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! 

Two Years in Germany

Today, May 31, is the anniversary of my arrival in Germany.

Two years ago today, tired but relieved, I landed at the Frankfurt Airport in the bright sunshine after an all-night flight. I proceeded to the trains with five bags in tow: two large and heavy suitcases, a small suitcase, and two collapsible bags jam-packed with belongings. There are escalators to be mastered at the airport, and a darker-skinned, good-looking, 30ish businessman in a snappy 3-piece suit helped me climb aboard the moving stairwells as I neared my train to Mannheim. Thanking him profusely, I asked how one says "gentleman" in German. Gentleman, replied the man, and I thanked him again. 

After clunking aboard the train to Mannheim surrounded by my baggage, I took the tram (Strassenbahn) toward the city of Viernheim in the state of Hessen. This is where I would work, at an international school I had applied to only three months earlier. Unfortunately, the tram stopped about 5 kilometers from my destination station, and I would have remained aboard and gone back the other way, had another kind stranger not told me to aussteigen. Oy vey, another lugging of the suitcases, off the tram, all five at once, crossing the tracks, looking for my ride to a place I'd never been. 

Finally I made it to the Viernheim Bahnhof, or main station, which no longer caters to bigger trains but rather only streetcars, buses, and taxis. Oddly, no cabs were there this time of day. Worse, I had no cell phone with which to phone anyone.  Two women with a stroller walked by, and I asked to borrow their cell phone. Up to this point, everyone was very nice, and I had remained exceedingly calm. How could I help but not be happy?! I was delirious with exhaustion, about to start a new adventure and fulfill my lifelong dream: living in Germany.

After arriving at the Schwyzerhuesli (hotel) and getting help from the owner lugging my stuff to the third floor (now I  realize why they call it "luggage"), I took a shower and a sizable nap. Ahhhh. Then I went out to look for a grocery store, snacks, bottled water and a prepaid telephone card for my old, reliable Blackberry. After walking around for at least two hours, getting lost, and going back to the hotel for directions again, I found the neighborhood Penny supermarket. It was right down the street. I had simply turned left instead of right, one time too many. Duh. But I'm not so sure I understood the German directions from the hotel staff in the first place.

Now I had a cell phone, and the hotel had wifi, so I could communicate again. I contacted one of my favorite people in the world first thing. Shortly thereafter, he -- my muy super bueno Swiss amigo -- called to welcome me to Europe, and it was one of the best phone calls I've ever gotten. 

He told me, "Cross your arms." I did. Then he said, "Cross them the other way." I did. "That's how it is being in a new country," he told me. It is not familiar, but it doesn't hurt, either. I would get used to it.

Indeed, it felt great to be on a new continent -- not visiting this time, but living and soon to be working. And now? It has become my home.

Yes, I remember that first day in Germany with clarity. I even remember the decor in my hotel room, and the lovely Dachfenster that I could peer out of, German skies all around. Now, exactly two years later, I've thought a little about what I've accomplished since I landed in Germany. 

I've eaten many pretzels and sausages... countless. (Of course my tally has to begin with food.) I've eaten lots of other things I would have never eaten before, such as Schweinehaxen and delicious, fresh Leberwurst from the butcher. I've grown addicted to pumpkin seed rolls from the bakery around the corner, and the Anatolien Turkish man makes the best Bauernsalat, Döner and French fries in a 50-kilometer radius. 

I've seen over 20 castles, and I've climbed up to most of those, touching their ancient stone walls with my comparably young hands. I even have favorites. There are many more to see. I've resided in three different "castles" of my own -- first a room above a kindergarten in Heidelberg, where I met many other nice teachers, then my own rooftop apartment in Weinheim with wonderful views, and now in a house in Viernheim with a garden and a fish pond. 

I've purchased an automobile, and I am driving on the Autobahn, and other roadways in Germany to boot, with nary an accident. I recognize what (most of) the street signs mean. I don't get lost very often anymore. I understand at least half of German radio news. I know which TV channels are educational and which are Scheisse, which are entertaining, and which show American programming (auf Deutsch, unfortunately). 

