After dropping off a happy Alex at school this morning (he barely says good-bye to me any more, he's so eager to play with the other kids), I ventured over to Sherry's house and we set off on a number of official errands. I was thrilled she offered to take me around, because even though I sound like a native, I have no idea how anything works and I sometimes wonder what people think of me: Why does this 44-year old person who looks and sounds so normal not know how to properly use her bank account? Has she recently been released from a mental institution?
Anyway, Sherry graciously took the bus with me (instead of biking) into old town where the humanities part of the university is located (our apartment is in a new-ish part of campus that is dedicated almost entirely to the natural sciences, and various labs, hospitals, and research facilities, which means we see many folks walking around in white lab coats - while smoking?!). She showed me around the various humanities buildings, I got my ID card for the Mensa (which is sort of a subsidized cafeteria where I'm allowed to eat at reduced prices, because I'm a guest scholar!), and we ventured into the main branch of the library. I was in search of a library card and Sherry helped me find the registration desk. Since almost nothing here is properly labeled (including the welcome center for international scholars which I found a few days ago only because I'm fluent in German, since I had to ask 3 or 4 different people for directions!), I was glad to have her along. To get a library card, I needed not only my university ID, but also my passport, as well as my official registration with the city that shows my street address! Wow. It was a minor miracle that I had all the right paperwork with me. Sherry showed me all through the building and I feel moderately comfortable that I'll be able to find my way around when I go back by myself.
We then headed to the History Department. I wanted to say hello and also talk to the IT person from the department, so I can get an access code to the wifi system (I've been using Sherry's login this whole time - don't tell anyone!). First of all, the history department is in a beautiful old building off a cobble-stoned interior courtyard that has a medieval tower on one side. Secondly, there also are no signs anywhere. I would hate to be a first year student here. I have no idea how anyone ever finds anything. The only signage we saw at all was this one:
If you speak German it needs no further explanation. For those of you who don't. Well, it prohibits entry into the aforementioned medieval tower (Hexenturm - witches tower), because of the large amounts of dove excrement which is - according to the sign - not only aggressive (!), but also a health hazard and would be brought in to the rest of the building via the treads of one's shoes. I don't know why, but for some reason this cracked both of us up. We have no idea where or how to find any actual offices in the building, but heaven forbid we bring dove poop with us.
Well, of course, we finally found the department (up a somewhat hidden staircase behind the departmental library!) and met up with a wonderful secretary. The professors were not available! We chatted with her, found out her son went to the same preschool that Alex now joyfully attends some 20 years ago and I think I've made an ally should I ever need one. Sadly, though, the department's IT person had quit and had not been replaced, so I was advised to contact one of the advanced grad students, who is said to be good at this kind of stuff. We'll see what that yields.
Sherry then showed me various other parts of the old university (founded, by the way in 1386!) and then we had a lovely cup of coffee in the old Marstall (stables) that have been converted into a cool cafeteria. And then, on we went to have lunch at this amazing hole-in-the-wall middle eastern place where we had the following amazing falafel plate.
Ah. All is well in the world.
I do hope that most of my official errands are now finally done and I can sink my teeth into actual work.
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