Living in the U.S., going about your daily affairs, how often would you think you could use a foreign language? I suppose if you lived in Miami or San Diego you could use Spanish quite often. What about Italian, or French, or … German? How often would you be able to use those languages?
You might be surprised.
As I wrote previously, my friend and colleague from Germany was here recently. We attended several work meetings and then got together a few times after work. It would have been easy – for me – to just speak English. It probably would have been easy for Viktor too, since his English is close to perfect and he wouldn’t have to suffer through my mistakes in German.
But we just started speaking German, just like we did in Germany. It was difficult for me at first, having been away from hearing and speaking German every day. I was having trouble getting the right sounds to come out of my mouth. But before too long I felt reasonably comfortable again. Encouraging.
The following week I had a work trip to California. One of the people I met had coincidentally lived and worked in Düsseldorf for several years. He had married a German woman, and spoke fluent German -- though with a California accent.
So one night at dinner, there we were, standing in the bar in San Jose speaking German – a comical scene, and something I never would have imagined.
On the way back home, at one of the airport shops in Houston, I noticed the cashier had an accent that sounded German. I asked, and yes, she was from Germany. We had a short conversation, as the line of puzzled customers started to grow behind me.
In Chagrin Falls, just a couple miles from where we live, there is store called the Ski & Sport Haus. The spelling of “Haus” might lead one to think that someone there has at least some knowledge of German. I stopped in the store not too long ago, and one of the women working there had an accent. She was one of the owners (or from the owners’ family), and she told me she was from Austria – which was then apparent from her accent when speaking German.
I had 4 years of Spanish in high school, and another semester in college, but never felt I was very fluent. When I think back on this, not once did I ever have the opportunity to speak it, as I did in these little interactions in German. I wonder now, was it that I didn’t have the opportunity or was it more that I didn’t look for the opportunity?
Many people have told me, if you want to learn the language, you have to be willing to try it – to speak it and to make mistakes. There is a saying in German, “Übung macht den Meister“. Literally that means „practice makes the master“. People said this to me on many occasions when I would apologize for my many mistakes. I wonder what my Spanish would be like had I followed that advice.
Showing posts with label German life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label German life. Show all posts
Friday, June 01, 2007
Saturday, March 03, 2007
Leaving Oberkassel
I had one last work meeting, 2 hours away in Frankfurt. This meeting was with a group of engineers from different companies, part of an ongoing series we’ve been doing for the last couple of years.
We had met in May, when I was here looking at apartments, then again in September. With a common event such as this to compare, I can gauge how far my German has progressed: not quite as much as I’d hoped, but more than I had feared.
Last May, I struggled to keep up with even simple conversations, and fumbled with trying to say things. This time I was able to carry on a conversation, talking with one guy about his recent skiing trip to Italy, telling him how I was going there also, to do some cycling. I made a joke when he asked if my wife was coming. I said no, I was taking my other wife -- mein Fahrrad (bicycle).
I had an early flight the next morning, and thought about staying in a hotel near the airport. But I wanted to have one last night in Oberkassel. I walked to the grocery and bought some Rostbratwurst that I could cook on the small electric grill I had bought. This was one of the little things that made me feel at home when I first got here.
The movers had come the previous day to pack up all my things. The apartment seemed empty and more like a hotel room than somewhere I had lived. It was good to come back and see it not as mine anymore.
Anxious about waking up on time for the early flight, I couldn’t sleep. So finally I just got up at 3:30 AM and made coffee. I went through the apartment yet again, somewhat obsessive-compulsively, to make sure I hadn’t left anything. In a nightstand drawer I found a money-pouch I had brought with about $50 and a few blank personal checks from home.
Finally I unhooked the apartment key from my key ring and left it on the counter. My car was parked right in front of the apartment – the night before the parking gods had smiled on me and left that space open. I drove off for the last time, leaving Oberkassel over the Rheinkniebrücke.
We had met in May, when I was here looking at apartments, then again in September. With a common event such as this to compare, I can gauge how far my German has progressed: not quite as much as I’d hoped, but more than I had feared.
Last May, I struggled to keep up with even simple conversations, and fumbled with trying to say things. This time I was able to carry on a conversation, talking with one guy about his recent skiing trip to Italy, telling him how I was going there also, to do some cycling. I made a joke when he asked if my wife was coming. I said no, I was taking my other wife -- mein Fahrrad (bicycle).
I had an early flight the next morning, and thought about staying in a hotel near the airport. But I wanted to have one last night in Oberkassel. I walked to the grocery and bought some Rostbratwurst that I could cook on the small electric grill I had bought. This was one of the little things that made me feel at home when I first got here.
The movers had come the previous day to pack up all my things. The apartment seemed empty and more like a hotel room than somewhere I had lived. It was good to come back and see it not as mine anymore.
Anxious about waking up on time for the early flight, I couldn’t sleep. So finally I just got up at 3:30 AM and made coffee. I went through the apartment yet again, somewhat obsessive-compulsively, to make sure I hadn’t left anything. In a nightstand drawer I found a money-pouch I had brought with about $50 and a few blank personal checks from home.
Finally I unhooked the apartment key from my key ring and left it on the counter. My car was parked right in front of the apartment – the night before the parking gods had smiled on me and left that space open. I drove off for the last time, leaving Oberkassel over the Rheinkniebrücke.
Monday, February 26, 2007
Counting down the days
For a while I’ve this always-present sense of my time here counting down. It started maybe a week after returning from the Christmas and New Year’s holidays. I suddenly became aware of the imminence of leaving. It reminds me of the last-days-of-vacation feeling, when you realize something good is coming to an end.
I find it interesting to notice the change in perspective from when I first arrived. Take something simple like walking to the bakery. At first the sense was, “wow, this is where I’m going to be able to buy all this great stuff.” Over the weeks this transformed into simply a walk to the bakery to buy bread. And now it’s, “I’m going to miss walking here.”
