How to "Fix" a Hangover

This being the very first day of the New Year 2017, it is appropriate in my state -- and that of I'm sure many jillions of others out there -- to write about how to fix a hangover. I won't tell you how to cure a hangover, because I think the only cure is time.

I read once the best way to not get a hangover is to not drink alcohol. Well, there you have it. Blog post is done. 

Ha ha -- not! Drinking alcohol can be quite fun! But if you wanna play, you gotta pay, unless you take some preventive steps, like eating a good meal before you drink, sipping lots of water in between alcohol gulpings, and not drinking alcoholic drinks to excess. 

If you didn't follow all or any of those clever imbibing guidelines, you may have a hangover. Mine isn't so bad today, because I stuck to beer with intermittent sips of my Bischofsberger Williams brandy, a very special Christmas gift from some very special people. I had a large meal before I began drinking -- Greek food -- and at the end I drank 2.5 shots of ouzo, but that was just to get the party started. If my hangover, headache, nausea, and general unrest were worse, I couldn't sit up to write this.

So, how to fix a hangover?

1. Drink water when you wake up from your passed out state. Try to chew on a couple of children's aspirin before going back to sleep. More sleep is optional but always a good idea when you're ill.

2. Eat a pretzel or something salty and bread-like to get your stomach in line. Tacos are also a great hangover food. Fortunately, I live in Germany, and pretzels are plentiful. Tacos not so much, I'm sad to report. 

3. Drink a small glass of Coke or 7UP. This will help your tummy as well. Belch. Ah. 

4. Try to go back to sleep, but if you can't, I recommend taking a shower. This will help your body "rinse off" some of the alcohol that is in your skin. I find that a dunk in a cold pool or a hot shower makes the head feel better. 

5. Take a walk outside in fresh air, if you can. This gets the fix working more quickly than anything else. 

6. Hug someone you love. Hugs cure everything. If you're an adult, you can do more than hug. 

That's it! 

Happy New Year and Best Wishes for 2017. 

How to Stay Sane in Germany

I'm not saying I'm sane. In fact, my (German) boyfriend says it's too late for me.

It's true: the outlook isn't very good some days. I can go wacko. The gray skies can get to a person, but that's not it so much. People keep to themselves; there aren't friendly faces in most places you go. Customer service doesn't include a smile, and at work, formality demands that we use each other's last name when speaking, even if we've known each other for a long time. My closest friends tell me how best to live my life, though I'm pretty sure I've been doing okay for almost 50 years. Saddest of all, I honestly can't remember the last time I had fun. 



Instead of losing it, there are ways to keep your sanity in Deutschland, or at least feel momentarily better and not so persecuted. I've made a list below.

• Silently give them the bird. If someone pisses you off, acts superior or bosses you around, just flip them the bird secretly, hiding it in your non-dominant hand, or when you are in your car driving away from their house. I do it all the time. Someone is rude to you at the grocery store? Curse them under your breath behind the wheel, because if you say something directly to them, they could take you to court. Make sure you're using the F word. This helps somehow. Speaking the F and K consonant sounds expel air from your lungs and help to relieve tension.
• Stay in touch with your family and friends back home, or wherever they are. Get a calling plan that costs you very few euros per month to make long distance calls. Use Skype. The hard part is that there is an 8-hour time difference between most of my family and friends and me, so I have to wait until they're awake to call or catch them late at night. Write to them on Facebook. Send e-mails and postcards. Write letters. Yes, it's mostly one-sided, but as a German friend told me once: they're not the ones that moved to Germany.
• Go back home! Or go somewhere. Travel, get out of Germany. This is mandatory. You don't have to stay at home. Europe gives you many travel options, with beautiful places close by.
• Find other Americans. There are expat groups in many cities, and they are probably going through some of the same things you're experiencing. One of my best friends here -- who recently moved back to the U.S. -- was a source of therapy and sanity in times of crisis. We worked together for about 15 months, and we went out for cocktails/beers on Friday afternoons once a month at least. That's when we could compare notes. We even promised we would write a book about living among the Germans. 
• Wait for your friends and family from America to come visit you. They will. This can be difficult, because when you're dying to flee, they have planned a trip to Germany. It's okay... hold out a little bit longer. 
• Bake. Or cook. Paint or write. I like to bake cookies and muffins on weekends and bring them to work with me on Monday. Some Germans don't like American-style sweets, because they say there is too much sugar. Ha ha! Add an extra half cup! Or just bake them with your normal American recipe. That'll show 'em! I have a co-worker who leaves the baked goods I make for her out overnight, as if letting them ripen or cure. No one said German behavior was easy to comprehend.
• Exercise. It is vital to your psychiatric survival. You have to get out there and walk in the woods for forest therapy or just go jogging or walking through your neighborhood. Get some of those ridiculous German alpine walking sticks (never thought I would, but I did) and use more muscles walking up a hill. Swim. Ride a bike. Have sex. Do yoga. 
• Be like a German and clean. Stay busy. Clean, clean, clean something. But don't ask a German if you're doing it right. You won't.
• Drink alcohol. Yes, it works. There are so many good beers and wines in Germany, it's almost a daily requirement! Get a cheapo 3-euro bottle of Spätburgunder and drink the whole thing in an hour. Don't worry if a German person tells you you're drunk. Refer back to the first tip and use it on them -- sofort.
• Find someone to talk to that has experience from abroad. I have several friends who have spent time in the USA, and they get me. I have another friend who grew up in Tenerife, though she is German. She is the most American non-American I know and wonderful to spend time with. Anyone who has left Germany for awhile will not act so much like a strictly-German German.
• Go to Bavaria. It seems like Bavarians are the friendliest Germans in Germany. I've met several who are simply more open and happy. And of course, they will toast you at Oktoberfest.
• Try to have fun. I don't know how you'll pull it off, but find fun people. Play a game. Drink excessively. Act stupid. Laugh. SMILE. 
• Be yourself. Don't try to change to be like a German, because that is very difficult and you might become hard and practical. I am the furthest thing from practical, or logical for that matter. I don't want to be hard-hearted. I want to be happy and lighthearted, even though I am viewed as kindisch in the eyes of my sternest German critics. F 'em.
• Get a grip. Be grateful for what you have and the experiences you are going through. Many people would die to be in your shoes. And some do. Don't act so spoiled, and learn to appreciate, for life in Germany is good. There are butchers with liverwurst right in your neighborhood and bakeries with Mohnschnecken at the grocery store. One cannot forget pretzels. And for God's sake, they're letting you drive on the Autobahn! That alone should be reason to stay sane, or go crazy in a different way...

