Fleamarket

I think there are basically two types of people: those who love flea markets and those who don't - and I happen to LOVE flea markets. The best flea market ever is the annual flea market in Konstanz which happened Saturday night and Sunday. I started selling stuff there when I was still a kid, with mom and dad of course, later my sister and I sold our stuff and that of various aunts and other relatives and even later I subsidized my extravagant education with selling at this (and other) fleamarkets, mainly stuff that - I am not ashamed to admit - I collected from the trash. We used to have - several times a year - special trash pick-up days for bulky items and everything else that could not be stuffed into a normal garbage can. It was mainly trash but I found quite a few treasures among it over the years which supplemented the summer job income. Over the years the flea market has grown to one of the biggest and most well-known in southern Germany. It starts Saturday evening, continues all night and through Sunday late afternoon. It feels like a gigantic party, hundreds of people selling whatever they don't need any more on foldable tables and blankets plus a few professional antiques dealers who show up with professional looking outfits and sell old dolls, teddybears and all kind of expensive knickknacks. I like the fact that it is a real flea market, for everybody not just antiques dealers and sunglass sellers. The number of people selling new stuff, like sunglasses, T-shirts or jewelry is very limited and they are confined to a defined area the rest is for real flea market stuff. Of course there are bunches of food stands, mainly selling sausages, french fries and beer or cake and coffee, bands playing and room for the kids to sell their toys and books.
We first went Saturday night, well-equipped with headlamps and and covered maybe 1 km worth of stands, looking at this, touching that, asking for prices and negotiating. A couple of books for Max were just too appealing and cheap to pass up and so (unfortunately) the luggage got heavier yet. Antonia got a whole bunch of Barbie dolls with outfits from wedding gown to bicycle shirt and we were very careful to purchase them according to diversity considerations which was hard because the blonde ones dominated the scene by a big margin. The market was packed and sometimes it was hard to even get through and, unfortunately, all the things I really wanted to buy, like nice curtains in just the right size for Jasi's windows, or cheap golden wedding bands (yeah right) weren't available but tons and tons of other stuff. Uli gets tired really soon in such situtaions but they energize me - I could have walked around for many more hours but by 11 pm we called it quits and had a beer.
Next morning Jasi and I were at it again. After five hours and spending most our energy on not buying stuff we really wanted but shouldn't really buy (useless, too heavy, silly, ...) we finally declared victory having purchased one more barbie doll, a coat for Jasi, a few books for Max, as set of silver and gold pencils, an wooden foot of an old manequin (ok, that one is on me, I just couldn't pass it up, too many interior design options came to mind), an ashtray for Jasi's boss, socks and a nice dressy shirt for Max which he will never wear. I have to say I was extraordinarily proud of myself not to have subcumed to teddy bears, more books, knicknacks of all kinds, cheap shoes and other stuff which would have forced me to purchase yet another suitcase. My real booty were a bunch of picture, mainly of flea market still lifes and doll faces. Kind of corny but fun. After 5 hours, a grilled sausage and a "Radler" which is a mixture of beer and Seven-up (yummie, in case you wondered) not even I was ready to continue and so we called it quits. We didn't see more than half of the flea market and I am determined to come back next year at the right time for another invigorating visit of the biggest est flea market ever.
When we got home Max told us about his trip to the flea market with Papa and showed his new possessions: a plastic circular saw - very noisy - and a rosty real saw which somebody gave him and which I haven't yet had the pleasure to examine.
Monday afternoon and evening as well as this afternoon we finally painted Jasi's living room. I am getting to be quite the painter after all the painting I did at home before we left. Unfortunately, very few of my interior design ideas got accepted or even considered although I think of them as very well thought out and extremely useful - I haven't watched that many design shows for nothing. But at least a few pieces of furniture got moved around, a few tossed, although - apparently - Jasi's cat didn't appreciate our efforts one bit and spent Monday night complaining loudly about all the upheaval.
I am getting repetitive here but so does the theme: our time in Konstanz is almost over. Uli and Max will leave on Sunday and I will stay another week and sort out some paper work etc that mysteriously we didn't have time to deal with during the last four weeks (funny how that always happens) and then the last stop of our sabbatical is upon us. In some sense I am looking forward to getting back home to Sunnyvale, our own place, my big computer, the gym, the reliably sunny weather but in another I could keep going or maybe stay here for a while longer. Riding my bicycle back home today, in the light rain, in the grey light after sunset and before total darkness, racing down the few hills and paddling as hard as possible on the inclines - until the muscles burn - I felt exhilerated. Taking my bike around everywhere, all the time, rain or shine or snow is one of the defining memories of childhood and youth. This is how we got around and I had forgotten how fun it is to take your bike everywhere, not to depend on a car, and how free it makes me feel racing down a hill, bent low over the handlebars to minimize air resistance and yell something stupid. I'll miss that in Sunnyvale were bikes are not used for transportation but are precious, super-expensive racing machines only taken out on weekends, driven somewhere by car and then used for showing off and - maybe - serious exercise. Another of those expat agonies. I'll spare you the details,