It’s been this way with so many things: eating at the cafeteria at work, riding the train around town, walking through the neighborhood, riding on now-familiar roads, getting my hair cut. Everything is new, then things blend into the background, then suddenly it’s at the end and I notice all these things I’ll miss.
When I came here in July it seemed like there was so much time, and in a flash it has passed. Isn’t it always this way?
On Sunday I visited my friend and co-worker Viktor. He had invited me out to breakfast – something called a “Bergisches Kaffeetafel”. This is a custom local to the “Bergisches Land” – the hilly area that begins just to the east of our office. We ate waffles, milk rice, different kinds of sweet breads with preserves and sour cream, and drank coffee served in a special type of coffee pot.
Afterwards we visited the Schloss Burg -- the local castle -- then went back to Viktor’s for tea and more cake. It was very sad when it was time to leave. He and his wife have been very nice to me.
I walked through the neighborhood in Oberkassel, to mail a letter and buy coffee cream. Church bells rang off in the distance. I love how the streets are narrow and lined with houses, one attached to the next. The tram went by. At the bakery a line of people spilled out the door. I just had to stop and buy a another baguette and piece of poppy seed cake
I find it interesting to notice the change in perspective from when I first arrived. Take something simple like walking to the bakery. At first the sense was, “wow, this is where I’m going to be able to buy all this great stuff.” Over the weeks this transformed into simply a walk to the bakery to buy bread. And now it’s, “I’m going to miss walking here.”
It’s been this way with so many things: eating at the cafeteria at work, riding the train around town, walking through the neighborhood, riding on now-familiar roads, getting my hair cut. Everything is new, then things blend into the background, then suddenly it’s at the end and I notice all these things I’ll miss.
When I came here in July it seemed like there was so much time, and in a flash it has passed. Isn’t it always this way?
On Sunday I visited my friend and co-worker Viktor. He had invited me out to breakfast – something called a “Bergisches Kaffeetafel”. This is a custom local to the “Bergisches Land” – the hilly area that begins just to the east of our office. We ate waffles, milk rice, different kinds of sweet breads with preserves and sour cream, and drank coffee served in a special type of coffee pot.
Afterwards we visited the Schloss Burg -- the local castle -- then went back to Viktor’s for tea and more cake. It was very sad when it was time to leave. He and his wife have been very nice to me.
I walked through the neighborhood in Oberkassel, to mail a letter and buy coffee cream. Church bells rang off in the distance. I love how the streets are narrow and lined with houses, one attached to the next. The tram went by. At the bakery a line of people spilled out the door. I just had to stop and buy a another baguette and piece of poppy seed cake
Saturday, February 24, 2007
Not a tourist
Walking through the airport in Düsseldorf this week, I noticed some GPS units in an electronic store. I had been thinking about buying one, and the unit I wanted was on sale for a good price. The clerk then told me I would get a refund on the Value-Added Tax (VAT) because I had a U.S. passport.
This was a great deal so I bought it. Or rather I tried to. The first hurdle was to get the credit card company to accept the transaction – it triggered the security flag as an 'unusual transaction'.
The clerk then gave be the refund paperwork and said I must to go the customs office around the corner to get it stamped.
The customs office is staffed by people in drab olive-green uniforms, vaguely military-looking. In contrast the local police dress in a uniform that makes them appear more friendly and welcoming. Interesting that the bureaucrats dress in a manner more threatening than the police.
Whether it is the uniform or the job itself, the woman at the customs desk was not very nice. She was actually quite mean. She leafed through my passport and said sternly, in German, “This is meant for tourists. You are not a tourist”.
Apparently you must be in the country for less than 90 days to be able to take advantage of the VAT refund. She put a big stamp on the rebate form saying ‘denied’.
In coming to Germany to work, I was looking for the experience of not being a tourist. I wanted to get a sense for what it is like to actually live here. I’ve now been told without question that is the case. I get to pay the tax just like anyone else.
After being refused at the customs office, I wanted to return the GPS, and I still needed to get my luggage, but now I was now outside the security area. After some hassling with the airport security people, I went back to the store. The clerk, wanting to make the sale, discounted the price even more, to within a couple of Euros of the tax refund. So not everyone in Germany is completely inflexible.
In the end this was an even better deal. It only cost me an hour and a half and a bit of aggravation. And I can now say with certainty, I am not a tourist.
This was a great deal so I bought it. Or rather I tried to. The first hurdle was to get the credit card company to accept the transaction – it triggered the security flag as an 'unusual transaction'.
The clerk then gave be the refund paperwork and said I must to go the customs office around the corner to get it stamped.
The customs office is staffed by people in drab olive-green uniforms, vaguely military-looking. In contrast the local police dress in a uniform that makes them appear more friendly and welcoming. Interesting that the bureaucrats dress in a manner more threatening than the police.
Whether it is the uniform or the job itself, the woman at the customs desk was not very nice. She was actually quite mean. She leafed through my passport and said sternly, in German, “This is meant for tourists. You are not a tourist”.
Apparently you must be in the country for less than 90 days to be able to take advantage of the VAT refund. She put a big stamp on the rebate form saying ‘denied’.
In coming to Germany to work, I was looking for the experience of not being a tourist. I wanted to get a sense for what it is like to actually live here. I’ve now been told without question that is the case. I get to pay the tax just like anyone else.
After being refused at the customs office, I wanted to return the GPS, and I still needed to get my luggage, but now I was now outside the security area. After some hassling with the airport security people, I went back to the store. The clerk, wanting to make the sale, discounted the price even more, to within a couple of Euros of the tax refund. So not everyone in Germany is completely inflexible.
In the end this was an even better deal. It only cost me an hour and a half and a bit of aggravation. And I can now say with certainty, I am not a tourist.
Saturday, February 03, 2007
Finding new roads
The number of weekends I have left here is dwindling. What should you do when you realize there’s not much time?
I thought maybe I should go somewhere I haven’t been. There’s that feeling I should be “making the most” of the time I have here. But with the trip I had last weekend, and work travel coming up, I wasn’t up for driving or finding a place to stay.