If none of these tips work, try the first one again, repeatedly. Sometimes the small steps are the best, and they won't cost you a thing.


Wörterbuch/Dictionary

kindisch - childish, immature

Mohnschnecke - a cinnamon-roll-type pastry with poppy seeds

sofort - immediately

German Love

This blog is supposed to be mostly about food, love and love of food. In another country. Therefore, I could write a little about love for a change. 

Recently, I was having a relationship issue. Again. And when it gets bad enough, a person should ask for help. 

My two older sisters were the first I called. When I was a preteen, they were the most knowledgeable people on the planet when it came to the subject of boys. My little sister and I shared an adjacent bedroom, and sometimes I happened to hear what they talked about, eavesdropping without getting caught. Julie and Karen would chat late at night about boys and kissing and other things they did with those boys (I will abstain from going any further or talking about locations on a baseball field). 

Wow! It was so exciting. They talked in secret for what seemed like hours. Sometimes they would let me come in and listen, if I gave them back rubs -- which turned out to be a bad idea when I explained to my mother once what I had heard. Oh, my mouth: always getting me in trouble. 

Nevertheless, to this day, my two older sisters are the ones I turn to most when it comes to pondering life, and love. 

It helps when speaking to them, because they have very different outlooks, and I can get a more well-rounded opinion when combining it with my own. Also, they calm me down and tame my irrational thoughts.

My oldest sister is practical and loyal. She has been married to the same man for over 25 years, and they have gone through much together -- kids, stepchildren, financial crises, dogs, ex-wives, ex-boyfriends, etc. She loves her husband without question, though there have been challenges. My sister is intellectually superior, but he's no dummy, and he loves her without fail. She also remains solid and unwavering in her love and rarely gets perturbed by the things he does. Oh, the patience!

Sister # 2 is wilder at heart. She has had lots of boyfriends, but she, too, is practical when it comes to love, in a different way. She is somewhat of a hot tamale, and men have been a fixture in her life that she cannot do without, a convenience that she has grown accustomed to. She has been alone 5% of her adult life; the other 95% she has spent living with a male. When a man is in a relationship with her, it's usually her way or the highway (she is also German-blooded and a lot of her German traits come through on a daily basis), and she gets what she wants. For the most part, she has played at love like a game, and it is a game she wins.

Then there's me. They call me the crazy one, the adventurer. I'm not practical or sensible when it comes to most things -- especially men-- but truly, all I desire is happiness every day. I'm a romantic, and I love love. And I want the whole thing -- a strong, romantic fellow who loves me, body and soul, but especially for what's inside of me, and the person I am. 

Even more, I want what our parents had -- a loving, lifelong relationship. Sadly, our father died too soon and couldn't give our mom his whole life. Regretfully for me, I haven't found a lifer either; I don't know if I will ever find a man with whom I can be completely happy. 

But who can?

When I referred to my boyfriend as another name for the male appendage that hangs between his legs, the first sister told me, "You just haven't found the right one yet." 

Right one? Is there a right one? Did she find the right one? I know she loves her husband and she made the decision to marry him a long time ago, but is he really the right one for her? 

I had to get a second opinion, so I called my other sister and told her the whole story. She laughed. "You have to work at it," she said. "No one is perfect. It takes work."

That is true, and boy have we worked! However, sometimes it seems like the labor pains of this relationship are coming harder and stronger, as some of the same problems continue to arise. Aren't we learning? And isn't that the point of life and love -- learning, changing, growing, improving? 

One should consider the circumstances. I'm in Germany (HALLO). I'm in a relationship with a staunch German -- a guy so Deutsch he makes other Germans appear relaxed. 

And Germans are unlike anyone else on earth, as you can determine for yourself by reading my blog. Life is not easy for an American trying to live with and love a German. And the German's life is assuredly not any easier when he is faced with the reckless and lighthearted American that he has found.

Several months ago, my wise sister reminded me that a relationship must mature beyond the initial "honeymoon period," where things go from wonderful to run-of-the-mill and not so nice. Wouldn't it be smart to never let a relationship get past that stage? But of course, that is running away, and that IS childish. I'm sure some people give that a try, and I have been tempted, but that is exactly when German loyalty steps in and he prevents me from escaping. And then my man surprises me with the amount of things he's willing to go through for me. I know he loves me, because of the things he does. And to be loved like that, well, it's worth it, and there is no doubt left. 

Besides, he's an excellent cook, and I love him more when we're eating than almost -- ALMOST -- any other time (I won't go further, because then we'll be back on the baseball field).

Sick in Germany

I've got a virus, caught from a friend, a child at school, or someone out there in the world. Maybe I was wandering in the rain for too long during my weekend hike; perhaps the change in weather brought my cold. Nevertheless, I've got it, and along with it a cough, headache, and other symptoms that have come and gone in the last three days.

