COLOGNE, GERMANY

2016-08-14, 11:31, JASON

BUDGET, STAY: MEININGER HOTEL

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We flew into Cologne from a busy Copenhagen airport. This was the first time Thorin was in Germany, and my second time. The other time was back in 2008 when I went with a church group, at the ripe age of 18 and not having had the wonders of beer or wine touch my virgin lips. Since then, I'd traveled the world a bit more, actually had a few sips or chugs of alcohol, and have also come out and been openly gay. It was only appropriate to be returning to Germany together with my partner, and to the gay capital of Germany, with the intention to drink.

Firstly, I want to say the concept of German punctuality or efficiency, as a foreigner, eludes me. Despite efforts post-war to make Germany not very nationalistic (and, it really isn't, you don't see many flags around or "German Pride" like you see 'US PRIDE!!'), there is one stronghold in the country still and it is language. Germans are so German, in the same way the Russians are so themselves and likewise the Chinese, in that they express themselves, communicate, breathe, and move through a German-speaking world. This is an obvious statement, like, "Yeah, Germans speak German." But what I'm really getting at more is the impermeability of English in the daily life. Language grants you access to the community. In our encounters, we met very few people who spoke very good English, although their communicative competence in English still far surpassed our German. Again, a privilege check for growing up in an English-speaking country, a country that dominates our world and serves as the lingua franca for tourism. My observations thus of a lack of efficiency arose not because German efficiency as a concept is in fact a myth (I'll need to ask a German to clarify) from the fact that I physically did not have access to this efficiency, and thus, it had escaped me. And, we were both cognizant of this when we tried to get from the airport into our hotel area, near Barbarossaplatz. What we failed to realize was that there was a transfer between the U and S bahn tracks, and so we spent a good 10 minutes trying to figure this out first, and then another 5 asking a lady with a thick German-inflected English accent about how to go. They were awfully kind to us.

The weather was in a state of its own. It wasn't the occasional loud shower and then bright, sunshiney day. It was that doldrum of incessant gray sky and an ever so light sprinkle, strong enough to warrant use of a rain jacket. Since our hostel was about a 20 minute walk from the city center, defined as pretty much Cologne Cathedral and everything around it, we decided to head to a meal first down the street, recommended by our hostel. Supposedly, a local meal. Thorin and I ordered, of course, some sausage based thing and potato salad dish.

We all know that American portions are huge. In a land of width-wise giants, more food is always a good thing. We remembered how often we would get to-goes since we couldn't finish the portion, snack on that portion, and eat it later. TGI Fridays on the Sunday night with friends (for ironic purposes), Chili's for their margarita, in the suburb eating was a way to pass the time and spend time with friends, all while chowing down a wide plate of fries, a burger, sauce, and probably a few bevvies . I sometimes wonder where we put it all, but it went down there, somewhere. Strange enough, although my impression of Western Europe was that portions are also quite small, in Germany, at least for food, they were quite big. The pork knuckles you get, the sausages, everything seems to be fit-for-the-people. The funny thing is, in Cologne, the smallest thing you have on the table is the local Kölsch beer glass, which comes in a small, perfectly cylindrical container about 200 mL big. I suppose when it gets warmer in the south, you don't want a huge glass to warm up before you get to the bottom, so you have smaller portions to finish prior to getting a refill. Plus, it's easier to chug that way without getting that bloated stomach. So here we were, with a relatively large sausage (interpret that however you want), potato salad (heavy in cream), and a tiny little lager. We looked at the portions of other dishes around and they were all huge in comparison to ours. It almost felt like America, but everyone was, you know, liberal.

