Practice Makes Perfekt

Martin has been harassing my class that we need to spend more time speaking German outside of class, so last Friday night Ryan and I instituted a half-hour of only German. We lasted about 10 minutes before we both started running into words we only knew in English. We kept it up for the full half hour, but since Friday have failed to initiate another practice session. Then again, on Monday and Wednesday Ryan has evening classes and we only see each other about an hour anyway, and I'd rather not sacrifice valuable catch-up time to sputtering about in German.

But yesterday I practiced with a real German! Normally I don't chat with people when I'm doing laundry or shopping, people are very formal here and don't generally joke with strangers. But yesterday the fridge repairman came (no our fridge wasn't broken, but the fridge light was finicky and our Hausmeister insisted that it run properly! Sorry Bonnie, but that's Germans vs. Brits.) Anyway, he was this heavily-mustached elderly man who puffed and complained the whole way up our 5 flights of stairs. I apologized that we have no elevator, but he just smiled and said "You are young, it is easy for you to go up the stairs."

I showed him to the fridge and explained that the light works sometimes. He said something I didn't understand then gestured flicking a switch, and said "ausmachen" which I just learned in class that morning. I guessed he meant the fuse box, so I took him back downstairs and showed him. He told me to go upstairs and yell when the fridge light went off. I did and he seemed to find the problem quickly. (I always wonder where and what I should be doing when there's a repairman over. I don't want to stand over his shoulder, but is it rude to go into the other room and go about my business?) So I sat at the kitchen table and looked over my homework. He asked me to flick the switch back on, and voila! Fridge light!

He asked me where I came from and I explained the whys and wheres. He said he'd never been to the US before then something I didn't understand and then said "Aussie" and I thought "maybe he's been to Australia?" So I said "Super!" And then he clarified that he's from the east, an "Ossie" not "Aussie" as in behind the wall. I didn't know what to say, so he asked if we intended to stay forever. I said "No, just for 2 or 3 years." And he said "You shouldn't stay here forever. Its no good here. Next year I'm going to retire and move to Norway."

I asked "Isn't the beer in Norway very expensive?"
"I don't smoke and I don't drink!"
"That is not typical."
Then he said something something "abend" which is evening, and then "do you understand?"
"Not really."
Then he said it again I realized he was saying "arme" which means poor. He proceeded to explain "Poor is when someone doesn't have much money. Rich is like a millionaire." Then he laughed and wished me a good day.

When the Hausmeister insisted on getting a repairman to come over I was a little irritated because I hate having to wait around for them, but now I see that I should break the fridge more often. If the fridge repairman came over once a week, my German would improve very quickly.

The Eyes of a Psychopath

Monday through Wednesday my German class is taught by a subdued and bashful lady called Corrina. Thursday introduced us to Martin, her ADHD counterpart. He made us do extended introductions and I came to learn that my classmates are generally all Bohemian artist/musician/designer types. The Japanese student is learning the language primarily so he can read some abstract Austrian philosopher's original works. When my turn came I meekly explained that I am a hausfrau, here because my husband has a job.

Martin doesn't let us speak English. We ended class on Friday with a worksheet about parents and children. We were presented with 3 photographs of children and 3 photographs of parents and had to match them based on short descriptive paragraphs. He questioned us for whom we thought belonged to whom. He asked me about the third parent-child match and I basically had no good reason. But looking at the picture I said, "Well this daughter and mother both have crazy eyes." Martin asked "Why do you think she has crazy eyes?" I had no idea how to explain this in German. I tried to think of the translation for "silly" and then remembered that in German silly=dumb. So I said "I don't know, she has a dumb face?"

Everyone laughed and Martin taught us the word for "to stare." My British classmate passionately disagreed. "The mother has friendly eyes. The mother in the first picture is the one with the eyes of a psychopath!" This devolved into our class arguing about who had psychopathic eyes and what exactly constituted psychopathic eyes.

So, should I have to describe someone to the police, I know how to say "crazy eyes" "dumb face" and "looks like a psychopath." That's real world knowledge. And I was right about the mother and daughter belonging to each other. You can always tell by the eyes.

First Day of School!

