Food for Thought: Behind the Scenes in the University of Bremen Cafeteria

by Alex Arnold ’27

There’s something mysterious and alluring about the kitchens which hide behind cafeterias and the way they prepare high volumes of food at a lighting pace. This fact doesn’t change whether you’re in Germany or the US. One thing that does change, however, is the word that we use for cafeteria. In Germany, the cafeteria is known as the Mensa. While Dickinson’s slings out food for breakfast, lunch, and dinner seven days a week (minus Sunday mornings, of course), the Mensa at the University of Bremen is open only during weekdays for lunch. And unlike the cafeteria at Dickinson, it is the great equalizer: students, staff, and faculty alike can be seen making the pilgrimage down the Boulevard at 12 o’clock towards the Mensa. A trend partially reinforced by the wonderfully cheap prices for high-quality food achieved through subsidies.   The Mensa is a mystery hiding in plain sight. It is an essential cog within the university, (literally) fueling the work that is done here. Yet, although it is a part of our everyday routine here in Bremen, no one seems to think twice about how the Mensa succeeds at delivering tasty, fresh, and diverse food options for a university of nearly 18,000 students and 3,500 more staff each day.

It’s time we lift the curtain and see what’s going on behind the scenes. How does the Mensa operate here in Bremen? Who calls the shots? Who is cooking the food we eat and where is it coming from? These are the questions that I wanted to answer. On a June weekend, the perfect opportunity presented itself! Each summer, the University of Bremen hosts an “Open Campus Day” on which members of the community are invited to visit the university grounds to see what sort of work is being done – and, importantly, where their tax Euro are being spent; after all the university, like most others in Germany, is a public, entirely state-funded institution, enabling tuition-free study for its students. On this particular Open Campus Day, a guided tour through the University Mensa was being advertised online. Upon hearing of the opportunity from our Dickinson program coordinator, Antonia (Toni) Gabler, I jumped at the chance to learn more about this beloved and mysterious campus feature and quickly signed up for the tour. Below, I will recount my fascinating excursion behind the scenes of the Mensa and share what I learned in the process.

The long-awaited Saturday finally arrived. The start of the tour could perhaps be best described as the exposition in a gruesome and frightening thriller novel. I and the other perhaps 20 people who had signed up for the Mensa tour, including program coordinator, Toni, were guided through the glass doors which serve as the entrance to the Mensa. The group hushed in anticipation, gathered around two employees wearing black chef’s uniforms. We stood in the entryway of the large, familiar space. Normally bustling with the din of lunch-goers laughing and chatting, today oddly still and empty. We were divided into two groups; my group followed the interim operations manager of the Mensa, our expert tour guide for the day, as he led us back outside. Outside? Yes, he muttered, something about a “back entrance”.

It was a confused type of day. One moment rain would pour from the clouds, the next, the sun shone through patches of blue sky. Back on the Boulevard, the wind whipped, spattering rain across our faces. We followed our chef leader down the stairs to the lower level of the university complex. For those who haven’t been there, the University of Bremen’s campus is somewhat labyrinthine, with utility entrances and loading docks located beneath the main level of the academic and administrative buildings. Having reached the gloomy lower, semi-outdoor space beneath the brutalist concrete structures, we were sheltered from the rain. A particularly violent gust of wind blew through the tunnel. Bang! The wind had caught the metal door of a cage surrounding some trash bins which reverberated loudly as it slammed into the solid concrete facade. Still, our leader marched on in front of us, guiding us somewhere. Was the cold drop sliding down my back merely from the rain we had recently walked through or the result of a nervous sweat? Our guide stopped outside a large garage door, we stopped too. Where are we? I had never been to this part of campus before and everything was unfamiliar. The wind whistling, a large menu card appeared in my mind’s eye. Messy red letters spelling “Today’s special: You”. These frightening visions were, however, thankfully extinguished as soon as we entered through the door. The tour proved to be highly informative and very fun. First, we were told how the Mensa receives deliveries every morning beginning at 6:30 from a wide variety of suppliers, depending on the goods being delivered. The group was still rather quiet at this point, no one wanted to pose questions yet. I suspect this had to do with the fact that they, too, were recovering from reveries about the newest kitchen murder mystery. From the loading bay, we moved to dry storage where all of the shelf stable items used by the Mensa are stored. Here, the sheer volume of the ingredients struck me. Pallets laden with 25-pound bags of salt, sugar, and coffee. All, our guide explained, are used by the Mensa in only about a month’s time. Then they must be restocked. Some canned goods and preserves were also to be found in dry storage, but the operations manager emphasized that he didn’t much like using canned goods and tried to use fresh whenever possible.

Image 1: Dry storage in the lower level of the university Mensa.
Image 2: Spaghetti ready to be cooked for next week’s lunch

Next, we got to see a few of the Mensa’s many walk-in refrigerators and freezers. Having worked in food service myself, I was impressed with the degree of organization and meticulousness in the storage areas. Everything had its place and all is kept in a neat order.

Image 3: View from inside one of the Mensa’s walk-in refrigerators, everything is neatly organized.

