deutschland with drew

alumnus drew lafiandra misses hamilton. badly. from a bar in the land of beer and leather, he penned this love note to the student body.

My dear Jamiltonians and Hamiltoes. You probably don’t notice it on your walk down Martin’s Way, or while you shotgun UCs in your South quad (Oh? You live in South? That’s so cool!). But this guy here—he kind of misses you.

Last year I left our sacred plains of Academia and came to the Fatherland a.k.a. Germany; Deutschland; Dutchington; the Land of Beer and Leather—whatever jiggles your pudding. I received a Fulbright grant to teach English in German high schools, improve my own language skills, and, unbeknownst to my students, frolic around Bavaria in leather duds tasting local brews from modest, liter-sized sample glasses.

Just like on the Hill, you fall into a schedule and I’ll be jiggered if I can fall out of it. I wake up earlier than a milkman (that’s right, a milkman) and I actually have to get ready in the morning. I actually shower, groom, eat breakfast, pack my briefcase (thank you Salvo) and leave the apartment when it is still dark out. At what point did the era of Bacchalian Tuesdays abandon this poor twenty-four-year-old German major?

I know, I know. You’re saying, oh bananas! That’s how it is outside of this resort on the Hill? Well, yes and no. Though your post-college experience may differ from mine, I work four days a week with Fridays off and have a grueling three-hour work day. On long weekends, I travel as far as my paychecks take me, which is usually to the Turkish single’s night on the first floor of my apartment building. But sometimes, I take the hour-long train ride to visit classmate Andy Mention ’07 in Munich. There is this great deal in Germany: when traveling in only one Bundesland (e.g. Bavaria, a state), you can buy a pass for only €27 (approx. $4582 American), and up to five people can travel with it for the whole day. The catch, of course, is finding four Germans to split the ticket. Those of you who have spent any time in this wonderful country will note that the natives are great people. They lead the modern world not only in low greenhouse emissions, but also in being some of the weirdest, most awkward people to walk the earth. The fact that the German language has no word for ‘awkward’ alone makes conversing a relatively hilarious endeavor. Anyhoo, my best experience whilst “training” around was splitting the ticket with four blond fillies that were studying—you guessed it, English. I was like, holler?

So after all of this, it doesn’t sound like I miss you all that much. Well, there my dear friends, you are wrong. Being able to find some broham at four o’clock Monday morning and drinking a celebratory I-just-finished-my-Anthro-final bottle of whiskey will never be matched here. Dressing up as Severus Snape to frighten little children and adults just isn’t appreciated here. Grinding with biddies at the ELS Rocky Horror party won’t happen anyplace other than Hamilton—trust me on that one. Hamilton holds a painfully permanent place in my heart. I sometimes wake up in the middle of the night thinking that I have once again crashed on the sofa in the Fireplace Lounge, but wake up to realize that I am actually wearing clothes, negating the possibility of the former scenario. I then go to the Hamilton website and I see what y’alls are up to. Shout outs to Greg and Magda: Watson fellows I presume? Also, to the Curling team: Respect.

So the next time you whip out your key to shotgun some brewdogs or beerhammers or whatever the devil you kids call them nowadays, remember that somewhere in Germany there is a kid who is missing the hell out of it. In the meantime, there are four blond German women trying to get into my apartment. Toodles.