I was also thinking, some of the best times I’ve had here were not going and seeing tourist sites, but just getting out and finding some new roads to ride on. So I threw the bike in the care and drove for just 20 minutes – just enough to get outside the area where I normally ride (yes, Autobahn speeds help here).
This is one of the things I’ll miss about being here.
I don’t get tired of riding on new roads, through the many small towns along the way to nowhere in particular. I don’t get tired of:
… riding through the open-air market on Saturday morning
… seeing people walking to shop, and riding bikes loaded with groceries.
… narrow roads with brick houses just a few feet off the street
… a field of wind turbines
… every village with its own little church
… church bells ringing on the hour
... the crazy names of some of the towns (how'd you like to give your address on the phone for one of these?)
… stopping for coffee at a café
There is a different feel to the countryside here. There is something quite charming about the little villages that you see so often, each with its own center, always with a bakery or café – and probably a bar too. There's something about this that seems to make sense. Without the sprawl of concrete things seem to be on more of a human scale.
Thursday, January 25, 2007
Something about the cold
I’ve written previously about “attitudes towards strangers”, and how it’s unusual for someone to wave or say hello while I’m out riding, whereas in the U.S. this is commonplace.
It has finally turned cold here. It’s been below freezing, and there is talk of some snow. It’s been dry so far, and I’ve been able to continue riding outside. I still see the people who are out riding to get somewhere – work, to the store, etc. They don’t seem to be discouraged by the cold. But they’re not usually going very far.
I’ve not seen so many recreational cyclists though. At home, when it’s cold and I see another rider, it’s usually someone fairly serious, often someone I know. So I wave, say hello, and acknowledge that there is someone else who is a little bit crazy to be out riding.
Strangely enough, it seems to be the case here too. In the last week of riding, I’ve been acknowledged by other cyclists more than in the entire previous 6 months combined. I’ve had guys wave, nod, even say hello on a couple of occasions.
Yesterday I was on my way back home, riding the path along the Rhine. There was a tailwind, and I was moving along pretty fast. I passed a mountain biker and nodded hello. He slipped in behind me --- I could hear the knobby tires on the pavement. Then I realized there was another rider too. The three of us rode for a while in a paceline at 23 mph dodging the walkers and runners.
The other rider rolled up alongside, and started up a conversation. He was riding a nice Colnago, asked if I raced, said he used to, said this is a bit fast for winter riding, said he was Canadian but grew up in Oberkassel where I’m living. We rode for just a little bit longer, to where he had to turn for home. I had to turn the other way, to cross the bridge. The mountain biker said “goodbye” (in English) and rode straight, with his knobby tires humming on the pavement as passed.
It has finally turned cold here. It’s been below freezing, and there is talk of some snow. It’s been dry so far, and I’ve been able to continue riding outside. I still see the people who are out riding to get somewhere – work, to the store, etc. They don’t seem to be discouraged by the cold. But they’re not usually going very far.
I’ve not seen so many recreational cyclists though. At home, when it’s cold and I see another rider, it’s usually someone fairly serious, often someone I know. So I wave, say hello, and acknowledge that there is someone else who is a little bit crazy to be out riding.
Strangely enough, it seems to be the case here too. In the last week of riding, I’ve been acknowledged by other cyclists more than in the entire previous 6 months combined. I’ve had guys wave, nod, even say hello on a couple of occasions.
Yesterday I was on my way back home, riding the path along the Rhine. There was a tailwind, and I was moving along pretty fast. I passed a mountain biker and nodded hello. He slipped in behind me --- I could hear the knobby tires on the pavement. Then I realized there was another rider too. The three of us rode for a while in a paceline at 23 mph dodging the walkers and runners.
The other rider rolled up alongside, and started up a conversation. He was riding a nice Colnago, asked if I raced, said he used to, said this is a bit fast for winter riding, said he was Canadian but grew up in Oberkassel where I’m living. We rode for just a little bit longer, to where he had to turn for home. I had to turn the other way, to cross the bridge. The mountain biker said “goodbye” (in English) and rode straight, with his knobby tires humming on the pavement as passed.
Saturday, January 20, 2007
Going to the movies
I’ve realized you can have more of a “cultural experience” from the seemingly small and trivial activities than going to a tourist attraction. Even something simple like going to see a movie is an interesting experience in itself – regardless of seeing the film.
At the theaters around here, you get an assigned seat when you buy your ticket. You can look at the seating plan and pick the one you want (during which time you may encounter the impatience of the cashier).
Now, I’ve wondered why go through so much trouble to assign seats? Surely the computer system to manage this was expensive. And then you’ve got to train the cashiers. And it makes the process go slower.
But it does allow the early comers to pick the better seats (encouraging you to get there a bit early and eat more of the theater snacks). And when the theater is full, it allows them to better manage filling the seats (so there’s not a single seat between different groups). Good German logic applied there.
Then of course you are allowed to buy beer and bring it into the theater. That is no surprise, as you can pretty much buy beer at any kind of event.
The previews and advertisements before the film seem to go on forever. Last time I looked at my watch and it was 25 minutes. The first time I went to a movie I realized that, when so many people came in just in time for the real start, they knew something I didn’t.
After the previews comes the strangest thing, something I've never understood. The curtain closes across the screen. Then there is a slight pause of a few seconds to maybe a minute. Then they open the curtain and start the film (with maybe one more preview).
I’m sure there is some logic behind this, but I've yet to figure out what it might be.
At the theaters around here, you get an assigned seat when you buy your ticket. You can look at the seating plan and pick the one you want (during which time you may encounter the impatience of the cashier).
Now, I’ve wondered why go through so much trouble to assign seats? Surely the computer system to manage this was expensive. And then you’ve got to train the cashiers. And it makes the process go slower.
But it does allow the early comers to pick the better seats (encouraging you to get there a bit early and eat more of the theater snacks). And when the theater is full, it allows them to better manage filling the seats (so there’s not a single seat between different groups). Good German logic applied there.