Now I know where the best grocery stores are in my neighborhood. I have a contract telephone plan with my new Blackberry. I have a much better job than the one I came here for, in a professional working environment with some very nice people who are a lot like me. I have a boss I respect, and who kisses me on the cheek from time to time. That's not sexual harassment in Germany. 

I've celebrated two Thanksgivings, two Halloweens (one alone -- BOO hoo), and one Christmas in Germany. I've gone to Weihnachtsmärkte in different towns, and I've drunk Glühwein at all of them. I made it to Oktoberfest last fall one day, and I even squeezed into a table with many other people for one delicious beer. I've drunk many, many bottles of locally-made wine -- it's kind of a necessity -- and I've eaten many, many pieces of Swiss and German chocolate.  

I've flown to England, Ireland and Italy since I've been here, but I really ought to go more places. I've been to Strasbourg, France, but I should really visit Poland, Switzerland, and other neighboring countries as well. I've been to the USA thrice in two years, and I'm going back again soon.

View from the path up to the Heidelberger Schloss, where I got news I was a grandmother on the 4th of July

I became a grandmother while here; specifically, it was on the 4th of July, just over two months after I arrived. At the time, I was touring the Heidelberg castle with an American friend. Somehow, the birth of such an amazing baby and the views in that spectacular place went together quite well. Sadly, I couldn't combine everything into one, due to geography. 

I've met many people, made some truly wonderful friends from all over the world, obtained a German boyfriend, ran a 5K, and am training for a 10K. The first item in that sequence is the most challenging of all, but I'm muddling through. Challenges are my specialty. 

I've learned lots and lots of German: many more words than Herr Moffat could teach me in high school and my German professor didn't have time to cover in college. However, there is soooooooo much more to learn, and I'm still just a novice compared to my German peers.

My biggest achievement might be maintaining my sanity in this country, though it has been tested (especially during these Wechseljahre). Adapting to life here -- something that seemed impossible when I first arrived -- does not seem so difficult now. 

There have been instances one might term "out-of-body experiences." These take place when I can't believe the things that I am doing, in a good way. At times like these, it is like I am not in my own body, and German life is moving too fast for my brain and consciousness to catch up. I do things I never imagined I would. For example, when I was sitting with a real estate agent and my soon-to-be landlords in their well-appointed living room, reading over a German lease and speaking limited German, pretending to understand most of what I was hearing, my mind balked at the scene and laughed to itself. You're actually doing this? I asked myself. Yes, I was. Incredible.

There have been several of those experiences, it's true, and I enjoyed them. Unglaublich! 

Remember, though -- nothing is ever too overwhelming. One can grab a glass of good German Rotwein with which to mull things over, or take a long walk in the beautiful German countryside or an old city. Grab a Lindt Williams candy bar to nosh on in times of stress, or call a friend. Truly, no German problem is too difficult to overcome, because I have so many great friends, and a wonderful family back home that I can visit when Germany needs a break from me, and vice versa. Das Leben ist gut. 

Happy Anniversary to me!

Wörterbuch / Dictionary

auf Deutsch - in German
aussteigen - deboard, climb off (trains, etc.)
Bahnhof - train station
Bauernsalat - farmer's salat (lots of fresh vegetables)
Döner - Turkish sandwich like a Greek gyro, served in flatbread with meat and sauce
Das Leben ist gut - Life is good.
Glühwein - hot, spiced wine
Leberwurst - liverwurst
Rotwein - red wine
Scheisse - shit
Schweinehaxen - pig's shank
Strassenbahn - streetcar/tramunglaublich - unbelievable
Wechseljahre -  menopause
Weihnachtsmärkte - open air Christmas markets

German Grocery Shopping

One of the best things about grocery shopping in Germany is the cost of food. You can subsist on 20 euros a week if you have to, or less. When I was first here and times were tougher, I did just that. Müsli, Kaffee, Äpfel, and Milch with perhaps a small loaf of healthy bread and some cheese and butter can be acquired for under 10 euros, and with that, you have almost all the food groups plus morning energy in a cup for the office. With a few more bucks you can get tortillas, chicken or pork, nuts, a good cucumber, and some Zaziki to top your homemade Döner.

