I guess the newness of living abroad still hasn't worn off, if I'm still tickled by -- or at least, still logging -- the quirks and differences. I think that's a good sign. Maybe it means those pinch-myself, oh-boy-I-really-get-to-live-here moments are here to stay!
So bum da da dum, here is the latest roundup of Gee, How Swell It is to Live in Germany...
- I love how much Germans love their country. Not in a political or national sense (that's complicated enough!), but a natural one. The whole land is covered by a well-tended and well-marked network of walking/biking/hiking paths, dotted with cozy huts in which to park and rustle up a warm spicy Glühwein in the winter or sparklingly refreshing Schorle in the summer. And what's more, people use it. It's like Sunday is national Let's Go Outside Day, and everyone dons their gear (sleek and perfectly engineered to the purpose, of course ;) ) and joins each other for fresh air and sunshine. Bert and I have gotten out a couple times in the last week for nice long day-hikes through the snowy Odenwald, and our countrymen were out in droves -- families shrieking with glee on a sledding hill out in the middle of nowhere, jolly hiking clubs sharing their pear schnapps with us at one of the ubiquitous natural Points of Interest... to be sure, we Americans like our national parks, too, but there's a wildness and inaccessibility to them that I think can somewhat prohibit a spontaneous Sunday stroll through Yellowstone. The compacter forests of Western Europe seem somehow more manageable (and significantly freer of bears).
- This has become so second-nature to me that it feels odd to comment on it until I remember that we don't do this in America: that is, when you walk into a room for a meeting, you shake hands with everyone there. Every time. Even if you've been meeting for years. In my job, which consists almost solely of small meetings, I must shake over a dozen hands a day. It's somehow nice: I like making that physical and eye contact with each person you're about to work with (although it also means I've become a hand-washing freak! Back, ye colds and virii!). I need to remember to instruct my students that, in the States, this is only done when you are first introduced.
- The Pfalz has a noticeably French touch, which is not surprising, since this area has belonged alternately to both countries over the years. So although there's a lot of hand-shaking at work, you greet friends and friendlike colleagues with cheek-kissing. Left then right: squeek-swak. I find this pleasingly Continental and elegant (although am still American enough to let the other person initiate it).
- Frenchisms also abound in the dialect -- I even hear people exclaim "Mon Dieu!"
- I also like the Pfälzisch dialect itself. To be honest, I haven't always; in the beginning, it made me feel frustrated and excluded. Now, I still can't use it (although Pfälzer laugh when they hear me go "Ajoh" or "alla hopp") but I find it adorable. I love buying "näier Woi" in the autumn and hearing BASF employees say they start work at "sivve." (For you linguaphiles, here's an interesting overview of de Pälzsch.)
- Speaking of dialects, people have started asking me where I come from in the East! I guess that's what I get for living with a Saxon...
- Germans have often complained to me that their countrymen complain too much. It took a long time for me to gather enough input to verify this, but I think now I can agree that yes, they do. Not everyone does, and not all the time, but enough to make me notice and laugh. I mean, if Being Outdoors is the national pastime, Griping must come in a close second. You have a comprehensive national health care program, but have to pay -- gasp! -- ten whole Euros at each doctor's visit? Mon Dieu! The Deutsche Bahn will take you anywhere for even cheaper and faster and more comfortable than it is to drive by car, but it's five minutes late today? Ach, du lieber Himmel! I'm not sure where this comes from, this insistence on being (or at least appearing) easily unsatisfied. I wonder if it has to do with a cultural tendency to demand perfection and Ordnung, and displaying outrage at the slightest infraction would prove your own commitment to excellence. I dunno. Any other ideas?
Anyway, speaking of Germans, there is a lovely sleepy one waiting to have his breakfast with me. Time for some coffee!
3 comments:
Ach, du lieber Himmel!!
:-) You've given me a flashback to Imsbach, in 1982, where our neighbor, Herr Bruehl, used to exclaim every time a skate board went rattling down his street while he was trying to walk his dog. It was a tiny dead end street with about six houses, two of them full of American boys under age twelve. I could identify with Herr Bruehl -- I was feeling outnumbered and disrupted by all those rascals, too! But he was actually very sweet. Similar to your observation, I always got the feeling he had to exclaim and complain, then after that formality was out of the way he could laugh and joke with my parents. He adored peanut butter, so my Mom always bought him some at the commissary, since you couldn't find it anywhere on the economy at the time. So we had our own little community Ordnung goin' on. I love how people learn to relate!
Haha, totally! And funny about the peanut butter -- we keep some friends of ours in goodly supply, too. ;) (Although nowadays you can indeed find peanut butter at the health-food store; but it's the kind I like to eat -- all natural -- rather than the Peter Pan Honey Roasted SuperSugar ChemicalBomb that our friends are addicted to!)
Ya.
Spend a morning, any morning with Elka Raines on the front porch and you got an ear-full.
And my personal favorite, "Oh, You Americans! Anything worth doing, is worth OVER doing."
I still laugh... =o)
Thanks, Nik!
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