'Tis the Season!

When I looked out my glass balcony door in the mornings this week, I've had to remind myself that it's November. Once I almost went to my language class in my light jacket instead of my winter coat. October went in like a lion and and stayed like a lion, but November has been extremely kind to me this year, perhaps as an apology for last year when it the temperature dropped below 0 celcius and never came back up. Despite the warmth though, the November sky in Magdeburg has a way of appearing as though dawn has just broken until noon and thereafter appearing as thought dusk is coming on.

The darkness doesn't bother me much at the moment though because it serves as a reminder that Christmas is near, and if Christmas is near, so is my homecoming. Christmas began creeping up just after Halloween, subtley at first, with just a few seasonal specialties in the supermarkets. Lebkuchen (German gingerbread), stollen (German fruitcake) and nuts and dried fruits of all varieties snuck in at the ends of the aisles in Kaufland, my local grocery store. Then the advent calendars, which are wildly popular, elaborate, and always hiding something delicious behind their tiny doors, arrived everywhere. We are all now eagerly awaiting the opening of Magdeburg's Christmas market next week.

My homecoming, or rather home-going, has brought some difficulties along with the anticipation. For one thing, I have to get out of my apartment, which would include removing the refrigerator, stove, bed and washing machine among everything else, except that I fortuitously found someone who wanted the apartment and furnishings. That solved, I began taking down the pictures from my walls and deciding which items would make the cut for my journey home. I don't own much to begin with, but reducing your life (for a second time) to two suitcases forces you to prioritize.

It seems that all my personal belongings sensed the competition for suitcase space and many of them became disheartened and gave up. I don't know how they knew they would be left behind, but my sneakers started rubbing my heels raw until I duct-tapped the insides. This pair of shoes is covered not only in mud from Magdeburg's numerous parks, but they also I'm sure remnants of the sand from the Majorcan shore, dust from the cobblestone streets of Prague and London, and magic earth from the Witches' Dancing Place in the Harz moutains cling to them as well. Oh, and probably elephant poop. Okay, for sure elephant poop.

As for my other belongings...I already mentioned in a blog that my webcam became strangely unreliable and only after much coaxing could I get it to answer an incoming phone call or show video of me to anyone Skyping. The left earbud on the mp3 player I listen to on my jogs quit. (The right earbud apparently didn't have anything to complain about.) My socks all have holes. When I put my hands in the pockets of my winter coat, my fists go all the way through the lining. I shoddily sewed two spots on my favorite jeans where my fingers poked through from pulling the jeans up whenever they started sliding down my hips. The bulb in my standing lamp burned out with a loud pop three days ago. At 2am one night my alarm clock beeped bizarrely and urgently, a gadget's dying cry. My shower curtain fell off the bathroom walls three times in one week. I'm not sure what the rebellion is all about, but the offending items are clearly mutinying.

Meanwhile, at the kindergarten the news of my departure has hissed out like a slow leak in a balloon. Parents tell me they are so sorry to see me go, the children are somwhat confused (asking if I will come back again after Der Weihnachtsmann, aka Santa comes), and the staff keep asking if I'm excited yet. I pretend to be sadder than I am about leaving. There are things I will miss, certainly, but I won't miss them the way I've missed home, and any heart-string-tugging for Germany is overshadowed by the anticipation of being home again.