Things base and vile, holding no quantity,
Love can transpose to form and dignity.
Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind,
And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.
--Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream: Act 1, Scene 2, lines 232-235
In the German popular magazine NEON, there is a special kind of singles ad (Ehrliche Kontaktanzeigen) in which people try as hard as they can to discourage readers from contacting them. Or so it seems at first glance. They feature individuals who share weaknesses with complete strangers that most people would hesitate to share with a shrink, all in the name of honesty. This encapsulates the German mentality described below in "Let's be clear": say it like it is, so that we all know where we stand and what to expect.
What I really want a potential partner to know about me, says one young man, is, "I can be emotionally icy." In case someone might find that attractive, he adds, "Most women who find that an appealing challenge at first lose patience quickly." Nothing like covering all your bases. I didn't think singles ads were supposed to include disclaimers.
A 30 year-old woman from Berlin says she goes weak at the knees over men with big, crooked noses. Can you imagine someone answering that on account of his big, crooked nose? "Dear Berlin, Your ad really grabbed my attention. Enclosed is a snapshot of me that captures how big my nose is."
One lists for ISO (in search of) "Round-the-clock Feminine Care" (weibliche Vollzeitpflege). In other words, anyone ballsy enough to answer his ad should be prepared to wait on him 24/7.
My favorite feature of these ads, however, is the space for "The ex says." People share how they have been labeled by former partners, e.g., needy, jealous, depressed, lacks self-confidence, etc.). In a nutshell, this highlights the qualities that likely contributed to the shipwreck of previous relationships. Does anybody else see the potential for a self-fulfilling prophecy?
But love is blind, and so the number of faults and quirks that people have really is irrelevant to whether a relationship succeeds. The word relationship implies at least two people, which suggests that compatibility is the key to a strong relationship, not perfection, so why not present as honest a picture as you can?*
Also, I find these singles ads extremely refreshing. The ads don't just list off all purpose interests like "walking on the beach" and "an evening of Netflix," but they portray self-reflecting individuals with guts. The portraits remind you of folks you have experienced. They seem real.
*Of course, there are still varying degrees of honesty, as anyone who has ever applied for a job knows.
02 June, 2009
Let's be clear
I am not the kind of American who compliments your haircut if your bangs really are too short or it reminds me of an oil slick. As a foodie I am also sparing with compliments on people's cooking. In general, you can count on me to tell you what I really think - even if I am quite sure that you don't want to hear it. However, I grew up around plenty of people who would say anything just to make someone else feel good. This puts pressure on others to do the same, because it creates a culture of compliments. That means that, in order to go against the grain, I had to learn tact: to be forthright, but not insulting, candid, but not heartless, and straightforward, but not out of line. In Germany, where everybody says it like it is, this does not apply. Tact is a little known quantity.
In fact I noticed recently that there is not really a proper translation for forthright, candid, or straightforward in German; all three of these words are best translated with ehrlich, the German equivalent of "honest." This takes away a lot of the room for possibilities in analyzing communication. Either you are honest or you are lying. There is no gray zone. Let's look at some examples:
1. Last fall I left Germany for vacation in the US directly after moving to a new city (Bonn). Before my vacation I found an apartment in Bonn and made a verbal agreement with the landlady to sign a contract and move in when I got back from my trip. Two days before my return to Germany (and to a new job), the landlady backed out on me, and I had no choice but to temporarily move in with my then boyfriend and his roommate while I looked for something new. When I explained exactly that to the roommate, who was a complete stranger to me at the time, she said, "What can you expect if you didn't get a signed contract before you left?" This - to my eyes - unsympathetic answer seemed inconsistent with the empathy and generosity she expressed by agreeing to let me move into what was already a cozy apartment for two. But to her eyes she was just giving me an honest answer, and being honest is showing respect.
2. A friend of mine also has a particularly forthright roommate. Recently this roommate invited a bunch of other folks to a party and my friend felt excluded, especially because the party was taking place right around the corner from her work and involved mutual friends. She gently breached the issue the next day by asking, "Why didn't you call me before you left for the party?" A reasonable thing to ask, for two friends who have many common activities. The answer: "Because I didn't feel compelled to extend you an invitation." If you are thinking, this is not for real, or what a bitch, or, what kind of a friendship is that anyway? - then you are starting to see the disparity in ranges of communication styles between the US and Germany.