Then of course you are allowed to buy beer and bring it into the theater. That is no surprise, as you can pretty much buy beer at any kind of event.
The previews and advertisements before the film seem to go on forever. Last time I looked at my watch and it was 25 minutes. The first time I went to a movie I realized that, when so many people came in just in time for the real start, they knew something I didn’t.
After the previews comes the strangest thing, something I've never understood. The curtain closes across the screen. Then there is a slight pause of a few seconds to maybe a minute. Then they open the curtain and start the film (with maybe one more preview).
I’m sure there is some logic behind this, but I've yet to figure out what it might be.
Friday, January 19, 2007
Storm aftermath
Looking out the window, you wouldn't know there was a big storm yesterday. The sky is perfectly blue. The only clue is the sound of a chainsaw the next street over.
In typical German fashion, the street cleaning machine has already come by, and the street looks as clean as usual. Walking around the neighborhood here, the only evidence of the storm I saw was an abandoned umbrella that was turned inside-out.
I saw in reports that 5 people in Germany and 25 across Europe died as a result of the storm. Not surprising as I've seen pictures of a toppled crane, trees fallen on cars, trucks blown over. I read that the wind was measured at 118 mph.
Here's one report:
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/16687660/
With some additional pictures:
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/16696403/displaymode/1176/rstry/16687660/
I like this quote:
In Amsterdam, bicyclists who ventured out despite warnings from the fire department were blown over or, in some cases, blown backward.
I went out for a ride a little later, and saw many trees that were uprooted or that had broken off partway up the trunk. It was the most difficult flat-land ride I have ever done. The wind was still strong -- a constant 25, maybe 30 mph I would guess, with gusts. For those cyclists who can appreciate this, I was pedaling into the wind in a 39x19 gear (that's a low gear) on a perfectly flat road, and was going about as hard a pace as I could maintain.
In typical German fashion, the street cleaning machine has already come by, and the street looks as clean as usual. Walking around the neighborhood here, the only evidence of the storm I saw was an abandoned umbrella that was turned inside-out.
I saw in reports that 5 people in Germany and 25 across Europe died as a result of the storm. Not surprising as I've seen pictures of a toppled crane, trees fallen on cars, trucks blown over. I read that the wind was measured at 118 mph.
Here's one report:
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/16687660/
With some additional pictures:
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/16696403/displaymode/1176/rstry/16687660/
I like this quote:
In Amsterdam, bicyclists who ventured out despite warnings from the fire department were blown over or, in some cases, blown backward.
I went out for a ride a little later, and saw many trees that were uprooted or that had broken off partway up the trunk. It was the most difficult flat-land ride I have ever done. The wind was still strong -- a constant 25, maybe 30 mph I would guess, with gusts. For those cyclists who can appreciate this, I was pedaling into the wind in a 39x19 gear (that's a low gear) on a perfectly flat road, and was going about as hard a pace as I could maintain.
Thursday, January 18, 2007
Hurricane hits Deutschland
I don't really watch too much TV news here (or much TV at all). I heard on the radio this morning that there would be high winds today, but I didn't appreciate that it would be an actual hurricane.
It wasn't until one of the maintenance guys came around to make sure all the blinds on the outside of the windows were raised all the way. He told me they were predicting wind speeds of up to 170 km/h (over 100 mph), though I think that was only the highest elevations.
It took me 1.5 hours to get home from work because of downed trees and accidents. The crazy part was trying to cross over the Rhine to get home. The Rheinkniebruecke, my usual way, was completely jammed and I could see the flashing police lights. I took a detour through town and to the next bridge. About halfway over, I could see they had the other direction blocked. It appeared as though some scaffolding had come loose.
I realized this as my car was stopped right underneath.
And then I noticed that people were walking on the sidewalk across the bridge. Now the winds were nowhere near 170 km/h but they were still way stronger than I would like when walking aross a bridge.
I got home and jumped on the trainer for a while, after which I was hungry and needed some food. Without thinking I headed out on foot to the grocery store, thinking the winds had died down some. Which they hadn't. When I started to see all the broken flower pots and tree limbs that had fallen I realized I should have brought my bike helmet.
But I did make it there and back OK. Bonus was that hardly anyone was in the store.
It wasn't until one of the maintenance guys came around to make sure all the blinds on the outside of the windows were raised all the way. He told me they were predicting wind speeds of up to 170 km/h (over 100 mph), though I think that was only the highest elevations.
It took me 1.5 hours to get home from work because of downed trees and accidents. The crazy part was trying to cross over the Rhine to get home. The Rheinkniebruecke, my usual way, was completely jammed and I could see the flashing police lights. I took a detour through town and to the next bridge. About halfway over, I could see they had the other direction blocked. It appeared as though some scaffolding had come loose.
I realized this as my car was stopped right underneath.
And then I noticed that people were walking on the sidewalk across the bridge. Now the winds were nowhere near 170 km/h but they were still way stronger than I would like when walking aross a bridge.
I got home and jumped on the trainer for a while, after which I was hungry and needed some food. Without thinking I headed out on foot to the grocery store, thinking the winds had died down some. Which they hadn't. When I started to see all the broken flower pots and tree limbs that had fallen I realized I should have brought my bike helmet.
But I did make it there and back OK. Bonus was that hardly anyone was in the store.
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
German Salsa
Back in September someone at work asked me what I was going to do for fun once the weather turned and I couldn’t ride so much. I jokingly said maybe I would take dance lessons. I had no clue at the time I would actually be doing it.
I suspect that everyone secretly (or maybe it’s no secret) would like to be a great dancer. Even, or especially, those of us who are for the most part non-dancers. How can you watch someone who is a great dancer and not want to be able to move like that?
Back in November, on a whim, I went out with a group of people here to a Salsa night. They were having a beginner lesson followed by the regular dancing. I told the person organizing the event that I didn’t know anything about Salsa and I wasn’t really a good dancer.
