I signed up for this...best.idea.ever.

One day, many moons ago in my younger days, I was up to my normal antics at Grandma and Grandpa’s house in Florida. It was to me just another day, but for my parents it was the day where someone else finally saw what Mom and Dad had long since known about me. My maternal Grandmother looked at my mother, sighed and declared a state of eternal sympathy…’That one over there is never going to do things the easy way.’

I have since collected a number of family members, friends, school teachers and coaches who would back up my Grandmother’s epiphany that day.

Recently, I may have also joined this camp.

When? You might ask (or really, you might not ask but nevertheless…). It was the day a future colleague asked me if I really wanted to work in the Munich office and not the US office. I answered with a sprightly ‘Of course’ as if such a thing was as routine as brushing my teeth.  

So now I am in my second round of living abroad after a brief stint in Spain. Living in Germany for me is vastly different than Spain because it is for one thing more ‘permanent’ and it’s also a bucket list item for me. One thing I never knew when drafting the proverbial bucket list was how challenging it would be. I could go on and list the million mini challenges I have on a daily basis, but that is not why I write.

The move to Germany has introduced me to a different level of humility and gratitude that will likely forever change me. It is because of this I decide to maintain this pattern of shying away from the obvious and the (personally) easy way of life. **

**Disclaimer – I am not talking about taking on challenges, bull by the horns type of gallantry nor am I declaring the easy way to be safe but rather that the easy way in my past often, if not always, co-presented with the intelligent way, but I digress…..

Here in Munich, I am once again alone today on Thanksgiving, but like the last 2, where by definition that may be true, I am actually surrounded by so many friends here, combined with love and support from a network that now literally spans the world.

It has been this move to Germany, my struggle and the overwhelming response to my serious and comical struggles that I find myself the most thankful on Thanksgiving as I have been in my thirty years.

So this year I am thankful for (in no particular order):

For the person (and actually persons) within arms length when my mobile rings from a German phone number for being my voice.

For the charming cobblestone streets and sidewalks that remind me of the West Village but simultaneously devour the heels of my shoes.

For the Munich train system for being reliably two minutes off. Thank you for being consistent all the while lacking Swiss precision.

For poor dubbing on German television. You lack a level of quality that has made it acceptable to avoid buying a TV thus far and therefore avoided the monthly GEZ tax.

For my work computer and its outperformance of my colleagues computers while I ramp up my German IT vocabulary.

For all of my German teachers, official and unofficial, who speak German to me when I can understand and at me when my face contorts from misunderstanding. Your relentlessness will stick at some point. Your effort and support is appreciated.

For the church bells that mark my laziness on Sundays. With every chime at noon I develop an added amount of willpower to be productive rather than replenish my sleep coffers.

For the German language and its ability to make Germans spell things in English absurdly wrong and elicit a laugh out loud from me.

For the bus stop that reminded me not only of its fortitude, but also that I am not perfect and neither is a seemingly well thought out plan.

For the stairs for always providing a stark reminder in German buildings that I should take the stairs, but marking exactly where I can find the elevator.

For Russ’n and Radlers that allow me to make it to the end of an evening with friends without any major embarrassments or next day headaches.

For trips to IKEA because you know how awful it is to go there when you do not have a car.

For the girl I met on my first day of work that has since served as a translator, German teacher, IT consultant, team member, furniture delivery coordinator, running mate and friend.

For Steve Jobs and the Apple team for creating the iPad that allows me to talk to my family frequently. With an iPad my mother can wash the dishes while narrating the days events, update me on the rest of the family and listen to me when I am just a girl that needs her mother…all while my father walks back and forth mumbling something witty or barking out reminders….and occasionally flashing his toothy grin.

For my old friends that speak to me in English when I can speak neither English nor German. For answering the phone when I call, emailing me when my schedule is too busy, posting on Facebook about drama stateside or beyond and for enduring friendships regardless of the distance between us or the time between calls.

