Thursday, August 2, 2007

Die Volkshochschule Köln

Just over an hour ago I registered for a German class at Die Volkshochschule, a city college centrally located a block or so from Neumarkt, next to the public library. The building has these crazy elevators. They have no doors, and run continuously (kinda like an escalator). You step into it when a platform appears, grab a handrail, and quickly hop off when you've arrived at your floor. Makes me feel like a coal miner.

As for the class, it's an intensive, two-month course, with five-hour sessions five days per week. For the record, there are other, less exacting courses available, both during the day and in the evening, but since I'm not working, I figured I'd go whole-hog. The VHS's courses are pretty affordable, running approximately EU 2,00 per hour of instruction. My class begins on the 13th of August, and the kicker is that each daily session begins at 8:15am (Annamarie, in particular, should find this amusing). This means leaving our Marienburg place at about 7:30. Once we move to more permanent digs in September, I can probably leave a little later.

Anyway, it'll be nice having a little more structure to my day. Since returning from Seattle last week I've been trudging through two books (Scratches by Michel Leiris, and The Woman at the Keyhole by Judith Mayne) that haven't really inspired a lot of excitement in me. I do worry, however, that this class will stall further forays in Proust.


Annamarie said...

Oh I AM amused!!! I think we should start a pool to see if you can make it until the end. Any takers???

Aaron Burkhalter said...

I'm betting he'll make it to all of his classes, but I have an image of Chris standing on a crowded bus, holding himself up with a handle from the ceiling, looking like he's hung over and about to pass out.

I conjure this image based on what I assume I look like crossing the Tacoma Narrows Bridge each morning, my hands on a steering wheel of my car, rather than on a handle of a bus.

Burkhalter boys were not built for morning excursions. Our hearts belong to the night, where we run amok without fear of the glaring and evil sunshine.

Annamarie said...

Oh, I can see it! The handle will keep him from falling.

I've always wondered why you boys have no reflections when you're around mirrors.