My first day sick -- Monday morning -- I left my job before it began, immediately e-mailing in my "Krankmeldung," or notice that I am sick. This is a requirement. For my boss and Oberboss, the school secretary, and any co-worker who might give a damn, I listed my symptoms -- probably not necessary for German superiors or co-workers -- but something I feel I must do to verify an actual illness. 

Because you see, when I am sick, I feel guilty. I feel like I'm lying, and I have to prove it is true, even just to myself. This comes from years of working in the U.S. and calling in sick occasionally, maybe when I wasn't always very unhealthy -- especially in my younger years. 

Could the ambivalent feeling I get when I'm sick here in Germany come from calling in too many times when I really wasn't sick? Yes, maybe one or two of those times I was hungover, or maybe I just didn't feel like going to work. We all know that taking a non-sick sick day is sometimes quite necessary.

For some reason, we Americans aren't allowed to be sick. When we are, our co-workers could be angry at us, because they might have to do our job. Our absence is felt dearly when we are not there, and therefore more guilt. If you have a cold, you can tough it out! It doesn't matter if you go into work feeling like crap or spreading the virus, because by God you've got to get your job done. In that case, the guilt might come from a good work ethic, or perhaps it is simply a sign of conscientiousness and care for your co-workers.

Naja, in Germany when you show any sign of being sick, your friends and colleagues wish you "eine gute Besserung," and they seem to sincerely care about your health and well-being. I've never experienced that before, from any co-workers, friends or bosses back home. 

I am really sick this time, and on Tuesday, I went to see the doctor. An employer requires that you get a Krankbescheinigung, or literally "sickness certificate," after missing work three days. I went on the second day, which is kind of silly, because a doctor can't do anything for a virus or a cold, except tell you to stay home and rest. And sign your Krankbescheinigung.

A blank Krankbescheinigung

After listening to my complaints, taking my temperature, looking in my throat, and having me lift up my shirt so he could listen to my lungs, der Arzt returned to his desk. Obviously, I was chipper and not miserable in his presence, so I couldn't have been too sick. He acknowledged I was there mostly for the Krankbescheinigung, after we discussed the fact that he really couldn't treat me with antibiotics or other medicines, except for maybe some cough syrup. 

The big question then arose: the doc asked how long I wished to stay out of work. 

My American mind thought quietly, Do you deserve to have any time away from work? You aren't THAT sick.

Placing the burden in his hands, I asked him what he thought. "Was denken Sie?" I asked quite innocently. After all, he is the professional. How many days did he think it would take me to be cured from this horrible illness?

The suspense didn't hang in the air long. It was only milliseconds before he suggested that I stay home through Friday (five days total), and that I would be cured before the week-end and could return to society on Saturday.

Oh, it seemed so extreme. Did I really need to take the whole week off of work? Of course, I didn't fight him in the least. There is no point in disrespecting a fine physician, and a German one at that. 

He did suggest, however, that if I felt better, I could always go into work Thursday.

Tomorrow is Thursday. Will I go in? 

I won't know until the morning. If my cough is severe, and my head still hurts, I will stay home, find more things to watch on the television (I'm sick of all my DVDs and German shows take a lot of concentration), soak up some more sunshine (if there is any), try to read (I've finished my current Krimi novel), eat my homemade chicken soup (best cure ever), and sleep some more (a great time spender). 

Truly, it's getting kind of boring being sick this long, and obviously, I'm not used to it, or I would have stocked the house with DVDs and English Bücher. It's a bit hard to take, getting a week off of work for a silly little cold. However, I'm getting a little writing done, and I'm very prepared for next week at work. When I suggested I go back to work, both a co-worker and another friend told me, "Oh no! You'll have a Ruckschlag! It's better to stay home!" 

In America, that's crazy talk, but here in Germany, a relapse is very likely. I'd better stay home and do what the doctor says.

There are some blueberries and bananas there; I could bake muffins. I have leftover M&Ms and walnuts for cookies. I could even paint, if I had enough energy. I could go for a walk in the woods, but again, that requires energy. Do I have any? I haven't done anything for three days straight except move from the couch to the kitchen to the bathroom to the balcony to the bed. 

I'd better just do nothing, read what I can, and sleep a lot, catching up on couch time. After all -- though I ask my self 50 times a day if it's true -- I'm sick. 

Wörterbuch / Dictionary:

der Arzt - the doctor

Bücher - books

Eine gute Besserung! - Get well soon! (lit. "a good recovery")

Krankbescheinigung - certificate of illness

Krankmeldung - notice of being sick

Krimi - crime story

Naja - Well

Ruckschlag - relapse

Was denken Sie? - What do you think? (polite form)

Where Are the Chocolate Chips?

Germans are people, but they're different. Just as often as I observe similarities between Germans and myself -- one clear example is we're all members of the human race -- I am noticing more and more differences. Such disparities are natural among varying cultures, but I suppose I just automatically assumed that Germans -- forefathers to many of us Americans, myself included -- would be more... like me.

Does this look like a normal chocolate chip cookie to you? 

In particular and quite shockingly, Germans don't have the same fondness for chocolate chips as that exhibited in the USA. 

We Americans adore chocolate chip cookies, and I would venture to say it is the Number One cookie in the land.

Our mother made chocolate chip cookies so often and so well that she had to hide them around the house -- in the freezer, in the closet, and under her bed -- so we and our friends wouldn't gobble them all up in a day. My sisters and I pride ourselves on our own individual versions of this cookie, having entered competitions between us (much to our brother's delight, because he is the taste-tester). Oatmeal chocolate chip cookies are a tiny bite of heaven. I'd bake them more... if I could.

Appallingly, chocolate chips are not available in the baking supplies section of German grocery stores. Horror!

