Editor's Note: This was supposed to be Saturday's blog, but due to technical difficulties (my computer had an error joining the hostel's wireless network), I couldn't post it til now. Sunday's blog is on the way, but first I need to iron my suit and shirt for my first day of work tomorrow.
OK, so I got myself about a half-hour’s extra sleep and took the 7:13 train to Berlin. Now while my train experiences have been pretty much limited to the DC – NY and Lorton (VA) – Sanford (FL) routes, I’ve taken them quite a bit and consider them to be a fair representation of the American train riding experience.
On American trains, the first one or two cars (depending upon the length of the route) are typically first class. Then you have the quiet and food cars, and then coach. So when I boarded the train, given the short length of the route, I got on the second car cause I figured it was either the quiet or food car. However, upon entering the car, I saw most of the seats were unfilled and quite spacious. “This is still first class,” I thought to myself, “But let me check.” So after pulling out my handy-dandy English-German pocket translator, which showed the German phrase for “First Class” (“erste Klasse”), one of the ladies nearby gave the semblance of what looked to be a yes answer in German. So I walked about two cars down. It looked the same, so I though to myself, “Did I misinterpret what the lady said? Is the whole train like this? Sweet!” Again, I asked one of the nearby ladies if this was first class. She spoke a little English and she said to just sit and when the conductor comes by to stamp your ticket, if he doesn’t tell you to move, then you’re in the right place. Ha, we do the same thing in America…nice to know, across the world, some things never change. About two minutes later, along comes the conductor and sure enough, I was in the wrong class.
First observation about European trains: It’s not “coach”, its “second class”
The conductor then said I needed to go to car number 8.
Second observation: First class is 6 cars deep.
While walking through first class and its spacious seats, the hallway moves to one side and you see these six seat sections where a small group of people can reserve to have a space of their own or pop champagne if they want (I kid you not).
[I would make this another observation, but I can’t say with certainty that American trains don’t have these sections (or that people don’t pop champagne on American trains). I know we have sleeper cars, but I haven’t seen them on this train. I’m sure they have them on longer distance trains though.]
After arriving in the “second class” section, I see that it’s about 80 percent full and it seemed all the open seats were on the aisle. I was looking for an empty row of those seats that face each other with the table in between, After walking a bit, I found an open row by one of those tables. I asked the lady on the other side if they were taken and she said something in German and pointed up.
Third observation: They have reserved seats.
Between Frankfurt and Berlin, there are a number of small stops. People on these in-between stops can reserve a seat and then on the little electronic ticker-tape next to the seat number, it’ll say the start and end destination for the traveler (I’m guessing they give you a seat number and you don’t just find a seat with a matching start and end destination when you board the train). Now, whether or not the actual rules permit you to sit in one of those seats before the “reserved” traveler arrives…I don’t know. But, all across the train, people were sitting in those seats.
But still, I kept walking and after hitting a number of people on the arm with my bag as I passed, I realized I needed to find a seat. Again, I found another open row by a table, but for this one, only the window was reserved. “This’ll work,” I thought so I put my bag up top and sat down. I closed my eyes for about 5 minutes then I realized…I sat across from a mother and 4- to 5-year old daughter combination. Both were resting and the mother, who was across from me, had her feet all up in my foot space. Now normally (i.e.) when I’m in America, I usually non-verbally mark my territory by rather purposefully (and without making eye contact) moving my feet to the boundary of my area. But I’m in another country and I don’t know custom…so I let I ride out. If only I could have been so lucky that that was my only concern with the two of them during the ride…
About 10 minutes later, I realized this was a somewhat loud mother and 4- to 5-year old daughter combination. I realized this from the outburst-filled German reading lesson being conducted across the table. And mind you, I label them both as being loud—not because the mother was even halfway as loud as the daughter, but because the mother wouldn’t check the daughter properly when she would…
• point at pictures in the book and yell loudly;
• put her feet on the table, repeatedly;
• stand in the chair and yell out nursery rhymes;
• jump from standing position to her knees on the chair
• lay on the floor under the table;
• look at people through the hole of the pretzels she was eating, while on the floor under the table;
• try to fit 16 oz. plastic water bottles in the 6” by 4” trash compartment on the table;
• bang on the trash compartment lid when the top wouldn’t close;
• rip up sheets of newspaper just to fill the trash compartment;
• slam the trash compartment closed every time she had around 10 ripped up newspaper sheets;
• try to snatch books from the mother’s book bag, after the mother would put them in the bag;
• etcetera
Maybe it ain’t so nice to know, across the world, some things never change.
