1 May 2009 - Koblenz Catch-up

This is a very long-overdue catchup entry. Quite a few weeks ago, Bonnie (that gives you an idea of the timing....) and I took a daytrip to Koblenz. It was one of the trips listed in the guidebook I had, I had one of many banking holidays, and Bonnie and I were up for a small adventure.

Koblenz is only about 75 miles from Frankfurt, so not a long drive. The historic strategic importance of the city is that it is the point of confluence of the Mosel and Rhine rivers. It was established in the 9th century by the Romans as a stronghold for controlling that intersection (the corner of earth jutting out into the rivers at this point is known as the Deutsches Eck or German Corner). At some point in time, Koblenz was actually part of French, but then Germany got it back again. Like many other sizable cities, it was nearly destroyed during WWII, but has been significantly rebuilt.

I wandered around and found some interesting sights, including the fountain shown above of the mischievous schoolboy who randomly spits at passersby. Another interesting part I enjoyed was the Kaiser Wilhelm statue area that overlooks the Deutsches Ek itself. There is this gigantaur sculpture of the Kaiser on his trusty steed on a platform that is equally gigantaur. The sculpture was apparently destroyed during the war, but has somewhat recently been replicated and replaced. The whole area is still under some construction. But the platform area has engraved in its stone walls each of the Bundeslanden (states) of Germany. What I loved was that if one looks past the Hessen coat of arms (Hessen is the Bundesland in which Frankfurt is located) through an opening in the wall, you can see a US flag waving in the breeze. I am not sure of why it is there, but anytime I see those stars and stripes waving, I get all choked up. And to see it combined with my new home was particularly moving.

Less moving was the carnival that was also taking place on the shore of the Mosel River. I somehow expected carnivals here to be more upscale. Um, not so much. The carnies were still really creepy. And the Ferris Wheel was called the Liberty Wheel and had background images of the Statue of Liberty, including a replica which I swear had a "flame" burning in German colors. Most fascinating, though, is that unlike the regular carnival type of music I am used to in the U.S. (which is the stuff of which horror film soundtracks are made), carnie music in Germany is apparently really loud techno music. Yeah, like house music. Even at the kiddie rides. Bizarre. Dieter Sprockets lives on.....

22 June 2009 - Bumbling around Brussels

["Macarena." Sorry, I know that's probably now going to be stuck in your mind the rest of the day, but it will make more sense later. In the interim, I offer you Lady Gaga's "Love Game," which I cannot get out of my head dispite the ridiculously juvenile lyrics.]

I am frequently asked by friends what I have seen while I have been living in Europe. The answer is somewhat the same as I might have given while still living in the states -- I have seen a variety of dark, windowless conference rooms in various cities. Two weekends ago, we had a long holiday weekend of sorts and I decided it was time to see something that was worth writing home about (or blogging, as the case may be).

I figured that since it was a long weekend, a lot of Germans would be out driving and there might be traffic, so it would be better to take the train someplace. But I didn't want to spend a long time on the train.... So I decided Brussels, Belgium would be a good destination -- about a 3.5 hour non-stop ride on the ICE and with several Starwood properties from which to choose (always key). Two years ago I had been there for the same conference that sent me to Rome last month, but again didn't have time to see the city other than from a bus window while en route to dinner. Time to see the rest of the city.

I made this decision on Tuesday night and figured out how to book the ticket online and I was set. Except I didn't have a travel guide, so I purchased one on Amazon.de where they have a whole section of English language books (I suspect the site is simply a front end for amazon.uk) and generally deliver in 1-2 days. Excellent. Except that one of the intervening days between the order and when I was to leave was a holiday. On Friday afternoon, I hung out at the office until the last possible minute before I had to leave for my train, but DHL had still not delivered. Doh!

I had a few extra minutes at the Frankfurt Hauptbanhof (a very, very large train station with quite a few shops), so I ducked into a bookstore. I found a small travel guide to Brussels that was suitable for purse schlepping and which had a lot of maps, including a few walking tours. What more did I need, right? Of course, there was the minor issue that said travel guide was in German and I didn't happen to have a German-English dictionary on my person. So, picture an English-speaking American walking around a city where the languages are French and Flemish with the "assistance" of a tour guide in German. Perfect....