Notably, in every grocery store I've been to, the chocolate aisle is the longest and most varied. Therefore, supplies are endless. You can choose from fine chocolates such as Lindt and Hachez or buy store brand bars to satisfy your Schoko cravings. There are so many choices, and chocolate is an art here. Around holidays, you will find special displays -- in addition to the long rows of chocolate -- filled with chocolate frogs, bugs, Weihnachtsmänner, and bunnies. Chocolate is important and everywhere; this is definitely a country that has its priorities in order. 

Be prepared with a few of your own reusable grocery bags for your Lebensmittel, because most stores charge you 20 cents to buy a plastic bag. This is for good reason: supplying the bags is costly, and there is way too much plastic floating around in our oceans. You can put your groceries in one of your bags as you shop, if you don't have too much to buy. Many people in Germany arrive at stores with their own large bags or even small trolleys for carrying their purchases home (from any store) -- even the men. 

Grocery carts are not free for customers. You must put one euro or a plastic token in the slot provided on the cart handle. For this reason perhaps, there aren't too many homeless German people pushing grocery carts around.

When you check out at the cashier, be prepared to move quickly. Many Germans are not patient when it comes to standing in line. It's incredible how some people will rudely glare at you and stand very close to you to hurry you through the line. (Out of necessity, I have my elbow ready to jab them when they get too close.) Others will cut in front of you in line -- the courtesy you might experience at home is much less common here. Checking out is harried, because the cashiers are quick, especially at ALDI, where they swipe and scan your items so fast you don't have time to put what you've bought into your bag or cart. 

It seems that the people who have the most time -- retired or elderly people -- are the ones who are in the biggest hurry. Perhaps they've lived long enough to have stood in bread lines during or after the war, I don't know. There are exceptions of course, but a lot of older German people are pushy. 

One day at a store in Heidelberg, the one cashier open had a long line, so a new cashier was opening. A woman at the very end of the other line rushed in front of three other people who were waiting for the new cashier, including myself. The woman who led us three told the other woman, "I was waiting in line." The rude woman said, "Well, I was waiting in a line, too." I looked at the man in front of me, who was kind enough to offer to let me go in front of him, but I said no thank you and that some people WERE NOT VERY NICE in a voice that grew steadily louder, so the bitch could hear. What did she do after she purchased her one item that was so important she had to cut in front of three other people? She stood at an empty counter nearby, reading the store's advertising brochure. I almost walked over to tell her what I really thought, but hopefully she heard me the first time. 

Bagboys? Non-existent. You bag your groceries yourself. What Germans do if they have many items is simply put them back into the cart after the cashier has scanned the items, then they bag them on a counter or table nearby after paying. This is all for speed and efficiency (rushing and impatience) in the checkout line. Once, when I had a lot of groceries spread out on the belt and I was slow to put them in my cart, I had to explain to the cashier that I am American, and I do things differently. She was understanding. 

Yes, grocery shopping in Germany can be fun, if you ignore the pressure at the checkout line. There are so many new foods to discover and try out (especially in the chocolate section). 

Wörterbuch/Dictionary
Äpfel  - apples
Döner  - a Turkish fast food like a gyro -- flatbread stuffed with meat and toppings
Kaffee - coffee
Lebensmittel - groceries
Milch - milk
Müsli - granola
Schoko - short for Schokolade, or chocolate
Weihnachtsmänner - literally "Christmas men". Der Weihnachstmann is Santa Claus.
Zaziki - a Greek sauce made from yogurt, with garlic and cucumber

Trivial Things to Note About Life in Germany

It's hard to find a good taco in Germany... unless you make them yourself.

These are just a few helpful little tidbits things I've noticed about Germany and can remember at this very moment. Don't come to Germany expecting to find good tacos, German chocolate cake, or Sloppy Joes while you drive as fast as you can on the Autobahn. It's not what you're thinking. 

