Heimat

I think I'm getting old.

Lately I've been feeling very... I don't know how to put it..."heimatverbunden" - very attached to my native home.
Maybe it's because I'm getting older. Maybe it's because I'm visiting my parents more often. Maybe there's some other reason.

I grew up in the south-western part of Germany. I call it "The Shire of Germany" because it reminds me a lot of the Shire in Middle-Earth, home of the Hobbits. It's a very rural area, there are no big cities and no big industries. But it's so beautiful! There's a big river (the Rhine), there's valleys and hills and mountains covered with old, dark forest (the Black Forest). There is a lot of agriculture, viniculture, forestry and actually in the past there's even been the cultivation of pipe-weed (tobacco). The rest of the world generally doesn't care about this place, except for tourists maybe (plus there's a town with an old renowned university). The weather is rather warm, and the food - influenced by French, Austrian and Swiss cuisine and benefiting from the warm, nearly Mediterranean climate - is the best in all Germany.
It has been part of the area the Celts originated, later home to the Alemanni tribes but the Romans greatly influenced this area, too (e.g. with their love of hot springs and wine).
Every time I'm on my way home I look out of the train window and admire the landscape, the rolling hills and the mountains looming behind them.

Or well, maybe with the mountains and the university it's a little more like Rivendell...?


Anyway. I find I'm getting more interested in the traditional dishes (though I can't cook), fairytales, history and landscapes of the area. I enjoy the farmer's market and walks in nature. I take more pictures of things I wouldn't even have looked at when I was younger.


The place where I live now is nice, too. The flat is nice (although too hot in summer), there's bus stops just across the street, a big store a few minutes walk away and a mini town ceter a few more minutes walk away. Plus there's a small river with footpaths, trees, garden plots and playgrounds; the perfect place for a walk or Nordic Walking. It's my place, I can decorate how I want and I can clean up when I want. I can do what I want when I want to. I have all of my things there.
But I don't feel like I feel when I'm at my parents - I just feel happier there. I just can't seem to recreate this feeling of home and Gemütlichkeit at my place. Maybe it's because when I'm at my parents, I'm always there on holidays (or when I'm ill). Maybe it's because I get good food there. Maybe because I have company there; I never seem to be able to make friends, so when I'm at my parents' I have more company, more social life (outside work) and communication than normal. I often site in front of the TV in the evening with my parents and watch documentaries or concert DVDs. My parents often go for walks somewhere if time and weather permit, and when I'm there I go with them.
I often think how I could recreate that feeling at my place, but I don't really know how. Maybe it's not possible.

Normally it shouldn't be a problem, but it worries me for two reasons.
First of all, I had planned to live and work abroad, in UK or Ireland, sometime. But now I don't even feel like moving out of state. This, of course, limits possible places to work.
Then I sometimes feel like I'm too dependent on my parents. When I need something bigger my parents often buy it and bring it (I don't have a car), when I need help changing the light bulbs (I'm rather small) or with some other work around the home, with water-taps, etc, my dad does that when they visit me. I feel like at my age I should not depend on them this much. Of course I try to help them where I can. But what would I do without them, when they can't help anymore? I also often worry about them. When they drive home from visiting me, they have to call when they're home. I really don't have anyone else, so I'm afraid of losing them, I dread life without them.

The Shire - Tolkien Gateway
Alemanni - Wikipedia

Upper Rhine Valley - Wikipedia

To end this post on a more positive note, here are some pretty pictures of my home:

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My first love

I met my first boyfriend when I was about 18 years old. At school there was a carneval party with the theme "Lost in Space" and I was going as a Trill from Star Trek. For a picture I needed a communicator and a friend of mine borrowed one from her friend. As I gave it back to him and said my thanks, I thought he had beautiful eyes.
He knew my friend from the Scouts, but he was also in the school's theatre club, as was another friend of mine. He was nine months younger than me. As we now shared a circle of friends, we got to know each other. I fell in love with him. Apparently for everyone else it was quite obvious that there was something going on, but for me not so much; though of course I hoped.
We became close friends. When watching Interview With The Vampire together he got me to promise to tell him who I'm in love with. I was terribly nervous. I didn't know what to do. But somehow I managed to kiss his cheek and say "You know very well who it is that I'm in love with" (sometimes probably it's best if you just do something without thinking). He said he had hoped I'd say that and we kissed.

He was amazing. He was highly intelligent, one of the most intelligent people I ever met. He joked about inventing a number that will turn every calculation true and will be divisible by zero. He was funny, he made me laugh. He loved to discuss things and wanted to become a lawyer. He loved Star Trek and did role-playing (pen & paper and live-action). He smelled good, I think he used Tabak Culture. He was handsome, he had very blue eyes.
Actually... one blue eye. When he was 13 he had a tumour in one eye and since then had a glass eye (which was blue, too, of course). I think it was something very rare and usually not malignant.

