’m hungry!

Here is an outline for a story that I thought of today:

A young man, obsessed with interpretations of the Bible goes to university to study theology. He becomes convinced that the Bible remains timeless because of its use of parables. He, as many have before him, tries to assemble meaning of prophecies made long ago in the Bible, eventually becoming famous by publishing a book piecing together the rise and fall of every major empire known to man, claiming that they had been predicted from the beginning in the Bible. Using the same tools of analysis he used to decipher the stories in his first book, he makes a brave analysis of what may happen in the future, using the parables of the Book of David and Revelations.

As the research of the book goes forward, it becomes evident that the inevitable liberalization of modern spirituality has paved the way for the entrance of the literal Anti-Christ in present society. Most people, even those not in any way affiliated with any church, see themselves as 'spiritual', but turned off by organized religion. The next prophet for these people, predicts the young theologian, is the anti-christ himself and 'Armageddon' is simply a metaphor for the destruction of the known world through war, a war that devastates the Earth and sets back Man to a technological equivalent of the early Middle Ages. The most poignant metaphor, that Man's forefathers are able to rise from their graves at the second coming actually happens in the form of Christ’s own enlightened ideas being re-instituted again within the devastated society.

Ok, now that I read this, I am certain that it seems hokey at best. I am sure that it would seem interesting with a few Hollywood turns here and there. Ok, there really is no way to spruce it up. But, at least you know what came to mind when I saw that article in the Washington Post, saying that most Americans do not identify as 'Christian', but, rather, as 'spiritual'. Don't get me wrong, I see nothing wrong with this. But, it is ssomehow an interesting idea that the enlightenment of Man would somehow bring on its demise.

PS My new cat’s name is ‘Mia’.

A cat by any other name would not be the same. 'Same' just seems like such a bland name, though.

What do you know, the "Word of the Day" (an email service that sends an obscure word every day to me) is Ailurophile: a lover of cats. This is weird, because we brought home our new cat today. I think a cute name for her would be "Samantha". It was the name of the beautiful blond on "Bewitched" and the name of Chris' favorite slut from “Sex in the City”. Hmmm. We'll see. Is she really a "Samantha"?


She had a little trouble with the file folders. She seems more like a 'Trudy' or a 'Helena' to me. 'Birtha' seems fitting yet cruel somehow. ‘Divine’ seems so horribly gay, albeit a fine tribute. Maybe she's a 'Cindy' or a 'Misty'.

Interestingly, many people in former Eastern Germany were really attracted to names that ended with the “e” sound--they sounded particularly American to them, I guess. So, you'll meet an occasional 'Bobby' or 'Suzy' here. When you do, though, they are almost always from the East. I find it terribly difficult to address a grown man as ‘Bobby’. What if he were my boss? Weird.

I used to work for the government answering questions over the telephone about financial aid. I heard a lot of colorful names there. There was once a woman named 'Aquanet'. Inspired by ‘Prince’, there was a woman who had changed her name to be only one word: 'Beautiful'. (Come to think of it, Prince must have had such a hard time changing his one word name, especially considering ‘The Artist Formerly Known As’ surely did not fit on the form under “Christian Name”.)

'Pretty' seems to be a really popular African American name now. The best, though, was when I noticed that a young woman named 'Pretty' had the unfortunate last name of 'Bush'. My old roommate, also an African American woman, claimed that she had one cousin named 'Fruity' and one named 'Minty'. I had trouble believing that.

My cat needs a name. You must to be helping me! Suggestions?

Lust auf staying put.

Last night, our new chorus director asked all to stand up for 10 seconds in silence for Bernhard Werner, a singer who had recently died. Werner had begun his career in Pforzheim and had sung, subsequently, in Lucerne as well, from where our new chorus Director hails. I found it strange yet poignant that we all, collectively showed our respect for a singer’s passing. I didn’t know the man, but the faces of the others in the chorus, austere and pensive, showed that they meant what they were doing—silently, in their own way, paying tribute to a life devoted to his Art.

People, especially my family, ask me when I am coming back to America. They seem to think that Germany is a passing fancy of some kind, a place that cannot be considered, for an American, a final destination, but should be seen, rather, as some place in the middle of someone’s journey. But, I must admit, I was never very happy being an opera singer in America. I am sure this had to do with lack of success in other parts of my life. But, the lack of collective respect for what I do seemed to be some kind of invalidation there. Why would I think of going back to America? I don’t even really want to visit at this point. To an American, without even knowing my private finances, I will always be some kind of starving artist. Here, when people find out that I am an opera singer, their eyes light up. In America, my most typical response is “A what?” One man in America when finding out that I am an opera singer said “Oh, I didn’t think they had those anymore.”

Why would I go back to America? There is nothing for me there.

At every family gathering here, Chris’ family is just dying to hear me sing something..anything. And, they just love it. They all just cry and applaud like madmen when I’m done. When my parents were here, they didn’t ask me to sing for them once. They weren’t even interested.

Cute cutie cuteness

We found a new kitten today. We're going to bring her home n Thursday, when Chris and I have a little more time at home so that she won't be lonely on her first days. We don't have hame for her yet. She looks like the little cat from the Hallmark Cards, though, in my opinion. We picked her for her personality, though, not for her looks, even if she is just the cutest ever!

Pip, pip

Who wants to see my cheesy little London video complete with fun music? Ok, don't all clamor to the front.