3. One final example: my roommate's boyfriend said to me, a couple of weeks after we all got back from a hedonistic vacation in southern France: "Hey, can it be that you gained a couple of kilos on our trip?" He insisted that it wasn't meant to be insulting in any way, and I believe him, although I also think I convinced him - for me - it was.
In fact I noticed recently that there is not really a proper translation for forthright, candid, or straightforward in German; all three of these words are best translated with ehrlich, the German equivalent of "honest." This takes away a lot of the room for possibilities in analyzing communication. Either you are honest or you are lying. There is no gray zone. Let's look at some examples:
1. Last fall I left Germany for vacation in the US directly after moving to a new city (Bonn). Before my vacation I found an apartment in Bonn and made a verbal agreement with the landlady to sign a contract and move in when I got back from my trip. Two days before my return to Germany (and to a new job), the landlady backed out on me, and I had no choice but to temporarily move in with my then boyfriend and his roommate while I looked for something new. When I explained exactly that to the roommate, who was a complete stranger to me at the time, she said, "What can you expect if you didn't get a signed contract before you left?" This - to my eyes - unsympathetic answer seemed inconsistent with the empathy and generosity she expressed by agreeing to let me move into what was already a cozy apartment for two. But to her eyes she was just giving me an honest answer, and being honest is showing respect.
2. A friend of mine also has a particularly forthright roommate. Recently this roommate invited a bunch of other folks to a party and my friend felt excluded, especially because the party was taking place right around the corner from her work and involved mutual friends. She gently breached the issue the next day by asking, "Why didn't you call me before you left for the party?" A reasonable thing to ask, for two friends who have many common activities. The answer: "Because I didn't feel compelled to extend you an invitation." If you are thinking, this is not for real, or what a bitch, or, what kind of a friendship is that anyway? - then you are starting to see the disparity in ranges of communication styles between the US and Germany.
3. One final example: my roommate's boyfriend said to me, a couple of weeks after we all got back from a hedonistic vacation in southern France: "Hey, can it be that you gained a couple of kilos on our trip?" He insisted that it wasn't meant to be insulting in any way, and I believe him, although I also think I convinced him - for me - it was.
29 May, 2009
25 May, 2009
I still have a suitcase in...
Today the flamboyant owner of a fabric store asked me, "What is your accent?" The funny thing is: I am in the US. If things continue the way they are going, I will soon be more likely to be taken for a foreigner on my native turf.
Luckily, it turned out the guy has a German-born mother, so I guess he was highly attuned to the sound of a light German inflection. We got to talking about the things I miss when I am here or there and what I look forward to, and he told me his mother's take on switching back and forth between the cultures. He said she is always complaining. When she arrives in the US, she says, "It is impossible to get anywhere here using public transportation," and when she arrives in Germany, she says, "People here are so rude!"
People pose the question on what I miss about the US/Germany (depending on where I currently am) to me all the time. One of my stock answers, handy for surprising my audience and keeping the conversation from getting too heavy, is drinking fountains. In Germany you rarely see a drinking fountain, whereas in the US, you can expect to find them indoors and out in almost every public place.
I think when you live between two cultures and have seen the best and worst sides that both have to offer, you will always see room for improvement where ever you are. Furthermore you will always be missing something, pining after something, feeling incomplete. The German way of expressing this is to say, "I still have a suitcase in Bonn," (or, in German, Ich habe noch einen Koffer in Bonn). That means, "I still have one foot in Bonn" or "I left my heart in Bonn."
But the more I travel back and forth, the more I will be leaving suitcases in Virginia and forgetting mein Herz in Heidelberg, because the idioms (after prepositions) are the first to go - or at least get spliced and blended.
Luckily, it turned out the guy has a German-born mother, so I guess he was highly attuned to the sound of a light German inflection. We got to talking about the things I miss when I am here or there and what I look forward to, and he told me his mother's take on switching back and forth between the cultures. He said she is always complaining. When she arrives in the US, she says, "It is impossible to get anywhere here using public transportation," and when she arrives in Germany, she says, "People here are so rude!"
People pose the question on what I miss about the US/Germany (depending on where I currently am) to me all the time. One of my stock answers, handy for surprising my audience and keeping the conversation from getting too heavy, is drinking fountains. In Germany you rarely see a drinking fountain, whereas in the US, you can expect to find them indoors and out in almost every public place.
I think when you live between two cultures and have seen the best and worst sides that both have to offer, you will always see room for improvement where ever you are. Furthermore you will always be missing something, pining after something, feeling incomplete. The German way of expressing this is to say, "I still have a suitcase in Bonn," (or, in German, Ich habe noch einen Koffer in Bonn). That means, "I still have one foot in Bonn" or "I left my heart in Bonn."
