Amber's Trip to Germany - March 2009

Amber came to Bonn in March, where we went to the Arithmeum, the Bonn Museum of Modern History, the Bonn Cathedral, the Cologne Cathedral, the Museum Ludwig, my favorite restaurants, the Ha-Ri-Bo candy store, dinner with my academic sponsor, the only Mexican food restaurant in Bonn and spent a lot of time watching Boston Legal at home as well. There may be a lot of difficult things about this year, but we did a lot that visit and it was her first time to Europe, so it should be memorialized.

Amber just outside the Museum Ludwig in Cologne.

Amber and the rather amazing Cologne Cathedral.

Amber waiting on the train to Cologne. It wound up being a more expensive train than we had paid for, but they were kind enough not to charge us the difference.

Amber and the Poppelsdorffer Schloss.

Amber and the Moat.

Amber with the Hausdorff Institute.

Amber at the Da Vinci coffee shop where they had her favorite hot chocolate.

Amber and the main University building.

Amber and the Rhein River.

Amber in Beethoven's garden.

At the Beethovenhaus.

Amber proudly showing her conquest.

Amber begrudgingly agreeing to drink fizzy water.

Amber upon arriving in Bonn.

The First Weekend.

Upon heading out Thursday, April 23rd, I arrived after the most uneventful trip of my life from Europe to the United States at the RDU airport around 9 PM. Amber arrived around 9:30 PM to pick me up with Mindy, who seemed quite excited I was home, and after a quick run home to drop off my things took me to an event she had been at earlier in the evening. It was a send-off party at a fellow MBA's house where people were playing games and generally excited to be almost done with their classes. Obviously since it was about 4 AM for me, I was less chipper than most. Let's just say people were so happy you would have thought the people playing Settler's of Catan were playing something more like beer pong. However, I sat down at a poker table, won a few chips, donated some money to the host's chipstack throughout the night and eventually bet everything I had on a few hands of garbage to distribute my chips to people who could keep their eyes open.

The following morning, in a rather delusional state I found myself leaving a rather sad Mindy at home to get on a plane to San Francisco. After arriving around 6 PM or so at my friend Chris' apartment in Oakland, we drove past my old apartment and ate at the Can't Fail Cafe in Emeryville. Now, the Can't Fail Cafe is this little diner with great food just near the Pixar campus my wife and I discovered very early on in our marriage. For a long time it was our favorite place to go when we did not feel like eating at home, and eventually Chris and I starting eating there after our bi-weekly tennis matches/mutual counseling sessions. So, being back there after two years with so many memories really meant a lot to me. It was hard actually to swallow the lump in my throat that formed when I saw the place I consider to be my first real home.

After fighting off sleep awaiting the arrival of my friend's G & J who were also visiting the Bay Area that weekend, eventually I dozed off for what turned out to be not particularly long given that I had a very hard time sleeping past 4 AM for the first 5-6 days of the trip. However, this wound up being a benefit, given that it took me about two hours to get from Lake Merritt to my conference at San Francisco State University that morning.

Upon arriving early, I made sure things were all in order with our conference room, drank a few cups of cheap conference coffee, introduced myself to speakers we slowly filtered in the building, and happily observed as a number of our invited speakers gave very interesting talks. Sadly, there is not much of campus corner near SFSU, so our whole conference meandered to a food court at a nearby mall to eat lunch. It is a strange sight seeing a bunch of mathematicians trying to decide where to eat in a mall food court. Later that evening, I met up with my friends for a delightful dinner with a rather pleasant bottle of wine at Greens Restaurant in the Marina District, then eventually caught up to talk shop with a number of my conference attendees over a beer at 21st Amendment Pub.

The next morning, the BART was shut down when I arrived for the purpose of doing some maintenance. As a result, I had quite a journey. First, I asked a bus driver for a nearby Transbay line. She told me to hop on and she would take me to one, which she did. So, I hopped on the F line to get to Embarcadero Station. From there, I tried to get on a MUNI line, but all the change machines were closed and my supply was limited. After wondering around the Financial District for the only Starbucks open on Sunday morning, I finally got my change and was able to get a MUNI to the conference. I arrived at 8:59 AM for the 9:00 AM talk.