Actually, it worked out pretty well, generally. I followed the outlined walking tours and saw most of the sights, though the history and their significance were often lost on me. It also helped that I had taken two years of French in college (much more study than I have had in German), so I could generally read signs and menus. Problem was, when I would try to speak with people (for example, ordering a croissant at the bakery), German would come out of my mouth. No, not the French listed on the menu. Not English which they would have understood as well. But clumsy and imperfect German. Which was often as much of a surprise to me as it was to the clerks. I felt a compulsion to cover my mouth to keep the words from coming out as I was thinking, "Where did THAT come from??" Apparently my small brain is unable to handle multiple, concurrent languages.

I stayed at the Le Meridien, which was nice enough. Very old school. They were kind enough to upgrade me to a delightful corner suite, which is always nice when you actually have time to enjoy it rather than just ducking in to sleep in between, say, visits to various conference rooms! And they had a Nespresso machine in the room! Not quite as cool as my handsome machine, but still much better than regular drip coffee. One of the unusual features of the hotel was the sound in the elevators. No, not elevator music. Nature sounds. The day I arrived, it was weird bird calls. The next morning I got on along with some other Germans (I was soooo excited to hear German being spoken!) and we all commented on the water sounds. Really odd. I suppose it was supposed to soothe guests, but it just kinda freaked me out.

I didn't really have a plan for the city, but just kind of wandered around, primarily following the walking tours in the book. When the spirit moved me, I'd sit down in one of the many parks or at an outdoor cafe and whip out my Kindle for some reading and people watching (and, of course, coffee or other beverages if at an outdoor cafe). Just very relaxing.

One of the interesting things I noted, though, was one of the many outdoor chalkboard signs by a restaurant. Like most of them, it was in French and listed some very tasty sounding things. But this one caught my eye when I saw "avec Freedom Fries." Yes, served not with French fries in this French-speaking country, but the Freedom Fries of the House of Representatives Cafeteria fame. As Rachel Maddow had said just a few days before, Freedom Fries are kind of like the Macarena. You know people who did the Macarena, but of course YOU never did the Macarena. Just like no one wants to admit they had anything to do with the Freedom Fries dealio. Except, apparently, Belgians, who keep the story alive.

10 June 2009 - Banking in the Bundesland

One of the issues I deal with on at least a weekly basis is banking. It seems like a simple thing but being paid partially in US dollars and partially in Euro is a bit tricky. It is a long story (one which I can't really tell because I still don't understand it entirely) why I have compensation in two different currencies, but it is generally a good thing. For example, I have to pay my Chicago condo mortgage in dollars as well as certain insurance and investment payments. But obviously I need Euro to pay for rent, a certain A5, food, etc. over here. The tricky part is that I can't specify the precise split and I usually am in the position that I have Euro but need dollars.

I have several bank accounts in the US (rest assured, it is not because I am concerned about exceeding the FDIC insured amounts!), but I decided a few years ago to open a Citibank account as my primary account because it had ATMs in practically every country I visited, meaning fewer ATM fees and ready access to cash. It also had a reasonably good online bill payment system (though not as good as Wells Fargo), which is also important when you are never home and are averse to using checks and to having to pay postage to mail those checks.

So, I figured that since Citibank is over here, surely I could open a Euro-denominated bank account with Citibank Germany (realizing it is a different legal and operating entity than the US bank) and link that to my US account for seamless transfer of funds. (HSBC, for example, has such a system, though HSBC isn't a player here in Germany.) Um, not so much. When I approached the Citibank branch in Chicago about this, they looked at me like I was high on crack. I submitted a question online and received a standard response about making wire transfers. I figured, though, that while the Americans might be clueless, that Citibank Germany would be able to provide better guidance.

