When I think of the word, “acclimation,” antebellum-era New Orleans comes to mind. Hear me out. In her book Necropolis: Disease, Power, and Capitalism in the Cotton Kingdom, Dr. Kathryn Olivarius details how yellow fever shaped the economy and culture in New Orleans from the time of the Louisiana Purchase through the Civil War.
Yellow fever, which still causes around 30,000 deaths globally per year, is a nasty mosquito-borne illness that causes flu-like symptoms with a fatal twist. For those who develop severe disease, an agonizing 3-6 days of high, hemorrhagic fever, jaundice, and uncontrollable vomiting characterized by its coffee ground appearance precede a 30-60% death rate. When the coffee ground vomit appears, death is usually imminent. However, those lucky enough to survive gain lifetime immunity.
Yellow fever was so rampant in antebellum-era New Orleans, exacerbated by poor public health systems, that a socioeconomic structure coined by Dr. Olivarius as “immunocapitalism” began to arise. A white woman who faced yellow fever in childhood and survived had a high level of immunocapital in the marriage market, as her future husband could be assured that she wouldn’t die of fever in the summer months before she could bear him children. An enslaved black man who suffered from yellow fever and lived would be sold for more money, as his enslaver could trust he wouldn’t die from fever within weeks. A white emigrant from New York wouldn’t be hired as a law clerk until he had bravely acquired yellow fever during the summer months and survived.
Acclimation, as it had come to be known, was key. While rich folks would flee to their country homes during fever season, the white working class and enslaved black people couldn’t afford that option. Either they would become acclimated, or they would die. 50/50 shot.
Did I just want to talk about yellow fever? Maybe. But hear me out.
For this reason, acclimation seems a little dramatic of a term to use for my re-adjustment to my life in Germany, but I can’t help myself. Becoming re-accustomed to my life in Germany is obviously not as serious as acclimating to disease-ridden New Orleans, so please don’t come for me.
There are acclimation factors that are easy to describe, like my inability to fall asleep before 2 am and wake up before 11 due to the time difference. Still, there are other adjustments that are less quantitative. I forgot that walking and taking public transportation takes a lot of energy. I’m struggling to form German sentences. It’s so quiet everywhere. The sidewalks are covered in ice because, apparently, those aren’t shoveled here. I guess I walk like a penguin now.
I had become accustomed to life in Europe from October through December, but after a whirlwind Christmas holiday in Minnesota, I had to re-acclimate myself. October was filled with struggles alongside an anticipatory sense of newness. In January, I returned to my apartment in Hamburg without the naivety and with an increasing mountain of work and goals that seem impossible to attain in the time I have left. I don’t have enough hours in the day to do everything I need to get done and enjoy the fact that I live in freaking Germany. I’m mourning my departure before I’ve even left.
Before I get out my tiny violin to play at my pity party, I’d like to shamelessly promote my schedule of performances before my departure, as this was a major question from family and friends in the United States over the holiday:
A Celebration of German and American Classical Music
Victoria Erickson, soprano, with Meredith Nicoll, mezzo-soprano, and Friederike Sieber, piano
U.S. Embassy in Berlin
February 7, 2024, 12:30 p.m.
International Showcase of New Opera
Victoria Erickson, soprano, and Anne Wieben, soprano
Jazz Hall at the Hochschule für Musik und Theater in Hamburg
March 1, 2024, 7:30 p.m.
International Showcase of New Opera
Really Spicy Opera
Victoria Erickson, Anne Wieben, Tess Altiveros, Bree Nichols, Lisa Neher, sopranos, Jason Nichols, tenor, and Jodi Goble, piano
Reaktorhalle at the Hochschule für Musik und Theater in Munich
March 14 + 15, 2024, 7:30 p.m.
There might be a couple more added, but I won’t share them here as they’re not confirmed yet! I’ve been working so hard, and having my dedication pay off feels good. I’m also so lucky to have amazing musicians and mentors around me.