Somehow, during the maelstrom that was the seat across from me, I managed to catch the semblance of a semi-nap. But it was bad I tell you. I kept having musings of what I would do if I was the parent. And mind you, I don’t see myself spanking/whipping my child…especially a daughter of mine. But it would have gone DOWN if she were my kid. Then I started thinking about clever ways in which I could literally terrify this child into silence. This was my favorite:
I’d go to the bathroom and take my tape recorder. And, in the deepest voice I could conjure, I would say gory Hansel & Gretel phrases about what I do to loud children…
[In super deep, vampire-like voice] “I love little girly fingernails. The snapping sound of the nail as I separate it from their little chubby fingers fills me with nothing but utter joy. Yes, YES…go ahead and yell. Music to my ears. And that little leg of yours…muwahahahaha! When I’m done devouring you, there won’t be anything left for your mother to cry over. I’ll eat your skin, your bones, your hair and use your clothes to wipe the blood from my lips…muwahahahahahaha”
I would then return to my seat, and without saying a word, put the tape recorder on the table, close my eyes like I was taking a nap, and press play.
It made me even chuckle a little. But my tape recorder was in the upper compartment and I didn’t speak German, so I decided against it. I again wondered if this was a cultural thing that Germans, or even Europeans, saw as acceptable. But I caught a couple askance glances from the nearby passengers, so I think this was just kids gone wild. With about half an hour left in the trip, I couldn’t take it anymore. And rather than risk the possibility of getting into a double-language shouting match with the mother with no spine on my first European train trip, I moved to another car.
I don’t know, maybe the girl had somehow demonstrated to her mother that she was a genius and needed the freedom to be able to allow her genius to develop in her 4-year old mind…but I seriously doubt it. On second thought, no. Geniuses need discipline as well if they are to achieve their full potential. This girl was just plain bad and unrestrained.
I wish I could write more about the train experience, but this little girl ruined it for me, and now everyone seeing that the viewers at home have been forced to endure this tirade of a blog. My bad.
Cheers.
OK, so I got myself about a half-hour’s extra sleep and took the 7:13 train to Berlin. Now while my train experiences have been pretty much limited to the DC – NY and Lorton (VA) – Sanford (FL) routes, I’ve taken them quite a bit and consider them to be a fair representation of the American train riding experience.
On American trains, the first one or two cars (depending upon the length of the route) are typically first class. Then you have the quiet and food cars, and then coach. So when I boarded the train, given the short length of the route, I got on the second car cause I figured it was either the quiet or food car. However, upon entering the car, I saw most of the seats were unfilled and quite spacious. “This is still first class,” I thought to myself, “But let me check.” So after pulling out my handy-dandy English-German pocket translator, which showed the German phrase for “First Class” (“erste Klasse”), one of the ladies nearby gave the semblance of what looked to be a yes answer in German. So I walked about two cars down. It looked the same, so I though to myself, “Did I misinterpret what the lady said? Is the whole train like this? Sweet!” Again, I asked one of the nearby ladies if this was first class. She spoke a little English and she said to just sit and when the conductor comes by to stamp your ticket, if he doesn’t tell you to move, then you’re in the right place. Ha, we do the same thing in America…nice to know, across the world, some things never change. About two minutes later, along comes the conductor and sure enough, I was in the wrong class.
First observation about European trains: It’s not “coach”, its “second class”
The conductor then said I needed to go to car number 8.
Second observation: First class is 6 cars deep.
While walking through first class and its spacious seats, the hallway moves to one side and you see these six seat sections where a small group of people can reserve to have a space of their own or pop champagne if they want (I kid you not).
[I would make this another observation, but I can’t say with certainty that American trains don’t have these sections (or that people don’t pop champagne on American trains). I know we have sleeper cars, but I haven’t seen them on this train. I’m sure they have them on longer distance trains though.]
After arriving in the “second class” section, I see that it’s about 80 percent full and it seemed all the open seats were on the aisle. I was looking for an empty row of those seats that face each other with the table in between, After walking a bit, I found an open row by one of those tables. I asked the lady on the other side if they were taken and she said something in German and pointed up.
Third observation: They have reserved seats.