She told me she was a big fan of doing things, “and not caring what other people thought of it.” She said she would never wear a bathing suit if she cared too much about what other people thought.
That was enough to give me the little push to go and do it.
Despite the beginner lesson I felt completely awkward and quite stupid. It was warm and I was sweating like crazy. But I got a few of the basics. Mostly though, I was watching the teacher and some of the others and thinking, “I have to learn how to do that.”
This is sort of a pattern with me. I can’t just ride my bike, I have to race and ride 8000 miles a year. I have 4 snowboards. I can’t just learn a little German, I have to live there.
Since November I’ve been to two different Salsa weekend classes, and am going to another this weekend. I was lucky enough to find a teacher here who is very good. The classes are in German, so I figure it’s another one of those situations where I get German lessons to go along with the real reason I’m there.
It’s also an opportunity to get out and do something with some local people – all of whom were quite friendly.
It’s also a chance to put aside some fear and do something I wouldn’t ordinarily do. I realized, just going and getting a lesson – getting that basic instruction on how to get started – was enough. It was that way with snowboarding too. And German. Bike racing I learned the hard way by crashing in my first race.
I suspect that everyone secretly (or maybe it’s no secret) would like to be a great dancer. Even, or especially, those of us who are for the most part non-dancers. How can you watch someone who is a great dancer and not want to be able to move like that?
Back in November, on a whim, I went out with a group of people here to a Salsa night. They were having a beginner lesson followed by the regular dancing. I told the person organizing the event that I didn’t know anything about Salsa and I wasn’t really a good dancer.
She told me she was a big fan of doing things, “and not caring what other people thought of it.” She said she would never wear a bathing suit if she cared too much about what other people thought.
That was enough to give me the little push to go and do it.
Despite the beginner lesson I felt completely awkward and quite stupid. It was warm and I was sweating like crazy. But I got a few of the basics. Mostly though, I was watching the teacher and some of the others and thinking, “I have to learn how to do that.”
This is sort of a pattern with me. I can’t just ride my bike, I have to race and ride 8000 miles a year. I have 4 snowboards. I can’t just learn a little German, I have to live there.
Since November I’ve been to two different Salsa weekend classes, and am going to another this weekend. I was lucky enough to find a teacher here who is very good. The classes are in German, so I figure it’s another one of those situations where I get German lessons to go along with the real reason I’m there.
It’s also an opportunity to get out and do something with some local people – all of whom were quite friendly.
It’s also a chance to put aside some fear and do something I wouldn’t ordinarily do. I realized, just going and getting a lesson – getting that basic instruction on how to get started – was enough. It was that way with snowboarding too. And German. Bike racing I learned the hard way by crashing in my first race.
Thursday, January 11, 2007
More on driving habits
I had to drive to Brussels yesterday -- just a 2.5 hr drive from here.
As I've written previously, I'm at the point now where I really don't like driving far, because of traffic and construction. Sure enough, 15 minutes from home I hit the first traffic jam. It was only a 10 minute delay, so not a huge impact.
I then listened closely to the traffic reports, but didn't hear anything that sounded like it would affect me. Somehow I missed one, and not too far from the border, just as I chose one of the two possible routes, I ran into the back of a 6 kilometer jam. Then I heard it on the radio. It took 30 minutes to go the next 1.5 km to get to the next exit where I turned around and took the other highway.
This is where I would be totally stressed out if my car didn't have a navigation system.
Crossing the border into Belgium, it was as if someone had hit the "relax" button for the highway. In Belgium, the speed limit is 120km/h, and I was told to obey it because the fines are steep. It seems most everyone obeys it, except, I was told again, for Germans who have not yet had the pleasure of being ticketed.
The end effect is that as soon as you hit the border, the entire experience of driving changes. It is so much more relaxed, and so less stressful than driving in Germany. There are no cars coming up on your bumper, or flying by so fast that your car shudders.
I mentioned this to someone at work -- someone who is German -- and he laughed and agreed completely. He said, that is the German way. Everything is so compact, so aggressive, and so stressful. He said he loves to drive in the U.S. (except, I discovered, he had never driven in say Boston or Chicago.)
I did notice though that the Belgians don't seem to easily let you merge into another lane. In Germany it seems if you put your blinker on, the other car is prepared for you to go ahead and merge ... like now. Driving in Belgium, they seemed to go out of their way to not let you merge.
Then I wondered ... maybe I was getting a little payback because of my German license plate.
***
Further note:
While driving to / from work the last 2 days I was noticing again how the drivers here will so often wait until the absolute last minute to merge right to get off at their exit, especially at the Autobahn interchanges. They will drive 160 km/h in the left lane then just before the exit move over to the right, jamming on the brakes and squeezing in where there may be less than a car length. I guess saving a few seconds is worth the price of brake replacement.
As I've written previously, I'm at the point now where I really don't like driving far, because of traffic and construction. Sure enough, 15 minutes from home I hit the first traffic jam. It was only a 10 minute delay, so not a huge impact.
I then listened closely to the traffic reports, but didn't hear anything that sounded like it would affect me. Somehow I missed one, and not too far from the border, just as I chose one of the two possible routes, I ran into the back of a 6 kilometer jam. Then I heard it on the radio. It took 30 minutes to go the next 1.5 km to get to the next exit where I turned around and took the other highway.
This is where I would be totally stressed out if my car didn't have a navigation system.
Crossing the border into Belgium, it was as if someone had hit the "relax" button for the highway. In Belgium, the speed limit is 120km/h, and I was told to obey it because the fines are steep. It seems most everyone obeys it, except, I was told again, for Germans who have not yet had the pleasure of being ticketed.
The end effect is that as soon as you hit the border, the entire experience of driving changes. It is so much more relaxed, and so less stressful than driving in Germany. There are no cars coming up on your bumper, or flying by so fast that your car shudders.
I mentioned this to someone at work -- someone who is German -- and he laughed and agreed completely. He said, that is the German way. Everything is so compact, so aggressive, and so stressful. He said he loves to drive in the U.S. (except, I discovered, he had never driven in say Boston or Chicago.)