For my new friends. In the past months I have laughed and learned, but I have also stumbled. I have never asked or had to ask for help so many times in my life and I have never been short on hands to pick me up, offers to help, ears to listen or smiles to brighten my day. I signed up for this challenge with the notion it was going to be just that….challenging. It has been, but it is never hard for very long thanks to you. And for that I am short on words to say thank you.  

Student for life, like it or not!

Six months under my belt and so much to show for it, or at least stories to tell. The only tangible things to show from my time here in Munich are an increased number in Facebook friends, my Munich apartment, six months of pay stubs and that wretched bruise from my run in with a bus stop last week. So what has transpired in my time here on German soil, apart from taking copious amounts of German lessons?

Simple. A class in becoming 'kind of' German or let’s call it: Integration 101

Lesson 1: You are not in Spain any longer.

My first football match was Bayern Munich versus Real Madrid in the Champions League. There was a ceremonial burning of jerseys as I donned the red of my new club. That’s all true without the whole burning part. Not that I was a Barca or a Madrid fan in particular, but my colleagues marked the occasion to be sure I was settling into my new team nonetheless.

Lesson 2: When in Rome….

Bowl as the Germans bowl. Kegeln. No, its not that. It’s nine pin German bowling only found in the States in remote places like Texas, which says everything you need to know about nine pin bowling. The pins are shaped differently, balls come without holes to get your fingers stuck in and the machines that control it all resemble a puppeteer pulling up on the strings of his toys below. It was an interesting night, there was bowling of course, team bonding, fork stabbing and then a game similar to h.o.r.s.e. (American basketball) but had something to do with building a coffin. Morbid.

Lesson 3. Reduce, Reuse, Recycle.

And drink and dance all at the same time. There once was a women’s prison in Munich that was naturally reused to house a night of dancing, music and a number of bars. The courtyard was nicely manicured and the attendees opted for street clothes over any striped jumpsuits. The night began precariously as the blackbox that is my iphone decided to stop working minutes before getting into a taxi. I had no idea where to go, no phone numbers and only a handful of German words that didn't include ‘detention center’ or ‘prison’ just yet. I finally made it and followed a line in the floor that gave direction to its former residents and fortunately ran into those I was seeking. Fun fact: another line led to the bathroom within the old cells. Those Germans, they reuse everything!

Lesson 4: The Germans have a sense of humor. Some of them.

Week one I was introduced to a youtube video sent to American soldiers from post-WWII times who were headed to the American zone (including Bavaria). The video, given to me by my boss and German colleagues, warned ‘me’ to not trust the Germans, refuse to shake their hands, avoid fraternization and to be warned of the ‘mighty pretty scenery’. I sat quietly through the first viewing scared to express any emotion as I had been warned back home that it was these very people that lacked any sense of humor! Little did I know that this was merely the beginning of a flood of American stereotyping.

Lesson 5: Stereotypes. Just smile and nod.

The first may have been when I got into the car on a warm, but not abnormally hot day. Air conditioning was on and suddenly the windows went down: ‘Don’t all Americans drive with the windows down and the air conditioning on?’

Television commercials have not done us justice. I’ve been asked more than once if I leave my refrigerator open to cool my house in the summer. They think that everyone rushes home from work and throws their body into the refrigerator for cooling.

I was chastised for buying a fan. Okay, the one for the apartment was not outlandish, but perhaps the one I carried in my purse was.

But we all know that stereotypes go both ways and I nearly jumped out of my shoes the first time I saw a German in a suit with ‘dress sandals’ on and the omnipresent white tube sock.

Dear Frau Merkel, its an awful look. Ban it. Officially. Your people will thank you. LG, Andrea

A few other things I have learned:

If you cannot breathe, but can sit down in a dirndl….it fits perfectly.

Non-smoking hotel rooms in Germany have heat sensing fire alarms that your shower steam can and will set off at inconvenient moments.

Stationary objects in Germany are just as stationary as in other parts of the world. Avoid hitting them on bikes.

Smiling at Germans does not compel them to smile back. Ever.