My German class started this morning. I was pretty nervous about going. This is the first class I've taken, mostly I've been learning by listening to pod casts and through books. I was assigned to level A2, which is the second of five or six levels. Primarily I worried that the class would be way ahead of me grammatically and that I would end up being the token stupid kid.

I showed up 10 minutes early to find my group and classroom. There must be nearly 100 students in the various classes, and they were all milling about chatting with each other. A new fear struck me: would they be so tight-nit that there would be no place for one awkward American chick?

Class started and the teacher started by asking what we did on the weekend and I thought I'd impress by laying out a phrase learned only yesterday, "zu Fuss gehen" which means to go for a walk. She asked me a follow up question and I had no idea what she was talking about. Backfire. I stared at my classmates who were staring back encouragingly, some even making gestures to try and help me. No dice. Only when I got home was I able to look up "spazieren"-to stroll.

On break my two American classmates approached and complained about our teacher. The previous session's teacher was apparently more animated than a cartoon character and cracked a lot of jokes. I think our teacher is pretty nice, but they find her dull. I changed the subject by admitting how shoddy my grammar is, and they admitted they didn't catch much of the morning's grammar lesson either.
"We had to take a grammar test at the end of last session and we all failed." They quipped. I thought 'Maybe its good thing we got a new teacher.'

I'm very happy to have class everyday. I've felt pretty aimless lately. I'm a person who needs to have work, and our small flat is not very much work.

In other news, Ryan's Canadian boss is in town for these next two days and I'm hoping we can get some details about both the whys and hows of our proposed move. They're having dinner tonight, details to follow....

Uggggggg....Blekkkkkkk........Grrrrrrrr!!!!!!!!

A young man walks down the street. Standing inside the door of the bank is his wife. She smiles as she sees his approach. She gathers her folder of documents and opens the door to him.
"I brought you some chocolates." The man smiles meekly. His wife's eyes bulge, her voice drops to a whisper.
"What has happened?"
"Didn't you say you always wanted to live in Frankfurt?"
"WHAT?!" She exclaims too loudly. Others in the bank turn to see the commotion.

That was yesterday evening. Our appointment to switch to Berliner Volksbank was rendered instantly moot. Ryan's company has decided in their infinite wisdom, to move our entire branch to Frankfurt this summer. Keep in mind, some of the Berlin employees haven't even moved in yet! We have been in our apartment for 4 weeks, and had furniture for 1 week. This whole thing is totally bizarre. It was explained as having to do with an argument between the regional manager (whose family is in Frankfurt) and a recently-fired CFO who set us up in Berlin. And so everyone gets to move or be out of a job. For us there is no choice, although we love Berlin and partly chose this position because of its location. But our visas are tied to Ryan's job. Great.

The place we are moving is not even IN Frankfurt, but about 30 minutes southeast by car, which we don't have. Needless to say, we are all pretty pissed. Can I hope for a branch-wide mutiny?

Silly Days for Serious People

In Germany "silly" is synonymous with "stupid" and people maintain dignity at all times. So you can imagine my surprise when we were invited to a Karneval party on Saturday night and met with a night of Germans gone wild.

We had planned to meet up with our friends Simon & Sarah. They decided we must go to a Karneval party. With only an hour or so's notice we scoured the closet and came up with a costume of "American Tourists." We donned our most athletic sneakers, white tube socks, money belts on top of our clothes, sunglasses, and Obama pins. Ryan tucked in a polo shirt and I wore a scarf proclaiming "Paris, France." We looked pretty dumb and I really hoped that we weren't having a prank pulled on us.

But when we got to the party people were dressed much weirder than us, wearing bizarre hats shaped like cakes, flower pots, etc. Faces were painted green, or wearing Elton John-like sunglasses. Some people were dressed like cowboys, but most costumes weren't so literal. And unlike Halloween there weren't any sexy costumes.

