Angelika Hello, my dears! As the year 1997 comes to an end, and Christmas is just around the corner, I want to delight you once again with a newsletter. Around this time last year, I started my first newsletter while sitting on moving boxes, and since then, I've been diligently reporting on our experiences here. Yes, it's hard to believe, but true, Michael has been here for over a year now, and I will celebrate my anniversary on December 30th. During this time, we've experienced quite a lot, gained new insights, learned a lot, and have become quite familiar with the country and its people. Hopefully, you're not horrified at the thought that we've turned into real Americans, whatever that means. No, don't worry, I don't walk around with red-painted fingernails, and Michael doesn't own a cowboy hat, just outrageously expensive sneakers that he loves to wear day and night (so, truly American). In general, if you live in California, you're not an American, but a Californian. Speaking of California, Thomas Gottschalk (yes, you read that right), who is known to live in Malibu, wrote a pretty funny article on this topic in Spiegel Spezial "California," from which I'll quickly quote a few lines:

"My mother occasionally grumbles, 'You and your California,' and reproachfully adds that someone like me, who has neither wandered through Rügen nor the Masurian avenues, doesn't know what scenic beauty is anyway. She also dismisses my repeated point that you can buy groceries around the clock in Malibu: Anyone who has their thoughts together during the day doesn't need to buy mustard at two in the morning... So why? What is the point of Californian existence? Probably in the nonsense! If the Romans are crazy, this is a madhouse. Almost nothing makes sense, not the weather, not the people, not the cars ..."

By the way, this Spiegel magazine issue is worth reading. It includes very good reports about life in California, a good mix of humorous, socially critical, and unusual content. So, anyone planning a trip to visit us should get a copy.

To return once more to the topic of America versus California versus San Francisco: When you have settled in San Francisco, you become a very special kind of species. No matter who we talk to, whether it's the hairdresser, the cashier at the supermarket, the magazine vendor, or one of our neighbors, everyone loves their San Francisco and insists that it is the most beautiful city in the world and that anyone who lives elsewhere must be crazy. Despite this perhaps somewhat exaggerated local patriotism, people remain very critical, and that's what Michael and I like so much. In our opinion, San Francisco is one of the most liberal places in the USA. Here, you can really openly discuss the social issues of the USA with almost anyone. Besides this liberalism, the city also has several other advantages, such as fantastic views, with the view from our apartment topping the Top 10 list (those who visited us this year know what I mean), great restaurants, good weather, people of all skin colors and cultures, the Golden Gate Bridge, the ocean, funny colorful houses, crazy shops ... you see, it's quite easy to enjoy life here.

Many people have been asking us lately when we will be returning to Germany. First of all, we still have every intention of doing so. Our new AOL visa officially lasts until the year 2000, but we are not planning that far ahead at the moment because the Black Sun situation has shown us that you never really know what will happen. If everything continues to go well at AOL, we will definitely be causing a stir in San Francisco until 1998, and then, as Michael likes to say, "we'll see." A lot also depends on my situation. At the moment, I am very satisfied with how I spend my days (courses, working in the Tenderloin), but at some point, I would like to work properly again, which means for money.

Many of you have also asked when we will be visiting Germany again. That is still uncertain. It mainly depends on whether Michael will come along, which is rather unlikely at the moment, as 10 days of vacation a year do not allow for big trips to Germany. We will definitely spend Christmas and New Year's Eve in San Francisco this year. We will also have our first Christmas tree together. Michael did roll his eyes a bit when I suggested this to him and made even more faces when I revealed that I plan to decorate the Christmas tree in red, blue, and white (colors of the American flag), but it is a done deal; we will buy our Christmas tree next weekend. It should be mentioned in passing that I would, of course, consider anyone who decorates their Christmas tree in Bavarian colors to be crazy. Our tree will naturally also have real candles and not an electric string of lights as is customary here. For this, I had to import German candle holders, as Americans find candles on the Christmas tree so suspicious that they refuse to sell these candle holders. I mentioned my plans with the real candles at a party when Americans asked me how we celebrate Christmas in Germany, which earned me pitying looks. I think everyone is firmly expecting that our apartment will burn down. It is truly astonishing that we are not immediately sued for gross negligence.