Don't get me wrong -- it is obvious that Germans very much appreciate chocolate. They are masters at making and using fine chocolate themselves. There are chocolate drinks, chocolate bars, chocolate decorations, chocolate sprinkles, chocolate letters, chocolate bits, chocolate candies, many kinds of chocolate ice creams, and chocolate frogs. That list is endless, but it doesn't include little hardened droplets of semi-sweet chocolate in a bag.

Because of this, I came up with the ingenious idea a few months ago of importing chocolate chips to Germany. Why not? They obviously need them badly here! Has no one ever thought of this before? What a great way to strike it rich, by supplying chocolate chip goodness to the poor people of Germany who suffer daily without this commodity.

Getting a second opinion from my landlady, who is also a Konditorin / master cake baker, my hopes for fame, fortune, and readily-available chocolate chips were dashed sofort. When I told her my idea, she simply shook her head and said "nein." 

You see, Germans don't bake with chocolate chips, so there is no point in bringing them over. One would have to have a specialty item, like chocolate chip cookies, in order to need bagfuls, and they just don't make chocolate chip anything here, including cookies. Germans have so many other favorite delicious chocolate cakes, tortes, cookies and desserts that chocolate chips are not a necessity. They simply melt down Zartbitter Schokolade or blend some Kakao into their baking. It is probably an insult to Germans -- who have at least 1,000 years of culture -- to suggest they need something American to improve their wonderful chocolate creations. 

Okay, if you're desperate, you can find something to put in your cookies. One German recipe I found for Schokoladenkekse called for adding grob gehackte Zartbitter-Schokolade oder Schokotropfen. 

Hacked-off pieces of a chocolate bar and chocolate "drops" just aren't the same and don't cut the Senf. As we cooks and bakers know, the appearance of our artistic creations is just as important as the taste. 

So then, how does one secure chocolate chips in Germany? The military bases are closing up one by one, and that would have been a good option, if one is in the military (I am not). 

Once my very kind oldest sister sent me a big box full of chocolate and butterscotch chips -- with much more of the former -- so I could bake before Christmastime. It cost her more to send the box than the morsels were worth. My very kind little sister sent me a HUGE bag of chocolate chips as repayment sending her Lindt Williams bars (try them and you'll know why she paid such a price). 

As you might imagine, chocolate chips are not light, and shipping overseas is teuer. 

Since then I've learned to import as many bags of chocolate chips that will fit in my suitcase, but my supplies run out as soon as I make a couple batches and share them with friends and unawares. Besides, if I'm hauling sets of horseshoes (another frighteningly absent item and the subject of my next blog post), I can't add too much extra weight. 

After reading all this, if you're interested in entering into the import/export business, I'd still like to work on getting real chocolate chips to Germany. At least one person over here will be buying them. 

Wörterbuch / Dictionary

grob gehackte Zartbitter-Schokolade oder Schokotropfen - coarsely chopped dark chocolate or chocolate chips

Kakao - cocoa

Konditorin  - cake maker

nein - no

Schokoladenkekse  - chocolate (chip) cookies 

Senf - mustard

sofort - immediately

teuer - expensive

Zartbitter Schokolade - dark chocolate

Cemeteries in Germany

Cemeteries are a quiet place to respectfully explore a piece of the world that has passed before our time. Names, dates, weathered marble and old sculptures are all part of the beauty of a cemetery. For me, walking through a cemetery is a cultural experience, because death is the required end stage of life, no matter what country you are in.

One-way street. 

The German word for cemetery is Friedhof, or literally, "peaceful courtyard." There are cemeteries in most towns and cities in Germany, and they have been situated in very lovely locations -- on hills overlooking river valleys, next to old churches, on the outskirts of cities. Most I've seen are filled with old trees and beautiful headstones, and lined by a short, secure fence or rock wall. 

I was curious about death, German cemeteries and how German people are buried and remembered after they die. Some of life's events that seem so grandiose and dramatic back home -- such as having babies, getting married, getting old, and dying -- seem to be no big deal here and are handled with efficiency and grace.

Several months ago, my German friend told me that those that have passed are buried in cemeteries, if it is the family's wish and they can afford to do so. How much does a burial cost? When I mentioned 2,000 euros, there was scoffing. Funerals, coffins, burial plots and headstones are very expensive: more like 8,000 or 9,000. However, like in the USA, there are insurance and/or payment plans for such events.  

Most interesting to me is that in a German cemetery, the dead may be dug up after 25 years' time, if the family (or the previously-living person) has not secured a plot for longer. 

Like me, you might find this unbelievable, especially in light of the tremendous haunting brought about by greedy and careless developers building houses on top of old Indian burial grounds in "Poltergeist" and other such movies and depictions. If you dig up a body, your young daughter may be sucked into the television. Not so in Germany.

Whether irreverent to the dead or not, disposing of someone's body after such a short period of time seems a trifle callous. Is there a lack of space for cemeteries and dead bodies in Germany? Won't the bodies disintegrate with time, making more room eventually? Perhaps this body disposal is just another facet of German efficiency. I'm probably wrong in thinking that Germany is the only country to do this with unused bodies. 

What about "Rest in Peace"? Is the final resting place not sacred in Germany? I suppose not.

And get this: there is little likelihood of a problem with haunting by the wounded spirits of unearthed bodies and displaced souls in Germany, because all the Germans I know don't believe in ghosts. That solves that problem. 

Another difference I noticed between our cemeteries and German cemeteries is that, like most outdoor things -- parks, yards, playgrounds here -- the graves are also very well-landscaped and maintained. Live plants and flowers adorn most of the graves, and they are well cared-for, planted neatly in rows or sections. Watering cans are secured nearby with padlocks to ensure they are there for the family members to douse the graves. 

