Frohes Weihnachtsfest!

Christmas in Germany is pure magic.

I love so many things about it — the food, the decorations, the Christmas markets.

Even though I don't drink alcohol, I think this tradition is awesome:

Every Christmas season Jake's professor prepares a piping hot bowl of traditional German Glühwein ("glow wine") for his group of grad students and post docs and their loved ones. I don't know the recipe, but it's got something to do with wine and spices and lighting a rum-soaked cone of sugar on fire. It smells fantastic, and I'll be honest and say as a non-drinker that of all the alcoholic beverages, this one probably tempts me the most.

But there's one German Christmas tradition that I simply cannot abide. I've tried to be tolerant these last three Christmases here, but I can take it no more. So I'm just gonna say it:

Dear Germany,


You are not supposed to open your presents on the evening of Christmas Eve. This doesn't make any sense. I've thought about this a lot, and here are my arguments:



1. Christmas Eve is great for remembering the true meaning of the holiday, reading Luke 2 with the family, and watching "It's a Wonderful Life". And also for building the suspense for Christmas to a maddening crescendo. But Christmas is the big day. It's what the whole shooting match builds up to, so why burst its bubble prematurely?



2. If I were a kid and I had to wait all day long, go to church, eat dinner, blah, blah, blah, before opening my new toys from Santa (or the Christmas Man, as you so pragmatically call him), I don't think gags and straight jackets and threats of violence would be able to keep me civil all day. Also, I think giving a kid new toys and then promptly sending them to bed is just sick.



3. And let's not forget, all of Germany is in one time zone, and nearly every household is getting a knock on the door from the Christmas Man at almost the exact same time? How does that work? Clearly this has to be an overnight affair. I mean, yeah, the Christmas Man is crazy-fast and magical, but let's apply a little rational thought here.



Other than that, you guys are doing a great job.



Love,


JEM


Needless to say, for our first Christmas all on our own, we did things the American way.

Oh, the rapture.

Here's to hoping Christmas was as delightful for you and yours, with love from me and mine.

JEM

I Declare a Holiday

So, in the United States we get, what? Six legal holidays? New Year's, Memorial Day, Independence Day, Labor Day, Thanksgiving, and Christmas, right? Maybe seven, if you count Columbus Day, which isn't a legal holiday everywhere. I say this just for reference, because now I give you a list of the legal holidays we celebrate here in the state of Sachsen:

New Year's Day
Good Friday
Easter Monday
Labor Day
Ascension
Whit Monday
Day of German Unity
Reformation Day
Penance Day
Christmas
St. Stephen's Day

Unfortunately we don't live in Bavaria, which is predominantly Catholic and, as a result, gets four holidays we don't get because everybody here is Lutheran — Epiphany, Corpus Christi, Assumption Day, and All Saints Day. I mention this just because last Wednesday was Penance Day, a Protestant holiday celebrated only in Sachsen. And once again I was struck with how strange these holidays are to me. With the exception of New Year's, Christmas, and Day of German Unity, nothing really happens on these holidays. There don't seem to be any widely participated in traditions associated with them, I guess because they're mostly religious holidays in a country where people aren't particularly religious anymore. Mostly all that happens is that the city just shuts down. And I don't mean like the U.S. on Labor Day. I mean it really shuts down. Not just banks and offices and schools. Every retail establishment closes — shopping malls and grocery stores and pharmacies. As far as I've been able to tell, the only things that stay open are gas stations and some restaurants and sometimes museums. The city turns into a ghost town. Traffic vaporizes, public transit runs a skeleton operation.

Almost every one of these holidays came as a shock to me our first year here. I would walk to the grocery store for milk only to find the place dark and locked. I think once Jake actually went into work to find his lab completely abandoned. Once we got over the frustration of these sneak attack holidays, Jake and I usually found ourselves at a loss as to how to spend a free day when nothing's open. When I was teaching English I often asked my students how they spent holidays like Penance Day. "What do you do," I'd say, "when everything is shut down?" They'd shrug like the question was completely irrelevant and say things like, "sleep" or "eat" or "work in my garden".