I did notice though that the Belgians don't seem to easily let you merge into another lane. In Germany it seems if you put your blinker on, the other car is prepared for you to go ahead and merge ... like now. Driving in Belgium, they seemed to go out of their way to not let you merge.
Then I wondered ... maybe I was getting a little payback because of my German license plate.
***
Further note:
While driving to / from work the last 2 days I was noticing again how the drivers here will so often wait until the absolute last minute to merge right to get off at their exit, especially at the Autobahn interchanges. They will drive 160 km/h in the left lane then just before the exit move over to the right, jamming on the brakes and squeezing in where there may be less than a car length. I guess saving a few seconds is worth the price of brake replacement.
Tuesday, December 26, 2006
Attitudes towards strangers
I went out for a ride the morning after arriving home for Christmas and was reminded immediately that I was here, and not in Germany.
I passed a jogger and she said good morning. I passed another rider and he waved. Strangers actually acknowledged my presence and were friendly.
This is something that puzzles me about Germany, at least where I am. I can walk down the street in the morning and pass people in the neighborhood, and it seems they make an effort to avoid eye contact or otherwise acknowledge I’m there.
It’s mostly the same when I pass other riders, although when I see another racer often a subtle nod is exchanged. Runners interestingly are a bit friendlier, sometimes actually speaking and saying “abend” (evening) or “morgen” (morning).
People have told me that Americans are generally more open and friendly than Germans. It’s not that people in Germany are unfriendly. Just recently I was having snow tires put on, and while waiting talked with a local guy who gave me his card and said to call if I ever wanted to go have a beer at the pub. Once people find out I’m from the U.S. they seem to become friendlier.
It’s the everyday encounters with strangers that often seem so remote and detached. To my sensibility it takes effort to be so detached.
I’ve heard it said that in contrast Americans may be more friendly but they are often superficially so. And that Germans tend to find this somewhat intrusive. This was given as one reason why Wal-Mart failed in Germany: people did not like the cheerful “greeters” at the door or the overly helpful salespeople.
I was in a store here in the U.S. just before Christmas, and suddenly became aware of the cashier’s “Hi how are you today” routine with everyone. She didn’t seem really interested – more of a habitual response.
Neither way seems particularly satisfying – forced remoteness or superficial friendliness. Perhaps I can be a rebel and follow the middle-way … being careful not to scare strangers in the neighborhood. I’m afraid they might think I’m like the eccentric guy I sometimes see outside the bakery who says random and unintelligible things to everyone who walks by.
I passed a jogger and she said good morning. I passed another rider and he waved. Strangers actually acknowledged my presence and were friendly.
This is something that puzzles me about Germany, at least where I am. I can walk down the street in the morning and pass people in the neighborhood, and it seems they make an effort to avoid eye contact or otherwise acknowledge I’m there.
It’s mostly the same when I pass other riders, although when I see another racer often a subtle nod is exchanged. Runners interestingly are a bit friendlier, sometimes actually speaking and saying “abend” (evening) or “morgen” (morning).
People have told me that Americans are generally more open and friendly than Germans. It’s not that people in Germany are unfriendly. Just recently I was having snow tires put on, and while waiting talked with a local guy who gave me his card and said to call if I ever wanted to go have a beer at the pub. Once people find out I’m from the U.S. they seem to become friendlier.
It’s the everyday encounters with strangers that often seem so remote and detached. To my sensibility it takes effort to be so detached.
I’ve heard it said that in contrast Americans may be more friendly but they are often superficially so. And that Germans tend to find this somewhat intrusive. This was given as one reason why Wal-Mart failed in Germany: people did not like the cheerful “greeters” at the door or the overly helpful salespeople.
I was in a store here in the U.S. just before Christmas, and suddenly became aware of the cashier’s “Hi how are you today” routine with everyone. She didn’t seem really interested – more of a habitual response.
Neither way seems particularly satisfying – forced remoteness or superficial friendliness. Perhaps I can be a rebel and follow the middle-way … being careful not to scare strangers in the neighborhood. I’m afraid they might think I’m like the eccentric guy I sometimes see outside the bakery who says random and unintelligible things to everyone who walks by.
Sunday, December 17, 2006
Low key Christmas
I miss being home at Christmas-time, but I’m also appreciating how Christmas is not so in-your-face as it is at home. People don’t go crazy with Christmas lights and decorations, every other TV commercial isn’t Christmas advertising, and I don’t hear Christmas carols everywhere I go.
The upside is that I don’t have that feeling of Christmas overload … 3 days post-Thanksgiving. The downside is that the general atmosphere doesn’t seem quite as festive as at home. If we could only turn down the volume a bit. Unfortunately that seems unlikely, since each year we feel we must do that little bit more than last year.
There is one phenomenon that is big here: the Christmas markets. People told me, “You have to visit the Christmas markets.” They were given such a build-up it was almost impossible not to be let down.
I’ve been to three different markets: here in Düsseldorf, in Köln, and in
I was wondering what the attraction was, besides being an excuse to drink outside, eat ½ meter long bratwursts, and shop at times when stores are normally closed.
Then my friend from work invited me to go with him and his wife to
We later went to eat lunch at one of the many student hangouts, where you can get a pizza for 4 Euro or in my case a half chicken with frites and a salad for 4.80. My friend’s kids were there, and I worked hard to understand as they all spoke at their normal speed.
I found myself having a quite a good time. I realized what was different from the other markets: here, I was simply enjoying being with friends. And that I’m guessing is one of the big attractions to going to the Christmas markets.
Monday, December 11, 2006
Stau auf der Autobahn
Many people have asked me about driving on the Autobahn. Often people have this image of the Autobahn being a single 10-lane superhighway, with no speed limit, that cuts across the middle of Germany.
In actuality, it’s quite different. And right now, driving on the Autobahn is often completely absurd.