Angelika It is both amusing and strange that most Americans set up their Christmas tree long before Christmas, many for example on the first Sunday of Advent. The tree is then decorated in all its glory. One could, of course, acknowledge without envy that setting up the tree early is quite practical, as you get to enjoy it for longer. However, we will still decorate our tree on December 24th. We will also celebrate on the 24th; here, Christmas is celebrated on the morning of the 25th. But we will adopt one American custom: here, people hang up a so-called stocking (imagine it as a large fabric boot), which is then filled with small gifts. The stocking is usually hung by the fireplace. If you don't have a fireplace, like us, another spot will do just fine.

Angelika My courses (photography course, course on African American families) were a complete success and enriched me greatly, bringing me a lot of joy. Both courses were at a high level and attended by very interesting people. I also had to work hard for the courses (literature study, final photography project, thesis on working with African American families), which earned me the title of "overachiever" from Michael. The photography course was structured in such a way that we had to tackle a different task each session, which was discussed in class beforehand (e.g., portrait photography, night photography). The following week, we would look at and discuss the photos together. So, I spent a lot of time with my camera in San Francisco. Michael often had to accompany me, which he did without much grumbling. It was only when he was supposed to be my subject for the portrait photos that he protested. I then photographed the children from my facility. To do justice to the photography course, we, of course, took the photo for our Christmas card ourselves.

The course on African American families dealt with the topic of racism in America and the living conditions of black families. What I really liked was the practical approach, for example, what I, as a white teacher, should consider when working with black families, how I can reduce distrust, how to deal with my own prejudices, etc. It must be kept in mind that the topic of black versus white is very emotionally charged in the USA and that racism is deeply rooted in American society (as in other countries as well). In my thesis, I then focused on what should be considered when working with African American children in a preschool setting. Initially, I was quite nervous because I had to write the paper in English. Thank God Sylvia corrected it. And the effort paid off, as I received an A (which corresponds to a German grade of 1) and I must say that I am very proud of it. In January, the new classes will start. I plan to take three (one on child development; one on so-called patchwork families, meaning families where children from different marriages or relationships live together; and one on multicultural families).

Angelika At my classes, I met an American therapist who, in turn, knew a school principal in Oakland (a city on the other side of the Bay) and wanted to connect me as a volunteer. So, I had the opportunity to visit a middle school. Middle school corresponds to grades 6 through 9. The school was again in a rather run-down and poor area. I observed in a class with students aged 10 to 12 years. More than half of the students did not speak English as their first language, and a third had additional learning difficulties. Most of the students were black or immigrants from South America. By the way, this is a very realistic picture of a public school in a poor neighborhood. Since these schools usually do not have the best reputation, more affluent American parents (mostly white) send their children to private schools. This creates a real vicious cycle: if you are poor, you can only afford a public school, and if you live in a bad area, the school is usually correspondingly bad because the necessary resources are lacking. Critical voices claim that some schools in the USA are subject to segregation similar to what was once found in South Africa.

But now back to the school I attended. The class I was in was taught in a makeshift container due to a lack of space. Externally and in terms of the building, the school made a pretty good impression (except for the containers). The principal told me that these children actually needed a special education teacher and additionally someone who speaks fluent Spanish for the South American students. However, neither was available. In the USA, students with learning disabilities are usually integrated into regular schools, but this is a pseudo-integration, as students with difficulties are often placed in one class. Depending on the state and funding, these students then receive special support.

However, reality often looks like what I described above. When I observed the class, the children were practicing reading, and it was really shocking how much difficulty everyone had. None of them, although they were between 10 and 12 years old, could read fluently. Many were completely disinterested and, for example, had pulled their hoods deep into their faces so that you couldn't see their faces. About five boys sat there the whole time with a glove on one hand, even though it was quite warm. However, I didn't find out if the glove signified gang affiliation, which is quite possible. Anyone who has seen the movie "Dangerous Minds" with Michelle Pfeiffer knows roughly what I'm talking about, although the discipline was surprisingly good, meaning it wasn't total chaos. Well, in any case, I decided against helping out there because I find it irresponsible for someone like me, who doesn't speak English as a native language, to support English lessons (which would have been my task), even though I was, of course, very tempted.