After another successful session of morning talks, I met some friends for lunch, went to Oakland for my things and eventually took Chris' car to my cousin's house for a long overdue reunion. Due to other obligations, I had not had the chance to see them since I had arrived on Friday night, but entering their house was quite a pleasant feeling. See, when I first moved to Berkeley, I never would have made it without my cousins. Since I lived down the street, I spent many a weekend there doing laundry, went on many a family trip, watched their kids grow up and developed a cherished friendship with all of them. When I arrived, we went right back to that place, despite the fact that I had two years of catching up to do with L & J, their kids who had experienced many changes as all teenagers are wont to do in 2 years time.

The night was a simply barbeque with some old friends, but made me feel so happy to be back somewhere familiar, brought up the memories of a number of old stories, gave time for the telling of new stories and generally reminded me that my past life of having a home and roots really did exist. It was insane to see how much had changed in everyone, but also to appreciate the things that remained remarkably similar. It was just a beautiful experience. Even their rescued poodle Archie seemed to remember me and welcome me back with open paws, but that could have simply been because he knew I would be easily suckered in to letting his sleep with me, which indeed I was throughout the week.

My book review of Herzog.

So, the post I will get to tonight regards the fact that on my trip I finished the book Herzog by Saul Bellow. This beautifully written and poignant novel follows the painful and chaotic journey to forgiveness and redemption of the highly intelligent, yet often overly sentimental and perpetually distracted, Professor Moses Herzog in recovering from his rather brutally unsuccessful second marriage. He has found himself in a state of constant agitation, low on money and at a great distance from both his children who he actually wants nothing more than to care for properly. Most of his days are spent wildly oscillating between anguish, rage, self-pity, insightfulness and reflection. As I said, at times this character seemed to be in my thoughts in ways that were all too difficult to bear. Despite the beauty of his depictions of the people, cities and memories he drifted in and out of contact with throughout the novel, I found myself praying for relief both for him and myself. As a result, it took longer to get through this book than I had anticipated. Although the ending is not exaclty what I would call happy, I would like to think Moses had come through his journey of self-awareness and was truly rounding the corner to recovery and forgiveness. Hopefully, a painful car accident is not required to do the same for me, but there was something rather sweet and simple in accepting what you have, where you are and starting to take small steps towards becoming what you would like to be. And for those of you who have read the book, I close with the following:

Dear Moses,

Thank you for the brutally honest and emotional look into your psyche, which all too often reminded of my own.

Sincerely,

Jeremy L. Marzuola

On the road again...

So, I know I have been lax on my blogging, but it has been kind of a crazy 3 weeks or so for me. In that time, I have attended my wife's MBA graduation, posted 2 papers and started a new one, seen the Pacific and Atlantic Oceans, eaten raw oysters on vacation in Georgia and vegetarian burritos during a conference break in San Francisco, met a host of new people who have been a huge part of my wife's life for two years, seen some very old and dear friends who were a huge part of my past life, developed a somewhat severe cold and faced directly the pain and realities of the past two years of traveling on my relationship and personality.



It has been incredibly exhausting, but, most likely slowly over the course of the next few weeks, I will write about all the experiences I had on this trip. For now, I am glad to be on the last leg of this journey in my life, having taken the transatlantic flight one last time to finally come home in September. Being back in Germany has a sense of familiarity and comfort to it at this point, but now that both my wife and parents have been here there are also ghosts of the life to which I need and want to return after all of this. On one hand, I am glad not to have lost all my German, but on another hand, it is hard to be back here where I feel so alone. At least my infection is finally breaking loose today, so I was able to take a walk, get a bit of sun and go to the bookstore, one of the activities I always find most calming.

Jet Lag.

Well, after a brief stopover in Durham, I am here in Oakland struggling against the 9 hour time difference to my internal clock. I was actually able to stay up until a reasonable hour, but now I am up at 5 AM unable to go back to sleep. On the one hand, I should be able to make it to my conference on time. On the other hand, I will likely need some strong stimulants to keep me going. Hopefully the recovery will be fast.

A Brief Note.

Tomorrow I fly to the states for my two week long adventure. I will spend one week working in Berkeley and one week probably not doing much work at all in Durham for Amber's graduation from Business School. So, tonight I will be packing and working like mad to get some stuff sent off before I am off the grid flying all day tomorrow.