The Autobahn isn’t a single highway, but rather is a network of highways similar to the U.S. interstate highway system. It’s generally well-maintained, and there are frequent rest stops where you can buy gas as well as food (similar to what one finds on U.S. toll roads).
Yes, there are stretches of road where there is no speed limit. But these stretches don’t seem to last very long. It’s common to go from no speed limit down to 120km/h (about 75mph), then sometimes lower. Anywhere near a city there are usually speed limits of 80 -120km/h. Where I commonly drive, I rarely get to a stretch of road without limits.
Now for the absurdity of the situation.
The Autobahn seems to be operating near capacity in many places. That means even the smallest disturbance can cause a traffic stoppage. Driving home from the airport recently, we sat stopped in traffic for 30 minutes because a car was in the breakdown lane with a flat tire.
Because of the World Cup this summer, construction work was postponed until mid-July. It seems right now that every stretch of Autobahn is under construction. On one recent trip I started to keep track, and I did not go more than 40km on any stretch of Autobahn without going through a construction zone.
Rather than take away a lane of traffic, the construction zones generally have these insanely narrow lanes. I don’t think you could stick your elbow out an open window without hitting the car, or better yet truck, in the next lane.
A construction zone is a disturbance to the traffic flow. And because of the narrow lanes with no margin for error, they seem to often be the location of accidents. And that means monumental traffic jams.
I’ve learned a lot of German listening to the frequent traffic reports on the radio. A “Stau” is completely stopped traffic. “Stockender Verkehr” is literally stagnant traffic, also known as “stop and go” by one of the radio stations. Any weekday morning, there will be a list of at least 10 or more Staus or stockender Verkehr of 3km or more within a 40 mile radius. I’ve learned the words for: accident, detour, construction zone, wrong-way driver, lane closed, lane open, car on fire, Autobahn-completely-closed-because-of-accident-with-death-involved.
I’ve become a bit obsessed with listening to the traffic reports, because I just cannot stand to sit in traffic. On one 3 day driving trip for work, I swore I would never drive like that again, and would instead take the train and cabs even it if took longer. On that trip we heard a report of a 25km Stau (that’s over 15 miles) outside Munich.
Into this mix you can throw trucks that do not drive faster than 100km/h (62mph), even when they are passing another truck. There may be one truck going 98 with another passing at 100. A colleague at work says that is called an “elephant race”.
Because of all this, the absence of speed limits seems to have no effect on the overall travel time. You can drive 200km/h for stretches, but your average trip speed is the same as if you never exceeded100 km/h.
Unfortunately many of the German drivers don’t see it this way, and assert their right to drive as fast as they desire, whenever they desire. This seems to be particularly true for guys about my age in BMWs, Audis, Porsches, and Mercedes. They think nothing of continuing at 200km/h even though it is obvious just up ahead they will have to brake hard, which they do. Or they fly up the left lane then cut over 2 lanes just before their exit, where they have to jam on the brakes. I’m sure the auto workshops here do a great business in brake work.
If all of this sounds bad … well, it is. Actually it’s not a complete disaster. I do believe I’m much more aware of the traffic around me. And I’ve learned to always use my turn signals. That is just pure self-preservation.
In actuality, it’s quite different. And right now, driving on the Autobahn is often completely absurd.
The Autobahn isn’t a single highway, but rather is a network of highways similar to the U.S. interstate highway system. It’s generally well-maintained, and there are frequent rest stops where you can buy gas as well as food (similar to what one finds on U.S. toll roads).
Yes, there are stretches of road where there is no speed limit. But these stretches don’t seem to last very long. It’s common to go from no speed limit down to 120km/h (about 75mph), then sometimes lower. Anywhere near a city there are usually speed limits of 80 -120km/h. Where I commonly drive, I rarely get to a stretch of road without limits.
Now for the absurdity of the situation.
The Autobahn seems to be operating near capacity in many places. That means even the smallest disturbance can cause a traffic stoppage. Driving home from the airport recently, we sat stopped in traffic for 30 minutes because a car was in the breakdown lane with a flat tire.
Because of the World Cup this summer, construction work was postponed until mid-July. It seems right now that every stretch of Autobahn is under construction. On one recent trip I started to keep track, and I did not go more than 40km on any stretch of Autobahn without going through a construction zone.
Rather than take away a lane of traffic, the construction zones generally have these insanely narrow lanes. I don’t think you could stick your elbow out an open window without hitting the car, or better yet truck, in the next lane.
A construction zone is a disturbance to the traffic flow. And because of the narrow lanes with no margin for error, they seem to often be the location of accidents. And that means monumental traffic jams.
I’ve learned a lot of German listening to the frequent traffic reports on the radio. A “Stau” is completely stopped traffic. “Stockender Verkehr” is literally stagnant traffic, also known as “stop and go” by one of the radio stations. Any weekday morning, there will be a list of at least 10 or more Staus or stockender Verkehr of 3km or more within a 40 mile radius. I’ve learned the words for: accident, detour, construction zone, wrong-way driver, lane closed, lane open, car on fire, Autobahn-completely-closed-because-of-accident-with-death-involved.
I’ve become a bit obsessed with listening to the traffic reports, because I just cannot stand to sit in traffic. On one 3 day driving trip for work, I swore I would never drive like that again, and would instead take the train and cabs even it if took longer. On that trip we heard a report of a 25km Stau (that’s over 15 miles) outside Munich.
Into this mix you can throw trucks that do not drive faster than 100km/h (62mph), even when they are passing another truck. There may be one truck going 98 with another passing at 100. A colleague at work says that is called an “elephant race”.
Because of all this, the absence of speed limits seems to have no effect on the overall travel time. You can drive 200km/h for stretches, but your average trip speed is the same as if you never exceeded100 km/h.
Unfortunately many of the German drivers don’t see it this way, and assert their right to drive as fast as they desire, whenever they desire. This seems to be particularly true for guys about my age in BMWs, Audis, Porsches, and Mercedes. They think nothing of continuing at 200km/h even though it is obvious just up ahead they will have to brake hard, which they do. Or they fly up the left lane then cut over 2 lanes just before their exit, where they have to jam on the brakes. I’m sure the auto workshops here do a great business in brake work.