There was a Citibank ATM within location of the Livin' and it was one of my first stops upon arrival here way back in January. I withdrew some Euro with no apparent issues. Great, right? Well, then I was looking at my Citibank account activity online and noticed that I had been assessed two fees for the withdrawal. The first was for withdrawing from a non-Citibank ATM. The second was an international currency fee (in addition to the one that is built into the withdrawal itself). Hmmm.... So I sent a message to them online asking whether, since the withdrawal most certainly had been made at a Citibank ATM, the fees would be reversed before the statement issued. Nope. They said that there had been some fine print document distributed a few months earlier saying they would assess the currency exchange fee. I responded that I had not been aware of that change and noted that I had moved to Germany and wanted to continue my banking relationship with Citibank so surely they could waive the fee this time. And what about the non-citibank ATM fee, which was still clearly erroneous? No deal. They would not reverse any of the fees. I resisted the urge to respond that it was no wonder Citibank was going down in flames. But what amazes me is that they would be willing to give up my business for $9.24. I am currently in the process of changing my banking to Wells Fargo and a scrappy little credit union of which I have been a member since I was a kid.

(I am not entirely disloyal to banking institutions. I would have stayed with the First National Bank of Geneva, had their service not so rapidly deteriorated after they were acquired by Firstar, which was then acquired sometime down the road by US Bank. I was also relatively pleased with the service of the First National Bank of Chicago (despite a significant lapse in controls over ATM password resets I noted to them based on their willingness to change my PIN at their St. Charles branch without requesting any form of identification, photo or otherwise -- funny), but I was not a fan at all of Bank One, which acquired them before itself being acquired by Chase. And while the institutions indicated above may suggest I have a strong preference for First National banks, I am not discriminatory -- I am a big, big fan of a certain Old Second National Bank. But naming a bank Fifth Third Bank? That just sounds like a loser.)

Meanwhile, I still needed a bank, so the woman who was assisting me with a lot of relocation issues assisted me in opening an account at Commerzbank, which I believe is the second largest German bank following its acquisition of Dresdner Bank. Unlike Deutsche Bank, they have fee-free accounts and also have an arrangement with Deutsche Bank and Deutsche Postbank that allows me fee-free withdrawals from their ATMs. This becomes more relevant later on, because Deutsche Bank, in turn, offers fee-free withdrawal from Bank of America ATMS in the US.

I opened up a "current account" and something that I believe is a money market account. Checks are not used here. I found it unusual that they allowed me to open both accounts without funding either one. Transactions are accomplished either through cash (unlike the limits on my US accounts, I can withdraw €1,000 per day), use of the ATM/debit/EC card, or a direct bank transfer. Bank accounts here are not secret, which I find kinda crazy. In fact, my my ATM card lists on its face my full name, the bank branch number, and my bank account number. Uhhh.... Did you want my social security and mother's maiden name, too, to make it totally easy for someone to steal my identify? The apparent control on this is that you are required to go to a banking terminal (kind of like an ATM, but different) each month to print out your bank statement. If you don't print out the statement within a certain period of time (2-3 months, I think), it is printed out and mailed to you and you are charged for this service. I assume that this shows that you have notice of all charges posted to your account and have the opportunity to challenge any unknown postings, though I have not had the need to do so at this point in time. When you open an account, you are even given a folder in which you can file those statements.

Commerzbank also has free online banking and they even offer an English interface. Sweet. But online banking here is a bit different. First, while I can see account activity for all accounts, I am unable to transfer funds from my current account to the money market account online. Instead, I have to apparently phone my personal banker or go to the branch -- and not just any branch, but my branch, I believe. Uh, seriously? So I have yet to fund the money market account because I am uncomfortable having a transfer made via oral instruction (how would she know it's me?) and I am never at home when my branch is open.

The other thing about online banking I find unusual is that it is not paperless. After you set up online banking, the bank sends you a list of about 100 numbered TAN codes and corresponding BEN numbers (I suspect TAN means Transaction Authorization Number, but am not sure -- no clue what BEN means). Then, when I set up an order for a bank transfer to another party (the equivalent of online bill payment), I enter all the information and it asks for me to enter a particular TAN number (for example, enter the 6-digit TAN number corresponding to a particular number on the paper sheet). It then returns the three-letter BEN code and authorizes the transaction. So if you want to be able to bank from wherever you are in the world, you have to carry this paper listing with you. Ridiculous. Isn't it enough that I authenticated through my user name and password when I logged in? Apparently not.