From storage, we moved on to the areas where the true magic happens. The prep areas and the kitchen. First, we walked through the salad and pasta prep areas. All of the Mensa’s nearly 100 employees are divided into teams of 3 to 4 people, the manager explained. These teams work together and rotate through the various tasks which need to be accomplished each day for the Mensa to run smoothly. For instance, one week, Team A might be on salad prep station, washing lettuce and cutting up ingredients for the daily salad bar. Team B, meanwhile, might be on sauce duty, whipping up the various sauces and dips required for that week’s menu. The Mensa operates a six-week menu cycle, by the way. All recipes are created in house. After a certain number of days, the teams rotate and get a new assignment. This way, the guide explained, the Mensa is never left in a bind if someone doesn’t show up for work. All the employees are able to accomplish all the tasks and jump in where needed. Additionally, the rotating teams method breaks up the monotony of peeling carrots day after day.

In the prep kitchens, too, the scale was impressive. One could see jumbo-sized versions of familiar kitchen appliances like a 30-liter stand mixer or pasta maker. Even the kitchen tools, like whisks and spatulas, had to be scaled up to handle the high volumes of food they are used to prepare. Two of the most special sights were still to come, however.

Image 4: Super-sized kitchen equipment, whisks, spatulas, and paddles, located in the main kitchen

One of these highlights was the main kitchen itself. Located back upstairs on the main level, the kitchen is a particularly exciting sight. This is because, as a regular customer of the Mensa, one catches tantalizing glimpses of the action happening in the kitchen when the double doors swing open and piping hot batches of whatever-the-day’s-dish are efficiently bustled out to the service line on shining silver carts. A full and unimpeded view of the main kitchen did not disappoint. Here, it is also divided neatly into stations. You have the friers at one end (oil changed weekly), kettles – which more so resemble bathtubs – for soups in the middle, a large selection of flattops and grills, and a row of 6 large, high-tech ovens in the back.

Image 5: Large kettles and grills used to cook each day’s meals in the main kitchen of the Mensa
Image 6: The high-tech ovens of the Mensa

At this point, I was able to ask a question that had been on my mind for some time. Namely, how much food waste is generated by the Mensa and where does it go? It is clear that quite some thought has been put into this matter, and our guide emphasized how little actually gets wasted. For one, initiatives like the “Zero-Waste Plate”, first implemented a few years ago, during which leftovers from that day’s service are sold at closing time for reduced price, have helped cut down on prepared food waste. The unavoidable waste that is generated through scraps and byproducts is sorted thoughtfully into bio-waste bins, which is a staple of the fabled German “Mülltrennung” or trash-separation system. This bio-waste is then presumably mixed with other municipal bio-waste and either composted or turned into biogas.

But I have left one stop unmentioned, and intentionally so. I wanted to save my favorite moment until the end. I invite you, reader, to take a moment and consider which essential part of any dining hall kitchen I haven’t described yet. Imagine you have just finished with an extraordinarily satisfying lunch of risotto-style barley in tomato sauce with succulent vegan meatballs. You scrape the last grain from your bowl and mentally prepare to return to work. Picking up your tray, you walk towards the exit. And what do you do? You set your dirty-dish-laden tray upon the rolling conveyer belt (Fließband) which takes them conveniently out of sight and delivers them… Where? Perhaps the most overlooked and most wonderful part of any dining hall is this conveyer belt. Day in, day out, we simply set our tray down, and it is carried smoothly out of our consciousness.

It was a great joy to see where this magical invention takes our dirty dishes and what happens thereafter. The dish return belt at the Mensa snakes out of sight, around a corner and through a small gap in the wall. Before we entered the main kitchen, our guide took us to a special doorway. Before entering, he turned to face us, expression stony, and said, “before you stands two and a half million Euro”. And he opened the door. Before us, central in the small room, stood a great gleaming beast of stainless steel. At one end of the chamber, the conveyer belt could be seen entering the room through the small gap in the wall. The belt followed the wall right to the other end of the room and then curved into the mouth of the beast.

Image 7: The conveyer belt entering the room through the small gap in the wall
Image 8: View of of the Mensa’s million-dollar dishwasher

Here, shared out guide, stand two employees on duty during service, scraping plates clean, removing lingering napkins, rearranging silverware, before they are fed to the great machine. They have to work fast; the belt doesn’t stop. They pick up the plates and bowls, removing them from their gray plastic chariots on which they arrived and arrange them neatly in the likewise constantly moving belt which is designed with bumps and ridges to hold the dishes in place as they move onward. The beast has three bellies: one for dishes, one for silverware, and one for trays. After the trays are free from plates and bowls, they travel through a separate section of the machine. Hidden within this next metal-plated tunnel is a powerful magnet. It snatches the silverware up off of the tray and deposits it all onto a separate silverware-specific belt (the second belly). The trays themselves, now freed of all their cargo, travel through the third belly where they are washed and sanitized like the other items. On the other end, the clean dishes and silverware roll slowly out and are sorted manually by employees. The trays, on the other hand, stack themselves neatly onto carts. Then, the cleaned items are wheeled back into the dining area and the process repeats itself.

Picture 9: The conveyer belt enters the dishwasher, left is the magnet which attracts silverware

I hope that this post encourages you to think about and have more appreciation for the miraculous feat that is the university canteen. And next time they’re out of your favorite soup or there is a traffic jam at the dish return, maybe you’ll have more understanding armed with the knowledge of just how many moving pieces hide behind this system.