I suppose for them passing a day in a sleeping city is no big deal, because in Germany the same thing happens every Sunday. I was surprised to come here and learn that grocery stores close on Sundays, but for me as a Mormon, it didn't change my lifestyle. In our church we are instructed to "keep the Sabbath day holy", and while there is a good deal of personal interpretation allowed for this commandment, some things are specifically discouraged, like working and shopping or conducting business. Coming here from Utah, where one could sit down in the middle of Main Street on a Sunday morning and play a game of solitaire without ever having to pick up the game to dodge a car, wasn't a huge adjustment.

But the holiday thing has been a tough one to wrap my capitalist brain around. I'm used to being able to go bowling on Thanksgiving or to the movies on Christmas. But I wasn't always just on the consumer end, either. I missed the fireworks two Independence Days in a row because I had to work making take-out pizzas for the people who were watching the fireworks. That's the give and take of capitalism, right? So every time one of these obscure holidays pops up, I find myself looking at all the darkened shops and all the strolling people with nothing to do, and I inevitably think, "Doesn't anybody here want to make money?!" And the answer I imagine the country shouting back is still annoying to me, but increasingly sensible: "Not as much as we want a day off!"

Maybe Americans could afford to sacrifice a little convenience and entertainment in order to take an occasional day and just breathe. Of course, that would mean remembering to buy ice before Thanksgiving. And the odds of that happening are pretty slim.



JEM

Jethro: Year One

I can't believe it's already been a year since Jethro was born, but at the same time I can't believe I've only known him for one year. We've become a pretty good team these last 365 days. He's shaped up to be quite the sidekick. Or am I the sidekick?

At any rate, happy birthday, little buddy! I love you. And I'm excited to see how you grow and change, but no hurry, OK? You're pretty cool just the way you are, too.



JEM

So I Married a Super-Villain

The thought has crossed my mind before that Jake has many of the traits of an international super-villain — the cold, analytical mind, the staggering intellect, the obsessive nature, the piercing eyes, and that rare combination of lone wolf instincts and leader-of-men talents. 

But never have I been more suspicious than when he told me, in all seriousness, that he'd be taking the night train to Heidelberg for a mandatory meeting of the Alliance.

 I'll be keeping my eyes open for lapel-less suits and an insatiable lust for power.



JEM

Power Play

Does anybody else think this is sort of a weird toy? I mean, what 4-year-old doesn't want to play with a smiling, John Denver-coiffed police man who is permanently handcuffed to a raging, tattooed anarchist? The more I look at it, I'm not even sure the policeman is the one in charge of the situation. I think the anarchist and his Maglite might actually be holding the policeman hostage. It could go either way. I think I might get it just to see how this thing plays out.

JEM

We Need to Talk.

American Dresdner: JEM, could I have a word with you?
Jasmine E. Michaelson: Yeah, sure.
AD: In the conference room? Alone?
JEM: We have a conference room?
AD: (closes door solemnly) JEM, I'm going to cut to the chase here. Your performance lately has been disappointing to say the least. I know you had your little vacation in the U.S. for three weeks, was it?
JEM: Yeah.
AD: Wowsers! Better not get used to that! Anyway, my point is, you've been back for over a month and posted here only once. Now, I consider myself a patient person, but when your performance reflects on me and my reputation, I have to address it. And as much as I hate to resort to threats, I'm afraid I have to tell you that if you aren't up to this anymore, I'm going to have to let you go and find someone else who is.
JEM: Wait — what?
AD: Now let's not get emotional.
JEM: Emotional? AD, are you seriously threatening to fire me?
AD: Please don't make a scene. No one's firing anyone yet.
JEM: But this is MY blog! I MADE you! You can't fire me, you little ingrate! Maybe I'll fire YOU! How about that!
AD: Clearly you're under some emotional duress.
JEM: Yeah, I'm under some emotional duress! I've been sick for a week along with Jethro and Jake, and you know what I learned? MAMA DON'T GET NO SICK DAYS! I spent three days up to my elbows in snot and spit — and only half of it was mine. And I'm just so tired. (bursts into tears) But I love them so much, AD. Jake's such a sweet husband and Jethro's such a funny, loving little guy. Look at this:

Couldn't you just DIE!? I'm a lucky woman, AD, I really am. (wipes tears) I should also mention here that I quit nursing Jethro entirely about a month and a half ago and that has triggered some hormonal changes I wasn't anticipating. (laughs hysterically)
AD: OK. No need to get into your lady issues here. Is there anything else you'd like to disclose regarding your poor work performance?
JEM: Well, I had to give a talk last week in church, and about a month before that Jake and I gave a fireside to a church group. And you have to realize that whenever I have to do things like this in German, it takes at least four times as long to prepare as it would in English, mostly working out strange vocabulary words and verb constructions I manage to avoid most of the time.
AD: OK, noted. Anything else?
JEM: Yes. I also recently lost a significant amount of sleep after watching "Let the Right One In", a Swedish vampire movie that BLEW MY MIND.



