Residents of Germany

We’re officially legal residents of Germany until June 30, 2013! Alex got a letter in the mail saying that his residence permit was ready to be picked up in Osnabrück. Everyone knew that his wouldn’t be a problem, but I was overcome with fear when my letter didn’t come in the mail. My 90 visitor days were wearing thin…

The two of us had only been to the immigration office in Osnabrück by car with Katja, and Google Maps told us it was a distance from the train station. The only thing to do was to take our bikes on the train. That was even more annoying than the luggage fiasco.

Once we got to the city, we rode our bikes to the office. They gave Alex his brand new residence permit, as promised, and coincidentally, had mine ready to go, too! It was so exhilarated! Everything was falling into place, and all the exasperating paperwork was worth it!

LSAT + Oktoberfest = Alex and Megan

We were sitting on a Munich bound train before the sun was even up on October 6 so that Alex could take his LSAT exam. The train ride was six hours long, and we would arrive in the city about an hour before his exam. That would give us just enough time to drop our things off at the hostel, refuel, and get Alex to the test that would determine where he would attend school next year. Moreover, we were going to Munich in October… how could we not swing by the last weekend of Oktoberfest? It was ironic that the LSAT’s were taking place in Munich during this internationally famous drinking festivity, but we weren’t going to question it.

The frightening thought of being alone in a German city for the first time never crossed my mind. Being the anal individual that I am, it may have caused me nightmares. Therefore, I developed a plan! My friend Anthony from high school will also be in Germany this year. He joined the Air Force, and they stationed him in Germany. He lives about seven hours away from Melle, so an unscheduled play date was out of the question. However, I Facebook messaged him and found out that he would be at Oktoberfest that weekend, too. Perfect! Not only was I excited to see a friend from home since it’s been what feels like forever, but “Operation Keep Busy While Alex Takes the LSAT” was full proof. Or so I thought…

I called Anthony when we got to Munich, and we played a game of phone tag for a while. When he finally answered my call, he told me that he couldn’t find our pre-established meeting place or a map to get him there. There was no map in sight for me either. Besides, I like to rely on my Tom-Tom. Time was escaping us, and Alex’s exam was getting closer and closer. He was flustered and didn’t want to leave me alone, but that’s what had to be done. We both split up for the first time since September 1, and all I know from this experience is that separation anxiety is a real thing!

I held my composure, though, because there was nothing I could do about the situation for the next four hours, and tried to make the best of my time. American Megan would probably be cranky about this whole debacle, but European Megan was determined to see the silver lining. It was my first time really giving optimism a real shot, and it showed me a great time. Nobody is more flabbergasted about this new found attitude than me.

At first, I didn’t want to stray too far from the university where Alex was, but the surroundings eventually bored me. I took a giant leap of faith and walked across the street where I took pictures in the park. Then, the most miraculous thing happened… I stumbled upon an English map of Munich in front of an art museum and explored my first European city by myself. Scary, but liberating! I even ordered myself a coke in German! I must have practiced the phrase a dozen times before I said it to the employee, and it still came out terrible, but I was so proud of myself and excited about my accomplishment! At this point in the trip, I didn’t realize I could get away with speaking English since Munich is such a touristy city. That being said, I think Germans appreciate the effort. It gave me confidence that I could really do whatever I wanted this year. I can conquer my fears and achiever great things. I already have. Admittedly, it was a good feeling to reunite with Alex. Like I said, separation anxiety.

The LSAT’s were over, and I was a new European woman! We began the celebrations that night. We made every attempt to make it to the fairgrounds, but a bar playing American music stopped us dead in our tracks. We stopped and had quite a few German beers there with a crowd you wouldn’t find in Melle. Everyone was dancing and singing all of the words to “Country Roads,” “Sweet Caroline,” and the “Macarena.” It was a good way to commemorate our triumphs, and we somehow made it back to our hostel without using a map.

The next day, we begrudgingly woke up with pounding headaches, so we each popped some Motrin and headed to breakfast. The hostel that we stayed at was nicer than I anticipated. I was expecting a filthy building with scummy people, but it was just the opposite. Yes, our room did have 36 people bunking in it, but they were all very respectful of everyone else. I feel like that would not be the case in a room filled with Americans celebrating any drinking holiday. We each had our own bed and locker, and breakfast was offered until 10am. Alex forbade me from seeing Hostel until after my first stay in one so my judgment wouldn’t be skewed, but I think I’m ready for it now.

After I mended the worst hangover of my life, we finally made it to the event that Munich is known for… Oktoberfest! It was basically Disney World for adults. Rides, beer, and Bavarians! We had our first and only liter of beer in a Paulaner tent. It was 9.40 euros per liter and we still had not gotten paid yet, so it was hard to justify spending any more of our money on alcohol that gave me hangovers from hell. The younger kids we sat by were extremely Bavarian, like our new friend, Marvin. He was born and raised in Munich, and wearing real lederhosen that has been in his family for generations. He told us that he wears it during the monthly celebration of Oktoberfest and for holidays, like Easter. The leather was very nice, but something tells me it’s not a trend that will catch on in America anytime soon.

Apart from the attractive lederhosen and dirndl everywhere, I’ve also noticed how intimidatingly pretty German girls are. Most of them don’t wear much makeup at all, and so many of them have gorgeous blonde hair and blue eyes… especially the girls from Munich. It’s hard to be around because I know I have too many spots on my face that need to be covered up before leaving the house. I tried wearing less makeup to fit in more, but I don’t think I’m converting to that aspect of German femininity any time soon.

