Not Helmut Lotti!

Wo kommen sie her? Sie sprechen genau so wie Helmut Lotti! Thus spoke the cleaning lady at the Akademie when I introduced myself this monday. One thing is clear: I really need that speaking course German for which I have just registered. This is definitely not a complimentary comparison. I can, however, be proud that I have not spoken one word of english since I got here, the only exception being that I needed to explain my english keyboard before my laptop could be logged on to the project's catalogue. It turns out control is not control on a German keyboard. It also turns out y and z are on different places. Very confusing.
I have now had two working days at the Akademie. Or, to be fair, I had one getting myself installed-day and one proper working day. The slavery-project occupies the upper floor of the Academy-building and apart from me there is Johannes Deissler, who runs the day-to-day business of the project, and a mysterious Mitarbeiter whom I have not had the pleasure of meeting with yet, but whose main business, as far as I understand it, is to catalogue the thousands of books and articles scattered through the three rooms belonging to the project. One of these rooms is mine: I sit in the middle of the category 'Roman slavery'. As Johannes works from 6 am (!) to 2 pm, and as I am not a morning bird, half of my working day it is just me and the gladiators. Tomorrow I will be shown the university library. This will definitely be useful as my dissertation is not exactly 100 % slavery.
My personal life here in Mainz is also slowly taking shape. As I live in a very busy area opposite the railwaystation I despaired of finding a green patch to run, but after having risked my life crossing the motorway (my German is good enough to understand the insults several motorists threw at me while I did so, but I won't repeat them), I found a 2 k stretch of what appears to be Roman defensive banks turned into a Romantic patch of greenery, and on returning I also found a somewhat less hazardous route to my house. My house, by the way, is not in the best of neighboorhoods, so I won't go running after dark.