Hausarbeiten at the University of Bremen

by Alex Arnold ’27

As we prepare to start the second semester here in Bremen, I wanted to take a moment to share about one of the central elements of the Dickinson in Bremen program, which often gets passed over in blog posts in favor of exciting excursions or volunteer experiences. What is this overlooked, yet fundamental, piece of the study abroad experience? The academics, of course. But wait! Don’t let your eyes glaze over and your focus drift away, because, unlike the monotone lecture of a professor who just can’t seem to retire, this reflection about completing my first semester at the University of Bremen is far more interesting than you might think! I’d like to share about the unique experience I had while writing one of my final papers and why I, counterintuitively, had a blast doing it.   

First, an overview of where the academic calendar in Germany differs to the one we are used to in the United States. While in the U.S. the fall semester typically starts in late August/early September and ends mid-December, in Germany, there is the “winter semester”. In the German winter semester, classes begin in early October, continuing through the end of January with a two-week break for the Christmas and New Year holidays. At the beginning of February, lectures end, but the winter semester is still not over! Two months succeed the end of the lecture period in which students compose final papers, known as Hausarbeiten, for their courses (particularly those in the humanities), which are due in March. This period is known as the “Vorlesungsfreie Zeit” or “lecture-free time”. Of course, not all courses follow this structure, with some relying instead on exams. After all work from the first semester has been handed in, the second semester, “summer semester”, begins in the second week of April, with much the same structure.  

In this blog post, I want to share about my experience writing one particular Hausarbeit for a course I took in the winter semester entitled “Niederdeutsch – Sprachliche Variationen in Norddeutschland”, or “Low German – Linguistic Variations in North Germany”. For those who haven’t studied German, it might come as a surprise to learn that a country as small as Germany is home to a wide variety of dialects. In northern Germany, one such dialect, which is sometimes even considered its own language, is “Niederdeutsch” or “Low German”. It is better known to Germans as “Plattdeutsch” or simply “Platt”, meaning flat. In the Middle Ages throughout the Renaissance, Low German was used widely across northern Germany, particularly as a common language for conducting trade during the highly lucrative time of the Hanseatic League. Since its golden age, the dialect has lost its prominence and is spoken far less frequently. Today, it is mostly found in small pockets across northern Germany, primarily in rural areas, spoken by older generations.  

While brainstorming possible research questions for my Hausarbeit (a paper’s focus is usually left open for students to determine and approved after consultation with the professor), I began looking into the connection between Low German and the United States. Much to my surprise, I discovered that Low German has a rich history in the United States. Determining how the dialect made its way into the U.S. and what influence it’s had became the guiding questions of my paper. Finding a way to connect the topic to back home, of course, made the research far more enjoyable. But there was something else that made this project feel special, and for that, I have to thank the EU. 

In 1999, the European Union officially recognized Low German with the status of “regional language” and in doing so mandated the implementation of measures to protect and preserve the language from extinction in Germany. These measures included the establishment of a council for the preservation of Low German, introduction of Low German courses in select schools and universities (such as the very course I was taking at the University of Bremen), as well as the creation of a dedicated institute called the “Institut für niederdeutsche Sprache” (INS) to support research on the dialect. 

It was a dark hour. I had neared the end of where the university library catalog could get me in terms of the history on Low German in the United States, having found nothing but a single anthology. I was seriously starting to worry that I was not going to be able to find the information I needed to write about this topic. That’s when some luck struck in the form of the INS. 

View of Bremen’s historic Schnoor district. ©A.Arnold

Having heard about the existence of the INS in my seminar, I decided to do some poking around and see just what type of institute it was. All I knew about the place was that it was situated in a historic building in Bremen’s “Schnoor” district, one of the oldest and most beautiful areas of town. I had walked by it many times, in fact, but had never seen so much as a light on inside. I had little hope but great desperation. I think this is what led me to pick up the phone and make a call to the number listed on the INS-Website. With a mounting fear that someone would actually pick up on the other end of the line, I paced determinedly, ready to spring into my rehearsed dialogue. Next to tornadoes, talking on the phone in German may be one of my greatest fears, you see. To my surprise, I had a lovely conversation that proved to be invaluable in the process of writing my research paper. What I learned over the telephone was that the INS is home to the largest collection of books written in Low German as well as countless other works regarding all things Low German and that all these materials could be browsed online using the INS’s library catalog search service. Jackpot. 

From that point on, the fun really started. Next thing I knew, I had arranged an appointment at the INS building in Schnoor to read through the many resources that I had found in my searches through the online catalog. During this process, I found out that INS had very limited hours, opening only for a few hours Tuesday through Thursday, which explained why I had never seen any sign of life in the building before. I wasn’t sure what to expect when I stepped foot in the charming building for the first time.  

The face of the INS-Building located in Schnoor. The words “us Platt bewohr us ditt ole Snoorhuus” displayed on the building’s facade are Low German, meaning “This old Schnoor-House preserves our Platt”. ©A.Arnold

Whatever my expectations were, it’s fair to say that they were quickly exceeded. The house, although it doesn’t look it from the outside, contains four stories. The spiral staircases, various small rooms, winding corridors, and a frankly confusing but homey layout attest to its ancient construction. All of it lined, floor to ceiling, with books and other archived materials, either composed in or relating to Low German. There must be some organizational system to it all, because, upon showing the INS-library’s only employee the call numbers of the resources I wanted to access, she sprang into action, retrieving the works I had identified. What really sealed the deal was when the librarian offered me a quiet workplace on the building’s second floor where I was allowed to stay as long as the premises were open. The view out of second floor window, looking out into the narrow, picturesque street of Schnoor says it all.