• It's bad luck to celebrate birthdays early, or even wish someone "happy birthday" before their birth date. Afterward is okay, but before -- nein.
• You have to bring your own cake to share on your birthday. Others do not provide it for you, unless they're your mother or aunt and they bake better. Sometimes, there are a choice of cakes, especially at some children's birthday parties, for particular Germans. You can have a piece of each!
• Buy hamburger or Hackfleisch freshly ground from a butcher. Do not buy it from a grocery store. Supposedly, grocery store burger stinks and is poor quality with added preservatives. I don't notice any difference, but if you listen to certain Germans, they won't eat ground beef unless it comes from a butcher. 
• Hackfleisch is ground meat. Sometimes it's mixed beef and pork. If you want good ground beef, be sure to ask for Rinderhackfleisch. 
• White asparagus must be peeled before you cook it. It's not like green asparagus, where you just cut off the tips and steam or saute it. Don't learn that the hard way. You'll be chewing an awfully long time.
• No one is going to bag your groceries. You do all the bagging yourself. In fact, you do all the bagging AFTER you go through the check out line, AFTER you pay, and AFTER you walk away with your cart. There are counters and bagging areas past the cashier, on the way to the exit. Attempting to bag your own groceries before this will only result in you getting rushed by the German in line behind you, or you'll get weird looks from the cashier. (I bag my groceries quickly in my own shopping bag, as fast as they can scan them, but with a big grocery list, this is impossible.)
• It costs one euro to borrow a grocery cart (they're not free). You get your euro back when you return the cart.

You can't find this cake in Germany

• German Chocolate -- the main ingredient in the famous American cake with coconut and pecan frosting -- does not exist here. Chocolate made in Germany is just chocolate, albeit very good. German Chocolate in German Chocolate Cake is an extra sweet chocolate developed by an American man whose last name was "German." Really!
• When asked to smile for a picture, a German will ask you to say "spaghetti". 
• Germans eat a lot of spaghetti, in my experience, which is surprising. It is many a German child's favorite food, according to my research, and adults eat plenty of it as well.
• You can go to prison for sporting a swastika. Das ist verboten. 
• Peanut butter and popcorn kernels are not that easy to find in a grocery store. Popcorn is mostly of the sweetened variety. Salzig is less common. 
• You won't get ice in your cup at the movies. Don't even try. 
• At a fast food restaurant such as Burger King or McDonald's, you won't get a full cup of ice, but rather a few cubes. Ask for extra ice, and you may get 10 cubes, if you're lucky. I gave up a long time ago.
• Sekt is the German version of champagne. 
• There are speed limits on portions of the Autobahn -- it's not a racing free-for-all like we are led to believe. Speed limits aren't everywhere, but when they exist, they usually range from 70 to 120 kph (45 to 75 mph). 

• Germans use English cusswords more liberally than Americans do. The F and S words come from the mouths of middle school students, but adults often make them part of their everyday language as well. The German word for "crap" is Mist. Nice, eh?
• I can't say whether it's nationwide, but in this part of the country, Germans drink a shot of tequila with cinnamon and orange instead of lime and salt. Komisch.
• There's no such thing as a Sloppy Joe. Schade.

Wörterbuch

Das ist verboten. - That is forbidden. 

Hackfleisch - ground meat (pork and/or beef)

Komisch - strange

Mist - crap

Nein - no

Rinderhackfleisch - ground beef 

Salzig - salty

Schade - shame

Sekt - sparkling wine

Buying a Car in Germany

I bought a car. 

First of all, let me say that I didn't really need a car. I could continue to ride on the Strassenbahn every day, 57 minutes each way from here to Heidelberg and back for work. Though riding the tram so often and for so long subjects me to all the wicked German viruses my body can't fight without German antibiotics and is basically like a glorified city bus with a lot more people, one definite plus is I could finish reading 247 books in a year. But that may be the only positive, other than saving lots of money. But who needs money?Life is short.

Ah, the car.

Once secured financially, it was time to start shopping. I began reading the Sunday newspaper Anzeigen and storming various German search engines, such as autoscout24.de, mobile.de, and quoka.de. With the internet, you can hone your search to car makes and models, years, mileage (kilometerage), interior color, exterior color, number of seats, number of previous owners, type of transmission, number of doors, usw. You can also buy a car on ebay.de, if you find one you like and it's not too far away. I looked everywhere I could, from the comfort of my couch.