Oktoberfest is not the time to see what 4 liters of beer tastes like.

Nails do not enter concrete walls easily, not even with a hammer.

Putting 5 grapes in your mouth while speaking ‘High German’ sounds a lot like speaking Bayerisch.

Live on a street that you can pronounce, at a house number that is also easy to articulate. Ignoring both is not going to lead to cheap taxi rides as the taxi driver tries to translate.

Bike tires are smaller than tram tracks – avoid a late night comparison (at any speed).

Speaking German in Starbucks doesn’t make it any bit more acceptable that you are in a Starbucks in Europe.

I am learning more with every day!

Die Schrecken der deutschen Sprache

I have done it again. I'm in yet another country living - and this time working. And once again I threw myself into the experience well in advance of having the necessary language skills.

This time, I am in Munich....well München.

My adventure started with the warmest of welcomes to Deutschland. I came in February during a massive European cold snap. It was below 0 and snowing for 13 of my first 15 days here. This made sightseeing laughable to say the least; walking alone presented a challenge. I have braved many a blizzard in New York City, but given the suitcase restrictions my snow boots didnt quite make the list of necessary items for my first months here. In fact, I spent the first month in my much more stylish boots with slick leather soles which predictably provided me with little to no traction. On a typical day I spent only 25% of my time certain I wasn't on the brink of falling and that was only because I wasn't paying attention. If you ignore the time I used an old man's walker to prevent me from completely falling to the ground - I made it through unscathed.

I am adjusting to life in Germany quite nicely. As long as I remember to get to the grocery store before it closes or one can find themselves in a similar situation of not having food for a week if the holiday schedule works against you (ie Easter weekend). Public transporation is more than sufficient to get me where I need to go and the only thing it lacks is the precision of the Swiss. Now that makes me sound like I am complaining. How dare an American complain when I come from a land where Amtrak is celebrated if it arrives within 3 hours of its scheduled time. The problem comes back to one thing, the only real problem I am having thus far....if my train is late I have no idea what the sign says. Normally I find out later that it is telling me to go to the next station or to wait for an undefined amount of time, but I normally just stand there bewildered that such a concept can be explained in just two words.....two quite long words usually. And that is the common denominator....the language is the root of any problem I may have. I am slowly chipping away at this, but as soon as I feel like I have a good grasp, I find that there are a few exceptions and traditionally more exceptions than there are rules. I should have been weary when I saw the extensive chart on my German teachers wall which she explained were new rules and words that were meant for making German....easier.

Another warning of the uphill battle was actually penned in the 1800's when Mark Twain wrote about his annoyance with learning German. In the back of his book 'A Tramp Abroad' he has an essay that truly highlights the frustrations I feel every time I try to make strides with learning. Now, certainly I will get there and my teachers are pleased with my progress, but this is not without hair raising frustration at the process. I won't pretend to illustrate this better than Mr. Twain so feel free to read up on it yourself although its best read over a beer.

I want to speak German today and I lack the patience to not get frustrated with the inevitable process, so until I can speak a bit better I put my headphones on for my walk through the city or on my way to work. This way I don't embarrass myself while bastardizing the language of my new home. Oh if only it was that easy. Because I am new in town and I am fascinated with the scenery out the train windows or the sites around town so I commonly walk with my head up a bit higher than the typical local which makes me easy prey for those that are new in town or visiting. Eye contact leads to a question from a tourist or even more commonly an elderly woman. I have gotten far enough that I can understand the first few words which means I get the general idea of what they are asking. This is where the problem starts. I enter into a congratulatory state, mentally applauding myself for such progress and how far I have come. Sometimes I even refer back to the class in which I learned these words. Its only then that I realize I didn't get the rest of the message and I'm standing there smiling at my accomplishment as the lost tourist or grandmother looks at me puzzled. I then try to mumble something uncertain if its a 'u' or a 'ü' sound that just came out and its all down hill from there. My American accent seeps through and I normally walk off before I get a nod of disappointment.

Note to self: look at the ground until I am fluent.