I feel compelled to note that credit cards here also operate quite a bit differently than in the US. First of all, the credit bureaus we know and love (or hate) in the US don't operate over here, at least not with the same data. So I basically have no credit here. Interesting.... Commerzbank was willing to give me a credit card based on my payroll stubs. Well, if you know how twisted and uneven the monthly cashflow is for a young partner at our firm and then try showing that suddenly beginning in January I make some money in USD and some in Euro with a whole bunch of deductions going each way and a whole lot of withholdings for tax, this gets a bit complicated as well. Somehow, though, they figured out that I am not a total deadbeat and issued me a credit card. Except it's not really a credit card. It's more like a charge card. At the end of every month they post my statement online and I have a couple days before the bank scoops the ENTIRE amount out of my current account. This is also how my Corporate AMEX card works here. I pay off my cards every month anyway, but this still caught me by surprise.

So back to the original issue of funding accounts and moving funds between Citibank and Commerzbank. The easiest way to transfer money is through a wire transfer. Easy, yes. Cheap? No. You get smacked with fees on both sides of the transactions, particularly by my friends at Citibank, which charges $30 to make a transfer online or $40 if you do it via phone or in person, plus you're still assessed whatever conversion rate they think is appropriate. So this really only makes sense if I was going to transfer larger sums, rather than simple rebalancing among accounts.

The solution finally hit me my first trip home in April. Unlike my US bank accounts that limited my daily ATM withdrawal to something like $500 (which, admittedly, was plenty), my Commerzbank account allows for withdrawals of up to €1,000 per day. Yes, Euro, so figure somewhere between $1,200-$1,300. This limitation also applies when you are out of the country, though of course a modest conversion fee is applied. So the plan was simple -- withdraw $1,200 from Bank of America ATMs (to avoid any ATM usage fee from either that machine or my bank) each day I am in the U.S., and then deposit the cash into my Citibank account. Simple plan, though not entirely without complications.

First, most Bank of America ATMs limit the per-transaction withdrawal to somewhere below $900 ($850 works, if I recall correctly). So would that then require me to find another Bank of America ATM to hit? Nope. To get around this limitation, you withdraw your first say, $600 of the day. Then you insert your card and withdraw another $600 in a different transaction at the same ATM. (Frankly, BofA, I expected more robust controls, but this works well for me.)

Second, there is the issue of the types of bills dispensed. I am frequently annoyed when a German ATM spits out everything but the first €50 in €50 bills. So if you withdraw €200, you get three €50 bills and maybe two €20s and a €10. Not surprisingly, a lot of small businesses (think street meat kiosk) aren't wild about breaking a €50 bill for you, so I find this inconvenient. The US, of course, is all about convenience. So they dispense everything except, say, the last $20 in $20 bills. You can do the math on how that works out for $1,200 multiplied by the number of days I am in the U.S. (Does this bulge make my purse look fat?) It pretty much makes me feel like I am a drug dealer in need of some serious money laundering.

And, finally, there is the matter of actually depositing this wad o' cash. It's a little too thick to just casually feed into the Citibank ATM and hope that it all gets through, doesn't clog the machine, or isn't siphoned off by whoever is handling deposits at the ATM despite the controls. So it requires presenting myself at the Citibank branch. Where I get some odd looks from the teller as I dig into my purse and dig out fists of cash and say, "I think there should about about $3,500 there....." (Anxious look from one teller to the other, since the other one has nothing to do since it's not like people have money to deposit these days. A look that says, "She doesn't look like a drug dealer....") I will have to be cautious in case I am ever over in the U.S. for a while so that I don't withdraw and deposit enough to actually trigger a Suspicious Activity Report at some bank!

(While a rather unattractive photo of me, the photo at the top includes a fan of some of the currency from the last trip to the U.S. I didn't have time to scatter it around on the floor and roll around in it. ;-) Since I return to Germany on a Sunday that trip, Citibank wasn't open so my brother was kind enough to deposit for me since I left on a Sunday. And so begin the Preuscher Drug Syndicate Suspicions....)