I did quickly want to mention that last night I rented Rachel Getting Married on iTunes. If you have not seen this film yet, check it out. I really think it is probably my favorite of last year. True, I have not seen the Wrestler and do have a thing for Anne Hathaway, which helps. Although, this one definitely stands on its own. It is dark yet sentimental, over the top yet totally realistic, painful but beautiful. I just hope my visit home is a bit less dramatic.

On a side note, I am about half way through Herzog by Saul Bellow these days. My slow pace should not say anything negative about the quality of the work, but is more in fact a glowing recommendation. This book speaks to me in ways that are a bit too intense at times, hence I am not always willing to pick it up at the end of a long day. Work has been pretty intense lately as well, which does not help. My hope is that all the time on a plane will help me push through and finish it up soon, as I am definitely looking forward to doing.

Home Is Where You Hang Your Head.

So, the subject of this post is a Groucho Marx quote, which first of all is rather apt and second of all is one of the funniest quotes I have learned from a Professor/Mentor/Friend at OU who shall affectionately be known as Doc.

The bottom line is that as I am shortly to embark on a fairly long two week journey back to the states, I have been thinking a lot about home recently. Technically, I feel pretty at home here in Germany. My routine is set, my apartment is as comfortable as any other place I have slept the last couple years, I get around alright with the language for what I need and my work situation is actually great. True, it is hard to say this is truly my home as I am fairly consistently reminded that I am a foreigner. On the other hand, it is a decent life I have for myself here, and I know eventually it could be a place to which I felt I belonged whether or not all Germans agreed with me.

The truth of the matter however is that I also feel like moving back to New York City will be a welcome homecoming. That city brutalized me in ways, but I survived it on my own, made some great friends, learned a lot about myself, did some interesting work and ate some amazing food. There were corners of that city I truly felt were mine, and I miss my little nooks and crannies hidden amongst all that chaos. Being there made me appreciate that I belonged to something much bigger than myself, something overwhelming, totally out of my control and completely alive in every possible way.

Meanwhile, my wife and all of the things I have come to truly define as home are in an apartment in Durham, North Carolina. The creature comforts, including in fact a creature whose excitement always makes coming home delightful, I have come to cherish and in which I find solace are all there. The possessions alone ... my shelves of read books, my grandfather's desk where I wrote my thesis, all the dishes on which I first learned to cook, the pictures from my past, the bed I collapsed into after many of the best and worst days of my life, the couch on which I experienced so many simple moments of comfort and the chair I would work in during the long evenings of graduate school. Many significant moments of my life occurred in and around these things, hence they became a part of my life.

Soon, I will also be back in the Bay Area, the first place I felt like I had built my own home. Though I have not been back since I left nearly two years ago, I feel like I am just returning from a long vacation. I have a hard time convincing myself anything will have changed significantly. In my mind, I know the people and places I love will have experienced changes and that my perception of them will be different now as well. However, a big part of me never left them or that place, so I will cherish the chance to finally embrace my friends and family, breathe in the moist air, taste the food and wine, and walk through the same streets that have marked me so deeply.

Of course, Oklahoma will always beckon me home as my birthplace and the location of most of my family. Not to mention, it is the place I started to believe in myself, learned I had something to give and first found friends who understood me. There, I know I will always have the smell of dinner and anticipation of hours of conversation in my Nana's living room, the feeling of grease and dirt on my hands from working with my father, the memories of stories, beers and meals shared with my oldest friends, or the instant relaxation that comes over me when drifting on a lake. Whether it be during the cold, dry winter nights or the hot, dripping wet summer days, there is something that enriches the soul when you feel the things you felt as a child. The sights, sounds and smells of the houses, people and meals I grew up with will always give me peace.

Southern California also provides a sense of the familiar. It is the kind of place where I never quite feel at ease because it reminds me of something deeply buried within myself. The time I spent there was somehow difficult for me, and though I did not like who I was then, experiencing those old feelings once in a while is a good thing in order to keep track of every part of my life. Even those parts of my life when I experienced pain or felt weak.

I have even felt quite at home drinking coffee in the mountains of Crete with a new found friend, sharing a Christmas with old friends in Sicily, strolling alone along a river in Spain, surrounded by distant family members speaking in a language I do not know, and in a few books that truly pulled me inside them for a brief period. The long story short is that I feel lucky to have so many places to call home. Each one represents a different part of myself. So, it will be extremely nice to actually experience several of them in the next couple weeks.