A Week in Munchen
I’ve decided that this week I would keep a daily journal of my experiences. I’m doing an internship with Lenny at a Baker in downtown Munchen.
7/19/10, first day of internship with baker
I awoke at 4:30, got dressed in old jeans and a white tee. I downed a quick breakfast which I washed down with a large cup of coffee. Then Lenny and I headed off for the S Bahn. IT was chilly as we rode our bikes through the empty streets, but I was happy, for this promised fair weather once the afternoon rolled in. I slept on the S Bahn, and woke abruptly as we pulled into Rosenheimer Platz and it was time to get off. We walked a ways through the slowly awaking city. But while the city was just waking up, the bakery had already been in locomotion since the middle of the night. Such is the life of a baker: to tirelessly supply humanity with warm roles for its breakfast promptly at six o clock when such things are needed. We entered a courtyard that opened off of a main street. We were surrounded by a small canyon of charming old apartment mansions one of which housed the bustling Schmidt Brotmanufactur. And yes, the place does smell of flour, however, further nasal exploration reveals the faint sent of sesame and sun flower seeds, with a hint of butter. It is always stiflingly hot inside the building, my happiness at the prospect of cooler weather faded.
We started the day with a lesson on how to operate the lift, and then moved from there to pretzel making, which as I found out is not as fun as it is made out to be. There’s no slow and deliberate folding of the warm dough, like one experiences in a *** kindergarten; no, one must do ones best to lift the already formed pretzels of a quickly moving conveyer belt. If the machine has malfunctioned and spit out a strand of unformed dough, then one must apply the special pretzel making technique, prescribed by the rather intense but very kind baker to my left, he had mastered this technique long ago. It involves a twisting motion of the dough, so as to form a loop with the characteristic twisted piece sign shape; let me tell you it’s not that easy. When done correctly it takes only a few seconds but I was taking a little longer than that be the time we were finally done with that mornings pretzel batch. After this warm up exercise, the day unfolded quickly, the bakers were all quite friendly, and very willing to help out a stupid American. I had a little trouble with the complex commands they would give me, but on the whole my German actually served me well. After eight hours of baking and a strenuous task involving an immense pile of pans and a strange whirring cleaning machine (I will not elaborate), it was finally time to sweep up.
At the end of the day I was covered from head to toe in a grease and flour, but I also wore a smile, and that’s what was important. A very tired Lenny and I took the S Bahn back to the house, where, shortly upon arrival, I took a short nap. I awoke to the voice of Lenny and his girlfriend laughing over something downstairs. I arose and went to join them in the living room accompanied by Jonathan Strange, which I read for about two hours before dinner. The whole family plus Rachel, Lenny’s girlfriend, sat down to a barbeque dinner taken outside on the patio. After dinner, I retired to write up my day, and so I come to the present moment.
7/20/10, day two
I woke a bit later this morning at ten till five. The same routine as yesterday was repeated, except that this time I remembered my camera. As we made our way to Englaschalking station a shot some pictures of a none too amused Lenny. I kept shooting as we exited the train and made our way through the early light to the bakery. It promised to be another beautiful day, in the low seventies with wind. When we reached the bakery I had stopped taking pictures. The few people that were up at that hour had been casting funny looks at the boy gleefully snapping photo’s at five thirty in the morning on his way to work. The day unfolded similarly as the previous, except that today at about 9:30 I was transferred out of the bread department and over to the pastry room. I’m not sure if this is because either they don’t like me in bread, or they deem me now ready to perform the complicated task of puff pastry making. They probably don’t have in reason whatsoever, but I do like to speculate.
rosenheimer Platz Station
train leaving Rosenheimer
When I arrived in Pastries, I met the Jovial, and round pastry chef. Suffice to say that he fulfilled quite a few of the stereo typical traits one expects from bakers and also plenty of other one would not expect. To my chagrin but also reluctant happiness he spoke very good English, (everyone here speaks English here, and one cannot escape it).
I passed the rest of the day with him and his assistant. We spoke of many things, not the least of which was the state of German and American radio, and his wish to go to Burning Man.
