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.
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