Angelika And now I would like to provide you with some local information:

First of all, Sylvia and Richard have had an adorable son named Nicholas Andrew since October 9th. Michael and I visited all three of them in Portland on Thanksgiving (a major American holiday).

Angelika And the best joke at the end: I still haven't received my American driver's license. I've been waiting for almost a year now. After having to go to the DMV in San Francisco two more times to show my papers and finally having it clear that everything is in perfect order, meaning that I am completely legal in the country, I received another letter from Sacramento, this time stating that my photo could not be found. So, I trotted to the DMV for the third time, had the photo taken, and am patiently waiting again. However, I am now sure that I won't have to take the driving test again because it's not my fault for the mess. By the way, the manager of the DMV, with whom I eventually spoke, revealed to me that he has a case where the person has been waiting for their driver's license since 1995. I'll probably receive it just before our move to Germany. So be it.

So, dear ones, we wish you all a Merry Christmas. Think of us!

Michael Christmas tree, Christmas tree, Christmas tree. I can't stand hearing it anymore! First, you drag a green monster into the house, and just touching the prickly trunk feels disgusting! And after a week, when all the magic is over, you throw it out. Crunch, crunch, crunch, go the needles in the vacuum cleaner. It's quite an ordeal.

Yes, my dear friends, it's me! My dear Neanderthals, for this letter to reach you before Christmas, the galley slaves have to row like crazy, the brutal stagecoach driver whips the emaciated horses, and the mail carrier's tongue is already hanging out! Well, well, folks, you need an email. Preferably, of course, from AOL in Americaaaa. I can't say it often enough.

The Christmas party with AOL was at "Planet Hollywood" in San Francisco. It's a $15-burger joint, similar to the Hard Rock Cafe, except instead of musician trophies, they have movie memorabilia hanging around (there's one in Munich too, I know, I know, but this letter is also for the rural population and even the North German diaspora). For the older generation, let me briefly explain that the Hard Rock Cafe is a place where the lazy youth hang out and recklessly spend their pocket money on overpriced hamburgers! And as decoration, there's stuff hanging around that famous musicians have discarded - guitars and such. Naturally, as a staunch opponent of the Hard Rock Cafe, I've never been to "Planet Hollywood" in my life, and surprisingly, right at the entrance, our beloved Arnie Schwarzenegger jumped out at me from a display case - as Terminator II! "I'm a Terminator! I was made for destruction!"

In any case, AOL had reserved a part of Planet Hollywood with its own bar and such, where you could order as much as you wanted ("Another Margarita, please!" "Agaiiinn??"). Fortunately, the subway took us home.

And I bought a new bike! A mountain bike from the brand 'GT', model 'Backwoods', an ultra-cool piece with a super lightweight aluminum frame that's about 5cm thick, with 21 gears and a snazzy click-shift system. Now Angelika and I have two bikes and can finally tackle the long-awaited Golden Gate Bridge crossing next weekend.

Michael I'm still riding my bike to work every day, and my old bike has been wheezing heavily, brrr, brrr, good old thing. The rain has stayed away so far, and "El Nino," a much-cited weather phenomenon, is turning out to be a figment of the imagination of underemployed TV weather guys.

And so every day I'm heading to the train station, down 24th Street, zoom, and whoosh! Within 500 meters, the yuppie neighborhood we live in turns into South American quarters! Mexican folk music (which, by the way, has a striking resemblance to Bavarian oom-pah-pah) is blaring from car radios, and the few cheap cafes that are already open at this time are only equipped with white plastic chairs. More people take the bus, and more homeless people hang around. There's not much attention paid to litter, with old newspapers sometimes blowing through the side streets. Now and then, you see an indigenous person in a poncho and cowboy hat casually leaning on a street corner--just like Clint Eastwood in "A Fistful of Dollars." When I then turn left onto Hampshire Street, which has a nasty pothole in the middle, I always think of the Munich bus accident--how the bus sank into the construction pit! Well, it's probably not that bad, but for the streets of San Francisco, you need thick tread tires, with all the glass shards and nails lying around!