Munchen at 5:30
At the end of the day I had managed not to get quite as dirty, although I still may have spoilt my shirt. Once back at the house and after a large lunch I took slightly ill to my stomach. I don’t know where this came from but it has passed on by the time I am writing this. It did, however sap my will to do anything for the rest of the afternoon. Luckily, tomorrow Lenny and I will be able to get another hour of sleep, as we are not summoned to the Bakery till seven O’clock. Thank the Lord!
the entrance to Schmidt Brotmanufaktur
7/21/10
Today I woke up at 5:30 and work started at seven. I was in the pastry kitchen once again, but today was to prove not nearly as pleasant. I was put under the control of a veritable tyrant of the kitchen. From the very start he was annoyed with me because I didn’t speak good enough deutsch. It took me a little while to process his commands and during the slight delay he would explode and yell at me to use my brain or my eyes, or something to that effect. Now I have been expecting something like this to happen for a long while now, so it wasn’t as bad an experience as I thought it would be. The only thing that really bothered me was when he told me to stop crossing my arms. I soon remedied my problem by taking on long tasks which meant I didn’t have to talk to him much, and eventually I was transferred back to the nice pastry chef. We took the S Bahn back home after staying a little later, past two, and I took a short nap and read for a while.
Lenny plans to meet some friends on the Isar River and although I really wanted to come I also had pre-made plans for the evening. I took the S bahn back past Rosenheimer Platz to the Merienplatz where I exited. I was going to meet up with Allason, a graduate from SF Waldorf. She had just got off work and was heading down to the Rathaus to meet me. Before she arrived I walked around the downtown, breathed in the sultry air and sights and smells. It was a very pleasant evening the temperature right around 70 degrees, the warm light glancing of the old baroque building with an orange pink glow.
Spire of Alter Peter Cathedral
some church
entrance to Merienplatz
Alter Peter sanctuary
entrance to the Rathaus
Rathaus
After a while I met up with Allason and we rode the elevator high above Marienplatz to Café Glockenspiel. We sat outside until a brief evening thunderstorm blew us back indoors. I ordered an excellent risotto and she an Apfel strudel. Over dinner she explained that she was working as a Nanny for a family from the Bay Area, that was here in Germany on business. After dinner we took a walk through the downtown. On the way we stopped to listen to an especially cheerful string trio with accompaniment (there were many of these small bands spread out through the downtown). I took some pictures.
String Trio with flute and piano
After the next piece the flute player informed the crowd that “No photos only pictures.”
I think I will use this statement to end all my arguments, sort of like Ray William Johnson’s “Two camels and a tiny car.” Later we happened on the red carpet for the german premier of the Cameroon Diaz Tom Cruise film, Knight and Day. Unfortunately we had missed the event and they were already cleaning up. From there we stopped buy the ice cream stand and got some ice, and dropped into a beer Garten for a small drink and some apfel schorle. It was a lot of fun, and the only drawback was that I didn’t get back to the house until late, all the time knowing I would pay for it in the morning. But hey, it was a great to meet up with someone from SF and the night was very enjoyable.
- 22/7/10 day four and the following Friday.
I Woke very fatigued from my slight excursion the night before. It wasn’t that I drank a lot or tired myself out in some way, it was just that I went to bed too late to get up at 5:30. Throughout the work day I’m not sure how much of the break room coffee I consumed, but I’m sure it wasn’t a healthy amount. After work I was still extremely tired so I went straight to sleep upon return home. Now there was another reason I went straight to sleep: the owner of the Bakery thought it appropriate for me and Lenny to experience the nightshift on Friday. So we would be going to the bakery at one that morning.
I was awakened at eleven o’clock by a large roll of thunder. There was a major thunderstorm rolling past. The wind was whipping the marquee shade outside my room so I hauled it in but stayed outside and let the storm rain on me a little bit. The drops one my face reminded me of a storm back in Virginia, it smelled of the east coast as well. That night when I started work in the ever blisteringly hot chamber of the Bread manufactory, I wasn’t tired like I expected, I guess it’s easier to get up at one in the morning than 5. But by the end of the frenzied yet robotic rush to finish the bread in time for breakfast, I lost my strength and was barely making it by the end.
So Lenny and I limped home as the city was waking to a grey morning around us. I slept until late in the afternoon that day. I woke and a few hours later me and Lenny and a large crowd of friends headed off to a club to celebrate the advent of summer break. It was a dance club called Drei Turmen (three towers). Now I hate dancing so I was feeling a little bit worried as we reserved a place in the cushion lined exterior. But I started to drink, and after two beers I was a little bit more in the mood. Once I got into the dancing I had terrific night from there on. I did end up having a bit to drink by the end though, and I slept quite awhile the following day. But hey, this is summer break so……yeah.
3 Responses to “A Week in Munchen”
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July 22nd, 2010 at 6:29 am
this is great. love seeing the photos!
July 24th, 2010 at 8:52 am
did you say bears?
July 25th, 2010 at 3:58 am
sorry I wrote this ratherr late at night.