The music was very loud and very oompa-pa. Ryan and I didn't know how to dance it; it was more like marching music. But everyone else was going crazy! Simon explained to us that this is the once a year when Germans can dance without worrying about looking undignified. Most of the songs were traditional Karneval songs from Köln (Cologne) and in a very thick dialect. The DJ did play "Country Roads" and "Summer of '69." I was excited to hear a song I knew, and some drunk old business man did a weird dance with me. The dance basically consisted of slow-motion high-fiving. Then the DJ got really excited and took off his pants. His shirt was past his bum, thankfully, because he wasn't wearing any underwear.

Later on we were forcibly abducted into a conga line, I drank too much, and on the way out of the bathroom Sarah and I were hit on by some guys who said they didn't care that we are married. Sarah asked if they would buy drinks for our husbands too, and I almost thought it would work. It was too much for one night, and when I woke up the next morning I decided it was good that Lent started soon.

But one more thing. They played a funny song called "20 Centimeter" which is about, um, male anatomical bragging. Its very catching, and here's a link if you dare. Email me if you want a translation.

Hallelujah

The great Strange Financial Crisis of 2009 has finally been resolved. It turns out the problem was someone dumb in the HR department, not the bank. In the meantime, beer, groceries, washing machine, and IKEA. Oh yes.

A Week of Perpetual Incompetence

Two Sundays ago we were invited to a nice dinner with a family and another couple from church. We were all Americans save for one German, and we got on the subject of German professionalism. I complemented the country, pointing out how seriously people take their jobs, and with such pride. German products are generally known for their high quality, which I attribute to the fact that Germans generally have one career for life. There is no waitressing to pay for tuition, no second job to make ends meet. If you are a bank teller or a garbage man, its because you chose that career, trained for it, and will have it for the rest of your life. There is an incentive to be good at what you do.

But that teaches me for stereotyping, even in a positive sense. Ryan and I have been battling a variety of companies this last week who display a stunning array of incompetencies.

Friday we were due a visit from Deutsche Telekom, the company that owns all the internet connections in the country. Although we have our internet from Vodafone, DT has to come and set up the connection. We had to wait 16 days for this appointment, and after the technician left, it didn't work. Several phone calls later, I was given the answer "maybe it will just start working over the weekend." Right. I love it when electronic gadgets fix themselves.

Surprise surprise, still broken on Monday. And meanwhile Ryan's company still hadn't gotten our reimbursements back to us and our bank account was dwindling quickly. Monday Ryan set out to tackle that problem while I spent more time on the phone to Vodafone and Deutsche Telekom, each of whom denied the internet problem was their fault. After going back and forth with them for several hours, I was told to wait until noon on Tuesday, then maybe it would work. The logic here is stunning.

Tuesday afternoon I ring Vodafone again and they promise to send a Vodafone technician...tomorrow. I explain that I've been waiting since Friday and before that for two weeks, but "nothing can be done today." Ryan managed to get the email of his HR person's supervisor in Canada who is very apologetic about his expense report and promises to send the money herself immediately. Then surprisingly, a Vodafone technician shows up at 6pm. He tells me Deutsche Telekom has made a mistake and he will get another technician out tomorrow. He also fixes one of my electrical sockets, which was nice of him.

Wednesday morning the internet miraculously works. HR tells Ryan the money should be in our account today. All is right in the universe!? Not quite. Deutsche Telekom still wants to send a technician out and I spend a few phone calls explaining we don't need a technician anymore. And the money doesn't show up in our bank account. Ryan investigates further and comes to discover that Deutsche Bank has mysteriously removed his name from our account, and that's why we can't receive his salary. I spend some time on the phone with Deutsche Bank, then rush down to the nearest branch (3 subway stops away) and they have just closed, because its Wednesday, and that's the day it arbitrarily closes 2 hours early. Blech.

So today I'm off to correct that situation, as soon as the bank opens at the lazy hour of 10. Its been a bit of a stressful week to say the least, but I'm hoping that these things won't be a problem in the future. I'll probably get a new bank account since this isn't the first time that Deutsche Bank has screwed up our account. And luckily we won't have to deal with Deutsche Telekom or Vodafone much in the future since we are now installed. That is a good incentive not to move. There has been a big row in the finance department at Ryan's company's headquarters over the expense report and that situation has been worked out. So there is hope that our experience with German companies will go back to being smooth and delightful.