Tuesday night found Saori and I scrambling over the phone and skype, tying to line up someplace to watch the semi-finals. In case you haven't been following the World Cup, or as they call it in German, die Weltmeisterschaftundeinbierbittedanke (WM for short), Germany has steadily been advancing as a serious contender for the title. They''re the least cheered for group in the running, I think. It's not that German football has made so many enemies, but rather how German the team plays.
There was a meme floating around facebook (in Spanish, no doubt circulated by the Mexicans who have long had good feelings for Germany): Brazil has Neymer, Argentina has Messi, Portugal has Ronaldo: Germany has a team. It's a valid point, especially in this world cup. German play is tight, controlled, team-based, undramatic, fair, and completely ruthless. There's little of the hero worship and much fewer "personalities" wearing the black, red, and yellow. It's great soccer served cold.
Anyway, we got a new intern at the office, Oscar, who is also Mexican and a classmate of Alejandro and Alfredo. He was kind enough to invite us to his friend's get together at a burger restaurant, where I was told, there would be some Mexicans and a few reserved tables to watch the game. Inside is key, considering how cold and rainy it is in Stuttgart right now. Seriously, I wore three layers today and wished I had a fourth. Fucking German summer.
I met Saori at the Restaurant, an upscale burger joint called Hans-Im-Gluck. The floor was sanded plywood panels and the interior was filled with young birch tree trunks. It was actually kind of a cool effect, but I have no idea what they have to do with burgers.
It turned out that the group was a mix of people who barely knew each other, mostly young engineer interns. At our table was Oscar, who speaks envious German, and two German guys who really struggled with english (but whose English was still better than my German!). Anyway, I tried to converse with them as best as possible. After years of awkward silence, I'm getting better at small talk in different languages. I get a lot of questions and talk about Arizona a lot. It's an easy topic to speak about with lots of good learner words. "Hot" "Desert" "Mountains" etc.
Anyway, we had a great seat for the world cup, and after we ordered some burgers and fries and beers, the game started soon enough.
Sometimes you do something and you are stunned to realize how much you missed doing it. I had that feeling when I ran in the woods the other day. Last night, it was the act of eating a hamburger with french fries and a beer. The burger wasn't even that good, but everything together was like mana for the soul.
A color stick was tossed around our area of the restaurant. This clever thing is a super basic grease facepaint in german black, red, and yellow, like a tiny deoderant stick. We swiped it across our cheeks and foreheads to make Deutschland banners.
The game was unforgettable. The first ten minutes were incredibly fast and aggressive on both sides. And then Germany scored. Everyone went nuts, shouting and hugging and high fiving and whooping. And thence proceeded the merciless opening of the can of whoop-ass on the Brazilians who were running around, looking like they'd recently assumed human form and were still trying to figure out how everything worked.
It was surreal and felt like an elaborate hoax. No one could believe it. We all settled into the long game, celebrating each new goal less and less. At the end, we even applauded the lone Brasilian goal.
We cashed out and hit the streets of the city. If Germany is the country of cars, this city is the center of car culture. The spark plug and the first combustion engine driven vehicle were invented here, and the companies which made them drive the local economy. So when Stuttgarters celebrate, they do so behind the wheel on the blacktop.
The center was full of choked streets, filled with cars blasting their horns, people waving giant flags out windows and moon roofs, making noise, chanting, whooping. In the yellow light of the street lamps, the city actually cordoned off a street to contain the massive crowds which flooded the center, mostly to watch the impromptu parade of cars.
Germany won, which means they're going to the final, Sunday, and now we're looking for a place to watch them.
There was a meme floating around facebook (in Spanish, no doubt circulated by the Mexicans who have long had good feelings for Germany): Brazil has Neymer, Argentina has Messi, Portugal has Ronaldo: Germany has a team. It's a valid point, especially in this world cup. German play is tight, controlled, team-based, undramatic, fair, and completely ruthless. There's little of the hero worship and much fewer "personalities" wearing the black, red, and yellow. It's great soccer served cold.
Anyway, we got a new intern at the office, Oscar, who is also Mexican and a classmate of Alejandro and Alfredo. He was kind enough to invite us to his friend's get together at a burger restaurant, where I was told, there would be some Mexicans and a few reserved tables to watch the game. Inside is key, considering how cold and rainy it is in Stuttgart right now. Seriously, I wore three layers today and wished I had a fourth. Fucking German summer.
I met Saori at the Restaurant, an upscale burger joint called Hans-Im-Gluck. The floor was sanded plywood panels and the interior was filled with young birch tree trunks. It was actually kind of a cool effect, but I have no idea what they have to do with burgers.
It turned out that the group was a mix of people who barely knew each other, mostly young engineer interns. At our table was Oscar, who speaks envious German, and two German guys who really struggled with english (but whose English was still better than my German!). Anyway, I tried to converse with them as best as possible. After years of awkward silence, I'm getting better at small talk in different languages. I get a lot of questions and talk about Arizona a lot. It's an easy topic to speak about with lots of good learner words. "Hot" "Desert" "Mountains" etc.
Anyway, we had a great seat for the world cup, and after we ordered some burgers and fries and beers, the game started soon enough.
Sometimes you do something and you are stunned to realize how much you missed doing it. I had that feeling when I ran in the woods the other day. Last night, it was the act of eating a hamburger with french fries and a beer. The burger wasn't even that good, but everything together was like mana for the soul.
A color stick was tossed around our area of the restaurant. This clever thing is a super basic grease facepaint in german black, red, and yellow, like a tiny deoderant stick. We swiped it across our cheeks and foreheads to make Deutschland banners.
The game was unforgettable. The first ten minutes were incredibly fast and aggressive on both sides. And then Germany scored. Everyone went nuts, shouting and hugging and high fiving and whooping. And thence proceeded the merciless opening of the can of whoop-ass on the Brazilians who were running around, looking like they'd recently assumed human form and were still trying to figure out how everything worked.
It was surreal and felt like an elaborate hoax. No one could believe it. We all settled into the long game, celebrating each new goal less and less. At the end, we even applauded the lone Brasilian goal.
We cashed out and hit the streets of the city. If Germany is the country of cars, this city is the center of car culture. The spark plug and the first combustion engine driven vehicle were invented here, and the companies which made them drive the local economy. So when Stuttgarters celebrate, they do so behind the wheel on the blacktop.
The center was full of choked streets, filled with cars blasting their horns, people waving giant flags out windows and moon roofs, making noise, chanting, whooping. In the yellow light of the street lamps, the city actually cordoned off a street to contain the massive crowds which flooded the center, mostly to watch the impromptu parade of cars.
Germany won, which means they're going to the final, Sunday, and now we're looking for a place to watch them.
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