Between Frankfurt and Berlin, there are a number of small stops. People on these in-between stops can reserve a seat and then on the little electronic ticker-tape next to the seat number, it’ll say the start and end destination for the traveler (I’m guessing they give you a seat number and you don’t just find a seat with a matching start and end destination when you board the train). Now, whether or not the actual rules permit you to sit in one of those seats before the “reserved” traveler arrives…I don’t know. But, all across the train, people were sitting in those seats.
But still, I kept walking and after hitting a number of people on the arm with my bag as I passed, I realized I needed to find a seat. Again, I found another open row by a table, but for this one, only the window was reserved. “This’ll work,” I thought so I put my bag up top and sat down. I closed my eyes for about 5 minutes then I realized…I sat across from a mother and 4- to 5-year old daughter combination. Both were resting and the mother, who was across from me, had her feet all up in my foot space. Now normally (i.e.) when I’m in America, I usually non-verbally mark my territory by rather purposefully (and without making eye contact) moving my feet to the boundary of my area. But I’m in another country and I don’t know custom…so I let I ride out. If only I could have been so lucky that that was my only concern with the two of them during the ride…
About 10 minutes later, I realized this was a somewhat loud mother and 4- to 5-year old daughter combination. I realized this from the outburst-filled German reading lesson being conducted across the table. And mind you, I label them both as being loud—not because the mother was even halfway as loud as the daughter, but because the mother wouldn’t check the daughter properly when she would…
• point at pictures in the book and yell loudly;
• put her feet on the table, repeatedly;
• stand in the chair and yell out nursery rhymes;
• jump from standing position to her knees on the chair
• lay on the floor under the table;
• look at people through the hole of the pretzels she was eating, while on the floor under the table;
• try to fit 16 oz. plastic water bottles in the 6” by 4” trash compartment on the table;
• bang on the trash compartment lid when the top wouldn’t close;
• rip up sheets of newspaper just to fill the trash compartment;
• slam the trash compartment closed every time she had around 10 ripped up newspaper sheets;
• try to snatch books from the mother’s book bag, after the mother would put them in the bag;
• etcetera
Maybe it ain’t so nice to know, across the world, some things never change.
Somehow, during the maelstrom that was the seat across from me, I managed to catch the semblance of a semi-nap. But it was bad I tell you. I kept having musings of what I would do if I was the parent. And mind you, I don’t see myself spanking/whipping my child…especially a daughter of mine. But it would have gone DOWN if she were my kid. Then I started thinking about clever ways in which I could literally terrify this child into silence. This was my favorite:
I’d go to the bathroom and take my tape recorder. And, in the deepest voice I could conjure, I would say gory Hansel & Gretel phrases about what I do to loud children…
[In super deep, vampire-like voice] “I love little girly fingernails. The snapping sound of the nail as I separate it from their little chubby fingers fills me with nothing but utter joy. Yes, YES…go ahead and yell. Music to my ears. And that little leg of yours…muwahahahaha! When I’m done devouring you, there won’t be anything left for your mother to cry over. I’ll eat your skin, your bones, your hair and use your clothes to wipe the blood from my lips…muwahahahahahaha”
I would then return to my seat, and without saying a word, put the tape recorder on the table, close my eyes like I was taking a nap, and press play.
It made me even chuckle a little. But my tape recorder was in the upper compartment and I didn’t speak German, so I decided against it. I again wondered if this was a cultural thing that Germans, or even Europeans, saw as acceptable. But I caught a couple askance glances from the nearby passengers, so I think this was just kids gone wild. With about half an hour left in the trip, I couldn’t take it anymore. And rather than risk the possibility of getting into a double-language shouting match with the mother with no spine on my first European train trip, I moved to another car.
I don’t know, maybe the girl had somehow demonstrated to her mother that she was a genius and needed the freedom to be able to allow her genius to develop in her 4-year old mind…but I seriously doubt it. On second thought, no. Geniuses need discipline as well if they are to achieve their full potential. This girl was just plain bad and unrestrained.
I wish I could write more about the train experience, but this little girl ruined it for me, and now everyone seeing that the viewers at home have been forced to endure this tirade of a blog. My bad.
Cheers.
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5 comments:
**thinkin: sounds like fred got punked by a lil girl**
Speechless.
*Note to self: Never let Fred near my daughter.
yeah, cause I'mma mush her
Ummm... no kids for u
WPs are universal son!
Don't threaten my futuristic daughter!!
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