Man killed today by a rampage of his overly-excited fans and their families. The accident happened after his public saw the now infamous London slideshow, and attacked him from sheer inspiration, literally smothering him with kisses. Not a bad way to go, I dare say, what.

Spotted Dork in Large Sea Mammals

There’s so much about life we will never be able to understand. I can just tell you, though, that, although I am sure I do not deserve it per se, I have happened into a wonderful part of my life. Things are really going well for me and I must acknowledge that—what better place than here. I am very thankful for this time and will try to savor every moment of it.

Went to visit Betsy in her new place in Wiesbaden over the weekend. Great place. Lots of space. Nice neighborhood. She is Fest now with Wiesbaden and will sing Idamante in Idomoneo as her first role. For those that may not know: that’s a hard part, a really hard part! I met her one day after one of her coachings and she, I, and Wiesbaden’s lyric tenor, Judd went up and sang for each other. They were excited about my voice, excited that it is so big. Judd even said it was beautiful. That’s cool. A compliment from people who actually know something is always so affirming somehow. Anyway, it really helped me. All of these people, now that things are starting to take off, are “coming out of the wood work” to push me along this path. It is both uncanny and inspiring.

As for expounding on my trip to Wales and the trip with my parents, I am not sure how I will even begin a commentary on such a huge happening. Perhaps best would be to just make general comments about Wales for the moment, then, if there are any questions (from Monica, for instance the only person, to my knowledge, that actually reads this) I will answer them in the “comments” section:

--Because the weather was so nice (a rare occurrence), we drove out to Southerndown, a place on the sea where one can see what Wales’ coastline looks like. The cliffs are beautiful.

Funny, though, the grass goes straight to their edge. It looks as though the grass just goes to the edge of the water.


But, at the grass' edge, is where the drop-off is:


Scary.
--Went to Porthcawl, a typical Welsh beach resort. English tourists, especially those of the blue-collar variety, that Porthcawl particularly caters to, are scary. There seems to be a much greater “white trash” contingent in Britain than there is in Germany. The wealth in Germany seems a bit more evenly distributed. How to prove this? No idea. Just seems so.
--Had “Curry”. That just means Indian food in general. Finally, something palatable. Actually, it was even quite lovely. Yum. Thank you for importing all of those Indian people so that we could get something decent to eat here.
--We have been having Welsh Rarebit for breakfast every morning. This is cheddar melted on toast. Do not balk at this people. Do not forget, I said CHEDDAR!, and boy, do they have good Cheddar here.
--Went to St. Faggan’s (don’t laugh at the name.) It is a Welsh folk history museum. It’s a giant complex of buildings showing different aspects of Welsh society. They have many building that represent farm life, city life, town life, etc. They actually found buildings that epitomized this throughout Wales, and then moved the buildings, piece by piece to this site. One of the truly impressive ventures is the Worker’s Institute, a building furthering tradesmen’s skills. Look at this beautiful building, moved, stone by stone. Incredible! I embarrassed myself by talking to one of the park guides. I asked where the money came from for this huge project and she said that it came from some foundation. Having seen so much British TV as a child, I simple-mindedly asked if any of the money came from the English Heritage Foundation. Her fangs came out as she beat me about the head with her words, an action she obviously would have treasured doing with her fists instead, had she been permitted. “English Heritage? Well, that would be for things in ENGLAND. We are not in ENGLAND, sir. We are in WALES. So, money for the Welsh Folk Museum would come from WALES.” I thought I could hear her softly hissing, and as she lurched back, ready to pounce on me, I just ran away screaming like a little girl. Sorry, lady. Lest I forget how much the Welsh hate the English.
--Watched British version of X Factor. It is a singing competition where people come in, sing for 30 seconds and then are either eliminated or move on to the next round. Oh, God, I’m in love with this show. They have Simon, the ass from American Superstar, and Sharon Osborne on the panel. It is so cute, because they show a nice balance of talented people and really horribly untalented people. It is so funny!
--Had typical Roast Beef dinner on Sunday. Uh, what is the big deal about this? It is no different than what we eat in America, except that our vegetables aren’t cooked until they are like mush, like we’re still living in the 70s.
--Went to little mountain town of Brecon. Very cute. Beautiful mountains!


It is littered with sheep. They’re everywhere! What is beautiful is that there are large spots of purple heather on the hills (I ear a song coming on...)


--Had Cream Tea. That’s is tea at teatime with scones, jam, and clotted cream. God, I love this. Truly, though, whereas the English can’t cook the main meal very well, they make it up with their sweets. “Spotted Dick” was a bit, odd, though. I digress.
--Saw the Tate Modern on trip back through London. Seemed a rather impressive building (a converted power station), but the actual collection seemed smallish for a city of this size. Odd.
--Wanted to go see a movie in London until I realized that it costs 12£. That’s almost $23! I stayed in instead.

So, overall, my trip to Wales was very nice, not withstanding the bad food. I really loved having the chance to spend lots of time with Maria, and to see the beautiful Welsh country. The next time I visit her, though, I will not bother passing through London, but, rather, choose the more expensive option of just flying straight to Cardiff.

Lessons from the Summer: Love Paris! Oh, God, Paris, I love you! I want so much to live there. London: you’re just not my thing. Don’t like it. Can’t put my finger on it, but it just did not give me a good feeling at all. Note to self: just stay on the continent sweetie.