Friedhof with watering cans locked up safely

In America, the local government or cemetery manager is responsible for mowing the grass around headstones. In dry areas, a sprinkler system will keep things green. You will see live and plastic flowers, plants, flags, teddy bears, and other mementos placed on grave sites, but landscaped graves with good soil and orderly planting of perennials? No.

German cemeteries are systematic, and headstones are placed in a straight line. Plots are stepped, and there is no clutter. There are also no fanciful phrases or epitaphs adorning headstones -- just names, dates of birth and death, and perhaps mention of a person's occupation in life or a soldier's rank and dates of service. 

There are so many beautiful places in Germany, including the town I currently live in. I had originally intended on dying here and being buried with the sound of the Bach that chatters outside my door sounding forever in my deaf, lifeless ears. 

I don't really care what happens to my body after 25 years or even three days, however, I want the option of having a "messy" grave with wildflowers and stones strewn across -- something a bit like the life I led. Lord knows I don't expect someone in my family or one of my German friends to secure a lock and chain for the watering can that will keep the manicured plants on my grave moist. Why go to all that trouble for me? I don't deserve it. 

Finally, it is obvious that if I want to come back and haunt from the afterlife, I'm going to have to find a new country in which to do so.

Driving in Germany

In August I enjoyed a month-long vacation in the U.S. -- mostly in Silverton, Colorado, which is at 9,318 feet in the San Juan Mountains. Only one street there is paved -- the main one or Greene Street, and the speed limit throughout town is one of two: 15 or 25 mph. Texans, tourists, and Texan tourists abound. Pedestrians are everywhere, so you have to drive slow. There is no little green man or red man to stop you from crossing the street in front of oncoming traffic. Historic trains ramble into town every day -- you have to get out of the way of those of course, but they whistle loudly to warn you to stay off the tracks. People disembark and explore the small burg, and life goes at an easy pace -- there is no need to rush to get from one end of town to another. In fact, you might as well walk, because there's not much room on Greene Street to park your rental car, SUV, Jeep, or all-terrain vehicle.

Fast forward to Germany, the Autobahn, fast cars, narrow streets, and urgency. Tension? Yes. Major driving stress? Oh yeah.

On the bright side, I just moved to a new small town of 2,000 up in the Odenwald, an inviting swathe of woods and quaint villages that winds in and out of three German states.

Driving the long curvy roads to get home, I relax all the way up. It's like a mini-racecourse, really, where my poor Opel struggles for dominance on the hills. It loses to the Beamers and the Benzes, but that's okay. Those roads weren't meant for driving too quickly. Deer could jump out, or maybe a Wildschwein. Perhaps a friendly cow. There are signs that warn of falling rocks and ice. There are even signs that show speed limits for tanks and jeeps. (Hmmmm... don't know what to make of that. Always prepared, the Germans!)

My driving route to work takes me downhill and eventually onto the Autobahn. Currently, however, the closest on-ramp is under construction. The off-ramp has also been under construction, since before I went on vacation. Therefore, I have to exit early to find my way home in the evening, and drive a few more kilometers before I get to the Autobahn in the morning. I go through several traffic lights, around streetcar stops, and through a few roundabouts. I leave early, before the sun comes up, and if it happens to be raining, the journey becomes more treacherous and stressful.

What makes it worse is when a harried driver behind me goes faster than the speed limit. Some people here drive as if they've got a woman in the car who is about to deliver a baby if she doesn't get to the hospital in time, or they're bleeding to death, or some other emergency. Durchfall? 

They can't all be late for work, because this is Germany, and they are a punctual people. However, the ass-grinding, headlight-glaring, inconsiderate-driver-behind-me thing happens often, and I do not drive like an old woman... yet. So what is the rush? 

There are ways of dealing with the stress of driving in Germany. 

When it's dark out, I adjust my rear view mirror so I can't see "him" anymore (I always assume it's a man) and try to remain calm. If only I were a cop with a radar detector permanently installed in my backside! Otherwise, I could pull over, or hope that the driver passes me. No, they prefer to remain right behind me and try to push me down the hill. 

Turn up the music and ignore the BMW behind you. Look at the scenery. Take deep breaths. Think of the delicious glass of wine you will enjoy when you get home inside your quiet home, your car safely parked and your engine turned off.

Or remember the fact that it's much worse in Italy. 

Ah, the glamour and allure of those 15-mph dirt roads... 

German Pillows

Ach, the German pillow. Das Kopfkissen.  

Most are square to begin with, these German pillows, measuring 80 x 80 centimeters (about 31 x 31 inches).

In America, a square pillow of that size is designed for a sleepy cat or a small dog. Is a person supposed to balance their whole upper body on one of these wedges? (See diagram below.)

How exactly do German pillows work? That is the question. 

Sure, they look good on your bed, especially when the linens you buy include a pillow case for an 80-by-80. You are forced to have such a pillow, or you're wasting good flannel. But is the German pillow functional? I say no. 

My friend Roxann came to visit the first year I lived here. She couldn't sleep all night on my bed, because of the German pillow. It was too soft, it was too flat, it gave her no support. She chose to sleep on the hard, uncomfortable couch the next night just to avoid wrangling with the German pillow. I felt bad about that, but she was adamant. 

Does this look comfortable to you? 

After her visit, I threw the German pillow away. 

I understood Roxann's complaints, because I hadn't used it much myself before she had arrived. Yes, it was almost brand new, this weak, squishy thing full of feathers that didn't hold its shape, but it (like some people) was high-maintenance. All night long, I had to squish it and squeeze it, form it and fold it. My head popped off of it several times. It unfolded itself and became a limp, flat, useless SQUARE head support. It didn't last longer than one night on my bed, except I could use it for guests, who maybe had a clue as to how it might work. After all, weren't these square pillows the standard?