Soon I discovered that perhaps it is not so easy to buy a car in Germany. Everything is closed on Sundays, and people don't answer their telephones, because it's a day for doing nothing. But again, thanks to the internet and all my e-mails, I was getting a few responses. By that time, many cars were already sold. Also, I had a German consultant standing by, telling me what to buy and what not to buy, in a not so gentle manner. Ah, the Germans. 

She's a beaut!

Naja, after three visits to used car lots, many hours of searching, pining and pinging, sending e-mails to sellers, and making arrangements via telephone, I landed my beautiful blue Opel. It felt surprisingly easy after all was said and done. I think I got a fantastisch deal: a 4-door beauty with only 88,000 km (about 54,000 miles) for less than 3,000 euros (about $4,000). It was the best choice. 

My new used vehicle is actually classified as a Kleinbus. No matter what it is, it has an engine, gas pedal, stick shift, and a stereo, so it will work for me. It even has a DVD-Spieler. Besides, I'm an Oma now, and driving mini-vans seems to be my latest trend. It's all good: these types of vehicles are roomy, and you can pack kids, luggage, dogs and men over 6 feet tall into them quite easily. All of those things are important.

The process for registering a vehicle is a bit different than in the U.S. For example, if you want "personalized" plates, you order them in a shop right next door to the driver's license bureau, or Verkehrsbehörde. Mine were still warm from the stamping machine when I paid for them; it took no more than two minutes! You must remember, however, that your plates must include the letters that designate what region you live in. Sometimes, it can be hard to form words with the letters you're given, but it's possible. 

This person from Kaiserslautern chose to be klug (smart)

Though Germany seems more crowded than some American cities where I've lived, their department of motor vehicles was not. We drew # 44 from the ticket machine at the information desk, and it took about 40 minutes of waiting time and then just about 10 minutes to perform all the tasks we needed to: choosing a license plate number, giving bank information for the Steuer payment to the tax office, removing the old stamps from the old plates on the car (souvenirs for me), running next door to get my new plates stamped, and paying the cashier for the services rendered. It was quite painless, and I even managed some German small talk for practice while I waited.

Now the real test begins: driving my German car in German traffic with German street signs, while listening to German radio and perhaps making more German small talk.

Wörterbuch

Anzeigen - (classified) ads
DVD-Spieler - DVD player
fantastisch - amazing, fantastic
Kleinbus - mini-van, small bus
klug - smart
naja - oh well
Oma - grandma
Steuer - tax(es)
Strassenbahn  - streetcar, tram, light rail train
usw. - short for und so weiter  -- and so forth (etc.)
Verkehrsbehörde - literally "traffic agency", department of motor vehicles

Germany and Soap

By no means am I an expert on anything that I write about, and German soap -- Seife -- is yet another thing over which I can only opine. And observe. And puzzle.

What leads me to this discussion on something so simple, so necessary, so helpful? Whelllllll... I scrubbed the kitchen floor one day. However, in the house where I live, there is an ever-reigning Saubernazi who is never satisfied with any cleaning I do -- or any cleaning anyone has ever done (besides himself). When I proudly stated I had cleaned the Küchenboden, he predictably asked what I had used on the floor.

"Soap and water," was my simple response. Mom did it. I do it, too, when necessary. It's what you do when you don't have other resources, such as a maid's cart or a bucket full of chemicals. For the tile floor in our house, I mixed just a little bit of organic, "natural," fine-smelling grapefruit dishwashing liquid (made in Germany!) with hot water in the kitchen sink.

Yes, soap and water: the most elemental of household cleaning supplies.

"Was?!?!" (pronounced "VOSSSSSS????!!!!") was the response I got. First of all, I had replied in English, so that didn't start things off so well, especially after I was already in trouble for cleaning something.

"Seife und Wasser," I replied a bit more mildly, knowing that the chord had already been struck.

Oh, boy. Here it comes.

"Was??!!??!!"

And the ranting and raving began. There was floor cleaner in the cabinets. Hadn't I looked? The Putzteufel began storming about the house, searching through cupboards,  trying to lure me into following him so he could show me, anxious to yank out a bottle of some high-powered, specialized German floor cleaner.

Seife und Wasser?