It didn't last that long. I don't know how long exactly, maybe three months. I have forgotten what he said when he broke up with me, but he was charming. I can remember that he put a hand on my shoulder as I cried. He said we could stay friends, but soon later seemed not interested in it anymore. So for a while we had not much contact.
But he still owed me a pizza because of a bet he lost. So sometime later we had dinner together and got along well. Very slowly we became friendly with each other again.

By that time I had finished school and didn't see him so often anymore. He was preparing for his finals. But he had been ill for a while and they couldn't quite figure out what it was. At one point they thought it was hepatitis, something with his liver. I had been trying to call him for a while, but couldn't reach him. Finally one of his parents answered the phone. They told me he was in hospital - and the diagnosis was cancer. At that time I was too dumbfounded to say or ask anything more. Later, through friends, I found out he had cancer in his liver, kidneys and lymphatic system. As I understood it, it was something very rare and there was no best practice treatment.
Of course it sounds like a death sentence. But somehow, hope always remains.
He was treated with thermotherapy and chemotherapy. It was hard trying to reach his family. By a friend I was told that he didn't want visitors, but when I finally got his brother on the phone, he said it was OK, except during thermotherapy when he wasn't feeling well. To this day I'm mad at this girl - I suspected she was in love with him, but saying something like this in such a situation...
So it came that I only saw him once more. I visited him in the hospital and as usual he was joking around with the nurses.

I got the call some time later, from a friend. She told me he had died. I stayed calm; she said she was glad, she had been afraid of telling me. My parents were in the living room, my mum was ironing and my dad was watching TV. I was trying to tell them, but I couldn't say anything. What are you supposed to say? "He's dead" - just like that? I started crying. My mum somehow understood what happened and hugged me. My dad was asking us to tell him what was going on.

He had been Catholic. I heard there were so many altar servers wanting to serve at his funeral that they couldn't let all of them. It was in March. He was 19, he would have had finished school that summer, no doubt with top-notch grades.
The chapel was full of young people.I sat apart from my friends, the girls of my class; I can't really remember why. I remember a friend of his sat beside me, he had been doing live-action roleplaying with him and his girlfriend had known him since they were kids. There were some speeches. When the priest said that probably all the people here were asking themselves these questions: Why? Why him? Why so early? - that's when I started to cry. I remember the guy next to me putting his hand on my shoulder. He left it there throughout the whole service, his crying girlfriend in the other arm. Someone of the family held a speech, too, and a friend. I wondered back then and I still do, how he managed to do this, how he could be so brave to stand up there and talk about one of his best friends who just died. He said if he could see him standing there in a suit and telling everyone what a wonderful person he was, my ex-boyfriend would probably laugh and say "nah, enough, it's ok". He reminded us of all the good times we had together. It was heart-breaking.
There was a memorial at school, too. And his family rented the café we were always going to for one evening and invited all of his friends. Reminiscing, sharing stories. There were a lot of young tough guys that night, being drunk and crying.

Actually it's that time that made me realize that rock guys are the best. It wasn't my friends, the girls from my class, taking care of me at that time. It was the guys, his friends. It was his friend, putting his hand on my shoulder when I cried. Other friends kept looking out for me, telling others to wait when we were walking somewhere and I was falling back.


I forgot a lot about my first love. I forgot how he sounded, I forgot his laugh, I forgot his smell. Sometimes I find myself wondering what he'd be doing today. Would he be a lawyer? Would he have his own family (he loved kids)? I find myself thinking "oh, he would have loved that" about some new movie or something. Sometimes I might miss him a little. I wish I could call him and talk things through with him, and maybe then I'd know what to do.

He's burried in the same grave as his grandparents. It's not far from where my parents live and sometimes when I'm visiting them I go there and put up a candle.
Next to his name there's a sign, a circle with a dot in the middle. I've been told it's a sign the Scouts use, it means "I've fulfilled my task here and went home".

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Comfort Zone

I read the wikipedia article about Comfort Food recently - I have no idea how I stumbled upon it. I wanted to add German comfort food, but haven't gotten round to it.
Then yesterday I had a really bad day; stress, TBE vaccination, the hot weather, and whatever else, taking it's toll and I did something incredibly stupid at work. I kept thinking about how embarrassing it was and was shocked at how and why I had such a mental black-out. But later that evening, after watching some anime and listening to some music, I felt much better.
So I realized there's not only Comfort Food, there's other "Comfort stuff", too.

Comfort Food
I grew up with my Canadian relations, so Mac & Cheese (or Kraft Dinner, how's it called in Canada) is definitely comfort food for me. (Unless I eat too much of it.) Then there's also Lasagne - made by my mum, of course.
Chicken Soup is a favourite, too (this one seems to be nearly international), especially chicken noodle soup.
Something that always reminds me of my childhood is bread and gravy, it's basically just dipping good bread (without butter) into good gravy. It's something you only get in a family home, with left-over gravy.

