Tag Archives: Germany

Alemania Mania

Well, it’s over.

Both the US and Argentina are out of the World Cup, and I must retire my Lionel Messi jersey (and my World Cup dreams) for another four years. Argentina had a disappointing — and dare I say embarrassing? — finish, and their 4-0 loss to Germany did not do me much good when I found myself sitting in a plaza in Ecuador, surrounded by a healthy mix of Argentine and German fans, with the losing team’s jersey on my back.

I watched the game in disblelief. I knew there was a very good chance that Argentina could lose, but I really didn’t think it would happen. Not like it did. As each goal seemed to putter past the Argentine goalie (who I still think looks like a My Little Pony), I couldn’t do anything. It was like watching a dorky kid get kicked by a big bully over and over again, and watching him just take it; I sat there wondering what they were thinking, what they were doing, why Argentina was playing such a bad game when I was certain they could do better? Why throw it all away? Why cower to the German giants, who robbed them of advancing to the semi-finals the exact same way four years ago? Ah, but it’s Argentina. We’re used to this sort of thing.

The fact is, the Germans played better. They were stronger, faster, surer of themselves, and more confident. They won because they outplayed Argentina, and there isn’t much more to say about it.

When the game ended, the concentration of people with Argentine jerseys began to dissolve. Germans started to pour out from different watering holes and cafes, with that mean looking flag of theirs flying around at every turn. Suddenly, there was singing, chanting, screaming in German. You would have thought they won the World Cup final by the way they were celebrating. Cars started honking, they would jump on the back of pick-up trucks that drove by, cheering and swigging their beers. I was told there were a lot of Germans in this town; now I believed it.

Germans celebrating their victory in Plaza Foch. Photo by Desiree A.

I went from feeling like a confident half-Argentine to feeling like a lamb ready for the slaughter. As I watched the players hearts break on the tv, I knew it was a matter of time before I had to get up and walk-of-shame through the rest of the day. Luckily, I had a complete Viva Guides posse with me.

I decided I needed a sad photograph with the Germans celebrating behind me, so my friend Desiree and I decided to brave the enemy celebration for the sake of one photo. I walked cautiously to the center of Plaza, where the Germans were getting rowdy. My blue and white striped Messi jersey stuck to me like I was wearing a Jewish star during the H0locaust (sorry, couldn’t help the reference!). I expected to get made fun of, to be taunted, laughed at… But I knew I had to brave the situation for the sake of a funny photo.

Sad Tavel, Happy German. Photo by Desiree A.

Just when I got close enough to the celebrating Germans, I did my sad pout and Desiree got her cell phone camera ready. Then, much to my surprise, a large German guy who had been dancing around just a second ago saw my sulking face and gave me a big hug. Without speaking, he just put his arms around me and patted me with pity on the head, beer in hand. I made it out alive, and I realized that maybe these Germans weren’t going to be so mean afterall.

A couple hours later, after killing some time before the next game, my Viva posse and I decided to get some food. We found a nondescript burger place that was mostly empty, and took over two large tables where we thought we could eat in peace.

Sure enough, a few minutes after ordering, I heard the familiar chanting of happy Germans. And, just my luck, in walked a crowd of about 10 smashed Germans, screaming and singing with facepaint nearly dripping down their strong cheekbones. The women were double or triple my size, and looked like they could eat me for lunch after throwing me around like a rag doll.

Of course, there I was, still in my Argentine jersey, deflated from the game and looking all pathetic against their black, red and orange stripes (thanks Maradona, THANKS). It didn’t take long for them to notice me. Immediately after walking in and seeing my Messi jersey, the heckling began… “MESSI! MESSI! WHO THE FUCK IS MESSI!?!” They surrounded me, screamed at me, chanted in my ears, danced around me… My poor coworkers just looked at me, embarrassed, wondering why the hell I didn’t bring a change of shirt. I knew they had my back, but sitting on a little bench with 10 enormous, drunk, Germans screaming and singing and cackling behind me was a little scary… Not gonna lie!

Me getting heckled by Germans, post-match. Photo by Desiree A.

Luckily, I made it out alive. You win some, you lose some, and sometimes all you can do is accept your defeat, take a photo and write a blog about it. My Argentina jersey has officially been put away this World Cup, but the real fun begins now. As we approach the semi-finals and eventually the  much-anticipated final, we’ll see who is celebrating in the end. No matter who wins, I have a feeling it will probably be me.

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Berlin Art

Great guesses, people! I loved these responses: “That’s what it looks like behind my fridge…Has to be CA” (Ursula), “…looking through floor grates at a woman practicing flamenco” (Missy), “My guess is Europe otherwise I’m stymied”(Geordie), “The Red Light District in Amsterdam” (Susana), and “It looks like a woman being swallowed up or crushed by chords…Yet she’s smiling” (Jessi). Sometimes it’s interesting to just throw a very abstract image out there and leave it up to the viewer to make something out of it (or not). You all saw a different story. Isn’t that what art is all about? Well, that’s a whole other discussion entirely…

I’m not going to congratulate specific people but rather thank all of you who took a stab at this one. Here is Marie’s explanation of the photograph:

“This is a photo taken in Berlin this past May. It was at a guerilla art event in an abandoned bathhouse’s basement. There were galleries and exhibits all through this vast cavernous space. In one alcove was a grated floor. Below was this woman dressed up as part of the pipes. She was writhing on the floor while people standing on the grate looked down and watched her performance. She actually has gallery representation (although nothing tangible to sell). No one will ever guess. You had to be there.”

Thank you to Marie for sharing this unique shot and contributing to Travels with Tavel! I’m looking for more mystery snapshot contributors so pass yours along!

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Up For Interpretation

This week’s photo comes to us from the wonderful Marie Greener.

Rather than trying to guess the exact location of this photograph, perhaps you can try to interpret it

What is going on here? What do you see? Feel free to guess the country, too. And IT’S OK TO BE WRONG! Guess away…

Marie Mystery Snap

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