No, my head needed support, so after one night with the awful German pillow, I bought a few inexpensive (3-euro-each) throw pillows to support my bean. These worked wonderfully. 

And they were made in Poland.

Why couldn't I find a smaller, firmer, rectangular pillow to hold my head up? Didn't Germans make such a pillow? I searched and searched. 

Ah, then I discovered this thing called IKEA: the horrifically huge home marketplace, where you can buy almost anything, including crackers, hot dogs... and pillows.  

I picked out a rectangular pillow that seemed firm. It was in the "side sleeper" pillow section. 

In America, we didn't have a side sleeper, back sleeper, or a stomach sleeper pillow section. We just had pillows: soft, medium, or firm; foam or feather. 

Examining the IKEA pillow, I thought years of scientific study must have gone into its engineering. Hmmm. 

It still had to go through my examination. Right there in the IKEA, I tested the pillow by putting my head upon it more than once, standing upright and leaning onto one of the display racks, pillow under my head. (I couldn't lay down on the floor!) I squeezed it. I bunched it. It was almost unbunchable, and that was a good thing. I put it back, and I squeezed and bunched other pillows. My new pillow had to be just right. Finally, I returned to my first choice, taking the plunge, heaving a sigh, and putting it into my basket. I even found a pillowcase that would fit the little gem. 

When I got home, I was excited for the night to come, so I could sleep on a pillow that might be something like the pillows back home. My throw pillow days were surely at an end, and I could join the rest of the German population in using a regular pillow. Sure, this one was a bit narrower from the top edge to the bottom edge, but it had to be good, because it was rectangular. 

Sadly, the pillow and I didn't mesh -- it gave in to my heavy head and my neck still had to do lots of work. The pillow couldn't hold up its end of the bargain. I pushed and pulled, doubled and dodged. I just couldn't get comfortable. The pillow might work for decoration, but not for the serious business of holding my skull in the proper position while I slept. 

I gave up. I continued sleeping with my throw pillows. They became some of my best friends. 

Then I went back home to the USA the next summer to clean out my storage unit. Buried beneath books and rugs, I found my two favorite pillows. I clutched them to my chest, almost sobbing with happiness. My pillows! Oh, the nights we had spent happily together. I had hit the jackpot, and the pillows were perhaps the most welcome of all my former treasures. Then I found my favorite pillowcases -- two flannel, and another handed down from my grandma. Hurriedly, as if grabbing a suitcase full of cash, I crammed the pillows and cases into the mini-van I was driving, making sure they were safe and secure behind the middle seat. I decided right then I would have to bring all of them back to Germany, no matter how much it cost. On the drive across America, I could rely on those trusty pillows to keep me comfy, in case I had to sleep in the van. (And one night, I did.)

Just to make sure my pillows were flying across the Atlantic, I bought a giant suitcase and put them in first thing, under my clothes. It was worth paying the $100 for an extra bag.

God bless America, and the American pillow

Now those two pillows rest on my bed. I love them. I couldn't live without them. 

Yes, I have giant German square pillows -- two brand new ones because I have a new apartment and it has to be outfitted properly -- but I can't use them for me. Maybe my next set of guests can try them out. Good luck! They look good, but they don't work. 

Even a German will tell you they have to quetschen das Kopfkissen. 

Go to it, Germans. Enjoy your scrunching. Meanwhile, I will sleep like a baby. 


Wörterbuch / Dictionary

das Kissen - the pillow (any)
Kopfkissen - the bed pillow (lit. "head pillow")
quetschen - to squash

Some Germans

I'm just a long-term tourist in Germany, though I've worked and lived here for over two years; what I am is an American girl blessed enough to enjoy my lifelong dream and learn the language of my forefathers while I'm at it. 

While here, and being the observant American, I notice many differences between "us" (people from the USA) and "them" (Germans). As always, I'd like to share my observations with you. 

Again, please note that what is written below are only my thoughts about this country. Because these insights are so specific to what I've experienced, my statements certainly don't encompass all Germans. Some things may also apply to other Europeans, like the Swiss, who are also known to be "particular." 

Some things just have to be written about, because I have to get them out, and because I am the poor soul lucky and unfortunate enough to know some of the most exemplary and stereotypical Germans one could ever meet. Among those people and others I've observed in my daily life in Deutschland, there are a lot of common traits. I've listed some here.

Germans are difficult to befriend. There is a saying that Germans are like coconuts, hard on the outside and -- after you crack their tough exterior -- sweet on the inside. Initially, most Germans I have met are not as friendly as "we" are, but there are exceptions to that rule. I have some very dear friends who have been kind from the get-go. My best friend here is the most helpful and generous person I've met! My former roommate Katharina is the smiliest person I've met in Germany -- she bubbles over. I suppose that if you meet a German that doesn't warm to you, they, like anyone else, are not destined to be your friend.

Germans are practical -- praktisch. The German I live with mixes the dishwashing liquid with water using a 1:4 ratio because the soap is "too strong" and comes out thicker than he'd like. It dribbles down a plate in a glob, and he hates that. He's also saving money. We all know that dishwashing liquid is a very expensive commodity, right? So what do I do when I need dishwashing liquid? I give many extra squirts to get the soap I'm entitled to, or I squeeze the bottle into a dirty pan or bowl until suds begin to form. 

Another note: when it comes to many things Germans do, including riding a bicycle or falling in love, they must be practical. Carelessness and lightheartedness do not belong; there is a logical viewpoint for every action undertaken by a German. Being leichtsinning (reckless) myself, I don't care much for practical. I tend to combat the ridiculous logic whenever I can.