View out of the second-floor window of the INS after a rainstorm.  ©A.Arnold

I came back to the INS building as often as I could while working on my paper. Upon its completion, I was met with a little bit of sadness that I wouldn’t have a reason to visit the INS so often anymore. But, in thanking the librarian for all her help, she reminded me that I am always welcome to stop in whenever I’m passing by. And as for Low German in the United States, the story continues into the present. Many groups with North German heritage living in the U.S. today, particularly Mennonites who immigrated in the late 19th and early 20th century, together with members of clubs founded by immigrants, as well as various academics dedicated to the study of Low German, keep the dialect alive across the United States. 

Favorite Experience in Vienna 

– by Alex Arnold ’27

It’s difficult to pick out just one experience from the trip as my favorite as they all added to another in some way, giving us more perspective regarding the city’s history and culture. Another reason behind this simply being that the entire trip was filled with special moments. However, for the sake of sharing one of these special moments, I will highlight my Tuesday, the fifth full day of our excursion. 

My Tuesday began, like many other mornings of the excursion, early with a morning walk through still-sleepy streets of the capital. While I treasured roaming through the history-rich streets throughout the trip, the most special part of our Tuesday was still to come.

The Austrian National Library

The day’s scheduled program began with a journey to the Austrian National Library. Located in the former royal castle complex, the staff at the national library generously provided us students with a private tour, during which we were able to look (and even touch) some of the library’s oldest books. Many could be traced back to the Middle Ages, some of which were hand-written, as they predated the invention of the Gutenberg printing press. Speaking of which, we even saw a page of one of the first Bibles to be printed by Johannes Gutenberg and his newly developed printing press, dating back to the mid-15th century. 

Afterwards, we were treated to a delicious and traditional Austrian lunch at a nearby locale. I swear I could eat that potato salad every day of my life and be happy. After a sweet end to our lunch with Palatschinken for dessert (traditional Viennese pancakes, similar to crepes), we moved on to our next destination: the Kunsthistorisches Museum. The art museum is one of Vienna’s most spectacular and largest. The Renaissance Revival building alone, built between 1871 and 1891 under Habsburg Emperor Franz Joseph I., is nothing short of breath-taking. Audio-guide in hand, I joked about staying until the museum closed, and they threw me out. I quickly realized it wasn’t a joke at all, minus the being thrown out part. After around 4 hours in the museum, I left 10 minutes before the doors closed, having managed to see about an eighth of the permanent exhibit. Not wanting to miss any of the history, I had read every placard and listened to every audio file that I could. Despite how shockingly little of the museum I saw, I enjoyed every second of my deep dive into the section of the exhibit that I visited which was filled, primarily, with Renaissance sculptures and devices. 

The Kunsthistorisches Museum Wien

Vienna Excursion 2026

End of February, we went on our annual spring semester excursion to Vienna. Read some impressions our students shared about their experience in Vienna.

In front of Castle Schönbrunn

Vienna is a wonderful city! I am very grateful that we were able to take the time to explore the city so closely. I had the chance to see my first ever opera here, and Vienna certainly lives up to its name as the city of music! 
– Kris Nguyen ’27

Opera (Volksoper)

There was a lot to love about Vienna, the cafes, the museums, the architecture, the history, etc. I really loved getting to see all of these beautiful aspects of Vienna in different ways. I enjoyed how much free time we had as well. It was so interesting to hear how everyone spent their time in various ways. 
– Haley Henderson ’27

Café Demel
View from the top of the tower at Stephansdom

Since my early days spent learning German, Vienna has been at the top of my list of places to visit. The trip felt, therefore, like a dream come true. While I can’t guarantee that my years-long ambition to visit the Austrian capital had no influence on my impression of the city, I attest Vienna to be truly remarkable. It’s hard to find the right–or even worthy adjectives–to describe Vienna’s opulence. The city was far more beautiful than I could have imagined; even the tucked-away side streets off the beaten baroque-palace-lined path had a special charm. I think a quote from the Vienna-based band, Wiener Blond, sums up the unique, somewhat-stuffy, and, above-all, charming atmosphere best: Wien “du bist keine Stadt, eigentlich bist du ein Museum”, they sing, Vienna, you’re no city, really you’re a museum.
– Alex Arnold ’27

Lunch at the 12 Apostelkeller

Vienna was such a great city! As a group we went to multiple different museums and historic sites such as the Art History Museum, The Vienna Library, and got to have a tour of the United Nations! My favourite place I got the chance to see was the Hundertwasser Museum! 
– Emma James ’27

Visiting the United Nations in Vienna
Hundertwasser House and Museum

SoLaWhat? – Alternative food systems in Germany

by Alex Arnold ’27

Dear reader,

I’d first like to extend to you a belated new year’s greeting. Wherever you may be tuning in from, us students of the 2025-26 Dickinson in Bremen cohort wish you an exciting and successful start to 2026. Now, on to the meat and potatoes. Well, maybe not so much meat, but the potatoes were no figure of speech. The topic of this blog post is SoLaWi’s!