But the more I travel back and forth, the more I will be leaving suitcases in Virginia and forgetting mein Herz in Heidelberg, because the idioms (after prepositions) are the first to go - or at least get spliced and blended.
30 April, 2009
3 tidbits from the past week
Food for thought: My friend S. is spending three months on an organic goat farm in the hills of Bavaria learning to make goat cheese. Her young co-farmer, who grew up in the area, confessed that as a girl she asked her sister, "Where do people without chickens get their eggs?"
Advice: If you are trying to convince a dyed-in-the-wool carnivore that vegetarians can also make good use of a barbecue grill, avoid the T-word.
Good for a chuckle: For the Bonn Marathon last weekend, participants had to register at a "Scheck-In" counter. Some Germans are really on the fence about the growing use of English in everyday life.
Advice: If you are trying to convince a dyed-in-the-wool carnivore that vegetarians can also make good use of a barbecue grill, avoid the T-word.
Good for a chuckle: For the Bonn Marathon last weekend, participants had to register at a "Scheck-In" counter. Some Germans are really on the fence about the growing use of English in everyday life.
27 February, 2009
A free (for all) country, after all?
As a corollary to the entry on things that are smaller than life in the US, I have been wanting to talk about German exceptions to the Recht und Ordung rule, i.e., examples of poorly organized, slipshod, or just plain anarchistic.
This desire was inspired by my attempts to get in a bit of exercise at the public swimming pool around the corner from my apartment. The invigorating plunge into the water helps decrease the stress load of an office job, right? Wrong. Not if you don't have any lap lanes, nor any guidelines on sharing space, cuz at 6 pm the pool is filled with throngs of 9-5ers, and all of them carry on oblivious to the others. Zealous athletes end up next to the day dreamy dilly dalliers. Swimmers weave in and out of each others’ paths so often you'd think it was a contra dance. Try in vain to establish a system. Some say, imagine the lap lanes, swim in circles. But others insist on maintaining a straight line, never deviating right or left, even if another swimmer approaches head on.
The second lapse in orderliness lies in a particularly German use* of the comma, Germans might just call it versatility. If you are a native English speaker you noticed that I just let a comma stand in for a full stop, this is the "versatility" I was talking about. Didn't that drive the obsessive compulsive in you crazy? I don't know if it fits the leitmotiv of this blog, but for what it is worth, I think conjunctions contribute to Recht und Ordung.
True anarchy can be best observed, however, in retail establishments with multiple check out lanes. It starts like this: there aren’t enough employees at the register and the lines snake to the back of the store. Then, inconspicuously, the missing worker returns from his or her coffee break and opens up lane 3 or 4. What do the Germans do? Gallantly step back to let pregnant women and those with few items get through speedily? As a matter of course, notify those furthest ahead of the availability of a new check out counter? No. They stand on their tip toes, ready and waiting for the signal that a register could open. When the “Yes, I’m open!” light blinks on it’s like a shot-gun, and every last scoundrel darts to throw his pack of cigarettes on the fresh counter, leaving a few old ladies trampled in his path. It is worth coming for a visit just to witness the madness.
*a legitimate and accepted use
This desire was inspired by my attempts to get in a bit of exercise at the public swimming pool around the corner from my apartment. The invigorating plunge into the water helps decrease the stress load of an office job, right? Wrong. Not if you don't have any lap lanes, nor any guidelines on sharing space, cuz at 6 pm the pool is filled with throngs of 9-5ers, and all of them carry on oblivious to the others. Zealous athletes end up next to the day dreamy dilly dalliers. Swimmers weave in and out of each others’ paths so often you'd think it was a contra dance. Try in vain to establish a system. Some say, imagine the lap lanes, swim in circles. But others insist on maintaining a straight line, never deviating right or left, even if another swimmer approaches head on.
The second lapse in orderliness lies in a particularly German use* of the comma, Germans might just call it versatility. If you are a native English speaker you noticed that I just let a comma stand in for a full stop, this is the "versatility" I was talking about. Didn't that drive the obsessive compulsive in you crazy? I don't know if it fits the leitmotiv of this blog, but for what it is worth, I think conjunctions contribute to Recht und Ordung.