Outside the front door of our Wohnung are three (count 'em - 3) doormats. These three doormats are not enough, however. A towel is also required for the wiping of the feet and the absorption of mud and water. Additionally, if you have wet shoes, they must remain outside, withstanding the weather until the leather peels and the rubber cracks. Does it look unsightly having a mismatched, old, crinkled-up towel topping your plain, practical doormats? Might a pile of dried-up shoes turn guests away? Yes, but what is more important -- aesthetics, or a shockingly-clean fake wood (Parkett) floor? There will be NO chaos in a German home, no sir.

Note: I do NOT do the decorating

Germans are direct. Before I even came over to Germany, my German Freundin Karin articulated how Germans can be alarmingly direct. She is not shy about stating loudly her feelings when someone she sees is not attractive, or a Germanfest is not held according to her standards. My stepfather, who grew up in the U.S. but is of German ancestry, is also too direct for my tastes. Did I ask for their opinions? No, but Germans will tell you anyway. Sometimes it is good, and sometimes it is not. Just beware that Germans don't beat around the bush like we do. 

Germans are intelligent. In addition to being practical, most every German I've met is smart. Most seem extensively knowledgeable about many different things. There are endless documentaries on the television every day about everything and everywhere you can imagine. These documentaries bring the world to Germany. Further, news agencies don't just show what's happening in this country; they show the whole planet. This and all the available knowledge on television gives Germans a more global perspective, and that is very good, in my opinion. 

Adding to the smartness, I've never seen a misspelled word in anything written by a German, including e-mails, street signs, billboards, or even handwritten price tags at the fruit stand. If only we could say the same about ourselves. Is it our education system or simply the English language that makes many of us Americans such poor spellers? That is a question for somebody's doctoral thesis. 

Germans also have a large vocabulary. There are specific and numerous words for everything you can imagine, and things you didn't know existed. The German dictionary is one of the largest on earth, and there are suitable terms for each and every situation. Intelligent Germans are familiar with these words and are able use them.

Germans are formal. In written correspondence and e-mail, there is a proper form for addressing your co-workers, administrators, and strangers. When you don't know someone or they are a work colleague, they are referred to as Sie -- the formal version of the word "you." There are some people you can work with or know quite well, like my boss, who will always be Sie, and he calls me Sie as well. It is a matter of respect. If you violate the norms, you appear inept. There is a proper distance held by Germans with this formal mode of address, but it dates back in history, and therefore, I like it. Like many other things here, proper decorum is not lost to time and convenience.

Don't call us, we'll call you (back). When a German telephones your Handy, do they leave a message? Rarely. This puzzles me. Obviously, they don't care if you return their call if they don't leave a voice message, or they assume you will call back, because you can see that they phoned. 

Who phoned? If someone out there calls me, I don't have their number memorized. It could be anyone. It could be someone I don't want to talk to. It could be a realtor (I'm currently looking for apartments for reasons stated elsewhere in this blog entry). Do they leave a message? Nope. It is just assumed you will call back. Of course if it's one of your contacts, okay, you will see their name. But if it's a new number? I don't know who started this neglectful telephoning, but I find it very impractical, you Germans. Leave a message!

The Starers and the Scowlers. Out in the German world, there are many people who make it their duty to stare. This staring has diminished somewhat from when I first arrived in the country, but many German people -- especially those aged 70 and up -- stare at me. One day recently I was riding my bicycle in the woods, and two younger people about my age, having just finished their jog, stopped their conversation and stared at me as I rode by. Am I so striking they need to gawk at me steadily until I glare back? What is wrong with my clothes this time? Are my shoes dirty? Do I exude the essence of American, or what? Am I a curiosity? How am I so different from them that they must stare at me? Didn't their mothers ever teach them not to stare? It is so rude and so offensive. If someone stares at me, I usually mutter something offensive after I pass them, but that won't help. I think someone needs to get over here and hold an etiquette class on the matter. 

Then there are the scowls. Scowls on bicycle riders (though rare). Scowls on drivers' faces. Scowls on elderly people. Never have I seen so many unhappy people waiting by shopping carts in front of grocery stores. They are frumpy, hunched over, and scowling. The corners of their mouths hang down. The scowling makes me wonder if these people are a product of a country stricken by two wars in the last century, or if they simply don't get enough sunshine. Another thesis theme.

Aha -- perhaps I know why they stare -- I walk happily around the neighborhood or into the grocery store, perhaps smiling for no reason. There is a spring in my step, and I don't scowl. In America, we tend to acknowledge people around us, and smile or nod as a greeting, especially to older people, out of courtesy. However, at this point, I could become a scowler. After all, I live with a grumpy German, and that takes the smiles away one Schimpf at a time.

Germans do it better? There are many things that nobody can do as well as a German. They are experts in chemistry, engineering and car-making. Their economy is good, and the country is well-run. The German culture has been around for a long time, and they're very good at almost everything: not just beer and pretzels. 

Certain Germans try to make me feel as if my whole life I've been doing everything the wrong way. For example, a German guest might clean up the dishes from a table where I am the hostess, though at their house I am not allowed to touch plates or coffee cups. Every day I am given orders and reminders about how to close windows, drive my car, use the clutch, dress myself, eat, use electricity, put groceries away, place something in the refrigerator, wash the dishes, write e-mails, spend money, use cleaning supplies, hang clothes, and take a shower. Thankfully no German has told me how to wipe my ass after I use the toilet. 

Though life is very good here, one can also see that living among German can be very stressful. 

How does one handle all this stress? Well, yet another thing Germans are very good at is making wine. One glass is just enough to swoosh the Germanness out of my mind and return me to my former, reckless, American state. When one glass doesn't work, try three, or some delicious German Schnapps. Ahhhhhh... Then be yourself, because variety, as they say, is the Gewürz of life. 