“Wait, So La What?”, you may be asking yourself. Well, stick around and let me to explain, because if you like to eat food, enjoy nature, or perhaps just playing in the dirt, I wager that you’ll be interested in learning about this topic and that you may even be inspired to discover more after reading this brief post.

Figure 1: Pamphlet advertising for the SoLaWi Sophienhof in Bremen

Allow me to begin by writing a little bit about my background and why I care to share about SoLaWi’s (SO-LAH-VEE’s). My name is Alex Arnold (‘27) and I am a German major studying in Bremen for the full ‘25-26 academic year. Beyond my major in German, I am also pursuing a Food Studies certificate and am, when in Pennsylvania, engaged with the Dickinson College Farm. In the summer of 2024, after finishing my first year of college, I stayed on campus in Carlisle to work on the farm full time. That summer, I not only became intimately acquainted with each and every street in a 10-block radius of campus, but I also learned about organic farming and alternative food systems. Before I knew it, I had become fascinated with agricultural and food production.

My interest in food systems did not decline after that summer; it developed further as I enrolled in a variety of Food Studies courses, eager for more knowledge about the field that I had been working in–literally. With some information regarding my background provided, I’d like to transition back to Germany and explain why this whole SoLaWi business is so exciting.

Finally, a definition! SoLaWi is an acronym for “solidarische Landwirtschaft” which, directly translated, means solidarity agriculture. For those readers already familiar with alternative food systems, I have a comparison to the U.S. that I will provide in just a moment to help you visualize what sort of system this blog is about. For readers less familiar with the topic, a quick summary of this “food system” talk is helpful for understanding what makes SoLaWi’s special.

Things can quickly become abstract when talking about food systems, but don’t worry, the concept is actually quite simple. A food system consists of all the interactions along the supply network which, beginning with the producers (that’s the farmers who grow food), result in food getting to your plate. In between farms and you are any number of processors, distributors, and sellers, which changes based on commodity, location, etc.[i]  When we look at today’s conventional food system we are looking at systems based on large-scale, intensified agriculture (many crops per unit of space, i.e. high density) in which, worldwide, the number of food-producing farms is decreasing, and size of those remaining farms is increasing.[ii] Furthermore, the length of food chains–the distance food is traveling and how many intermediaries there are in between producer and consumer (that’s you!)–are far longer than they were in the not-so-distant past (1980s), when free trade agreements began allowing for more specialization in food production.

Phew, that got a little dense. I hear you, reader; I’ll get to the point. As you can imagine, today’s food system isn’t without its flaws. Although specialization and intensified agriculture have provided us with year-round access to all sorts of fruits, vegetables, meat and dairy products at prices that are relatively affordable, this has also resulted in a host of problems, both environmental and social. First, intensive agriculture relies heavily on the use of synthetic fertilizers, pesticides, herbicides, and lots of tillage to achieve high yields. Among other consequences, these practices result in a loss of biodiversity and, counterproductively, make soil less and less fertile for crops as time goes on.[iii] Perhaps just as importantly, our current food system has resulted in a disconnect–not just in terms of distance–between us consumers and the places our food comes from, farms and farmers, that is.

Since the late 20th century, these issues have not gone unnoticed. One concept that emerged in response to these trends in the food system was the banding together of communities to collectively bear the costs–and some of the responsibility–of operating a farm. That’s what SoLaWi’s are all about. A community supported farm, so to speak, or a community supported agriculture (CSA). Perhaps you’ve heard of CSA’s; they are essentially the U.S. counterpart to the German SoLaWi. Interestingly, German ideas surrounding agricultural in the early 20th century, such as Rudolf Steiner’s exploration of biodynamic farming, happened to serve as a foundation for CSA in the U.S. The idea of community supported farming isn’t unique to just the U.S. or Germany, however. Similar movements can be traced across the globe, yet their origins are largely independent. Today, however, this network of community-supported, small-scale farms is more connected, with knowledge and experience being shared through various pathways.

This brings us to a small farm in northern Germany called Sophienhof, one of a few hundred SoLaWi farms in the country today. As of 2021, the total number of SoLaWi farms in Germany according to the solidarische Landwirtschaft network stood at 368, reflecting major growth since the founding of the first SoLaWi in 1989.[iv]  Sophienhof is located in a small town about 25 miles outside of Bremen called Oldendorf. In 2013, Sophienhof began operating as a SoLaWi and, as of 2024, supports and is supported by around 420 members, with visions of continuing growth into the future. The farm is ecologically certified under the German Öko certification (similar to an organic certification in the U.S.) and operates with the guiding principles of sustainable resource management and fair treatment of animals. Yes, there are animals on the farm as well; a small herd of cattle, specifically. Beyond a diverse offering of vegetables, members of the SoLaWi can also choose to receive beef as part of their share.

After arriving in Bremen in early October, I soon realized a part of me was missing my work on the Dickinson College Farm and the accompanying supply of seasonal vegetables, the kind so fresh that you can still smell the earth on them. It was in my exploration for fresh produce that I discovered an online tool designed by the solidarische Landwirtschaft network, allowing me to search for SoLaWi’s in my area. A quick search led me to Sophienhof, which appeared to be just what I was looking for. Having some experience with CSA’s, albeit from the producer side of things through Dickinson College Farm’s very owncampus supported agriculture, I was eager to see what it was like being a part of a SoLaWi in Germany. Not to mention, it was becoming harder to ignore the restless dreams I was having about Lacinato kale and radicchio.