11 June 2009 - Roamin' (Roman) Around

A few weeks ago I had the opportunity to attend two consecutive conferences in Rome. While both conferences were excellent, they didn't allow for opportunities to see much of the city except for views from taxis or buses on the way to dinner. Alas, hotels for the respective conferences were both at least 20 minutes from the city center, so I couldn't even sneak in a bit of touristing on Sunday afternoon when I arrived. I don't consider viewing the interiors of subterranean conference rooms for hours on end to be true tourist activity. If that is the case, though, I am a HUGE tourist!

There were four moments of slight tourism, however. The night of the first conference, come colleagues of mine from the US and some clients were to have dinner in the city. Me and a bunch of guys, so I knew it would be a fun evening. The guy who arranged the dinner is known for his skill at selecting excellent restaurants, both for their ambience and service as well as the food and beverages. This was no exception. We piled into two taxis and headed into the city. The restaurant was located down some narrow cobblestone back alleys that I guess qualify as streets in Rome, but somehow the cabbie managed to get there.

Great evening. Until we left the restaurant. There were, not surprisingly, taxis waiting outside in the alley to whisk us away and the guys thought it would be nice to walk around a bit. Uhhh.... I forgot to mention that I was wearing my favorite new pair of shoes -- some hot dark red (think metallic clearcoat paint on a vehicle -- that pretty!) Christian Louboutins that, while remarkably comfortable, have a very narrow and somewhat high heel. Combine those shoes with the idea of walking in the dark on uneven cobblestone streets that are just begging to catch that heel and either damage it or send me sprawling when it latches on to said heel and I keep walking. Not good. And then the guys couldn't quite figure out where to get a cab. Not such good times. But the food was good. And the shoes survived and still look great! (I would have included a photo here, but I figured that might be totally disrespectful to Rome.)

The second adventure was the following night when we sponsored a reception at the residence of the Charge d'Affaires of the US Ambassador to Italy (or something like that). Three buses transported us from the conference hotel to the residence. Or, in the case of the bus, KINDA to the residence. The bus was attempting to turn into a very narrow street and simply could not make the angle without running over a small car parked on the street. After about 10 minutes of sitting there, the bus started backing out into two lanes of oncoming traffic. Delightful. But having seen Rome traffic and its lack of structure, I guess this is something approaching ordinary. So the bus heads another way and I figured it would approach the venue from another direction. Um, no. Instead, it drove away and just let us out with no further directions. Uhhh.... So we had to walk about five minutes from there up to the point where the bus had backed out (why it couldn't have simply let us off there is a mystery), and then another 5-10 minute walk to the residence. Fortunately someone in our bus knew which way to go! Equally fortunate is that I had changed into cobblestone-ready shoes.... I'm not entirely stupid.

The third event was a brief wander around parts of the city with one of my colleagues from Poland who had been to the city before. We had a couple of hours after the end of the first conference before we had to start focusing on the second conference, so one of my colleagues from Poland who had visited the city before was gracious enough to wander around with me for a couple hours. Not nearly enough to see all the sights, but we were able to go through the Basilica, which was my primary objective, and also saw some other places.

One of the noteworthy areas was the Spanish Steps. The steps themselves were somewhat unremarkable. What was interesting was that they were totally crowded with, um, Spaniards. And other Barcelona soccer fans. Turns out that Wednesday was also the evening when the Champions League final between Barcelona and Manchester United would be played there in Rome. The city was full of fans, with an apparent strong majority of Barcelona fans if the jerseys were any indication. (We were also close to fame the night before as we had dined -- post cocktail reception -- at an outdoor cafe from which we watched the arrival of the bus of one of the teams and the crazy fans who were waiting for it.) I watched the game with the large gathering at our hotel that night. Barcelona won rather handily, 2-0.

The last night I was in Rome, we hosted at dinner at what I can only describe as a beautiful, old Italian villa overlooking the city. We arrived just before sunset, the weather had cooled off a bit, and it was just beautiful. The photo doesn't do it justice.

3 June 2009 - Getting the Hang of Closets

[Perhaps a Weird Al Yankovic type of parody of The Beach Boys song "California Girls" changed to "California Closets."]