Afterwards, we decided to walk into the city center to check out the cathedral. Around the town there's not much, it's a low-built town with small shops along the side, with the occasional supermarket or shopping mall nearby. The town itself looked drab in the weather we were in, but I imagine as a city that gets quite a bit of sunshine, there is a lot more to do. So, we trod along the near empty streets through the town, passing by some anachronistic churches interspersed among modern cafés. When we finally arrive at the Cologne Cathedral, we lose our breaths a bit at the sheer grandiosity of the thing. Just a few days prior, we were looking at the world's tallest building in Dubai. A day later, here we were taking a marvel at a former world's tallest building, but made when modern machinery didn't assist, in this wonderful Gothic style. It's like someone took it out of a 1700s Gotham City and planted it into the center of the modern city. The details on the thing are exquisite too, all the way from the base to the very top, each inch is carved with something spectacular, with the occasional gargoyle sticking out of it as well. I always joke that some buildings can be seen in photograph, but something about standing their in the presence of hundreds of years of handiwork at the hands of hundreds is inspiring. Humans, in particular, Europeans, really knew how to do religion and churches well. There's nothing left for me to describe in words. 

The cathedral really anchors the old town portion of Cologne, and for about another 0.5 mile radius, around it are tiny cafés and shops that residents and tourists alike are chilling at to soak in the European rains. The youth are out on the grass having a picnic when the clouds clear for a tiny spot of sunshine. Thorin and I take a walk around the old town, too broke to afford anything around since we'd be spending the next day in Frankfurt to see some friends. We take some photographic memories with us -- these are priceless 

Walking around Cologne, we noticed a few interesting points. The first is gay culture here, and how absolutely open the place is with them. The place is teeming with GAYS EVERYWHERE. From walking to the cathedral, we saw a middle-aged gay couple. Then walking down the street we saw a young gay couple. It's refreshing to see this after having lived in Singapore for so long, where most gay couples do not exist out in the open because of social consequences. I'm not sure if San Francisco had this amount of openness, since I've never lived there, nor am I sure about NYC, but in Cologne it was fairly visible and, from what it seemed, a very active presence in the city.

The next is that Germans are actually very nice. Overly nice, in fact. Even though our German was suck nasty they made their best efforts to communicate with us in English. In a strange twist of sense, we actually ended up getting by more on our Spanish than we did our English since some of them have studied it in school. They actually have quite a playful air about them, too. A kind of Western European joviality or cheekiness to their demeanor. They don't take themselves too seriously, which I like. This contrasted with what I thought was a more rough demeanor, a more cold or stern manner that was characteristic of them in maybe cartoons or through word of mouth. Actually, thinking about it, I'm not sure where this stereotype comes from. Perhaps it's an older image of German nationhood post-war, but the modern German was actually completely opposite.

As I said earlier, the permeation of German language is quite strong. Being from the U.S., I surrounded myself with a lot of Asian American folks who have shared in their dual-ethnic experiences, and have also criticized alongside them treatment of minorities in a white-majority country. So, much of my understanding of the minority experience is shaped around American identity. In Cologne, we noticed a lot of people of Asian descent speaking German. Now, this is not so surprising, of course, if you live in Germany, you speak the language. What I was surprised by was just the general Asian diaspora assimilating into the local culture by speaking German. And, many people had mixed friends. We saw Asian folks hanging out with other white Germans, with other brown Germans, and also each other. It was this weird mix of seeing a minority -- my minority -- in the flesh but having a completely different dual-ethnic identity. I wish I had the courage to go up to them and ask what their experience must have been growing up non-white in Germany. If they struggled with their own identity; how tightly they hold on to their Asian side, if at all. Oh, and get this, I even saw a gay, interracial couple, Asian and white, openly holding hands, and it wasn't the product of some fetishized affair. Talk about double points, Cologne.

So needless to say, despite the weather, we were very impressed with the city. The next day brought with it still more rain, but we decided to visit the old town again since we enjoyed it so much. The cathedral, seeing it for the second time, still had maintained all its wonder in my eyes. Still, every intricate detail fascinated me, from the etchings on the buttress to the large belfry towers that seemed to loom overhead, contrasted with a gray sky. What do people do, then, when it's raining outside? We go into the church, and climb the belfry tower. The website said it would take about one hour to climb, but perhaps that's in times of heavier traffic. The uphill journey takes about 10 minutes for a nonstop climb, but given the vantage point halfway, and of course at the top, the entire journey can take probably one hour up and down -- maybe that's what the estimate meant. Maybe they are efficient, after all.