A quick inquiry form was all it took, and I was signed up to receive vegetables from Sophienhof! The way it works in practice is sort of like a subscription service. Members of the SoLaWi pay a monthly “subscription” fee and, in exchange, receive a box of fresh vegetables each week, available for pick-up at select locations across the city. Sophienhof offers a choice between three different portion sizes, at varying price points: small (for a single person), medium (two people), and large (four people). After selecting your preferred portion and pick-up location (in my case, a small portion to be picked up from the nearby home of a long-time SoLaWi member), the fun begins! Each week on Friday, the team from Sophienhof delivers boxes full of vegetables to the different pick-up points. Members of the SoLaWi–“Solawistas” as we are affectionately addressed in farm communications–flock to the depots to pick up our vegetables.

Figure 2: Crates of fresh vegetables ready for pick-up on Friday afternoon

On a regular fall/winter week, I receive cold hearty vegetables such as kale, cabbage (of all varieties), kohlrabi, as well as vegetables that hold up well in storage such as beets, carrots, onions, and lots of potatoes. To any of our readers who have a favorite potato-based recipe, I encourage you to share it in the comments as I would be thrilled to find new ways to eat the high volume of starchy tubers slowly colonizing my shelf space.

Figure 3: My first portion of vegetables from Sophienhof in November

An important question is how much this all costs. As I began considering the possibility of joining a SoLaWi, I wasn’t sure that it would be feasible on our stipend budget. However, I was surprised by the affordability of vegetables through Sophienhof. Per month, it costs €61 for my “small” share of vegetables. This puts the cost per week at just over €15, which is still well within my weekly grocery budget. I found the relatively low cost surprising, having conceived the price for fresh, organic vegetables to be much higher. In fact, after doing some comparison, I discovered that if I were to purchase the same quantity of organic produce at a supermarket, it would cost the same if not more than what I pay to directly support Sophienhof.

I’ll leave you with this reflection about what makes this concept of community supported agriculture so special. By choosing to buy my produce from a small, local farm, I am accomplishing a few really cool things at once. First, to my benefit, I am receiving fresh veggies at a fair price that are, without a doubt, tastier than what I can find in stores. Additionally, shifting toward the broader social benefits, I get the privilege of knowing exactly where my food is coming from, who is growing it, and what their philosophy for tending the land is (e.g. what types of inputs they are using, how they are treating the soil and ecosystem, etc.). At a community level, I am supporting a local business and in turn supporting the region itself. By being a part of a SoLaWi, I am not just paying for vegetables, I am paying to support well-paid agricultural jobs in the area, to strengthen community ties through food, and to support folks who manage the land in a respectful and sustainable way. Lastly, there is the environmental aspect to consider. By taking part in an alternativefood system, I am choosing a path that seeks to remedy some of the flaws in today’s conventional system. Sourcing local vegetables through a SoLaWi means less transport and associated emissions, little to no packaging waste, and more responsible land stewardship without the use of harmful chemicals.

Thanks for reading along and I hope that I’ve sparked some curiosity regarding where your food comes from!


[i] Parasecoli, Fabio. 2019. “Making Sense of Food Systems.” In Food. MIT Press. 45.

[ii] Lowder, Sarah K., Jakob Skoet, and Terri Raney. 2016. “The Number, Size, and Distribution of Farms, Smallholder Farms, and Family Farms Worldwide.” World Development 87 (November): 16–29. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.worlddev.2015.10.041.

[iii] Gomiero, T., M. G. Paoletti, and D. Pimentel. 2008. “Energy and Environmental Issues in Organic and Conventional Agriculture.” Critical Reviews in Plant Sciences 27 (4): 239–54.     https://doi.org/10.1080/07352680802225456.

[iv] Netzwerk Solidarische Landwirtschaft e.V. 2021. Solidarische Landwirtschaft: Das Netzwerk stellt sich vor. Accessed on 01.18.2026 from https://www.solidarische-landwirtschaft.org/fileadmin/media/solidarische-landwirtschaft.org/Das-Netzwerk/Ueber-uns/Selbstdarstellung_2021_DRUCK.pdf

My Semester abroad in Bremen

by Kate Elmes ’27

Hi, my name is Kate and I’m about to finish up my semester in Germany! I pulled together some pics that I feel are a good representation of my time here. 

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Pics 1 and 2 – These are from my time in Leipzig, where I chose to take my language course. Through it, I got to meet lots of people from all over the world and explore the city and the area from the perspective of a city native. If you ever find yourself in Leipzig, I highly recommend the zoo – it’s huge, there’s lots of opportunities to pet the animals, and students get in at a discount! 

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Pics 3, 4, and 5 – Bremen! I loved the city and the campus. The schoolwork was tough for a non native German speaker, but as long as you stay organized, you’ll have lots of time to explore the city and make friends. Almost all museums here are free to students, so I spent a lot of time in the Kunsthalle. The 5th picture is from a soccer game I went to with other Dickinson and Uni Bremen students!

