At sea

Tonight I spent some time considering the ambiguousness of my position. I'm starting to learn street names around Kiel, and can successfully order myself a sandwich or an ice cream cone or a new Fahrkarte. At the same time, I'm still working how to open a bus door from the inside, and also sorting and taking care of the trash/recyclables.

It's very strange to have to concentrate really hard just to eavesdrop a little on the street.

The nature of life lends itself to the normalization of new experiences. I've been here a week and a day, and already things feel familiar. I haven't yet had all of my classes, and yet it comes as a shock to remember how far away I am from home, and how many new things I've seen in such a short time. Here I'm not completely comfortable in my own skin all the time, but I slip into autopilot often enough that the everyday is feeling very natural. And how weird is that?

Ah, introspection. Maybe I should stick to one glass of wine with dinner.

On the other hand, I feel poetic. Waiting for the bus tonight I saw a constellation of swans bobbing on the waterfront. One ghost in adult plumage and five full-sized cygnets of varying ages, still showing mostly a downy gray. The evening ferry floated past, decorated with strings of lights and candles in the windows. Of course I didn't have my camera. Next time...

I can see the moon from my window. It looks the same. That's both refreshing and almost disappointing.

***

Oh, and something else... I need a choir. The 1990 Chamber Singers version of Brahms' "Warum ist das licht gegeben den Museligen" came up on the playlist this afternoon. I found myself torn away from the article I was reading again and again until I finally gave up and just listened. I felt a rush of anticipation at every entrance, and recalled the emotional heft of the piece with such clarity that at times I was barely breathing. "Denn der Herr ist barmherzig und ein erbarmer..."

I think the church choir sings on Saturday evening mass, since Sunday morning was a cantor and the congregation. Saturday is phone call night, but maybe that can be flexible. In the bulletin there was a one-page advertisement for "Chor-Schnupper-Samstag," which is apparently a potluck get-together with plow-throughs of liturgical works. The next one (Sept. 17) is some time away, but I think I'll have to pencil that one in. Until then I'll survive on my mp3's...

Oh, oh oh oh oh, how I need a choir.