The view at the top is just as stunning as that from the bottom. Even at the apex of the belfry tower, there are carvings of gargoyles and fine details carved into the church walls. A unique addition to the carvings are decades of graffiti drawn on and layered by various tourists over the years to Cologne Cathedral. Couples from Japan, from China, from all over Europe, the Africas. Singletons from the same places who have climbed the stairs themselves and made a mark. People have come from all over the world to admire this religious institution, and reading through them was like a brief walk through the past. The areas of the belfry tower further from the viewing platforom had since been sectioned off with a fence, and so the markings on the cathedral wall from these patrons date back to the 80s. The view from the tower was also beautiful. A quiet, cold day in Cologne, gray skies, but with a muted clarity and fuzziness from the perpetual drizzle.

After the ambitious climb, we decide -- in German fashion -- to grab a beer. The city is still wet and groggy, so we go back around the downtown area and duck into a small cafe owned by a Turkish-German woman who speaks not a word of English. The menu is a lot of pointing and ordering, but we finally order two ham toasties and, of course, two bottles of the Kolsch beer. We sit and relax.

Halfway through, a Chinese family walks in and they begin ordering. Watching the English lingua-franca dance, as I call it, is amazing. It's the wonderful connection you observe when two cultures whose native language is not English converse in English. Business is business, and so the transaction must be made, but as humans we have come to rely so much on language that it's difficult to express ourselves without it. Nonetheless, our body language -- maybe our metalanguage or paralanguage, if we can call it that -- still comes through sometime. A lot of pointing, a lot of shaking of a head, but in the end the transaction goes through. The business person gets the money. The businessed person gets theier food. This Chinese family then takes a seat next to us. They give me some strange looks, unsure as to whether or not I can speak their language, so I just begin talking to them in Chinese.

A lovely family from Xi'an, in Shaanxi province, they have all come to visit one of the group member's husband, who is currently working in Cologne. They talk to us about their travels so far doing a road trip across Europe and how much they love it. There are two daughters who are at first shy, but eventually feel more comfortable and open up to us in Chinese. They even go so far as to speak to Thorin in English, of which they are both learning but still don't feel confident in their abilities. Thorin tries his Chinese as well, and, once the floodgates of the "Oh, you speak Chinese?" open, the people start talking to him nonstop in Chinese, at a faster pace than at his level of comprehension. What I noticed about the Chinese is how inviting they are to you after you meet them once. They exchanged their WeChat messaging with us and invited us to go to Xi'an anytime we wanted, and they would show us around. I'm not sure if this is a genuine invitation but, in this case, I'll take the thought. It's what counts, anyway, right?

After a lazy afternoon, we decide to get our ass up out of the cafe and go to a restaurant instead to have some food. In Cologne, they are known for a dish called Himmel und aad (two umlauts on the "aa"), which translates to heaven and earth. It's essentially this wonderful dish of mashed potatoes, some applesauce, and a blood sausage. Supposedly, the apples represent the heaven, the potatoes the earth, and, well I'm not sure about the blood sausage but I'm sure someone has written an anthology about the food. The point is, it's probably one of the most delicious things I've ever had. It's been about 1.5 years since Thorin and I have had a black-pudding style blood sausage, and eating it was both nostalgic and delicious - a psychological and physical HEALING. Coupled with it was a Met Happen, which is a kind of salted raw meat, eaten on top of a bread witih some butter on it. For those with an adventurous palette, the way I'd describe it is kind of like German sashimi. There was a bit of onion interspersed in the meat as well. Perfect for the weather.

After dinner, the weather had cleared up a bit so we decided to continue walking around the city. There was a new development area called Rheinauhafen that we checked out. I can't really describe it. It was along the Rheine River, and it was a bunch of new-age kind of Scandinavian-inspired architecture with a little bit more disorder to it. Big L-shaped buildings extending from their base and kinking overhead so that they sheltered overhead, as well as new buildings aligned all along the walk. The entire stretch was probably about 1 or 1.5 kilometers, and it was nice in the weather, which was still gray but had stopped raining - finally. I know I keep going on about the weather, don't I. Anyway, that was done and then we decided to walk back to the hostel. 

That about wraps up our experience in Cologne. Beers, churches, and new Chinese friends. Onto Frankfurt.

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Cologne, surprisingly nonfragrant.