Best vampire movie ever, as far as I'm concerned. Seriously scary but also strangely sweet and innocent. Anyway, my brain wouldn't turn off for hours after I went to bed. I eventually had to hypnotize myself to go to sleep.
AD: You what?
JEM: You count backwards from 100 with the singular thought that by the time you reach 1 you will be relaxed, not afraid, confident ... whatever you need at the moment. It doesn't always work. You have to really focus. Jake read about it in a book and taught it to me. He's a lot better at it than I am. My mind wanders too much, but it does often help me go to sleep when I'm really keyed up.
AD: Fascinating. Are there any other lame excuses that you'd like to give me for being such a slacker?
JEM: No. I think that's all I've got. But I would like to share something interesting.
AD: Shoot.
JEM: You remember my crippling phobia of slugs? Well, Jake decided a couple of weeks ago that it was time to address my fear, and he gave a Family Home Evening lesson on slugs. (We usually have pretty unorthodox home evening lessons.) We learned about the anatomy and lifestyle of the slug. Did you know that the black hole on one side of the slug's mantle is a single nostril? I always thought some joker was giving them all cigarette burns on the same place.


Anyway, the most fascinating part of the lesson was this video of slugs mating. Yeah, it's gross, but it's also actually quite spectacular. I had no idea slugs were capable of such an intricate and elaborate ritual. It's kind of (and I can't believe I'm saying this) beautiful. And I have to say that it actually did give me a greater appreciation of slugs. Not that I'm planning to take one on as a pet or anything.



AD: I think I could have done without seeing that, but I'm glad it helped you. Now, as for that post on your reverse culture shock that you promised a month ago?
JEM: Yeah, I know. I'm working on it.
AD: Can we expect this sometime before CHRISTMAS?
JEM: Yes, definitely before Christmas. I can promise you that. Hey, AD?
AD: Yes?
JEM: You wouldn't really replace me, right? I mean, sure, I've had my ups and downs here, but I do OK, right? And we're old friends, you know? You wouldn't turn out a friend, right?
AD: Right ... (sweeps applicant files into a drawer while faking a sneeze)

The Homeland, Part I

Well, I was right.

After returning to the homeland, it quickly became clear that in the American West, we now qualify as obnoxious, environmentalist, bleeding-heart socialists, while in Germany, we remain the wasteful, lazy, capitalist scum we've always been. But more on that a little later. First I'd like to subject you to the obligatory post-vacation slideshow! I barricaded all the exits in advance, so you might as well sit back and enjoy.

Away we go

Train to the airport in Dresden

We flew Air India because it was the cheapest option. And I mean no disrespect to India or its inhabitants when I say that we were a little nervous about this decision. Our nervousness turned into sick resignation when we arrived at the windowless, exit-less, almost service-less gate that felt a little like a refugee camp. But to our delight, we found Air India to be a fantastic airline. The meals were awesome (lamb curry ... mmmmm), the female flight attendants wore saris and nose studs, and our fellow Indian passengers were as patient as saints with Jethro's occasional meltdowns. Also, it turns out that while traveling with a baby may be stressful (changing diapers in those little bathrooms should be an Olympic event), people take really good care of you. On the way there, we actually got upgraded to business class, which was quite glorious.

Jethro enjoys a scene from the lighthearted musical romp "Mama Mia".

How my suitcase arrived. This was no fault of any airline, but rather our own fault for using a 20-year-old suitcase with a faulty zipper.

Idaho
We hit up my family first so that we could see this young man return from his 2-year LDS mission to Denmark.


That's my 21-year-old youngest brother Spencer. He's artistic, musical, fashionable, funny, and devilishly handsome.

He's also a fantastic speaker, which I never realized until I heard him report his mission at church. I was a very proud big sister.