I may have only whined about it in passing, but I have been living without a real closet since I moved into my apartment. Apartments here (even new construction, like mine) do not contain closets in bedrooms, just as they do not, for example, contain a kitchen sink, appliances, cabinetry and other niceties. I am apparently quite blessed that I have a dark little closet for general storage (and yes, no light in said dark closet included).

When Seth and Dena were here in early January, we visited Mann Mobilia and I placed my order for a closet system -- think like a combination beteween California Closets and IKEA. It's a cabinet or series of cabinets that you purchase that can then be pimped out with shelves, drawers, shoe racks and the like. I had actually considered purchasing such a thing from IKEA, but they never had the right stuff in stock and, quite honestly, I couldn't lift the boxes of the pressboard like stuff that seems much heavier than actual hardwood. And I also wasn't quite convinced that IKEA could stand up to my closet needs for four years and, since I am going to be staring at it in my bedroom every day I wanted something that actually looked nice, rather than something that would simply suffice.

So, I designed and ordered the system at Mann Mobilia on 6 March. (I can't recall whether I mentioned in the blog from that time, but the sales clerk didn't really speak English and my German was even less developed then that it is now, but somehow we managed.) It will be in a dark wood (schwarz braun, which translates to black brown) that should match the bed I brought over from the US. It will fill the entire wall (which is only 3 meters, so not huge) of the wall in my bedroom directly across from said schwarz braun bed. I strategically designed the center section so that the top third of the cabinet will be open to allow for insertion of a certain flat screen television that is now in the living room, which TV was purchased for this purpose and will be replaced with a larger model (more about Barney, Phase II, in a later post), along with a shelf at the top for components. When the closet doors are closed, the TV is tucked out of sight so it doesn't negatively influence the room's feng shui.

(Actually, I'm not kidding about the feng shui thing. I read somewhere that a TV creates negative energy. I'm not saying I totally buy into that, but I have always thought TVs were out of place in bedroom decor. And I guess I think they are generally out of place, hence that awesome lift TV cabinet I had in the redecorated living room in Chicago that is, alas, now sitting in storage there because it doesn't work with Euro power. Grrr...)

Mann Mobilia estimated at the time of ordering (and downpayment of 50% -- anyone want to guess what this thing cost?) that it would take 10 weeks to arrive. That would put delivery at, say, May 16. Right.... When I got home from Rome last week (business, not pleasure, though there will be a blog about it, no doubt), there was a message in German on my machine. Something about MannMobilia (easy enough), schränksystem (closet system -- I might be spelling that incorrectly), termin (appointment) and a really, really quick mention of a phone number that I couldn't capture. My ever-patient and helpful executive assistant helped me call them this week. The good news is that it has indeed arrived. The bad news is that they can't install it until 23 June. :-(

In the meantime, I have a failing IKEA solution. I got a metal freestanding clothes rack that seemed somewhat stable, even though the screw holes in the metal base did not align for the last screw, it seemed stable enough (or about as stable as you can expect for €29,99). About a month ago I came home to see a leaning tree of clothes. Significant slant to the left as the rack had split at the bottom and the back portion was leaning against the wall and part of the base at the front was in the air. So each day, dressing is a delicate balancing act to keep the rest of the rack standing and some sort of tidiness to my suits.

And that's just hanging clothes. The rest of my clothes and shoes (and you know I'm not a total chick, so it's not like I have a ton of either) are still packed in long boxes littering both my bedroom and the study. This was fine during the winter as I had located jeans and a few sweaters and sufficient numbers of clothes for work. Well, with summer, I have had to start digging into the boxes. The cats think this is great fun and also have started digging in the boxes that I have left open and I now open them to find clothes strewn with fur. Not to be with all the fur-trimmed items I already have (kidding!). I suspect that the new closet will still not be large enough to hold clothes for all seasons, but at least the process should be a bit more manageable once I have a closet solution that is not threatening with every move of a hanger to fail.

(Side note. One of my nieces refers, or referred to at least once, to hangers as hookers. For those of you who know my brother Seth, you can imagine how much fun he had with that. Suffice to say for now, when I get the new closet thing, I will need more, um, hangers.)