True anarchy can be best observed, however, in retail establishments with multiple check out lanes. It starts like this: there aren’t enough employees at the register and the lines snake to the back of the store. Then, inconspicuously, the missing worker returns from his or her coffee break and opens up lane 3 or 4. What do the Germans do? Gallantly step back to let pregnant women and those with few items get through speedily? As a matter of course, notify those furthest ahead of the availability of a new check out counter? No. They stand on their tip toes, ready and waiting for the signal that a register could open. When the “Yes, I’m open!” light blinks on it’s like a shot-gun, and every last scoundrel darts to throw his pack of cigarettes on the fresh counter, leaving a few old ladies trampled in his path. It is worth coming for a visit just to witness the madness.
*a legitimate and accepted use
04 October, 2008
Going to the sauna
Today my friend Silvi invited me to go to the sauna with her and a co-worker, who was so pregnant, her baby could have decided to be born in the changing room. It generated a lot of pondering in me.
For starters, I think it is fascinating that the sauna is a whole day event in Germany, not an afterthought at the end of a workout or a swim at ACAC. There are in any given area numerous elaborately landscaped wellness centers with half a dozen varieties of saunas, and - surprisingly - the clientèle is middle class. Something that I associate with absolute luxury and self-indulgence is something a lot of Germans would sooner equate with getting a car inspected: going to the sauna is prudent and, like everything in Germany, features prescribed routines.
After the 90 degree sauna (that's Celsius), for example, you must hose yourself down with ice water, jump in a cold swimming pool/lake, soak your feet, drink water, recline and read, have a warm shower, and then you can repeat the process. Regular sauna visitors - and there are many - regale the benefits of subjecting your body to temperature extremes, including everything from fighting minor infections before they flare up into flus and colds to keeping the skin shiny and fresh. And according to general wisdom, nothing speaks against a pregnant woman enjoying the sauna with her belly at the bursting point. You can't start early enough introducing your child to life's fundamental pleasures (of which the sauna is decidedly one), and if you are really attuned to prenatal health, sauna is part of the plan. So it is said.
For starters, I think it is fascinating that the sauna is a whole day event in Germany, not an afterthought at the end of a workout or a swim at ACAC. There are in any given area numerous elaborately landscaped wellness centers with half a dozen varieties of saunas, and - surprisingly - the clientèle is middle class. Something that I associate with absolute luxury and self-indulgence is something a lot of Germans would sooner equate with getting a car inspected: going to the sauna is prudent and, like everything in Germany, features prescribed routines.
After the 90 degree sauna (that's Celsius), for example, you must hose yourself down with ice water, jump in a cold swimming pool/lake, soak your feet, drink water, recline and read, have a warm shower, and then you can repeat the process. Regular sauna visitors - and there are many - regale the benefits of subjecting your body to temperature extremes, including everything from fighting minor infections before they flare up into flus and colds to keeping the skin shiny and fresh. And according to general wisdom, nothing speaks against a pregnant woman enjoying the sauna with her belly at the bursting point. You can't start early enough introducing your child to life's fundamental pleasures (of which the sauna is decidedly one), and if you are really attuned to prenatal health, sauna is part of the plan. So it is said.
Luckily pregnant women in the sauna means a visual treat for the rest of us. And that brings us to the next point: for me the most exciting thing about the sauna is nakedness.
First of all, I secretly love studying naked people. Not the sexy ones with varnished bodies and Chippendale muscles; I see enough of their nakedness in advertising. The ones I like to see are the ones who wouldn't volunteer to be nude models for an art class: the ones with stodgy, square, wrinkly, hairy, or weathered bodies. The ones that look human.
But even more than being invited to glimpse the nakedness of others in an environment of trust, I love being naked. The first time I went to a public sauna palace six years ago, I was terribly reluctant to part with my clothes. But I was even more reluctant to put them on again. Oh, how cumbersome they felt after a day of being dressed in nothing but water, unprotected, exposed, and free. On top of that I remember being acutely aware of their musty smell. They weren’t dirty, just worldly, and my senses had been awakened by all the deep breathing. That day I wrote in an email to a friend, “I think I could get addicted to public nakedness.” I did.
Why don’t Americans like going to the sauna to the same degree as Germans? They embrace lots of other indulgent things in the name of health and well-being. Are they too prudish to be seen in public naked? Do they lack free time? Do they find it too primitive and prefer hobbies that are technologically advanced, like jet skiing or playing virtual reality video games? Do they find sitting in other peoples’ sweat unsanitary? Some combination of factors is probably at work, but which is the most important? Please weigh in with your ideas.
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