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Pics 6 and 7 – I got lots of chances to travel by myself ! I visited family and friends all over Europe, and made tons of lasting memories. Europe’s train system and the student travel pass make it super easy and pretty inexpensive to get around. Pic 7 is the view of a canal in Amsterdam, my favorite of all the places I visited.

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Pics 8 – I was also able to travel with my fellow Dickinson students on organized group outings. Most of the outings were in Bremen – German-American Mayors Conference, Literature Festival, etc – but I particularly loved the excursion to Berlin! My favorite part of the trip was getting to meet the playwright B. K. Tragelehn and hearing about his life.

Studying Econ in Bremen

by Grear Boyd ’25

Hello!

My name is Grear and I was an economics student at Vanderbilt University until the Spring of 2025. I was blessed to be able to participate in the Durden Dickinson in Bremen program in Sommersemester 2024, where I took two German Studies equivalent classes and two economics classes at Uni Bremen. I was pleased to find that the economics department at Uni Bremen offered a wide variety of courses, both core and elective, in both English and German. Typically, the core courses were more so offered in German and elective courses more so in English, although there were exceptions. If you feel your German ability is sufficient to take a core economics class in German, I would highly recommend it as I believe it would make a significant and positive addition to the immersion aspect of the program at large.

Personally, my German skills were not quite sufficient to be able to do this, and I took Environmental Macroeconomics with Professor Klarl and International Public Finance with Professor Heinemann. Both professors were approachable, despite English being their second languages, and passionate about their respective subjects, especially Prof. Klarl, who has extensive publications in the field of environmental economics. I was particularly impressed, and even moved by his obvious passion for environmental protection and his emphasis on how environmentalism and economic viability are not mutually exclusive.

In contrast to typical American course structure, economics coursework at Uni Bremen are largely independent, with lectures meeting only on a weekly basis and graded homework being virtually nonexistent. That said, you will be solely responsible for mastering course concepts both in preparation for final papers (Hausarbeit) and for the general advancement of your education. Initially, that seemed to me to be slightly intimidating, but, after having experienced this system, I now consider it to be rather empowering. After all, absorption of personal responsibility in this manner is, in my opinion, what an immersive study abroad program like this one is all about. It serves to transform children into personally responsible adults! Just kidding, but only kind of. Really, these courses do serve you in becoming a stronger, more independent person. And that is truly reflected in the structure of these economics courses.

That said, you will not be without support, should you feel you need some. In my experience, Professors Klarl and Heinemann were happy to schedule meetings or speak after class about any questions or concerns you may have about course materials or Hausarbeit. Aside from that, you will always have the opportunity to connect with your peers, as many of them are also international students, likely with the same or similar concerns as you may have. So be sure to take advantage of that resource.

Lastly, a final note of appreciation for these courses that I might add would be the European perspective applied to the field of economics. I often found that, in the United States, the teaching of economics revolves around American economic history, United States (US) central banking and the Federal Reserve. Put simply, I learned economics in the US with “America as the center of the world”, if you will. My point is, I found it mind opening to view global trade, supply chains, taxation/public finance, etc., from the perspective of the European Union and with the US as a foreign entity.

Laboratory science courses at Uni Bremen

by Ellen Boldt ’26

As a Biology major, I pursued multiple laboratory science courses during my time abroad.  These were often my most challenging classes, due to the complexity of the vocabulary.  In the fall, I took a Vertebrate Biology course, which involved three-hour dissection labs every week, during which time I dissected a mouse, goldfish, and part of a preserved dogfish shark. The labs were supposed to teach us to focus on certain aspects of what we had learned in class.  We looked at organs in terms of an evolutionary continuum, except for the shark dissection, which focused on sensory exploration. 

Nature Walks in Bremen ©Ellen Boldt

In the fall semester (Vertebrates), there were about 40 students in the labs, overseen by one professor and about four teaching assistants.  This structure was a much larger class than I would have been used to in the US, and with less supervision and group work for the lab procedures than I expected as well.  The lab procedures were more broadly structured and less rigidly paced, as students were expected to follow a written procedure with minimal overview and help.  In my American lab experience, the final product of the lab on which we would be graded would be a written report with observations, or possibly showing our dissection work for an anatomy lab.  However, both my vertebrate class in the fall and my animal diversity class in the spring, which focused on invertebrates, required us to submit notated drawings and diagrams of the structures we were dissecting and observing, with minimal forehand guidance of what we were looking for: just a list of parts that we would need to label. 

These differences were challenging but provided a practical way for us to learn structures.  Making us try to find structures as we dissected, and then draw them as we found them, was a good way for us to show what we were learning, and to show that we had captured the context of the body parts we identified. 

In the spring semester (Animal Diversity), there was an even bigger class of at least sixty students in each lab group.  Rather than dissecting, we observed whole samples of arthropods and invertebrates preserved in alcohol.  This was easier in some ways than following a delicate dissection procedure, but labelling microscopic structures was its own challenge, as well as identifying the samples by species through use of a dichotomous key (in German!).  One assignment I struggled with particularly was when I tried to draw sections of bumblebee wings so I could label them.  On the other hand, I enjoyed making the drawings and occasionally received compliments on them, which helped to build my confidence.  While I was familiar enough with using dichotomous keys to be mostly effective, I draw the line at beetles.  The known beetle species comprise 25% of all known animal species—there are too many for an amateur to meaningfully differentiate with so blunt a tool as a dichotomous key! 