Ach, I had done it all wrong. The floor was now sticky (even though he hadn't even touched it). All kinds of floating stuff in the air would land there. It was now filthier than before I began, if you can believe that. Unholy. Tainted. Utterly ruined. The American had once again made the fatal mistake of doing some housework. Soap and water would never do. No, never.

Well, I'll tell you, I wasn't going back to do it again. The pressure he was exerting did not bother me in the very least. I was used to it. Besides, I had just cleaned that dang floor by hand on my knees -- twice -- with an old towel (in the absence of a mop, because for some reason we have NO mop and NO broom in the house). Wringing the towel out in the sink with my bare hands, getting in touch with the kitchen spillage and crumbs, seeing the results of my labor in the murky water... now that was satisfying. And not unlike Cinderella. Luckily for him and on my own accord, I even cleared some of the long-term dirt and grime out of the ribs of the kitchen radiator. In my opinion, the floor was so clean, so sparkling, so perfect, I would eat a little Würstchen off of it.

But soap and water is not good enough! Not in Germany. Here, cleaning -- like many things -- is so much more complicated.

So my excuse could be that I have trouble reading German labels. Herr Moffat had never taught us the words for different household cleaners in high school Deutsch. All I knew was the word "Seife."

A Putzteufel. Looks like mine!

Initially, my practical experience with German soaps took place when I moved into shared living quarters with another teacher upon arrival, named so because we were on the 2nd floor atop a kindergarten, not in a "real" apartment. The day I arrived, I had to move and remove desks and chairs made for little people and turn the former classroom into a place to sleep. My temporary roomie KK -- who also worked at the kindergarten -- and I shared our bathroom and kitchen with the teachers from the school down below, who would come up to make toast and coffee on weekdays. It was a pleasant arrangement, and the girls were very nice. We also shared the laundry room deep underground, in the Keller of the three-story Haus.

Ach mein Gott, where to begin?

It was there in that basement I first had to identify any kind of soap. But it wasn't so easy to spot. There were cleansers and fabric softeners, solvents and sanitizers -- many different clear plastic bottles on the rack close to the washing machine, filled with differently-colored liquids. Where would I start?

The labels were of no help, because the words were 3 to 5 syllables long. Voll-Waschmittel? Was ist das? I'd only just arrived in the country and couldn't understand any of it with my limited German vocabulary. I took a chance on a bottle of pink liquid, and my clothes smelled clean after -- maybe too clean. Had I used too much? Never mind the number of hours it took for the washing machine to do my load (German washers can go for hours!).

Later, when grocery shopping, I purchased a bottle of strong-smelling fabric softener -- Weichspüler. I didn't know what it was until afterward, when there was a sort of residue on the clothes, and they never seemed very clean. Well, at least they had gotten rinsed. 

I still didn't know what the word for laundry soap was. Did I bother to ask my roommate? Nah... I would have to be stupid if I couldn't figure out something so simple. It was easy, right? Not true. I still don't know all the words for soap that exist here in Germany.

Now that I think about it, I suppose it's no easier back home for a foreigner. Different words for soap in English aren't so simple either. We have dishwashing liquid, laundry detergent, fabric softener (those all happen to be 5 syllables long as well). Something so simple has become so complex.

One thing that may help -- something I just learned today: Seife is only for the body. "Normaleweise," Heinie says, in his all-knowing tone, "verwenden SEIFE für den Körper." That translates to "one normally uses SOAP for the body".

I guess that would explain why he panicked when I said I cleaned the kitchen floor with the stuff.


Wörterbuch/Dictionary

(cas) Deutsch - German
(das) Haus - building, house
(der) Keller - basement, cellar

(die) Seife - soap
(die) Flüssigseife - liquid soap (for hands)

(das) Geschirr - dishes
(das) Geschirrspülmittel - dishwashing liquid (soap)
(der) Spül-Balsam - dishwashing liquid (soap), but softer for the hands

(das)Waschmittel - laundry detergent (soap)
(die) Wäsche - clothing, laundry

(die) Putzteufel - cleaning fanatic

(der) Reiniger - cleaner

spülen - to rinse
waschen - to wash

Was?!?! -  What?!?!?
Was ist das?  - What is that?