Some Like it Hot

If you like 80’s music from the U.S. you will like it here in Germany. Not to say that is all they play, but a lot of the radio stations here play music form the U.S. and other english speaking countries. Oh! Not to mention they do play songs from Spain and other plarts of the European Union. It is actually hard to hear songs sometimes by German artist, now I am new here so I could be completely wrong but I haven’t found one that plays mostly German artist songs. I will hoever leave you with some of my favourite songs and artists I have come to like in Germany. Eventhough I may not quite understand everything they are saying. Let be frank here Google translator helps but it doesn’t really do an awesome job. Anyways I hope you enjoy these videos.

Please check out the artist themselves, if you really like their songs.

Xavier Naidoo Abschied Nehmen

Xavier Naidoo-I’ve Never Seen

Culcha Candela Ey DJ

Culcah Candela Hamma

Die Fantastischen Vier – Einfach sein

Die Fantastischen Vier – Vier-Millionen Legionen-Live

I thought you would share a poem that I love greatly. It was written by Myra Brooks Welch, and I am eternally grateful for this wonderful poem. The poem stirs my soul and puts a lump in my throat, and it is quite beautiful. I hope you enjoy it as much as I or more.

The Touch of the Master’s Hand
Myra Brooks Welch

‘Twas battered and scarred, and the auctioneer
Thought it scarcely worth his while
To waste much time on the old violin,
But held it up with a smile.
“What am I bidden, good folks,” he cried,
“Who’ll start the bidding for me?”
“A dollar, a dollar. Then two! Only two?
Two dollars, and who’ll make it three?”

“Three dollars, once; three dollars, twice;
Going for three…” But no,
From the room, far back, a grey-haired man
Came forward and picked up the bow;
Then wiping the dust from the old violin,
And tightening the loosened strings,
He played a melody pure and sweet,
As a caroling angel sings.

The music ceased, and the auctioneer,
With a voice that was quiet and low,
Said: “What am I bid for the old violin?”
And he held it up with the bow.
“A thousand dollars, and who’ll make it two?
Two thousand! And who’ll make it three?
Three thousand, once; three thousand, twice,
And going and gone,” said he.

The people cheered, but some of them cried,
“We do not quite understand.
What changed its worth?” Swift came the reply:
“The touch of the Master’s hand.”
And many a man with life out of tune,
And battered and scarred with sin,
Is auctioned cheap to the thoughtless crowd
Much like the old violin.

A “mess of pottage,” a glass of wine,
A game — and he travels on.
He is “going” once, and “going” twice,
He’s “going” and almost “gone.”
But the Master comes, and the foolish crowd
Never can quite understand
The worth of a soul and the change that is wrought
By the touch of the Master’s hand.

Okay. I have been holding it off long enough, as to where I am located. But I had such awesome pictures, and my computers are not working with me.

Anyways. Where to begin?

We landed here after a very long flight. DH made it so that we could sleep on the plane and reach our destination by morning. Yeah, No sleeping for me except for the very last hour before landing, and I was feeling great! Yeah I was in a sleep deprived, home sick zombie like state by the time we landed.

Yeah, ummm. Passports. Lets just say it is better to get it very early before you leave. I got mine while I was vacationing in Michigan before my flight out to N.C.

Okay so I am at the passport control desk in my new country of temporary residence. I have a special passport for living in the country as a dependent of my husband who is working there. The Passport guy is so very jolly and talkative but very efficient. The line steadily flows and then my turn arrives.

He asks for my passport then frowns. I smile and try to look harmless as possible. He flips through it then looks at me and looks back down at my passport. Now of course I have horrible thoughts of being hauled away and interrogated.

“Why are you here?” he asks me looking up form my paperwork.
“I um came here because um my husband has to work here…”I’m kicking myself for tripping over my words, and I start to panic
He looks at me like he can see all the horrible things I have done in the past, and possibly weighs all the things I will do the future. His frown gets bigger.
“Wow I hope there is nothing wrong with my passport.” I gulp and kick myself even harder as I try to dislodge the foot in my mouth.

The passport guy frowns even more, and I can see myself in jail calling the embassy for a lawyer. I start to sweat, and really wish that I could go back home.

“How long will you be living here?” He asks slowly flipping through my paperwork.
” I will be here for three years” I barely get this out because I am in a nightmare vision of jail, and me wearing a burlap sack screaming to let me out, and that I wasn’t a terrorist.

He smiles and hands me back my passport.” I hope your stay in Germany will be wonderful!” He beams at me and waves me through the door to freedom. I nearly faint as I smile and walk with rubber legs through the door to get my baggage.

Well Germany has been quite good to us, and strange to us too, but my house is still in a half unpacked state. I have no closets, and well with no car and a transportation strike, it interesting trying to get furniture. Food has been good for the most part, and I will get to that soon hopefully.

I miss korean food so very much here! I miss samgyapsal!!!!!

Sorry I am having a big problem loading up pictures here, so sometime next week or maybe sooner I will have pics up of not I will tell you where I am. Now I have to go sulk in the corner and dream about korean BBQ.