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Monday, October 1, 2012

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.




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