Welcome to my blog. I write about fitting in, sticking out, and missing the motherland as a serial foreigner.

It's not vacation until somebody has to visit the ER

Magdalena broke her arm yesterday. She was jumping on a trampoline and fell off. We spent this afternoon and evening on a lovely "tour" of the Universitätsklinikum children's ER in Leipzig. It wasn't exactly Thomaskirche, but it certainly was memorable.

Amidst all the arrangements and wrangling with our insurance company back in Sharjah, the following happened:

1. I had to dictate the address of our hotel to a non-German speaker, over a crappy phone connection. And of course it had to be something crazy like Zschochersche Straße. Of course.

2. Then, later, because the hospital wanted our bank's wiring codes so they could send our guarantee money (?) back to us (?) after the insurance comes through (?), I had to dictate a random string of numbers and letters to a German man over another crappy phone connection. Note to self: consider learning the German equivalent of the NATO phonetic alphabet (Alpha Bravo Charlie, etc.).

We are all really tired, but here is the proud owner of a cast. Good night.

August 8th, outsourced

Look into bathrooms.