Drawing and labeling the sections of bumblebee wings. ©Ellen Boldt

It was hard when we did field work at an outdoor nature preserve, because I didn’t have my computer with me for looking up words; I could sometimes identify an animal by its English name without knowing what it was called in German. 

One of the last Biology projects for my year in Bremen was a trip with my Animal Diversity class to the Übersee (Oversea) Museum, which is a sort of natural history museum.  A group of about 30 of us went into a back room and got to handle some of the artifacts that had been collected from around the world, including ancient wasps that had been preserved in amber.  My group made dichotomous keys to identify specimens of squid and octopi. I was amazed to learn that Germans don’t have differentiated commonly used words for squid, octopus, and cuttlefish:  they were all called by the same name in German, “Tintenfisch”! 

Conducting the labs in German provided an extra layer of challenge, but I am glad I was able to familiarize myself with a new category of German vocabulary.  I communicated with my lab partners in German but did find myself looking up quite a few words in my German-English dictionary.  

Berlin Excursion: The state surveillance in the former German Democratic Republic (GDR)

by Alex Arnold ’27

Our trip to Berlin was packed with a mosaic of different experiences. We traveled through different periods of German history in an immersive way: from visits to museums, amazing conversations, to, not least, simply moving through the unique metropolitan atmosphere only to be found in Berlin.  And, naturally, to fit all of these experiences into just five days (well, really only four in Berlin, but more to this later), we had to use every moment to our advantage. In other words, we were busy! 

To describe all that we did on our trip in detail would, I think, be a challenge to read through. So, I hope to instead share about a select day’s worth of experiences that I found to be particularly special. On our second day, Friday, we delved extensively into the topic of the state surveillance in the former German Democratic Republic (GDR), the former authoritarian-socialist which existed in East Germany from 1949-1991. 

©Alex Arnold

We visited the former Stasi (Staats Sicherheit or “State Security”) headquarters which, today, has been converted into a museum detailing the role this powerful instrument played in monitoring and exerting control over East German citizens. We even had the very special opportunity to enter the archives where detailed files pertaining to East German citizens are kept. Ranging from the most mundane to highly private, enough information was collected by official and unofficial Stasi workers regarding suspected regime critics or dissidents during the GDR to span around 60 kilometers if the files were to be aligned side by side, as if placed on one single continuous shelf. The most interesting part of the day, however, was still to come. 

©Alex Arnold

After visiting the Stasi museum, we traveled to a former prison on the outskirts of East Berlin called Hohenschönhausen where detainees were held during the GDR. Likely some of very same people whose files we had just glimpsed in the archives. Today, the prison has similarly been converted into a museum, although that’s not to say that the drab, depressing interior of the cells have seen much improvement.

©Antonia Gabler

At Hohenschönhausen, we received a detailed guided tour from an older gentleman by the name of Friedemann Körner who described all elements of detention within the facility. What Herr Körner shared about the prison, however, came from personal experience. For three years during the GDR, he was detained as a prisoner in Hohenschönhausen. The tour was a mix of history lesson and biography. In between showing us different locations in the complex, Herr Körner sat us down from time to time and shared details about his life in East Germany, how he ended up in detention, his experiences in Hohenschönhausen, and his eventual release. 

©Antonia Gabler

Through the German curriculum at Dickinson, I had already learned much about the GDR and I was, thus, captivated by Herr Körner‘s first-hand account. Nothing had ever emphasized the reality and currency of what, to me, was history quite like listening to him talk about his lived experience. If the readers of this blog are interested in learning more about Friedemann Körner‘s story, a biographical account was written by Irene Köß and published under the Titel “Sänger hinter Gittern” (Singer behind bars), a reference to Herr Körner’s career as a professional vocalist. As we departed Hohenschönhausen for our alumni meet-and-greet, I was deep in thought, considering all that we had learned and seen that day. Although the day wasn’t filled with happy stories, I felt thankful and reassured: I knew I had made the right decision to learn German and study abroad,  allowing me to connect with people and places in a way that would have been impossible through translations and textbooks.

Berlin Excursion: favorite moments

by Kate Elmes ’27 and Haley Henderson ’27

Meeting B.K. Tragelehn and his wife at their apartment in Berlin. ©Alex Arnold

The whole trip was so much fun but my favorite part by far was the afternoon chat our group had with B.K. Tragelehn. He was so cool to speak with and such an interesting person. It was also great getting the chance to meet/catch up with alumni of the program! We had tons of events planned for us, but still had free time built into the schedule; I used mine to get some souvenirs of the city and see a few museums. by Kate Elmes ’27

Our annual Alumni-Event at the Dachkammer in Berlin. ©Antonia Gabler

I absolutely loved our group excursion to Berlin. I had a wonderful time getting to immerse myself into the city with everyone. I was delighted to get the chance to see alumni that had previously done the Dickinson in Germany program. My favorite activity was most definitely Monsterkabinett! The music and animatronics were so uniquely Berlin, I was really glad to have gotten to experience it. Learning about the history of Berlin was also really important to me, so getting to visit a new museum every day didn’t disappoint! I’d love to revisit the city, and I’m very excited for future excursions within the program! by Haley Henderson ’27

No pictures were allowed inside the facilities, but here is a picture of some of the postcards we bought afterwards.