And he's available! Also available is my other, 24-year-old brother Ford.

He's a flattop-rocking genius musician, master chalupa maker, large scale prank coordinator, and Mormon doctrine scholar.


He's also the proud father of a rescued Furby.




(That's the video I'm sending with his application to become the next "Bachelor".)

In addition to his uncles, Jethro met his Grandpa Erickson for the first time ...

???

and got reacquainted with Grandma Erickson.

Being back in Idaho was good for me. Germany's wet, foresty climate is beautiful, but I often miss the big wide-openness of my birthplace.


As well as the regularity with which one finds animal appendages just lying around. We also took Jethro to the site where Jake and I were married in 2002, the Idaho Falls LDS Temple.

Jake works with my cousin Zach and uncles Skinny and Dyle on the waffle line at Spence's brunch-themed welcome home party.

Jake, Spencer, and I were joyfully reunited with gallon-sized milk jugs.

We had a lovely time getting sick on pizza and burgers and fries and milkshakes and my dad's famous waffles, but before we knew it we were winging it to ...

Las Vegas

For my 26th birthday, Jake showed me a fine night out on the fabulous Las Vegas Strip.

Almost as soon as we were reintroduced to the rocket-going-off-in-your-face heat of Las Vegas, we hurled ourselves into Jake's parents' backyard pool, where we more or less stayed for about a week.


We emerged occasionally to eat, shop, watch the BBC miniseries "Little Dorrit", eat, sleep, and play with the family members in the Las Vegas area.

At Jake's sister Amy's place.

In the millisecond following the taking of this picture, Bradley (right) landed on the foot of Audrey (left) resulting weeping, wailing, and an X-ray. But I think Audrey will now agree that it was totally worth it.

Me pretending to kayak on Lake Mead.

Jake's brother John (left) threw us a joint birthday party that rocked.

Jethro experiments with solid food.

Jake hooked up with some old high school pals at Metro Pizza.

And then we were off to the Michaelson family reunion at ...

Bear Lake

The women-folk bask.

For the uninitiated, Bear Lake is a beautiful, pristine lake that straddles the Idaho and Utah border within spitting distance of Wyoming. Interesting fact: It was settled, in part, by Jake's great-great-grandfather and namesake Jacob Michaelson, a Danish immigrant and Mormon polygamist.

The Michaelson clan with what remains of great-grandpa Thomas Michaelson's cabin. (Not pictured: Mom Michaelson, who I think was sneakily avoiding cameras in the car, and Adam, Jake's older brother, whose wife, Summer, had just had a baby just a couple of days prior — IN HER LIVING ROOM!!! We were able to stop by their house on our way to Bear Lake, only an hour after the baby had been delivered. Both baby girl and mother were beautiful. Summer is Wonderwoman.)

Near Bear Lake, up a pretty precarious dirt road, is a beautiful forest and meadow where Jake's dad lived in a tiny cabin as a little boy with his older brother and parents. His dad operated a sawmill there, and his mother cooked all the meals for the logging crew. There's nothing left now, but Jake's Dad remembers it all in vivid detail.

Jake and kid sister Missy leap across a raging river.

Mom Michaelson defaces a tree at the sawmill site with her initials.

Then we headed back to Las Vegas.

Missy was kind enough to drive our messy, sick, and sometimes screaming selves.

We had to make a couple of stops along the way. First, we made a little stop in Logan, Utah, Jake's and my pre-Dresden home. It's also where we met and fell in love. We have a lot of good memories there. (Thanks to my aunt Jenae and uncle Scott for putting us up for a night there!)

Jethro at the exact site of his parents' first kiss on the Utah State University campus.

Then we had to stop in Provo, Utah, so Jake's grandma could give Jethro her stamp of approval. (He passed by the skin of his tiny little teeth.)

And then we were on the open road passing through some of the most beautiful country I know of.

Back home
And after a couple of days we were back on Air India.

I was sad to leave our families behind again, but was amazed at the giddiness I felt when we landed in Frankfurt and were once again in the Vaterland.

OK, I'm removing the barricades now. But don't wander too far! COMING SOON ... "The Homeland, Part II": My thoughts on reverse culture shock after returning to America after 2 years! Guaranteed to be even more boring than "Part I"!!! DON'T MISS IT!!!



JEM