Now over to the sweet stuff. Hot chocolate of course! Ice cream in summer.
Then there's "Pudding" which in German means something else than what you'd probably think of in English. It's a creamy dessert. Hot chocolate pudding - that one's probably my number one sweet comfort food. Followed by Grießbrei (a sweet semolina pudding) and sweet rice pudding - hot or cold.

I can't cook, so either these foods I only get at home, or they're convenient food. Mac & Cheese only counts as the convenience food by Kraft.

Comfort Movies, TV and books
The publishing company who publishes Bollywood movies in Germany has "Bollywood macht glücklich" (Bollywood makes you happy) as a slogan. And it is true - if you have enough time to spare for a traditional Bollywood movie, which usually last about 3 hours. The average Bollywood movie is a "masala movie, which means it has a bit of everything, and probably a happy ending. My favourites are probably Main Hoon Na and Paheli.
Then there's a couple of fantasy movies from my childhood, like Labyrinth and Willow, the one or other odd newer movie (like Penelope) and a few Ghibli movies, especially Howl's Moving Castle (you can read about the movie and the book in my recent blog post, too).

A few years back, when I was suffering from depression, one of the only things that made me laugh was Ranma 1/2. I got to the TV everyday in time to watch it, and dearly missed it on the weekend. It was my first anime. but nowadays other series took its place: I'm currently re-watching and enjoying Saiunkoku Monogatari. Ah, who wouldn't love some Seiran in their life?
I've also been thinking about watching Star Trek - The Next Generation. I only have one DVD box, so I've been thinking about buying the complete series. Star Trek TNG is a special TV series, one in a million. Not only is it Star Trek and has great actors like Patrick Stewart. I really appreciate the philosophy behind it (and agree with much of it) and the wisdom it countain; and what makes it a comfort TV series is the underlying positive attitude.


Then there's books. The perfect way to flee from reality.
Lord of the Rings: long enough to get you through some serious troubled times. That one helped me a lot when I was suffering from depression and living far from my home and family. Sometimes I think it saved my life. I got through the day because then I could go home and read.
Howl's Moving Castle is another one of these books. And books by Terry Pratchett; not all, but many.

Comfort Music
Queen of course. Queen has been with me all my life - it's hard to describe what their music means to me. When I hear Freddie's voice, I feel my shoulders relax and it all doesn't seem half that bad. It reminds me of my childhood, safe, carefree times.
Then there's Bruce Springsteen - he's also connceted to happy childhood memories. But also some of his newer songs have that uprising "Yes, we can" spirit.
Also, maybe Marillion.

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Do you think you're better ev'ry day? No, I just think I'm two steps nearer to my grave.

I was told a million times
Of all the troubles in my way
How I had to keep on trying
Little better ev'ry day
But if I crossed a million rivers
And I rode a million miles
Then I'd still be where I started

I've already blogged on my opinion about the pressure to be ambitious and "great" here, and Keep Yourself Alive fits nicely into this (though of course Queen and Freddie Mercury are a bad example).

Well they say your folks are telling you
To be a super star
But I tell you just be satisfied
To stay right where you are

The rest of the first Queen album is great, too. It's not what you'd expect from Queen if you only know their Greatest Hits, I guess. But there's many great songs like Liar, Doing All Right, The Night comes Down and the very metal Modern times Rock 'n' Roll.
To me it's a very "fantasy" kind of album (though not as much as Queen II) and of course there's a great deal of nostalgia and childhood happiness involved (as with most of the Queen albums).
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Goin' Back

I think I'm going back
To the things I learnt so well in my youth.
I think I'm returning to
Those days when I was young enough to know the truth.

Now there are no games,
To only pass the time.
No more colouring books,
No Christmas bells to chime.
But thinking young and growing older is no sin.
And I can't play the game of life to win.

I can recall a time,
When I wasn't ashamed to reach out to a friend.
And now I think I've got
A lot more than just my toys to lend.

Now there's more to do
Than watch my sailboat glide.
And every day can be
My magic carpet ride.
And I can play hide and seek with my fears,
And live my days instead of counting my years.

Then everyone debates the true reality,
I'd rather see the world, the way it used to be.
A little bit of freedom's all we lack,
So catch me if you can, I'm going back.




I really like this song. Not only Freddie's voice and the music (I'm aware it's a cover).
Sometimes I wish I could revive those childhood days. There seemed to be no sorrows. When was the last time I played a game, just to pass the time? The last time I was drawing something? And wasn't it so much easier to say "do you want to be friends" back then? When is the last time I was running - just for fun? Sometimes I see a playground and I want to go there, climb on things, get on the swing (maybe I will some time when no one is around).
I think I really had a happy childhood and I'm grateful for that. Read more on this article...