Settling in -- Bad Munster, Germany

Money is human happiness in the abstract; he, then, who is no longer capable of enjoying human happiness in the concrete devotes himself utterly to money. 

~Arthur Schopenhauer

I am so capable of enjoying happiness in the concrete form. That's what I'll tell everyone when they ask why I don't make any money.

"I'm too busy being concretely happy."

Or perhaps that's what I'll tell myself in order to feel better when in a monetary pickle.  

Aimee... you're not broke. You're just... happy. So what if you can't afford new shoes? 

These are lines I need to learn to walk. 

I'm starting this post from the lively, cluttered kitchen of the Bad Munster farm. The walls are a mixture of brick and coral and seem to be a of a similar texture. The cabinets are sea foam green and the amber wood across the ceiling ties the colors together, creating a lively, earthy space. The washing machine whirls frantically behind me, 28 minutes left in its 3 hour cycle. The fruit bowl is piled high with bananas from Lidl and apples from the front yard. The counters are layered and stacked with oils, vinegars and spices.

This is my favorite kind of kitchen. Spotless kitchens are for people who either don't know how to turn on their stoves or for people who cook with candy thermometers and liquid nitrogen. I like kitchens with heavy pans, wooden spoons, giant bottles of olive oil and spices I could spend the entire day sniffing.

Secret stashes of chocolate are also good. Fudge is an acceptable substitute.

My first day at the farm dawned later than I had anticipated, as the cloud cover kept the sun from shining through my roof windows until nearly half seven. Fumbling around in the half-light, I made my way down the wooden stairs and into the kitchen.

Coffee... must... I adjusted the glasses falling down my nose. Coffee.

Julia came to meet us at 9:00. We cleaned the barn in preparation for new hay and straw, released the alpacas into the fields, stuffed the bags and troughs full of hay, refilled the water buckets and removed all the alpaca poop from the stable. Julia patiently explained every step of the process, making sure we knew the whys as well as the whats and hows.

We release the big boys first so that they don't get too excited when passing the ladies.

We release the little boys last so that they don't get too excited when passing the ladies.

We don't stand beside the alpacas when trying to guide them because they'll stop and go backwards if we're in front of their shoulders.

Don't get too close. They kick. The grey ones kick the most.

She didn't know the "why" for why the grey ones kick the most.

Alpacas give one warning before they spit. They'll make the noise, then they'll spray a gob of green slime. They're very fair animals.
 

Spike, the staunch, indefatigable French bulldog

We worked for a few hours and then relaxed for the majority of the afternoon. We took the dogs out on a slow, meandering walk through a nearby field and brought the alpacas in for the night.

Mellow. The super sweet, excessively hairy and stinky dog.

There's an abundance of strange, unrecognizable berries in this country.

 

Billie had to leave for work at three and Julia left the house at six, so Joe and I were left to our own devices for the evening. I'm only at this farm for three weeks, but I'm looking forward to every moment. It's crazy how enjoyable cleaning up after alpacas can be when you're working with/for such wonderful people. Billie and Julia have been so warm and welcoming that I'm thrilled to help out in any way I can. They make sure we're warm, have the right pillows, have enough chocolate in the cupboards, know how to operate the TV, have tea that we like -- on and on and on. When I told Billie that I wanted to purchase some yarn from her to knit a scarf, she gave me the costly alpaca skeins. Both women are patient, encouraging, interested in our lives and thankful for our help.

This is the kind of situation that makes me love being a volunteer.

Besides cleaning up after and feeding the animals, my work entails yoga classes, dog walking, random painting projects, cooking dinners and training the alpacas to walk long distances. 

Preconceptions: I didn't know that there's no speed limit on several German motorways. Perhaps I'll have to reevaluate whether or not I think Germans are crazy fast drivers...

Challenges: none today