Things Some Germans Say

 

Of course the language is different in Germany; it's one of the countries where the people speak... German.

However, though often perceived as harsh and commanding, German -- though quite complex -- is becoming more useful and interesting. I'm grasping it better, word by word, syllable by syllable. 

It is not the easiest of languages, because like English, German has so many words for the same thing. I read today that there are twice as many words in German than French. German could have more than any other language, due to the way words can be easily compounded. 

I suppose another difficulty comes when we expect to find commonalities with our own language when learning a second tongue, a natural thing our brain does. One thing that makes German difficult for an English speaker is that, though English had German beginnings, there are many words in German that have no relation whatsoever to the English words for the same thing. That is illogical and confusing, so you just have to memorize words you don't know. That being said, I'd like to teach you a few unique phrases I've heard from friends -- most that I never learned in German class and coincidentally resemble English in no way at all. 

I speak Spanish to God, Italian to women,
French to men, and German to my horse.
—Emperor Charles V

First of all, Germans are conversationalists. Most love sitting and talking, some for hours and hours, perhaps over a cup of Kaffee mit Kuchen or at a barbecue, where no one moves from their seat, even to go to the bathroom. Never before in my life have I been seated at a table for so long, listening to so many people talk -- never mind that it's not in my own tongue. It's a veritable summit every time Germans get together. 

All I can relate this to in my life's experience is photos of the old-timers sitting in lawn chairs during a family reunion. Were they seated there so long because they loved to talk, or because they needed help and/or were too tired to get up? We, the young people (70 years and under), moved around (!), played games, or stood in the kitchen talking, not for hours, but minutes. 

Another thing to note about German conversation is that it is never one-sided, and one is expected to look the speaker in the eye and respond often when spoken to. That is difficult for me, a person who is more of a listener than a talker, and whose mind wanders during long, drawn-out conversation.

As an example, there are several simple words that turn German statements into questions. One of these, used often in these parts, is the word gell. Das ist gut, gell? a German might say, which means "That's good, right?" 

Another is oder, which means "or." It is placed at the end of sentences, turning them into questions awaiting response from the listener. Das ist gut, oder? That "oder" on the end ensures a response, and it becomes habit-forming. I now attach it to English sentences I write to friends and family back home, wishing to get agreement with what I have just said.

Another conversation lure is Verstehst du? - Literally, this means "do you understand?" but it is used more like our English "you know?", for emphasis or confirmation. It is also stronger than gell and oder. For example, a German might say, Ich will keine Amerikanische Küche essen, verstehst du? In that case, the German is reiterating more strongly their statement that they don't want to eat American cooking. This phrase is used in conversation and is not really a question but again a follow-up phrase to make sure you are listening and understand. These people, again, are serious about their conversations. 

Germans I've encountered have trouble learning how to say "you're welcome" in English. I don't think it makes sense to them, so it's hard for them to remember. Their version of that same phrase is bitte, bitte sehr, or bitte schön, but bitte also means "please." Further, when Germans offer or serve you something, such as a drink or plate of food, they also say bitte. Nicer ways to respond to "thank you" in German are nichts zu danken (no reason to thank me) or gern geschehen (gladly!). 

When you're about to eat, Germans heartily wish you Guten Appetit! -- the equivalent of our English "enjoy your meal." It sounds nicer in German and is said more emphatically. They mean it, because they like to eat -- there aren't too many starving people in Germany. To me, when faced with a bountiful German breakfast or a delicious plate of Schnitzel accompanied by delicious asparagus, guten appetit! becomes my own little prayer thanking God that I was not born a plant and am therefore allowed to ingest food.  

Another German word with no direct correlating word in English is the word doch. Doch can be used to support a statement or it can mean "on the contrary." Here are two examples:

     Du hast mein Eis gegessen! (You ate my ice cream!)

     No, I didn't. 

     Doch! (Yes, you did!) 

     You didn't take the garbage out like I asked.

     Doch! (Yes, I did!)

Basically, the doch changes a negative into a positive. 

When saying hello, Germans have different ways to do so. There are hallo, servus, grüß Gott, or even hi. I say "hi" most of the time, because it's understood, and maybe it is different from most of the other people here, like I am. Of course, there are also the greetings of Guten Morgen and Guten Tag. 

Regarding greetings, I like to play a game with friends when we go bike-riding. If you pass a German and say "hello" (using any of the words above) and they respond, you get 1 point. If they greet you first, which VERY rarely happens, you get 5 points. If they shake their head at you or make a negative comment, you lose 2 points. It's a fun game. 

Saying goodbye is also interesting. When you know someone well, they might say bis dann ("until then") as you both turn and walk away from each other. This is said even though you don't have another predetermined future meeting. It's a little bit funny, but I like it.

 

WARNING: PARENTS ADVISORY!!! Very important for those of you who cuss: American name-calling can be detrimental in Germany. Calling someone an "asshole" in America isn't so bad. It is a stronger version of the word "jerk," of course referencing a certain body part. If you translate the word into German and call someone an Arschloch, it is one of the worst insults you can ever give and is not taken lightly. Don't use it in an argument with your boyfriend. 

The same goes for "bitch." Don't use it in Germany, because it doesn't just mean a rude woman -- Bitch in German translates to "utter whore." That's really bad when you're talking about someone's girlfriend or daughter. 

But please, don't let any of these warnings keep you from attempting to speak German. Just get ready to duck or run if you accidentally let one slip. 

What is funny about cussing in German is that the F word is thrown around here as lightly as a Frisbee -- though it's very bad in America. And "shit"? Even first grade students use that word often, in German. Scheisse!