All of the rides were lit up at night on the fairgrounds, and everyone was wearing their heart-shaped cookies that said different things in German. We bought one written in Bavarian that said “i mog di,” which means, “I like you.” We were also festive enough to buy a giant German pretzel, and it was every bit as delicious as it sounds.

Screw Disney World… I’m going back to Oktoberfest when I have money.

First Impressions of My New Home

We survived all of September magnificently! As hard as it seemed at times, we were definitely honeymooning as far as culture shock goes. Everything was so new for us. Dogs were absolutely everywhere. Not only was it probable that every German household owned a dog, but they brought them everywhere. Inside the grocery store, on the trains, shopping. I even witnessed a man coming out of a changing room with his little dog in hand. Absurd.

Alex and I finally got our bicycles after a month of living the pedestrian lifestyle. Walking became unbearable after about a week when we started going to the grocery store every other day and our backpacks would get heavier every trip, because no, they do not give out plastic bags for your food. You must buy them, and we hadn’t gotten paid yet, so we were saving as much as we could. The only trouble with riding bicycles is understanding the laws. Apparently, you can only ride on the red sidewalks, and on a certain side of the street. There seem to be more laws that I don’t know of since people tend to yell at me in German when I ride by them, but that’s all I know of for now. I see people texting while riding their bicycles. Now, that has be illegal… It requires skill, but illegal.

For all my jaywalking American friends, kick that habit if you ever come to Germany. No matter how long the light is, no matter how desolate the streets are, one is never to cross the street until the light is green. If you do, brace yourself for some nasty look from the one German who saw you break the law that will haunt your dreams for at least a week.

If the food cabinets and fridge are empty on Sundays, don’t plan on restocking until Monday. Everything, and I mean EVERYTHING is closed on Sundays. It’s not even open for a few hours. Plan your meals for the week out accordingly when in Germany.

Need to use the bathroom? No problem… as long as you have 50 cents… sometimes even 1 euro. That’s right, it costs money to use the toilet in Germany. I will say this, though. The bathrooms are much cleaner than any public restroom you’ll find in America.

Another funny thing I don’t understand is that Germans don’t like peanut butter. I noticed that there was only one brand of peanut butter in one of the three regular grocery stores I visit. So, when I talked to a few classes about a typical American school experience, I asked them if they ever had peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for lunch. It turns out, they don’t like peanut butter here! Not even Reese’s! They do, however, eat Nutella sandwiches regularly. Another mind boggling mystery for the books.

Restaurants function a bit different, too. There is no host to greet and seat you to your table. Alex and I learned that the hard way when we stood around waiting like idiots. You seat yourself in most places. Also, you must ask for the bill, otherwise, you’ll be waiting all night for it. One good thing about German restaurants is tipping… a large tip isn’t required because the waiters work off salaries. Oh, and pepperoni pizza in Germany is not what pepperoni pizza is in America. Another lesson I learned the hard way. Peperoni pizza has peppers on it. Order salami pizza for an American pepperoni experience.

Alex and I have been sharing one phone which we barely ever use since we’ve been here. There’s no point in getting a second phone, but it’s quite an adjustment. I feel really disconnected to the world. I can’t tell if I like it or not yet. Our internet is really terrible, too. We only get 5 gigs of internet a month that we share between the two of us, so we try to ration it out weekly. For those of you who haven’t seen German television, you’re really not missing anything. It’s How I Met Your Mother and Big Bang Theory dubbed over into horrendous German voices. The only English speaking shows we get are the news channels. I guess I won’t be keeping up with the Kardashians this year.

The Fulbright conference in Altenburg made me really excited for this year in Germany. We completed several workshops and learned how to be teaching assistants at our schools. Technically, no, I’m not a Fulbrighter, but I was welcome to sit in on the sessions because I had the same job as everybody there. Speaking to other people about their insecurities and nervousness for the year made me feel less alone. I knew that there were a lot of people going through the same thing as me, and it was comforting to know I wasn’t the only person who was anxious for what Germany had to offer. We even made a new friend at the conference named Andrew who is married and coincidentally living in Herford, a town nearby. We’ve been hanging out with them a lot lately and it’s nice to have English speaking allies in a country where I feel completely oblivious at times. We all bonded over Germany’s foreign practices, like their trash rituals. Germans separate every piece of garbage, and sometimes, I really have no idea if my sandwich wrapper belongs in the paper, compost, or waste… the only thing I could rule out in this scenario would be plastic. So, I just throw it in one of the bins and hope nobody saw what it was. Little things like that can drive an American girl crazy after a while!

Katja brought us to Osnabrück to get our work/residence visas, which certainly tedious. The people running the Fulbright conference said it wouldn’t be difficult getting these documents approved in a small town, so that’s one thing I was thankful for about being placed in Melle. I was still nervous that it wouldn’t go through, though, for some reason.

The other day, I even mustered up the courage to walk into Tedi, Melle’s very own euro store, to purchase a notebook. It’s very similar to America’s cheesiest dollar stores… you can even find pillows shaped like breasts. Classy. Anyways, listening to Tom Petty’s “American Girl” during my jog must have given me some rush of independence. Immediately after my work out, I hummed that little diddy all the way to the store, determined to grab my new German life by the horns. I even sashayed my way up to the register singing that tune in my head. All music and new found liberation came to a halt when the cashier asked me something in German. My heart sank. Instant defeat and confusion flooded my face. She gestured at a bag since it was obvious that I had no clue what she was asking me. Embarrassed, I nodded my head yes, took my notebook, and bolted out the door with my tail between my legs. One minute, I’m on top of the world. The next minute, my life is a tragedy… some may say comedy. “All by Myself” was now on repeat in my head. I wasn’t fooling this town I was German anytime soon.