If all of this sounds bad … well, it is. Actually it’s not a complete disaster. I do believe I’m much more aware of the traffic around me. And I’ve learned to always use my turn signals. That is just pure self-preservation.
Friday, December 08, 2006
Fast walking
I learned this the hard way once, a number of years ago when we took the kids to Disney World. After spending the first day walking, I had to soak my legs in an ice bath because my calves were so sore. Since then I swore I would keep myself in reasonable walking shape.
As I’ve mentioned before, people walk a lot in
Not only do people here walk a lot, they also walk fast. When my daughter was here for a visit, we noticed a woman in front of us on the sidewalk who was pulling away from us. She had at least 20 years on me. We tried to walk faster but still couldn’t keep up. My daughter blamed it on her open-back shoes until we noticed the woman’s shoes were similar.
I think that when you’re walking a couple km or more, you don’t always have time to go at a leisurely pace.
Without really thinking about it, I’ve been walking faster too. When everyone around you is walking fast, you naturally follow along. When my wife came to visit, she asked, “Why are you walking so fast?”
And then when I came home to visit, while shopping in the grocery store she said, “You’re doing that fast walking thing again.” I had started pushing the cart and quickly left her behind.
But I’m still not the fastest person on the sidewalk. I’ve been passed by elderly women carrying groceries. The other night a guy walked briskly by me, lighting a cigarette as he passed – and I was in a bit of a hurry.
There is something satisfying about transporting yourself under your own power, and walking is about as basic as you can get. The best thing about walking is walking to buy food or go out to eat. I always feel justified in getting just that little bit more.
Saturday, November 11, 2006
Some Things Stay the Same
Whether in the U.S. or in Germany, some things remain constant. Take for example trying to go for a bike ride on Friday afternoon anytime later than 3:00.
We typically think that the Germans (maybe Europeans in general) take their time off from work seriously. We in the U.S. have the impression that they work something like 30 hours a week and receive 52 weeks of vacation.
It’s not quite that extreme, but sometimes seems rather close.
With all that time, you would think that they would take a more leisurely approach to getting home from work on a Friday. But just as in the U.S., Friday afternoon means a mad rush to get home. Or get somewhere.
The drivers here, while driving fast and aggressive, are mostly tolerant of cyclists. They usually give me enough room when passing. They don’t honk or yell things out the window.
But on Friday afternoon, when they are in that rush to get home, they seem to have no patience with a cyclist who might delay their arrival by maybe 30 seconds. So they pass too close, pass when there is oncoming traffic, try to squeeze in front of me when approaching a red light (why, I cannot imagine).
This has always mystified me back at home too. I’ve wondered why are people in such a hurry that they cannot stand to be delayed for even a few seconds? Once I asked a driver this, after catching up to him at a red light after he obnoxiously honked and yelled at me. His answer was to spew something like, “Get off the road!” with spit on his lips.
And I once asked the mayor of Hunting Valley why he was in such a hurry after he called the police to pull three of us over. We had delayed him by not riding single file on a country road (on a Saturday morning). He couldn’t answer except to say some nonsense about us breaking the law.
But that is in the U.S., where we expect most of the population to be racing home to the couch to switch the on T.V.
I think there is a similar phenomenon in Germany. Maybe the specifics are a bit different, but there is that same sense of impatience to get home to whatever small indulgence or distraction is waiting – which ironically might be going for a walk, run, or bike ride, judging from the amount of people I see out on the path along the Rhine.
Two Fridays ago I was riding on a narrow farm road, when a van, obviously a work vehicle, insisted on passing me from behind even though there was not enough room for both of us, and even though I was moving along at more than 20 mph and he had to stop up ahead anyway.
I can tell that my perspective here has changed, because now I am no longer the polite American in these situations. But I still need to learn the best insults to yell in German.
We typically think that the Germans (maybe Europeans in general) take their time off from work seriously. We in the U.S. have the impression that they work something like 30 hours a week and receive 52 weeks of vacation.
It’s not quite that extreme, but sometimes seems rather close.
With all that time, you would think that they would take a more leisurely approach to getting home from work on a Friday. But just as in the U.S., Friday afternoon means a mad rush to get home. Or get somewhere.
The drivers here, while driving fast and aggressive, are mostly tolerant of cyclists. They usually give me enough room when passing. They don’t honk or yell things out the window.
But on Friday afternoon, when they are in that rush to get home, they seem to have no patience with a cyclist who might delay their arrival by maybe 30 seconds. So they pass too close, pass when there is oncoming traffic, try to squeeze in front of me when approaching a red light (why, I cannot imagine).
This has always mystified me back at home too. I’ve wondered why are people in such a hurry that they cannot stand to be delayed for even a few seconds? Once I asked a driver this, after catching up to him at a red light after he obnoxiously honked and yelled at me. His answer was to spew something like, “Get off the road!” with spit on his lips.
And I once asked the mayor of Hunting Valley why he was in such a hurry after he called the police to pull three of us over. We had delayed him by not riding single file on a country road (on a Saturday morning). He couldn’t answer except to say some nonsense about us breaking the law.
But that is in the U.S., where we expect most of the population to be racing home to the couch to switch the on T.V.
I think there is a similar phenomenon in Germany. Maybe the specifics are a bit different, but there is that same sense of impatience to get home to whatever small indulgence or distraction is waiting – which ironically might be going for a walk, run, or bike ride, judging from the amount of people I see out on the path along the Rhine.
Two Fridays ago I was riding on a narrow farm road, when a van, obviously a work vehicle, insisted on passing me from behind even though there was not enough room for both of us, and even though I was moving along at more than 20 mph and he had to stop up ahead anyway.
I can tell that my perspective here has changed, because now I am no longer the polite American in these situations. But I still need to learn the best insults to yell in German.
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