A day in my super glamorous, European life
As I continue to acclimate, I’ve been thinking of the top question I was asked while at home: “What does a typical day in Germany look like for you?” It’s a tricky question because every day looks different– variety is important to me and is part of the reason I don’t think I have the temperament for a 9 to 5 job. I’m allergic to a stringent routine. However, I’ll give an example from one day this week. I imagine there will be more rehearsals, performances, and auditions over the next couple of months, but as I get re-acclimated to life in Germany, this was a week dedicated to preparation and planning.
Thursday, January 11
9:30- Wake up. Coffee, shower, journal, and plan my day. This one was tough as I struggled to fall asleep before 2 a.m. due to continued jetlag. I haven’t woken up before 10 since.
10:15- Walk to the bus. There’s a transit strike in Germany, but luckily, my trusty bus route is still running.
11:00- Meeting at the Staatsoper with the opera foundation manager. In addition to surveying patrons when I go to the opera, part of my project is interviewing donors about audience engagement, taste, preferences, and attendance post-pandemic. I will write an academic paper on my findings after the conclusion of my DAAD.
12:30- Lunch. And more coffee.
1- Phone call with a colleague regarding Munich residency planning.
2- Gym time. I’m training for a triathlon in August, so Thursday was dedicated to running. My apartment building has a small gym in the basement, a huge time saver.
3- Practice time. I’m in an apartment with many musicians, so we have a couple of practice rooms in the b a. I usually do gym time and practice time together. Plenty of singers talk about their practice routine, but since I have so much music to work on in the next three months, I plan my practice sessions on a color-coded calendar. On Thursday, I focused on Rosalinda’s aria from Die Fledermaus and worked on/memorized a section of The Miller’s Daughter, which premieres in April. A big mistake I used to make in my sessions was to try and do too much. Now, I hone in on specifics, turn my phone on airplane mode, and get nitty-gritty. I never sing for more than an hour at once.
4- Writing time.
7- Dinner time.
7:30- Start round 1 feedback on the student composers’ pieces.
9:30- Score study. Watch reality TV shows until I finally fall asleep.
While not glamorous or exciting, that’s just one example of a typical day in my life. Regular throughlines include gym, practice, writing, and project work, but some days I might meet a friend for a walk or a coffee, attend an opera, go to my German class, or hit up a museum. I have to do the same things we all do at home: go to the grocery store, run errands, and attend appointments. There might be phone calls, meetings, or wine in the kitchen with my roommates. On Tuesdays, I go to Berlin to coach. While I try to limit my work on the weekends, I couldn’t avoid it this first week back. Every day is different, and my work is fulfilling.
The biggest difference in my daily life is the time allotted for travel. It takes more time and energy to go places by walking or taking public transportation than hopping in my Honda Civic. Therefore, I feel more intentional about when I go out. It’s just an adjustment. Getting acclimated.
Back to yellow fever
I’m quickly getting re-accustomed to my life in Germany. The stakes aren’t quite as high as those in antebellum-era New Orleans, where citizens either acclimated or died. (I’m well aware that I’m reaching with this comparison. I just wanted to talk about yellow fever, okay?) However, something must be said for adjusting to a culture rather than resisting it. Public transportation, European grocery stores, lifestyle, and constant strikes are different here than in the United States. But I’m trying to be all in. I’ve asked my mentors to speak German to me and I try my best to keep up. I’ve gained a sense of the tastes in German opera, both standard and new, and adapted to it. It’s not life or death; it’s only my happiness at stake.
Traveling is hard before acclimation, as getting used to a new culture takes time. Keeping an openness to change and differences is key. Luckily, I’ve become accustomed to my new conditions. Like the ambitious businessmen who chose to brave yellow fever for the promise of economic prosperity, I was willing to relocate across the world to find my artistic self. Unlike these doomed businessmen, I’m feeling good about my prospective survival. While there have been difficult moments, the positives far outweigh the negatives. It’s good to be back.
The Shifting Soprano 